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This is the San Juan Horseshoe

Affordable reading for Western Colorado since 1977.

This is only the Home Page. There are six more categories/pages and over 3000 stories accessible by clicking one of six gateway prompts such as Reflections on Disorder or Fractured Opinion under the masthead.

 “The Premier Rocky Mountain Humor/American Satire Parody Website, Comedy, Spoof & Funny Paper from Western Colorado”

Please remove shoes before entering categories such as Lifestyles and Soft News. Stories accessible 24 hours a day simply by clicking on the names like Featured Peeks, Fractured Opinion and Hard News

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Mindlessly discretionary, self-centered and often annoying, our Rocky Mountain stories are certain to tickle the sedentary, and amaze the gullible. For further adventures in political emersion and elite slipshod hooey see the large, fuzzy-hatted man at the door. Leave all opinions, complaints, vase floral arrangements, broken promises, white bread fears and unfinished science projects with him.

Featuring in-depth, introspective news stories written by people who weren’t there either.

This website has evolved from the comedic newspaper, the San Juan Horseshoe, without the printing bill, the dirty ink and the days of distributing to six mountain counties. Now we be circulating the globe with a click of a mouse! Why just the other day we received an email from a man in Chang Mai wanting to borrow a cup of rice. Back in May a woman in Bilbao sent us a naughty Basque Valentine. Just last night a frantic river rafter called from the Nile. She was all wet and needed a towel which we sent immediately. You can too!

As with all endeavors we need the support of readers like you who enjoy this kind of tepid balderdash, this barking up the family tree, this adverbial tempo, this inconsequential endorsement of what is sacred and what is silly.

Failed comedians, rascal politicians, self-proclaimed celebrities and the opinionated moron next door appearing inside these pages fly Excelsior Airlines, The Airlines Without Chairs, in return for dumpster donuts, casual sex and free wedding announcements. These people are only real if you think they are real.

Persons seeking special accommodations with the brass section of the Pea Green Symphony Orchestra should approach each member on a one-to-one basis, leaving no stone unturned. Remember to ring at the archaic Moldavian gate and under no circumstances employ the linen elevator for personal travel. Admission is generally one unused joke or a shopping bag full of laughs (Saturdays only).

Contact us: sanjuanhorseshoe@montrose.net

P O Box 1209, Ouray, CO 81427

COPYRIGHT: KEVIN J HALEY 1977 – 2019

Taking laughter seriously in Region Zen and the Snotty Beach Communities.

Another fine product from Musick’s Bad Tuna Aftershave,

olfactory gatherers and makers of perfumes, lotions & aperitifs

since moments before the storming of the Bastille.

Looking for news, letters, sports, photos and local ads? Click Lifestyles at Risk or any of the six prompts under the masthead.

EDITOR’S CORONER

She walked in, her chin stuck out like the bow of a ruptured little tugboat, her husband trotting behind like a hobbled Nubian hunk of spoiled brie…“Impothoble, he would later lisp, streaming his sinuses all the way down to his knees… Impothible.

Ojala! These words are not meant for consumption by the brittle masses, the charcoaled bourgeois but rather for the literary ear, pulled away from the cellular device and the cranium disentangled from the rectal infrastructure. Take this utterance:

“His stark, prancing words did not penetrate her flimsy silk robe despite a sense of frantic seductions fed to them in interments by almighty voyeurs, hungry gods of another universe.”

Writing is like sliding an oyster down your throat. It’s slick and smooth going down but to get the taste, the grit and the texture one must linger with the mollusk perched on the tongue, waiting for the next slug of small batch beer. And onward we go in spite of adversaries real or imagined.

Welcome dog show participants and social-climbing doxies. Welcome kitchen gadget enthusiasts. Welcome to the Stream of Unconsciousness. This timely and eloquent grammatical retort is paid for by Cannabis Grove – Realignment Village and Free Nap Zone. You’ll be here before you know it! Watch for our sister facility: Surrogate City Senior Palms, opening in March.

During brief moments of clarity…peppered with fond glimpses and embraced with alacrity…only to dip back into my crab-like persona by mid-afternoon.

Inside the six luxury categorical berths of this website you will find over 3000 stories, none of which are all that good. Full frontal coverage of town council meetings could be angrily jotted down in lieu of today’s siesta. Draw your own conclusions and your pistol only after twenty paces.

Gird up your loins with a magenta sash. Here come the headlines:

Dems promise free toilet paper every four years in desperate plea to voters. Can the utterly stumped really follow through with an industrial promise of this magnitude?

Fruita couple defines schadenfreude and wins a weekend for one in Grand Junction

Male brothel franchise shot down by Cahone Cartel while Yoga Pants Legislation Tightens for winter. Movers and shakers float decision while killing time over at the local Puff & Poop

2019 Drunken Driving Competitions Conclude on Friday

events – run the gamut – cops – 2 am – 4 am.

How Will the Morally Bankrupt Fare in the Coming Economic Crash?”

South Carolina militias probing Fort Sumner – can Bull Run be far off? On my hope of heaven…

Last news headline: POX News backs Trump claim that ICE is defeated…they meant ISIS but none of their viewers knew the difference. And I thought The Horseshoe was stupid…

And don’t miss our Feature Story: Why do old fart’s pants fall down when they attempt to work?  Go ahead: Work up a little sweat and down go your khakis. It’s hard to be accountable when your pants keep falling down.

All passages and advisory submissions written down on the back of a cartridge box while sporting starched kilts traveling by rusted sidecar in the hedges of the Grand Hibernian.

—Apologies—

Correction: An article claiming that Donald Trump’s foreign policies dated back to the Stone Age. This is not exact – It was the Bronze Age.

Clarification: The misleading headline President Trump had three dogs…all ran away  was not well-researched. He only had two dogs.

Editor’s note: We will survive the three-pronged embarrassment suffered by our poorly inoculated editorial staff forcibly escorted out of the Fortune 500 Fish Fry held at the Elves Club last Friday.

Leftover words and phrases from stories – up for adoption this month:

plutocratic debris

fait accompli

journalistic hyperbole

calamitous

piece de resistance

a brisk and fleeting alacrity

Take home a six-pack!

Offices in Jardin, Colombia, Hoi An, Vietnam, Skibereen, West Cork, Ireland and Colona, Colorado, USA

Thanks to all old and new friends in West Cork and Connemara! I’ve shed a tear for the croppy boy, felt a loving box in the gob and reveled in a hot water bottle placed in my Clonakilty bed in lieu of central heating. Go raibh maith agat!

Looking for news, letters, sports, photos and local ads? Click on Featured Peeks or any of the six prompts under the masthead.

COREXSHUNS

with Fire Tower Declan 
Executive Corrections Editor

An instance of editorial brilliance failed to take place last month when articles respectively dealing with aboriginal birth control and public school choice were not juxtaposed, but were rather run in entirely different sections.  This sort of thing will continue to occur.

Readers polls conducted in the last 3 offerings have been discarded due to a statistical quirk.  It turns out that not only do our readers not constitute a valid sample of the general population, but sub-groups among our readers, particularly those subgroups that answered the polls were found to be non-representative of even themselves.  Statisticians brought in from Paonia were in fact unable to parse any of the samples, nor to transit the least squares even when errors were propagated in quadrature.  Suffice to say that our readers deviate from the norm in a remarkable fashion.

Linoleum stains described in the September episode of Slagman P.I. were actually part of the pattern.  And contrary to another description in that episode, there is shag carpeting that is still being used fashionably on Glencoe St. in Denver.  The secret is to never let modern carpet cleaners with their ghastly steam contraptions near it.  Just let the cats gently knead it with their little claws.  Cat hair has never been proven to cause allergies.

We regret to inform our readers that there is no way to correct for shoddy journalism and lack of literary merit.  We will continue to point out the minor errors of identification and information etc., but in the final analysis, correction is in vain.

Colloquialisms sprinkled throughout the body of last months issue were the result of cost overruns by contractors engaged to plan the acquisition of copy.  While it is widely known that our editor will accept any set of words assembled in such a fashion as to appear to have been “written”, our consultants were not so constrained.  In the future, all outlays in connection with accumulation of content will be reviewed by our standards committee.  That act alone should overwhelm those critical among those commentators who waste their time analyzing these offerings.

Cab fare tables shown in our January issue do not include separate charges for stops at bars along the way.  If your intent is truly to get home from the bar it is doubtful that such stops are productive or even recommended.  All fares terminating or passing through Ridgway include admission charges for the cowboy/girl hall of fame.  Whether you stop there or not, its always good to know that last night’s cowperson was at least paid for.

Clock adjustments for daylight savings time included in our December procrastinator’s guide to time management, need only be made once, and then only for the state in which you reside.  Do not attempt to determine what time it is in other time zones with or without the benefit of such adjustments.  Keep in mind that even if you fail to make any adjustment at all, your clock will be correct again within 6 or so months.  When setting your watch for a trip to Mexico, keep in mind that; 1) Quintana Roo is mainly in the Central time zone, even though it has the “feel” of being on the east coast, and 2) Times and hours don’t have the same significance in Mexico as they do in, say, Norwood.

Callers who will no doubt notice that these last four corrections all begin with a “C” should not use our toll free line to point this out.  If you’re calling on a cell phone, let us know so that we can leave you on hold.  Remember that your call is important to us and may be recorded to insure quality control as well as for our amusement.  First time callers should use our “west of the Rockies line”, especially when we’re not on the air, which incidentally, is all of the time.

JOURNALISM 2020

While perusing The Denver Post this morning I ran across several black and white news stories with potentially humorous twists. But we’re in the shadows of 2020 and the healing waters of political correctness hath runneth over. This morning it seems that most intended guffaws from sardonic to harmonic would seriously offend some one or some group.

Admittedly this website is part of the news puddle, but only in a technical sense. We don’t get to go to Florida or Arizona in February to discuss the media’s responsibilities or get asked to come on talk shows (or even game shows) to give a smiling life’s testament in eight minutes.

A comic knight in armor (or clown suspenders) that tries to amuse frightened villagers by observing life as it is, and as it sometimes is not, risks sliding in the fast lane of bad taste. If he slays the friendly dragon of laughter, condemned by some as a threat to the village, there are no new jokes on Monday morning. It all comes down at a time when it seems apparent that everyone could use a good belly laugh.

Adhering to the agenda of political correctness is a very effective substitute for really giving a damn about what happens on one’s planet. It’s cardboard castle walls, a phony parameter for the frightened villager, when that same dragon is only sniffing flowers on the hillside.

Anyway, take out your blue notebooks and number two pencils. This morning’s front page featured a story about snow coupled with a depressing shot of kids waiting for a school bus in Denver. So, it’s winter again. Surprise. Surprise. Nothing there. Denver is still the flatlands.

Having lived in Colorado for most of my life I am used to seeing a headline about the Broncos blasted across the top of the page. Oh, here’s a reefer bar piece (on Sunday the paper runs coupons here) about the Pro Bowl and what Broncos are going there. That, in itself is funny, if you watched the team’s performance of late. I really felt sorry for the reporter who drew this assignment. Maybe next he or she will get a career launching shot at the obituary page.

There’s a story about a newly concocted global emissions accord getting the nod, which should put everyone to sleep, since it remains unclear whether the worst industrialized offender, the USA, will even bother to sign the treaty at all. Hmmm…maybe some futuristic piece about what the negotiators ate for lunch in downtown Kyoto could come out of all this. That could work, but we’d have to be damn careful not to say anything controversial about chopsticks.

Although self-serving, this daily headline reading exercise is one way to embrace what is at least superficially current. But what is the politically correct way to handle the disturbing story: World Ends?     

It’s clear we are going to have to explore the inside of the paper to get to the meat of the day. To quote Paul Harvey, “Page two.”

Tight smack in the middle of the layout is a less than tranquil shot of Carlos the Jackal, who has been linked to terrorist attacks as far back as 1972. Nothing funny there. He was captured in 1994. Is he still alive? Is justice better served by waiting almost three years to try him? Maybe the Parisian courts have been tied up with dog-at-large violations.

 Let’s see…we’ve got a Nebraska gubernatorial hopeful marrying a former Miss America. Nothing there. What about a judge’s decision that rapper Tupac Shakur’s father gets stiffed on his slain son’s estate? Is that a stage name?

Look at this story…says here a drink a day is a plus at middle age. What about a six-pack at 75?

Here’s a short flash about Elton John turning over $32 million to Princess Diana’s Memorial fund. Wasn’t “Candle in the Rain” first written about Marilyn Monroe? Talk about killing two birds with one stone. Ooopps. How insensitive! We better leave that one alone too.

The intensity of my concentration is interrupted by 11 full pages of mindless advertising by a Denver retailer. As a struggling journalist am I offended or jealous?

Page 14: Sex organ is severed in attack. Where did these guys go to school? Wouldn’t it sound better to say Sex organ severed in attack? That’s how we were taught but back in those days people didn’t do things like that. Land mine victims…estrogen light, child abuse, computer crimes, Christmas lights recalled. Too heavy, especially for a holiday issue.

Bingo! Here’s one about the United States Chamber of Commerce, the GOP and the tobacco companies doing battle with trial lawyers and judges seen as too friendly to plaintiffs. Since none of these groups falls within the sacred curtain we’ll watch it develop.

Shoppers hurt when pit bulls escape yard. What would it be like if we have a financially plagued pipe fitter, who drinks too much coffee, attack the same shoppers, his behavior compared to that of the pit bull? First of all we don’t want to offend pit bull owners or the Pipe fitter’s Union (we even capitalized it to show good faith). We don’t want to frighten shoppers either. And maybe we should can the coffee connection too since we have a lot of advertisers that sell the stuff.

If you’ve managed to read this far you may see the dilemma facing the jokester in print.

Well, fortunately it’s almost time for lunch. What a morning. Oh look. It says here Callisto; one of Jupiter’s moons has oxygen. Now there’s a spot of good news. We may need all of that stuff we can get as an adjacent piece entitled Australian climate changed by burning testifies. Oh here’s one about Democratic hopefuls embracing each other at a  public luncheon. I’ll have two martinis and the grilled cheese.

 guy reading with cow

    

Local Man Claims to Have Viewed “Great Attractor”

(Crested Butte) An amateur astronomer claims to have seen what scientists are calling the “Great Attractor” in the winter skies above Snodgrass Mountain. Earl MacAdoo was out walking his grossly overweight Peloponnesian Setter on Friday night when all of a sudden he felt what he called a vigorous gravitational pull, coupled with an offensive aroma, emanating from the north. Upon closer examination he “noticed a huge region of cosmic matter hovering in the sky as if awaiting the right victim in a celestial mugging.”

     MacAdoo fell back. His dog began barking at the sky and a cold chill invaded his bones. He quickly retreated to his pickup and headed back to town where he informed the authorities of his precarious experience.

     Stories of UFOs, and reports of the abnormal are as common as coal in these parts as any longtime resident will tell you. The village police, although feigning interest in his strange story were too busy chasing dogs and cruising snowboarder bars to respond. They promised to patrol the area the next night. MacAdoo went to the bar and shared his story with the town’s swilling element that passed the word along the next day on the street.

     “The Great Attractor is real,” said Dr. Simon Lackluster of Rocky Mountain Biological Weapons Laboratory at Gothic. “Whether MacAdoo saw the thing or not is important. We scientists have been closely watching the critter for some time. We have even spotted a massive galaxy cluster that appears to be at the Great Attractor’s core. It looks a lot like frantic skiers trying to force their way onto a Mountain Express bus at 4:30.”

     One retired television meteorologist from Moline doesn’t agree.

     “I’ve met that MacAdoo person downtown and I think most of us realize he’s nothing more than a common drunk in a ten-gallon hat. That boy didn’t see any galaxy cluster or even an alien craft,” he sneered. “I have conferred with one of the investigating officers and we have reason to believe that what MacAdoo saw was nothing more than a Sunshine Garbage Truck in full descent.”

     After assigning a top reporter to the story The Horseshoe has determined that Sunshine Garbage does in fact maintain a regular night shift in the vicinity of Snodgrass Mountain. This disclosure has set off shock waves all the way to Gunnison as concerned residents, already suspicious of ski area expansion plans there are asking “Who is driving the truck?”

     MacAdoo was contacted early Wednesday morning assuring all in earshot that he saw what he saw and that he can “damn sure tell the difference” between a galaxy cluster and a garbage truck.  

– Small Mouth Bess   

“We have given you a republic, if you can keep it.” – Benjamin Franklin

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foto D Austin

photo by Delinda Austin

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