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This is the San Juan Horseshoe

Celebrating 44 years of Uncompahgre-American satire in 2019

 “The Premier Rocky Mountain Humor/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 directly under the masthead.

Is tuisce deoch na sceat. Fag an bealach! (A story requires a drink. Clear the way!)

Home page rules: Don’t piss off the cook. Don’t touch the other readers.

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

Taking laughter seriously since before smart phones.  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.

Sorry, weekend editions no longer come with Full Irish Breakfast.

Our Pledge to you:

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 humorous 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 newer 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. (Oft the same).

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

and sanjuanhorseshoe@gmail.com

Offices in Colona, Colorado, Hoi An, Vietnam, and Jardin, Colombia

P O Box 1209, Ouray, CO 81427

COPYRIGHT: KEVIN J HALEY 1977 – 2018

Serving Region Zen and the Snotty Beach Communities since 1977.

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.

Kindly show discretion with regards to more exotic tattoos and piercings.

Do not pick wild flowers in the Elk Mountains or your friends’ noses.

EDITOR’S CORONER

Posted before breakfast in the San Juan Mountains, Fall, 2018

Photo for Editor's Coroner

Greetings to the erudite and helter-skelter scholarly and hello to those who arrived on this website by accident. Autumn herself crept into my oak-laden office this morning launching my naked feet into the first chill of the season. There was no ice on the window but the sky brought back memories of mufflers and ponderosa fires, causing my English Ivy to buy a plane ticket to Majorca.

I pull on wool socks in some trepidation anticipating a warm sunrise. Ave Maria! I wonder if its snowing on the moon this morning. Lunar snowplows – Now’s there’s a business to get into…on the ground. One can never be too early to embrace these sorts of opportunities.

Fortunately most of my colleagues work in their pajamas and can easily accommodate a little cold. Union suits work well too but can be inconvenient in ways not yet understood in the tropics. It’s the hands and feet that often become the issue but I have a drawer full of wool socks and I learned to type with mittens in journalism school.

My under-editor is still out back slamming line drives against the building. Yesterday it was a nine-iron but this morning she’s got a Louisville Slugger. I must be patient. Even though she can’t write worth a lick she brings donuts and always makes the coffee. But the woman is a menace. Why can’t she just amuse herself on the solar-powered employee putting green like the rest of us?

My doctor, my dentist, my mechanic…even my lover have all retired as of late August. I guess I expected that they would stay on forever. Now I have to find replacements or risk death, tooth aches, blown engines and the demise of earthly delights. Sadly I can only afford three of the four, a status that will be determined by outside forces.

Then there is Mr. O’Toole who has taken on the job of proofreader while our regular nitpicker is in Denver being fitted for blinders. Although his enemies say he can no longer dress himself we beg to differ here. Just the other night I saw him at a dinner party wearing a lampshade, bow tie and irrigation boots (albeit on the wrong feet). He was engaged in an interview with a long-stemmed lovely from Vogue or Popular Mechanics – one of those snotty fashion magazines. He was incoherent but kept right on filling his glass in fine journalistic aplomb.

The evening was hosted by some bank or the other, the kind that makes a big stunt of buying uniforms for the local football team then telling them not to get them dirty. Simian rodentia anyone?

Mountain lions in the sand traps, bears on the green, moose in the buttermilk, higher primates in carts — golf in Western Colorado in the fall is quite an adventure. With recent shark and rhino attacks in the news I’m glad we don’t have gators or hippos lurking in our linkster lagoons. Here in Colona I have a mother deer and three fawns breaking into my compound mid-day to eat from two apple trees in the back of the property. Up till now my tomato plants have not been on the menu.

The question to the couchpotatus interuptus: Is this the idyllic garden or merely the human predicament all dressed up to go to town? Why is that little man out selling sunglasses in the rain in Medellin? I was just sitting in the Andes one day listening to ice hockey in Spanish when the news forced its way onto the airwaves. Here’s what the fear pimps have for us today, masked as news, but actually a manipulative specimen of baroque royal, a pre-serfdom control mechanism, a peasant’s sampling, a tragic distraction…

Just when we thought morality was making a comeback in the political arena we notice a small buried piece that says Buying Congressmen Decriminalized in DC. That’s reassuring. Can we now buy an Independent too? What about Green Party officials or Russian robots? Below that rousing chatter we see a story continued from page one Pence Offends Andora. Apparently our saintly vice-president called the country’s leaders “a gang of Papist hicks” and now Andora is mobilizing it’s squadron of hot air balloons for war.

Did you know that there are 27 porn stars named Trump in the New York phone book? We analyze the impact of talent on the Oval Office here.

Then comes a rousing expose’ featuring Michael Jackson and Fred Astaire – A comparative peek at modern dance steps (ten-rounder) with photos. Hint: These accounts are better digested with a cold beer and an Aqua Velva miniature, that can be had downstairs in the brunch lounge.

And regarding that hallowed space we have agreed to replace the bust of General Worthington Pablo Gustave “Too Tall” Beauregard with a painting of sheep in clover. The sculpture of the deceased Confederate officer had been a favorite since Beauregard spent the entire war hiding out, dressed as a chorus girl or sometimes a scarecrow and never engaged the enemy. His bust, which looks a lot better than he did, will be relocated to Seizure’s Palace in Pahrump, which was neutral during that hellish conflict.

We follow this gem with a review of The Lizard of Gauze where a young girl named Dorothy is accompanied on a zany road trip by three older males searching for body parts while disguised as a hobo, a robot and a lion. Cameos include Mitch McConnell in full drag as the Wicked Witch of the West. Really now.

Did the statue of Liberty file a restraining order against the House of Representatives due to alleged sexual harassment? When will Jeff Sessions begin executing CEOs of drug companies (zero tolerance) who knowingly pushed opiates on an unsuspecting public that still trusts the medical monopoly? Is it coincidence that after 15 years of military intervention in Hashishistan we have so much heroin on the streets? Do you think it’s being smuggled into the U.S. by people with those bothersome security clearances? Or maybe its those illegal immigrants…

Why are all these old farts voting Republican? Don’t they know they will be the first on the cattle cars heading east?

It’s like showing up on your first day on the job expected to break the Japanese Code before lunch. It’s like that day in Moscow in 1934 when Harpo told the assembled commissars that Groucho, Chico and Zeppo and he were first cousins of Karl Marx, on his mother’s side. (Editor’s note: These similes have little or nothing to do with the above paragraph. They were just lying around in the copy basket begging to be released.)

Is it true that Sarah Huckabee Sanders, Rudy Giuliani and Kellyanne Conway would rather climb a tree and tell a lie than stay on the ground and tell the truth? Younger brother (and sister) must learn to be categorically honest or he will sting himself like a scorpion in a whiskey bath.

In closing we would like to remind everyone that emotional growth hormones may not be safe although they do have a positive affect on people who conceptualize socialism as fury Russian hats, gray overcoats, military parades and knocks on the door late at night. That’s what they teach over at Police State University, isn’t it?

One reminder: If you must call on a god to help you make it through the day please stipulate exactly which god you are talking about. Our switchboards are near default with all the pleas and promises. Stop pestering these deities! They are busy and not all that thrilled with banal whines and interruptions by humans who, like clowns in the Milan Circus, should take control of their lives.

Oh yes, and congratulations to sanjuanhorseshoe.com, a splendid effort just named Best Website in the Free World by both Testosterone Brothers Research and Carnal Ventures Polling and Things. There was no cash prize.

CORECSHUNS

with Dwin “King” Hevaway,
Executive Corrections Editor

Filing cabinets containing our literary cree and mission statements were regrettably misplaced sometime in the early eighties. The result as you can see is not only a publication lacking a “soul” but also a reprehensible waste of what otherwise may have been useful paper and ink.

A casual perusal of letters received by our office over the last several months has led us to the sad yet inescapable conclusion that various personages within our marginal readership are laboring under a vague although quaint misapprehension that we can read.

The Kente cloth worn by our publisher to various graduation ceremonies wherein he received many honorary degrees and coffee mugs is actually the tartan used by his family during the 11th century before they were kicked out of Ireland for keeping geese (and occasional insobriety).

Summer jobs in our news room advertised as “a stepping-stone to a journalistic career” do not involve journalistic activity per se. Instead of “attractive women only need apply” we meant to say “only attractive women will be hired.” We are an equal opportunity employer as long as you don’t take opportunity to mean any kind of chance.

Road conditions reported in our Metro section should not be viewed as current.  Surely, readers understand that information in a monthly newspaper is not intended to be current at the time it is read.  It is only included to confuse Texans, and we would hope that graduates of our fine local schools would understand.

The road map of San Miguel, Cozumel shown in our May issue incorrectly showed stop signs on streets running parallel to the shoreline.  This is actually the exact opposite of the actual case.  There are many reasons to love Mexico, but the lack of 4-way stop signs is not only refreshing, but illustrates a fundament difference between Mexicans and Gringos:  Mexicans have common sense, and an ability to share.

Due to the depth of material in this newspaper, it is recommended that a decompression stop of at least 5 minutes be made reading Rock Soup.  For those of you who have read for less than 10 minutes, or whom only look at the pictures, a five minute safety stop in the obituaries should be sufficient.   

Stuttering and the shakes, exhibited by our editor, are mercifully removed in the editing process.  As these symptoms intensify, it may be necessary to move the editors coroner toa more stable section of the newspaper, or indeed, onto the utter stability of the editing room floor.  Rest assured that the ultimate quality of this publication could not be affected negatively, in the opinion of many leading readers.

Vitamin and mineral figures listed on last month’s contents page were based on the assumption that you can digest cellulose. This assumption is true for many of our readers. MSG is present in some of our color lift-out sections but overall, fewer than 30 percent of our calories come from fat.

Retroactive price increases for which we billed subscribers last month are solely for the purpose of keeping this newspaper out of the hands of children. The names of all subscribers whom fail to pay this assessment will heretofore be listed in our bi-monthly “enemies of kids” inserts.

klan on ferris whell copy

 

 INSIDE YOUR PAPER

RV Divas and Monster Minivans
Autumn is here and traffic is still insane
in Rocky Mountain Lifestyles
Aliens to Paint Chaco Canyon
Anasasi ruins host extraterrestrials
in Decorating For the 21st Century
Erotic Thriller to be Filmed Near Gunnison
Just another fly fishing fantasy?
in Tomichi Cinema Review
Memorabilia Auctions Expand
Offering body parts, bats and uniforms
In Sports Excess
Genetically Altered Horse Runs
on Plastic, Discarded Appliances
Landfills could shrink with further breeding
in Hay, Dude, Your Barn Door’s Open
Polarization of U.S. Worries Santa
Concerns New Ice Age, Civil War and Intolerance
in Big Brother’s Agenda
Fifty Ways to Lease Your Lover
Mortgage Companies Jump into Dating Scene
in Old Maid Miner’s Review
Plus a whole lot more to eat, drink, roll in and be hesitant to approach.
Tune in often. New stories published daily.

guy reading with cow

     

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

     

RESTRICTED BAGPIPE SEASON IRKS LOCALS

(Gunnison) A Division of Tartan announcement that bagpipes would be prohibited from the field in sectors 67 and 68 has drawn the ire of many citizens groups here. For decades bagpipers participated in three distinct seasons with in-state residents having first shot at bellow licenses without incident.

Back then, before the feds started fooling with the seasons everyone knew what was expected of him. The deer and elk were prompt. The hunters were polite. Autumn arrived in splendid fashion with double-reed melodies reverberating from hunting camps from Baldwin to Yahoo City.

Today, bagpipes are banned in the woods due to a misconception on the part of authorities that elk tend to be hypnotized by the ancient sounds. Although the practice of calling prey with bagpipes is documented in the annals of Colorado hunting lore there is not one shred of proof that elk, or even deer have responded in person to the overtures.

“Why do you think there aren’t any elk in Scotland and Ireland today?” asked one Tartan ranger who asked to remain off record. “It’s because the Celts seduced them with the pipes and blasted them to kingdom come,” he probed. “Then they served them up with potatoes and carrots, and onions if they had them. Where do you think the term corned elk comes from?

The controversial symphonic hunting techniques, still preferred by the great unwashed, are expected to continue despite warnings from the gov’ment. Already several country and western artists have recorded bagpipe renditions of popular hunting tunes and the hot cakes are selling like discs.

“They may have outlawed bagpipes in the woods but boom boxes, generators, TVs, RVs, ATVs, gourmet chefs and secretaries are still OK,” said one record promoter. “Let them try to dictate individual musical tastes. We’ll have the FCC all over them.”

foto D Austin

photo by Delinda Austin

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