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This is the San Juan Horseshoe

Celebrating 44 years of Uncompahgre-American satire in 2019

 “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 directly under the masthead

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.

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

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.

LETTERS TO THE FOURTH ESTATE

 To the editor:

Due to poor turnout and lack of support the Gunnison Beach Volleyball Confederation has terminated Winter League play effective December 2019. We will continue to hold open competitions throughout the summer (July 4 – Cattlemen’s Days). A diminished fan base, simulation video games and the rise of skijoring have not helped. Plans to construct indoor facilities were scrapped due to the high cost of white sand.

Estelle Marmotbreath

Antelope Thrills

 

Dear Melvin:

Major League Baseball keeps trying to speed up play by the application of rules governing mound visits and installing pitch clocks while they interrupt the natural flow of the sport by obsessing with instant replay.

If nothing else, this is a slap in the face to the umpires. I say let the humans make the calls and, after the tedious 162-game schedule me thinks the results will work out just about fine and be damn close to the same without the anal-retentive exploration of every play.

Ever since Joseph Stalin instituted the designated hitter option, the money people have been tinkering with baseball. While most were platooned out in right field in their youth, others should know better. In closing, I must acknowledge that when Joe gave you an option you chose one quickly and moved on.

Red Mack-Hart

Ohio City, CO

 

Dear General Horseshoe:

After death does the brain continue to churn out worthless opinions? I hear we grow hair and nails after death and I just wondered what else was going on…If you don’t know just make something up. It will suffice and back up my bar stool epistles.

 Curious in White Pine

 

Dear Horseshoe guys:

I think I have discovered the cure for cabin fever: I just pretend I was held under house arrest and, due to cleverly fooling the guards, that I have escaped into the surrounding forest but have forgotten my mukluks and wire cutters. Is that bloodhounds I hear?

Tammy

Eldridge, Colo

 

To Paula Parvenu, Medical Editor:

Enjoyed your feature series on gout. Yes, my grandfather suffered from the gout and passed it along to my brother and I but that’s not the real story here. Grandpa was so mean and crabby that when he had a gout attack people would kick his toe. Sometimes others would pass by and give him an excruciating pain with a slight tap on his foot with a cane or walking stick. Even little children would torture him too often by “accidentally” dragging a chair across his toe or dropping Tonka toys in the vicinity of his painful malady. Today, thanks to a robust diet of lettuce and tepid water, Grandpa plays rugby and suits up as an extra when the local roller derby team is out of sorts. Sadly, his attitude is still the same.

Brian Haley, BFD, LSMFT

Professor Lariat

University of San Francisco Discovery and Technology

(Frisco Disco Tech)

 

Editor

San Juan Horses

For Immediate Release

It is now quite clear that if an insect apocalypse occurs it is a human apocalypse as well. Leave the bees alone. Catch and release spiders. Stop eating lobster and shrimp. Save the beetles. Limit fly swatting. Feed the cockroaches if you have any. Insect repellent is bad for the ozone.

Harriet “Bugs” Harahan

Head Entomologist

Hymenoptera Terrace

Ouray, CO

 

Dear Melvin:

I’m so tired of listening to the health nuts warning us about bacon and cigarettes. The next thing you know they’ll be warning us as to the dangers of sausage gravy and cigars.

 Oscar Meyer

Smokey Mountains Coal

 

Dear General Horseshoe:

If the sun never sets on Russia how do the people there get a good night’s sleep? Did Darwin ever spend time studying specie origins in Iceland? Have cuffs on the bottom of slacks gone out of style? What exactly is a Hootchie Kootchie Man?

Thanks

Mango Congo

Machete Club East

Baltimore, MD

 

Dear Señor Gringo:

Instead of spending billions on an ineffective and dysfunctional wall on your Mexican border why not try using that money to rebuild the infrastructure of Central America. The wall, built with Russian steel to the fiscal delight of Trump and Putin, will provide little security and skirt the issue of immigration policy once more.

Why are these desperate people crossing deserts and risking imprisonment to come to the United States? Opportunity to improve their lives and the lives of their children. They should be welcomed not shunned and abused.

This logical investment would not result in an overnight fix. Positive results will likely emerge only after the current US Congress is long dead so there will be no instant gratification that can be parroted into campaign slogans and logged in at the polls. No politician can trumpet his/her successes and secure a better seat or a feather in their cap.

Experts predict that the change could take many years, but in no way approaching the number of years that the United States, after Spain and Britain’s mass looting, raped the place in the name of fruit companies and drug wars. Mano dura. 1918 in Nicaragua. 1954 in Guatemala. 1985 in Nicaragua 1990 in Panama. Somoza, Batista, Trujillo, Armas. I could go on.

The United States was the good guys in 1945. Maybe it’s time to be the good guys again. The investment will benefit everyone on the planet.

Spiritually yours,

Augusto Sandino

Great Beyond

Esteli, Nicaragua

 

Dear Snow Flakes:

Your story: Trump Calls For an Army of Wall Builders was out of line. Our president has promised to create a dessert paradise, pay high wages “out of my own pocket like in Atlantic City” and keep criminals out of America.

Your accusation that the dangerous criminals are in the Oval Office is clearly treason.

Yes we will have our wall. A monument to people who do not study history, it will be built out of coal, not Russian steel as you have vainly suggested.

Now it appears that a sophisticated system of trap doors will further discourage illegal immigration.

The assertion that even Fox News is distancing itself from the White House is unfounded. Trump Hotels will not be reeducation camps and Vice President Pence is not going on a one-way voyage to Pluto.

Talk about propaganda. Why can’t you leftists just shut up and support our president? He is making white people great again!

Guns and Moses

Trump in 2022!

“The more I see of people the more I prefer conversations with my horse.”

– Gabby Haze

EDITOR’S CORONER

Posted before breakfast in the San Juan Mountains, early 2019

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 high summer 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 Patriot Comrade Polling. 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
Is this our true heritage or
just another fly fishing fantasy?
in Tomichi Cinema Review
Memorabilia Auctions Expand
Offering body parts, bats and uniforms
In Sports Excess
Genetically Altered Horses Run
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

     

Capsulized Angler Psychograph

It’s time again for all those anxious anglers to scurry all over our beaches and banks in search of the big catch. Since we all have to deal with their odd rituals it may help to classify these sportsmen by pattern of behavior and motivational structure. Once each fisherman is carefully placed in the correct category we can all relax and get a good night’s sleep once again. Pass the tartar sauce.

Quid Pro Cooler – This type of fisherman is only interested in filling up his cooler and getting back to the bar to watch baseball or bowling. He generally shows up on site with a cooler full of generic canned beer and becomes annoyed if he cannot immediately fill the space vacated by each beer with a cooperative fish. This kind of sportsman does not generally obey limits, sneers at game wardens, throws trash on the bank, snores when asleep, spits on the street downtown and may even be fishing without a license as we speak. But we suffer through a tourist economy here and we are happy to have him. Although he rushes off every morning before dawn in truth he’s a hack and cannot tell the difference between a slimy kokanee and canned salmon since his taste buds have been sabotaged by cheap cigars. Best way to deal with Quid Pro Cooler fisherman is to spike his salmon eggs.

Proverbial Troller – This creep prefers a boat so that no one can document his catch and release obsession. Expect to be subjected to foul language and a barrage of lies about how big everything may be. Often this fellow doesn’t even bait his hook and is convinced that it is more important to look good on the lake than to come home with a mess of trout. Eats smaller fish while no one is looking. His hushpuppies are always soggy and his filet knife is dull. The lies are bad enough but this kind of angler usually has bad breath to go with it but at least it keeps that fishy smell at bay. Use garlic marshmallows or baby grasshopper spit.

Fry Boy – This is the person who stands next to you urging you on. He has lots of advice about test line and spinning reels but he never rally gets near the water himself. Often prone to complain that ice fishing season is over. Big on corn meal and holding the net in expectation of that Mackinaw running up the bank. In addition to his next to new equipment this fellow is known to haul cookbooks, caste iron pans, table cloths and a tasteful center piece to the picnic grounds despite the complaints of other more hardy anglers. Despite his graduation from the late, great Botsie Spritzer’s Fly Fishing Academy this guy hasn’t got a clue but he sometimes has extra beer. Smoked sucker on the surface works best.

Femme Fishtail – Probably the most creative angler is the femme fishtail. She never baits her own hook and despite the fact that she knows more about fishing (from dad) than the boys, she plays dumb. Check out the high heel waders. She may be trolling for the Kingfish but the eager to please Minnow, already on the hook, will do for the time being. Notice that this fishing beauty never cleans or cooks either. She thinks fishing is stupid. She just enjoys flirting with the elements which includes any male within 100 yards. Good for her. She probably never even pays for her own fishing license. Trolling works best in murky waters. Use diamond necklace or pearls on #86 nylon test line.

Fly Fantasizer – This is the guy that stands all alone, down the bank, usually in an old trench coat, dark glasses and a dirty hat with lures attached. He scares the fish. He claims to tie his own flies but his fly is always down. Wears suspenders. Keep young children and small pets away from this guy. Not particularly olfactory in his piscatorial endeavors but always seems to be in the middle of the fish. His very presence suggests that maybe fishing is not a real sport after all. At home with carp. Often a high water daredevil, he’s the guy that’s casting while everyone else is filling sandbags. Bites on anything rescued from the local landfill.

– Small Mouth Bess

“If de land make you too hot, jump into de sea.”

– common advice on the island of Carriacou, Grenada

foto D Austin

photo by Delinda Austin

No animals were armed during the construction of this website.

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