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Math Department to Measure Snow

(Crested Butte) Standouts in the WSC Math Department will assist CBMR staff in determining valid snow depths for the coming ski season. In the past the reports have been questionable at best according to sources here near the ground.

     In addition to the calculations the students will provide statistical analysis which could go a long way toward easing world hunger, global warming and the common cold. In addition it may even help keep snowboarders off the hill on holy days.

     According to one participant the snow depth measurements have a lot to do with moisture, the angle of sunlight, the price of Jim Beam and the cross referencing of skier days. Despite a drop in season pass rates these elements will continue to be controlled by the iron fists of the Caraway family.

     Meeting during a field trip to a local field, math majors pledged to provide unbiased square root reports and carefully police the slopes after all metric conversions.      

– Tar Sands

“If you kill that spider Buddha will get you.”

                      – from Guilt Trips for Buddhist Christians by Melvin O’Tao

Take Winter Health Warnings To Heart

(Montrose) Local physicians here agree even without a flu shot most of us will survive the winter. Besides being colder and noticeably darker the period from December through February holds many unpleasant surprises for the uninitiated. Getting stuck in the snow or coming home to frozen pipes is nothing compared to life-threatening disease, brain deterioration and slow starvation.

First and foremost residents and visitors alike are reminded that dog hair and ashes are not a suitable substitute for daily fiber in one’s diet. While these household particles may seem normal to most of us we cannot ignore our need for nutritional balance. Of course we have come a long way since bleeding with leeches, mindless limb amputations and primitive chanting but watch out for nouvelle vague trends such as consensual cannibalism, leftover colcannon and sneeze warts as the winter drags on. In the final analysis these ribald solutions help nobody and can cause lots of problems down the road. Cutting edge doctors suggest a nice tumbler of aged Nicaraguan rum with every meal (especially breakfast) and two before bed. The balance of reality to perception must be explored!

Even if you are a strict vegetarian doctors here suggest that you apply a liberal amount of writer’s block on your face and extremities when venturing out into the Colorado sunshine. Avoiding the harmful rays of self-absorption and literary prowess is not only logical but it’s the law! Ignore your health and your storybook existence will soon be in the dumpster with all the bad novels and crummy films that one could suffer in a lifetime.

– Dianna Pettifogger

Continued when your next health insurance bill arrives

Tranquility amidst the throngs

This beautiful statue in the plaza in Jardin, Colombia honors motherhood and family. It offers a peaceful reprieve from the maddening crowds of tourists in town for the holidays.

A BEAT NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

‘Twas the night before Christmas

And all through the castle

Not a digger was stirring

It was just too much hassle.

(Most of us had been down at Golden Gate Park all day diggin the music and were too wasted .)

The stockings were flung on the floor and the chair

Grab me my pants, there’s a party up there.

(Despite chronic fatigue the cat upstairs was making some kind of racket but soon he’ll be cool since his woman gets off work by seven.)

The horn men were nestled with notes in their heads

While visions of reefer waltzed with second hand threads.

(The North Beach Good Will has just scored new duds, the kind afforded by clothes horse jazz musicians who seem to be between gigs.)

And momma come home to see all this crap

She settled his brains and I don’t hear no rap.

(As expected the lady upstairs arrived home at the usual time and found her man engaged in extra-curricular diversions with an assortment of new friends. A gunshot. Another.)

When out on the highway there arose Dharma batter

The straights cruised on by engulfed in their chatter.

(Why do you want to show up to work everyday when there are places in this very galaxy that you have never been?)

Away to the window I flew like jack flash

Pulled down the Venetians, securing my stash.

(I wanted to see if the cat upstairs was alive or dead but I thought I’d better hide my stash before the North Beach Gestapo started asking a lot of questions.)

The moon and the rest of the ash-ridden snow

Convinced me that midday was too late to go.

(This place is nowhere. With a little luck and the right boxcar I could be in Mexico City for the New Year.)

When what to my wandering mind should appear

But San Francisco’s finest from the front and the rear.

(Somebody in the building must have called up the heat when they heard the shots. They were everywhere, responding in their noted Zen vigor in this neighborhood infested with home sapiens of the discarded variety.)

At my door an old sergeant, with stick of the night

I can’t wait till morning…it’s exit…stage right!

(My duffel bag lay packed in the corner. Once on my back it was out the door leading me to more tolerant horizons.)

More rapid than accurate I headed uptown

Grabbed a bus for the freight yard and waited around.

(The midnight train ride down the coast to LA would be a cold one but I could sleep on the beach in Santa Monica in the morning.)

A weathered old brakeman called out in the rain

If you’ve got ample dollars you’ll be riding this train.

(The tired, old drunk wanted some bread for letting me ride the boxcar. I promised him some Mexican grass and offered him a hit off my Thunderbird and, cursing, he wandered off.)

As wilted, dry leaves before hurricanes fly

I am one with the boxcar, fused to the Pacific sky.

(Finally headed toward Southern California, I polished off the wine and fell asleep despite the chill and the cold metal floor.)

So up through the mountains steel coursers they flew

With a cargo of nothingness as their time clock punched two.

(We hit the Coastal Range in the middle of the night as the full moon made another cameo appearance.)

And then in a twinkling I heard on the roof

The brakeman, another…resenting my spoof.

(The railroad cops didn’t appreciate my travel arrangements for the evening and when we stopped at Salinas they tossed my ass off the iron beast and into an unlikely Christmas Eve.)

As I brushed my self off and was turning around

Down the tracks dragged a hobo not making a sound.

(I had just seen this bum down in the Tenderloin last week. He was snoring away in a skid row hotel lobby, too drunk to make it up the stairs to his two-dollar flop.)

He was dressed all in rags from his head to his foot

His clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

(A bad dream Kris Kringle in the freight yard of America’s last brush with authentic culture?)

His meager belongings he had thrown in a sack

He smelled like a junkie and let out a hack.

(His personal hygiene didn’t improve with closer proximity.)

His face was one wrinkle, all haggard and hairy

He clung to Wild Roses and a jug of sweet sherry.

His droll, little mouth was drawn up like a bow

The fuzz on his chin as gray as winter So-Ho.

He rolled up two skags, “To you I bequeath”

The smoke pouring out from his cave of no teeth.

(The cat had played out his future in baggy pants and shoes force marched through an alcoholic haze.)

His poker face deluded, a bad loser still game

He choked when he spoke but he spoke just the same.

Uncapping his prize he delivered a belt

And I grabbed for the bottle, in spite of myself.

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head

Out there in hell’s freight yard the hobo dropped dead.

(Time had run out for this earth-bound angel who had never spent Saturday mornings mowing his lawn in the suburbs or driving kids around in a new Ford Station wagon.)

I picked up his dreams, locked tight with no key

Next stop: Potter’s Field for this snarled refugee.

(A watchman helped me cover him and called the cops. There would be no heartbroken relative to identify him, no one to cry at his grave.)

Then catching the time, I watched for a freight

Skillfully boarding, make LA by eight

Back on a boxcar, I slept on my duffel

Agonized at the thought of that wino’s last shuffle.

But desolation’s despots on angels take toll

One long ago Christmas deep deep in my soul.

                                 – Paradise Stolen, 1959

  

Trumpty Dumpty’s great fall

Tweets emanating from the White House strongly suggest that President Trump is “acutely put off” by Attorney General Jeff Sessions’ contract do Kentucky Fried Chicken ads in Georgia and Alabama in 2018. Remaining defiant in the eye of the hurricane, the Jiminy Cricket of the judicial wing “has dug in his heels on this one”, according to unreliable sources in the Oval Office. Both men served under the original Colonel Sanders in the Homeric wars long before your Aunt Bob and Uncle Mary were born.

In a related incident, Kelly Ann Conway would make a wonderful opiate czarina according to Betsy DeVos the perky yet ill-equipped Education Czarina.

Fellow students remember DeVos as not bright enough to remember her locker number, much less the combination of same. Sometimes she showed up at the wrong school altogether due to “the multitude of buses going by every morning”. Despite these embarrassing setbacks, Betsy became president of the Daughters of Religious Intolerance and was an alternate cheerleader.

Both women have been unfairly called petty and mindless, even by fellow Republicans, but they are loyal Trumpettes.

Meanwhile Conway continues to argue vehemently that 45’s hair is his own while the world floods, burns and gets nuclear. When asked by reporters if she wore a hair piece, she stormed from the room and has barricaded herself (along with Sarah Huckabee Sanders and DeVos) in the Oval Office with only Russian caviar and holy water (Russian vodka) to sustain them until the weekend. Talk about patriots!

For more please turn to:

Trump May Move US Capitol Off-Shore

– Johnny Cake Jr.

CHRISTMAS SHOPPING FOR WINOS

A hardly sensitive guide to buying for these special people

The holiday season places a heavy burden on our scarce organizational resources.  The simple task of evaluating holiday invitations and culling those that do not seem to involve free alcohol, coupled with the tragic choices presented when more than one well-oiled affair will occur simultaneously, is quite enough to drive one to the local for a splash or two of respite. 

No task, however, so beleaguers one as the daunting prospect of gift shopping for that special wino that we all seem to have on our holiday gift list.  Of course we know exactly what type of gift will scream “open me first” on that magic morning.  We so hope however to do more.  We hope to enrich the life our wino friend without encumbering his or her enviable lifestyle.  This modest guide is intended to assist in the difficult process of shopping for the person who needs nothing.

Start by eliminating those many popular gifts for which a wino has no use.  A clock radio is a good example.  In fact anything that needs to be plugged in is right out.  Very few bridges have outlets underneath them.  Cologne or after-shave may seem to be an appropriate gift, however, mixing perfume with a wino’s natural odors may induce vomiting and if they read the label and discover the alcohol content they will invariably drink it which will also induce vomiting and perhaps blindness since it is the wrong type of alcohol. Also forget about any item that can be easily pawned. 

The obvious result is that your wino friend will only realize the discounted value of the gift while some pawnbroker will receive the lion’s share of value.  A cash gift is often appropriate, but too large of a cash gift will inexorably inure to the benefit of those who prey on winos and or be squandered immediately in an unholy binge benefiting merchants and other winos more than the object of your generosity.  Anything not easily carried will be of little use to the wino.  Few winos have access to any kind of reliable storage, and once out of sight the item will most likely be forgotten and abandoned. 

Anything that would be highly coveted by other street people such as gang members is not a wise gift.  Gold chains, boom-boxes, Air-Jordans and Raiders jackets are bad, even dangerous gifts for winos.  A little bit of common sense will save you the needless embarrassment and wasted expenditure for a gift that will do your favorite wino very little good.

Now, how to find out what your wino friend wants and needs.  An obvious approach is to consider the subject while buying a drink for your wino friend.  Examine his or her costume for items that obviously need replacement. 

Keep in mind that many winos become irrationally attached to certain items of clothing and you should determine if that is the case by pointing out the item and asking them how they feel about it.  If they don’t tell you a long and incomprehensible story about it they probably don’t care.  Pay special attention during those quiet moments when your wino friend goes into soliloquy.  Many winos reveal their deepest wants and needs while talking to themselves. 

Even if delirious, your wino friend can often point you in the right direction.  Bartenders are also a valuable resource in your quest for the appropriate gift.  Not only are bartenders quite likely to have overheard the monologues and conversations of your wino friend, but long hours of interaction and one-to-one contacts while breaking up fights or when extending invitations to vacate premises provide bartenders with revealing information about winos. 

Another good source of information is the liquor store where your wino friend’s social security disability check is mailed. 

These good merchants can not only tell you what kind of liquid refreshment your wino friend favors, but can also inform you based on their frequent contacts and conversations with your wino friend.  Winos often reveal their fondest and innermost desires to liquor store clerks, since they always feel safe and at home in their favorite liquor store. 

Finally, you can talk to the local constables who often know your wino friend quite well.  While such public servants can often be insensitive and crass with their opinions of what your friend might need, they can just as well be quite insightful and are therefore worthy of your inquiries.

When executing your holiday purchases for winos be practical.  Very few winos are the type of snobs who examine boxes and labels for prestigious stores and brand names.  Army surplus merchandise is often not only the most economical choice, but from a practical standpoint, is often of appropriate quality so as not to make your wino friend feel out of place when interacting with colleagues.  Items that can be hosed off rather than laundered are always much more convenient for winos.  Dry cleaning is not a practical requirement for wino attire.  Do not get hung up on tradition. 

It is neither necessary to wrap gifts to winos, nor is it reasonable to expect them to not open till Christmas.  Winos live in the here and now.  If an item is of use to them they need it now.  Liquid gifts should also be practical.  Most of the favored wino refreshments (fortified wines, cheap rum and malt liquor) are available in plastic 1/2 pints, pints and quarts. 

Larger bottles are impractical (except in the case of malt liquor which is consumed on the spot), and may even injure your wino friend during falls.  Plastic bottles also eliminate the heartbreak that can occur when a valued gift is lost through breakage.  Gifts of food should not require special opening appliances, like can openers, which may be unavailable and or may injure your wino friend.  Food gifts should also be very rich in protein, fat and calories since food is a rare treat for many winos and should be as nourishing as possible.

In summary, gift shopping for winos can be a rewarding experience, both for you and the wino.  Don’t worry about making a mistake since winos rarely remember where they got things anyway.  The warmth and good cheer of the holiday season is always enhanced when you feel you have done something to help your good friends. Most importantly, sit (or fall) down and enjoy a drink with your wino friends who always provide a cheerful perspective on life since they quite simply know what is important and how to have a good time.

Dwin “King” Hevaway    

 

“There’s no money in feeding the poor yet your Bible tells you to do just that.”

– from The Crusader’s Dilemma  by Dieter Upanishads