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This is the San Juan Horseshoe

Meanderings from the ridiculous to the sublime

Welcome and please remove shoes before entering categories such as Lifestyles and Soft News, accessible at all hours of the day and night by clicking on stupid names under the masthead.

Official humor website of the Unwed Mothers of the American Revolution (1775 – 2014).

Contains: Whole grain truths, riveting projection and funny sheep jokes. 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  fish emersion and elite slipshod hooey see the large, fuzzy-hatted man at the door. Leave all backpacks, weapons and livestock with him.

Disclaimer: Reading may cause dizziness at altitudes above 60 feet. It’s easy enough to argue with facts but almost impossible to argue with nonsense. Sorry, weekend editions no longer come with funny papers and Full Irish Breakfast.

No cigars before eleven please.

This website has evolved from the comedic newspaper 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 Shanghai wanting to borrow a cup of noodles. Back in May a woman in Bilbao sent us a humorous Basque Valentine.

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 the absurd.

Comedians appearing in the pages fly Excelsior Airlines, The Airlines Without Chairs in return for discount donuts, casual sex, free wedding announcements, Havana cigars and investment counseling. They are only real if you believe in them and endorse their unprovoked attacks on windmills. It’s kinda like Tinkerbell with a side of Pinocchio. There are no inherently bad characters in this newspaper and no one has died in these pages since 1977, so let’s not start with all this now.

Persons seeking special consideration with the front line of the Pea Green Symphony Orchestra should approach each member on a one-to-one basis. Remember to ring at the archaic Moldavian gate and under no circumstances should anyone employ the linen elevator for personal travel or tip the dumb waiter for later considerations. Admission is generally one unused joke or a shopping bag full of laughs.

Thanks to our advertisers who have kept the authorities out of our backyard by paying off cheap, tin local officials. Fermentation of dangerous ideas and malt beverages encouraged. It is indeed a privilege to live in Western Colorado but a month or so south in the winter don’t make you a bad person.

Contact us: sanjuanhorseshoe@montrose.net and

sanjuanhorseshoe@gmail.com

P O Box 1209, Ouray, CO 8142

COPYRIGHT: KEVIN J HALEY 1977 – 2014

A Parody of a Paradox

Serving Region Zen and the Snotty Beach Communities since 1977. Yet another fine product from Musick’s Bad Tuna Aftershave, makers of perfumes, lotions & fine aperitifs since before the French Revolution.

News stories written by people that weren’t there either.

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Editor’s Coroner

Welcome castellans, bellwethers and, the uncomfortably waggish! This issue of the San Juan Horseshoe is particularly hilarious because it was penned while plowing snow at the top of Mt Sneffels, listening to a fine mix of salsa and samba full throttle. We go where the funny  lives and don’t wait around for laughs to come knocking on our door.

Take for instance our in-depth coverage of the Bigfoot appearances in Borneo. He was reportedly 10-feet tall according to the director of national parks there who quickly discounted rumors that the thing looked like Vladimir Putin.

How about the photo piece on Horseshoe reader Granny Gilmore from over in Gunnison? She celebrated her 117th birthday Friday and the old girl got smashed right along with everyone else. What a vamp! Says she’s never been to a doctor, owned a cell phone or watched television. Here is a dose of the interview we extracted once the debauchery slowed to a crawl:

“I don’t believe those nice doctors or the nice people on TV.” she quipped, sipping a tumbler of single malt scotch, which she clasped in her hand like a newborn monkey clasps its mother. “I just thank those boys up there on the Isle of Islay that the sun comes up every morning.”

Apparently jokesters over at the Sociable Security Administration has begrudgingly admitted that funds collected from out of town workers (illegals) have been keeping the system afloat. We go to the border to interview the architects of the new Great Wall of Sonora. Many illegals and others with marginal paperwork pay in and take nothing out because they aren’t really here. It’s easier that way, like most of the problems that face our nation. How convenient. They never covered this concept in micro-economics. You’ll love or hate this story depending on your prescribed legitimate daily bodily function code*, provided at minimal cost by the laughter lobby at the  federal gov’ment.

Here’s a humorous story we all can relate to: Sex does not cure stupidity. Herein we present the silly results of a five-year national survey, laying out the sad news complete with graphs, tables and colored maps. Here deep in the Rocky Mountains we are only reporting the news before it reports us.

Turn to the sports page and digest the continuing sagas as the Denver Nuggets and Colorado Rockies wallow in the paint and the infield respectively. Meanwhile the Broncos are attempting to buy the Vince Lombardi Trophy before Peyton hits 80. What strange headlines will these franchises provide us this year?

Meanwhile, lovely hometown Colona is right where it wants to be with no real government at all unless one considers the county or the state which maintain a bright orange, though subtle, even comedic presence. Decisions, if there are any, are made on the local level without the interference of bureaucrats from the outside. It’s mostly cows and shadow cow accessories here. No cartoon town hall, no cynical dog warden, no hilarious parking meters. The proletariat chariot** (bus) comes through Southwestern Colorado once a day on its way to such centers of culture as Salt Lake or El Paso.

Yesterday we finished cleaning up after an anarchist wind and tomorrow it’s time to prepare for another Rocky Mountain snow season. Autumn, disguised in two-faced, fevered plumage, manifests classic laissez-faire diplomacy, with its deranged, flip-flopping weather coming down off the San Juan or the Elk Mountains.

Defined as the absence of any form of political authority, anarchy may represent too much freedom for many of us. A dangerous secondary definition, political disorder and confusion, is just the kind of closed mindedness that, along with rap music, bad headcheese and Archduke Ferdinand, gives the concept a bad name.

Anarchy has been incorrectly defined by many as bedlam and turmoil, the fear of the Bolshevism Boogieman was manipulated by the 19th Century powers-that-be to keep the worker’s movements down and single out mustachioed, Eastern European radicals with funny sounding names and bombs in the basement (if they had one).

In the late 19th century in Colorado it all came to a head. The labor wars were particularly violent as workers were all but the property of mine owners…a sort of left-handed serfdom barging in from the unlocked back door. State sponsored terrorism at Ludlow, itchy-fingered militias at Fort Peabody, dangerous working conditions leading to the disaster at Jokerville, gun-slinging bullies on the company payroll…anarchy in its purest form. The state guarding the money, protecting the investments of the rich, just like stone-faced soldiers with machine guns in front of the bank in Rio de Janeiro and Mexico City.

It continues today with our two-party system where voters can choose between poll-watching millionaires wrapped in slightly different colored packaging, while in countries like Italy there are more than 25 functioning political parties and far more personal freedom. (Example: Taking one’s dog into a restaurant, selling homemade wine on the corner or wearing stolen designer sunglasses after dark ).

What has your gov’ment done for you lately? Hard saying but one thing is for sure. The benefits derived from a standing government diminish as one ascends from local to federal. The town waters the park, the state plows snow, the feds drop bombs on other countries.

*A lot like security codes introduced by Homefire Security only these distinctions apply to the rare bowl movement syndrome, consequent mental bloating and the effects on pell-mell thinking produced by these mercurial symptoms. 

** a term coined by a learned Canadian*** friend

*** learned Canadian, while not a common status, is recognized as a achievable state by Websters.

 “Corrections”

Extracted from

“Humor can also be funny”

by Dwin “King” Hevaway

Moto Guzzi mating calls diagrammed in the San Juan Horseshoe’s wild life supplement were shown for maximum HP @ 6200 RPM.  Most adult male Moto Guzzis prefer to call at or around 5,000 RPM unless passing Harleys.

Anyone posting smut web addresses in our Western Colorado chat rooms is reminded that very few of our readers have credit cards.  It is very cruel of all of you to restrict access to the good stuff and you should give us a “checks in the mail” option for unlimited barely 18 viewing.

In light of Homer Simpson’s withdrawal from the presidential campaign, we hereby withdraw our February endorsement.  After careful consideration, we have chosen to support John McCain again, since he is the only candidate who talks to himself and because we haven’t had a mean little bastard as President for too long (since Harry Truman in fact).

Contrary to reports in other local media, the February no-knock raid on our executive offices yielded no illegal substances.  The 10,000 some odd gallons of wine seized by Ouray County deputies was in fact returned to us when we offered credible evidence that the wine was strictly for personal use in forced comedy sessions performed as political humor diversions.

In our 2014 fall subscription drive, we inaccurately reported that subscriptions to this newspaper are tax deductible.  We have been notified by the IRS that the subscription price is only deductible for:  1) those subscribers who leave the issues in their waiting rooms without reading them personally,  2) subscribers with a note from their psychotherapists, and 3) subscribers who only use them in commercial outhouses or as kindling for wood stoves in tourist cabins.  Since these categories cover some 90% of our readers, we do not feel obligated to make any refunds to non-qualifying subscribers.  It is always prudent to check with you tax advisor before acting on the advise of this newspaper. Laughter index figures are not alway valid. We suggest a daily dosage of humor pills and plenty of rest.

Lotto numbers published in our last issue were not in fact winning numbers (we never said they were).  Any readers who quit their jobs and drove to the lottery office in Denver are reminded that from time to time there are items in this newspaper are classified as Western Colorado Humor Files not strictly fact based and should not be relied upon by reasonable and prudent people.  (By the way, we have career opening for circulation personnel if you can’t get your jobs back).

 

Unusual, Often Funny Terms employed on this

Humorous Western Colorado website

 Virason – A sea breeze. An allergy akin to surfer’s toe which is the source of much humor in water sports.

Timbal- 1.) the kettledrum 2.) the vibrating membrane in the shrilling organ of the cicada.

Agouara – 1.) any of the various wild dogs of South America. 2.) a comedic crab-eating raccoon.

Ullage – 1.) the empty part of a partially filled liquor container 2.) liquor dregs.

Balatron – a joker; a clown, a funny man . A gypsy who lives by the seat of his pants on his sense of humor

Babery – 1.) finery to please a baby. 2.) grotesque ornamentation or absurdity.

Humor – 1.) an attempt to make someone laugh or lighten up. 2.) something potentially funny 3.) regional wit attributed to regions such as the Rockies. 4.) Ha Ha Ha ha ha ha….

Syngenesophobia – fear or dislike of relatives.

Crepitate – to make funny crackling noises; to crackle or rattle repeatedly.

Cynanthropy – a type of insanity in which a person thinks she’s a dog.

Cushlamochree – darling (Irish: vein of my heart). Also cushlamachree. See acushla.

Valgus – bowlegged or knock-kneed cowboys common to the Rocky Mountains.

 

INSIDE THIS ISSUE

RV Divas and Monster Minivans

Ouray tourism a Three-Ring Circus

in Rocky Mountain Lifestyles

Aliens to Paint Chaco Canyon

Anasazi ruins host extraterrestrials in Southwest

in Decorating For the 21st Century

Erotic Thriller to be Filmed Near Gunnison

Just another fly fishing fantasy say critics

in Cinema Review

Colorado Sports Memorabilia Auctions Expand

Offering body parts along with bats and uniforms

In Sports Excess

Genetically Altered Horse Runs

on Plastic Bottles, Discarded Appliances

Western Slope 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 Sense of Humor Erosion

in Big Brother’s Agenda

Fifty Ways to Lease Your Lover

West Slope Mortgage Companies Jump into Dating Scene

in Business of the Day

Plus a whole lot more to eat, drink, roll in and be hesitant to approach.

Pick up your copy wherever canned laughter is sold.

Letters to the editor

Letter policy: No unsolicited correspondence will be accepted after business hours. All E-mail and letters undressed to our editor will be turned over to the dog for further examination. Absolutely no material will be returned. No letters will be acknowledged, much less answered in the order that they were received. Writer’s guidelines are not for public consumption. All checks will be cashed upon receipt. All cash will be seized and used to buy gifts for unstable advertisers. Services pending.

Dear General Horseshoe:

We don’t understand why the air-conditioned Super Wal-Mart, recently erected in Kabul offends the Muslim element there. Where is their sense of global consumerism? Have they no sense of humor? Hardly anything in here is made in the USA. Don’t they want to buy worthless things cheaper? Is it because we have already put all the ma and pa kiosks and markets out of business? Don’t they appreciate sweat shop designer clothing? C’mon, it’s policy to frisk all suspected Arabs at the front door and then sell prayer rugs at 50% off! Was it that Taliban rummage sale that set them off?

We plan a brand new store in Baghdad and one for Tehran next year. K-Mart can have North Korea–They don’t have any money anyway. The Afghanis love the chicken, the burgers, the chemical pizza and the tacos. Why are they so displeased with us?

Saddam Walton, Lawhore Pakistan

 

To the editor:

In a recent issue you listed a roster of effective aphrodisiacs easily found in the Rockies. Some, like the aspen leaves and the freckle tree bark seem easy enough to acquire while the honey bear tongue, the meadow mermaid pollen, the biting ferns and alpine sugar beet blossoms could involve some further research. My question is this: Can I buy these things on-line? I realize you suggest a hike through the forest but I’m reluctant to go out of the house due to possible terrorist attacks. PS: How will I know if any of your sensual remedies take?

Margot Rotweiller, Arvada, CO

 

Dear Editor:

For decades my daddy’s and his company polluted the planet, exploited the poor, experimented on animals, sub-divided farmland, and then, the day before his retirement, absconded with his employee’s pension funds and ran off with the pool man. He currently pimping time shares in Guatemala City.

Now, thanks to a healthy trust fund I’m living here in beautiful Telluride but I’m not happy. I want to be an political activist like all the celebrities around me. I’d do anything to make up for the sins of my father.

Maybe I could send some grain to Africa, reintroduce timber wolves to San Miguel County, bankroll a couple of scholarships for the underprivileged, rescue some kitties from the pound, bail out a bankrupted gov’ment or ship medical supplies to Syria. Can you recommend a trustworthy broker/money manager?

I have this morning free to make amends but later in the afternoon I have to take my Range Rover to Montrose for a tune-up. Tomorrow its a pedicure and tennis lessons. Thursday my dog is scheduled for grooming and Friday the caterers are coming. Then, over the weekend I have a hot date with a member of a fashionable minority group. On Sunday I fly to Grand Junction to go shopping. Monday is my polo night. Maybe we could just meet for lunch some Tuesday in October.

Quite Sincerely

Radical Sister, Mountain Village

 

Dear General Horseshoe:

The 30,000 Dick Cheney masks that you had us send to North Dakota have been stolen by looters. Now we’ll never be able to sort things out. People here in the tracking fields often are void of a sense of humor. Hal Burton

Resurrection Oil, Laramie, WY

 

Dear Humor Editor:

Congratulations on your recent editorial decision to combine your editorial and obituary pages. The entire department is now more concise, organized and meaningful. Hell, with any luck you might save a tree or two in the process. Greetings too from my Uncle Earl who still thinks your writing sucks.

Rupport Murdoch, Perth