Author Archive for M. Toole
Elf Profiling Nets Viagra Bust
Special to the Ridgway Demon Press
(Christmas Island—December 12, 2014) Police here have arrested a dozen elves charging them with smuggling. The contraband, three kilos of viagra, was discovered during a routine stop. The elves say they were victims of profiling. The cops say their brake lights were out.
Distrust of strangers has always been part of the local culture here, especially on December 26 when the island is deluged with Christmas refugees like elves and reindeer.
We don’t know what will happen to the elves and frankly could give a damn. It was the headline that had potential.
EDITORIAL
(Montrose, CO—December 20, 2022)
If Santa intends to maintain his position of grandeur during the holidays, he must control his entourage. Every year good citizens are subjected to foul language, brawling and petty theft. Last December our proof reader observed three elves taking a piroutte leaks off the roof of our solar-powered newsroom.
Now, as many of you are aware, there is a big debate about elves in prison. Liberals whine saying the proportions indicate disparity of economic opportunity. Crap.
The last thing we need to go with the Christmas hype is a bunch of crude little men, often inebriated, roaming the rooftops. Santa, dude, control your wee helpers. We are well armed and tired of their arrogance.
King Finbar in the Americas
(continued from page 4)
and when he actually put in on that North American beach in 993 the playful, tattooed red men had already made off with the barrels of aged whiskey the sailors had brought along for emergencies.
“Let them have it,” grogged King Finbar. “We will simply make more this evening! They have plenty of corn.”
The landing party, comprised of Brian the Fair, McDougal of Ballyshannon, and their numerous squires and harlots stared up at the eucalyptus trees, not knowing that they had been planted by marauding Spanish pirates only months before. There were the straight masts for their boats. The posts were popular too since the ladies of the night tended to dry wet bikinis from them at the end of the day.
Hacking their way through the jungle the thirsty and salty visitors stopped for the night in a small clearing 200 yards from the sea.
“Tomorrow we shall claim this wild land in the name of Brian Boru of Tara,” smiled Finbar, busily mapping the extremities of the beach. “We will create a Celtic empire where no white man has roamed before!”
The band set out that very evening to carve out a little civilization in the encroaching jungle. First they had to erect a still so that the highly sensative fermentation process could begin without another moment going to waste. In addition to corn they would need fresh water, barley and a pinch of rye with which to concoct the evening’s pleasantries…but alas, these were nowhere to be found on the desert isle. It was now simple: The natives must be subdued and the original barrels recovered.*
Then they herd laughter from the brush…Like magic the red men had returned…blasted and back for last call. With them they brought tobacco, pumpkins and a substantial store of corn and barley with which to make more drink. Greeting them cautiously, King Finbar asked to speak to their chief and a fine feathered brave emerged, stepping forward into the light of the moon.
He soon agreed to act as our guide if we would simply share our recipe for our beauty juice where the tediums of life turned miraculously to silly dreams. Everyone agreed and smiled. That may have been the first cocktail hour ever chronicled in North America. The frowning Jesuits who had accompanied the anxious crew across the endless ocean were less than approving of the arrangements with the heathens so they were forced back to the ship to spend the night.
They spent three days with the natives and all went quite well. The only real problem occurred when a squire to McDougal was dragged off by a skitish Caribbean Ecelot while securing firewood. After serious consternation the Celts decided that they would continue the festivities and look for the unfortunate soul at first light. Most of the now stumbling revelers were beginning to appreciate their surroundings although several fell sick to the plague of green whiskey and the queer presence of tiny insects that insistently flew up their collective noses.
At the end of the barrels most of the troupe boarded small boats and returned to the mother ship leaving a skeleton crew on the island to establish a colony. Two or three years later boatmen traveling under the protection of Fitzgerald the Imp landed at the site of the first still and found no sight of even a bartender, much less the residue of the brave Irish who had stayed behind. It was the consensus of the Fitzgerald group that the Irishmen had run out of corn and moved farther down the coast. That was that. Fitzgerald himself returned to Ireland in 999 and was killed fighting Vikings who, having taken their own press clippings to heart, engaged in a frontal attack along the bridgets of the River Liffey.
*It was also common practice to add several live lobster to give the blend a kind, old variance.
Next month: King Finbar in the Vestibules of Valhalla
ARE YOU RIGHT WITH GRAMMAR?
BY EDWIN WHOM PHD, BFD
This week’s lesson in proper grammar will focus on the use of popular food names correctly in a sentence or paragraph. Now then try this one on for size: His spam-like gestures began as the very fruit of intuition marinating her eggy disposition and precipitating, as if a noodle in heat, her steamy hambone smothered in green chili sauce. She was clearly overcooked, as if awaiting a steeping rhubarb beyond the kitchen’s intent.
What is the subject of this wry sentence? The predicate? What exactly are spam-like movements? Can you show us? Why would someone use the term eggy when there are so many other words to choose from in the English language?
Now try this sentence on for size: Bill seemed rather adenoid at his half-brother’s lack of concern for the dangling corned beef and verbiage; now stubbornly searching under fat river rocks for further aux pas with a side of angry salmon mothers with little attempt to correct the inaccuracies of interior lighting and general well-being. What about ascetics? Doesn’t anyone here care for ascetics? He growled turning over tables and crashing through a picture window that lurched in his way.
Does Bill find fault with everything and everyone, or just with the tragic members of his immediate family? Where does Bill’s brother work? Should they farm him out for extended therapy or simply hire a nose and throat man? How long should one cook verbiage above 7000 feet?
Until later this be Edwin Whom, PhD saying so long!
“I would rather make love to Lillian Russell stark naked than to Ulysses S. Grant in full military regalia.”
– Mark Twain
Par-3 golf in Rio Negro, Colombia
When you stay at the beautifully landscaped Hotel Isak in Rio Negro (above Medellin and near the international airport) you can play the par-3 golf course located behind the place. Rates start at $35 for the hotek room and $5 for golf. It was chilly today (December 15) with temperatures plummeting to the high 60s.
Socialist candidate irons own shorts
(Crested Butte) When one is talking authentic grass roots lifestyles, it may be important. It may scream out that this candidate is the real thing in 21st Century politics. He claims to live and die for the workingman, to be the sentinel perched in the little person’s corner. Supporters say he’s a pit bull when it comes to defending the rights of forgotten groups and the disenfranchised.
Now they say he irons his own underwear.
After months of campaigning, the 5th District candidate for burgermeister Mario Hercules has come clean with reporters, telling them that he would never hire a fellow human to wash his clothes or clean his house, even if he were to be elected President.
“I even have trouble letting other people drive me around on the bus or packing up my groceries,” he said.
A vocal proponent of equal rights for all, Hercules supports a fledgling measure that would require all future candidates for town offices prove five-year residency before registering for any election.
“We must stop this rampant student council/town council perception of town government,” he snapped. “What do new residents know of the issues facing us in northern Gunnison County?”
Supporters admit that the shorts ironing rap is an attention getting albeit cheap campaign slogan but add that it’s true.
“Can most members of the hard-pressed middle class afford to have their lawns mowed or their cars washed?
“Mario has never taken advantage of the less fortunate, enslaving them in domestic duties,” said one starry-eyed party worker. “Why he even walks his own dog.”
The worker was quick to remind voters that Hercules is focused on creating a more functional job market where everyone can thrive in a positive environment.
“Critics that accuse him of anti-growth should chew on proposals calling for the nation’s first skier dome, the Bo Bowl and Casino and the completion of an expansion bridge to Irwin,” continued the campaign worker. “These are real jobs that pay real wages and don’t footnote reality by taking in laundry.”
Hercules supports travel related industries such as food and lodging services, firewood sales and ski mountain personnel chores. Preaching a kinder socialism, one that is compatible with capitalism, he stands firmly in favor of government-subsidized lift tickets.
“People are happier when they are skiing,” he smiled. “What better way to amalgamate a functional proletariat than by offering them healthy, affordable, green recreation so close to home? Let the bourgeois tourists pay full price!”
Hercules is currently offering free rides on Elk Avenue (in his 1956 Chrysler New Yorker that he calls his “proletariat chariot”). He favors tax credits for people who ride bikes (rather than cars) around town and has promised to redistribute land to struggling marijuana farmers in the Snodgrass district.
Local media have him leading the field by as much as 45% of the projected vote.
– Melvin Toole
Ouray Poodle Ranch Under Investigation
(Dexter Creek) Since the 50s tourists visiting this lovely spot have been relying on the Poodle Ranch for far more than dog sitting. The canine spa and club has been a godsend for weary travelers, an effective time-out for hyperactive pets and a virtual institution in the valley, enlisting up to 50 full time therapists in the heat of the summer.
Now the state and federal authorities have shut her down, citing improprieties regarding daily treatment of clientele. Further charges, alleging license violations, the employment of questionable behavior modification techniques and general exploitation, leaning heavily on the punitive approach to house breaking and table manners, have been filed.
“We really stepped in it this time,” said one investigating officer from Denver. “In all my years on canine patrol I’ve never seen anything quite so bizarre.”
Heavily armed state and federal officials continue to surround the compound in hopes of securing an indictment. Samples of everything from fur to claw marks has been collected and sent to the lab for examination.
“If the heat comes down we expect it to involve everyone here from the director down to the shovel corps,” continued the officer. “We are in the process of gathering doggie DNA since the alleged victims of this outrage (despite what owners will tell you) cannot speak.”
According to a preliminary release a “favors for kibble ring” has also been exposed and, although details are sketchy at press time, it may involve dog handlers, obedience school administrators, even veterinarians all the way to Delta.
“This whole thing has gotten out of hand,” said Efram Pennywhistle, Director of the Poodle Ranch. “We haven’t done anything wrong. We love our fuzzy customers. Occasionally we have to come down on a yapping Yorkie or isolate a bothersome Pekinese but the dogs usually respond quickly. Just like children they are comfortable with parameters. Many don’t have that kind of relationship with their owners who often tolerate this bad behavior.”
Pennywhistle went on to explain that the Poodle Ranch often hosts up to 100 toy dogs during the height of tourist season and that strong measures are called for simply to keep order.
“We don’t even tie them up unless they want it,” he smiled. “Our methods do not withhold meals, walks, or socialization with others within the population,” he added. “Sure, we have time out/solitary confinement but it’s not like in those prison movies. Misbehavior simply nets no scraps with dinner.”
Defending the facility were several longtime customers who say they will have to leave their charges in the car or on leashes during certain episodes of their summer vacations.
“My little Poo Poo barks incessantly when I tie him up. It bothers the neighbors,” said Evelyn Marmotbreath of Oklahoma City.
“Puff’s behavior improves every time I bring him to the Poodle Ranch,” said Merv Ditchwater of Aurora. “I can hardly keep him still when I mention the place.”
Despite the inquiry Pennywhistle continues to oversee the construction of a larger complex just east of the Poodle Ranch. The barns and corrals suggest occupancy by far larger animals.
“It’s not a zoo that we’re building here but rather an infrastructure for a working dog dude ranch,” he said. “We’ve decided to expand into this new market where larger dogs like German Shepherds and Border Collies can experience a real workday. We will accept an occasional wannabe lab or a Malamute if they have their paperwork in order.”
Dog owners visiting Ouray are asked to be patient and police have promised a quick and thorough probe. For the time being an emergency doggie day care has been set up in the news room of the San Juan Horseshoe. – Uncle Pahgre
