Author Archive for M. Toole
Looking for God in all the wrong places
To the editor:
Does anyone out there have God’s phone number?
Does The Supreme Being finally have a cell phone?
Does anyone out there have the new number?
I really need to talk to him pronto.
Pistachio Pete, General Delivery, Limbo
No and yes but at this time God ain’t given’ it out.
And for a local Local Twist on the eternal question:
Pharisee to speak
(Montrose) Highly regarded spiritual war monger, the Rev. Phil Pharisee of the Love Temple of Self-Absorption and Sacrificial Assimilation will address the piercing question: Does God Have a Cell Phone? on Friday night at the Armageddon Bingo Hall on East Main. Parking is free and cold cuts will be served. Bring a covered fish.
“There are no windows in tipis.” – Captain Jack, Ute Chief
Bedroom Remodels
Ralph was a retired air force jet engine mechanic. He had joined the USAF when he was only
seventeen and so, after the minimum time of twenty years, was able to retire as a spry, eager
thirty-seven-year-old. Soon Ralph became bored, however, and at his wife’s urging, he got a job
at an ubiquitous home appliance and hardware superstore.
After working there for several months, Ralph noticed that many contractors did kitchen and
bathroom remodel work, but no one was doing bedroom remodels. He was certain that he could
fill a need and make a killing in this neglected market.
With joy in his heart and a spring in his step, he gave notice to quit his job at Crap for My House. On his last
day on the job, he told several coworkers of his brilliant plan. “I’m going to capitalize on what absolutely, most
assuredly is going to be the next major housing trend: bedroom remodels!” His coworkers stared at him blankly.
“You all should seriously consider quitting and joining me in my new company!” They all wished him well and said
goodbye as Ralph clocked out one last time.
Ralph’s sister-in-law built a gorgeous, easy-to-navigate website for his new company and set up
a credit card payment system. But as the days crawled by, no one clicked the Contact
button. He spent $3,000 for five thousand business cards (that had an incorrect phone number
because he was too eager to get them printed and didn’t proofread them first), five hundred hats,
and five hundred lousy, thin T-shirts with the company logo that peeled off the first time they got washed.
He took out a home equity line of credit to purchase a beautiful, contractor-outfitted,
$89,000 work truck. In six months it was repossessed for failure to make payments.
Now working out of his brother-in-law’s 1973 Ford Country Squire station wagon, one day Ralph was handing out
business cards in the parking lot of a sports bar. He had spent an entire weekend drawing a line through the mis-
printed phone number, hand-writing the correct phone number on the back of all four thousand nine hundred and
eighty-two remaining cards with, SEE BACK OF CARD scribbled in the front.
A woman approached him, looked at the peeling letters on his company T-shirt, stared at the
business card he held up to her face and said, “Bedroom remodels, huh?” Ralph smiled broadly,
revealing his lovely coffee- tobacco- and Pepsi-colored teeth.
“That’s correct, ma’am! We’re the best!”
“Uh . . . okay. But aren’t bedrooms just four walls?”
Ralph stumbled. “Um, no. Uh, well . . . technically, yes, but—but it’s an art form to get a
bedroom just right. We have designers that will give you whatever you want in your bedroom.”
The woman burst out laughing, turned, and walked away as she said, “I don’t need your
designers to give me what I want in my bedroom, honey. I got my husband for that!”
Ralph is now back at his old job, where he works five days a week advising people on
the difference between string and twine. Most of his pay goes toward the loan he took out on two
enormous custom-made neon signs that he had purchased for his rented building. They are so
pretty, bright, colorful, and cheerful that he couldn’t stand to get rid of them.
His only real problem now is when the neighbors complain that they can’t sleep at night because of the brightly
flashing RALPH’S RUMPUS ROOM REMODELS signs that he installed on the roof of his house.
– Doug Fergus
China Cuts Off Chicken Feet
(San Francisco) China will suspend all exports of chicken feet until the spring it was announced this morning. Despite a seemingly cordial exchange during President Obama’s visit there last month, fiscal commentators fear the worst.
“He must have done something to piss them off,” said a colored analyst at FOX News.
“He got tough behind the scenes and forced China to regulate trade deficits,” said a news anchor at National Public Radio.
In a tedious exchange, blending Pol Potesque social order with a menu of 16th Century Machiavellian personality disorders, China has agreed to accept 3 megatons of campaign litter from the United States if the Obama Administration will simply sit down to a kimchee dinner summit in Pyongyang.
The White House, which has reportedly denied already asking what it can bring to the talks, has promised a decision on this newest development by the weekend.
The Chinese prefer to use campaign litter, written in English, in their little ovens that churn out billions of inessential plastic objects for export.
“We don’t want workers to loaf around reading about Walter Mondale or Bob Dole when they are supposed to be making plastic,” said one factory supervisor through an interpreter.
– Ripple Van Winkle
“The highlight of Semana Santa, hell the whole winter…was the singing of The Saints Go Marching In in Spanish by those dangerous priests and their congregation, who just the other day preached doom at memories of the Crucifixion. This Easter morning and are now elated that this nice Jewish guy has returned from the dead, shocking his critics and instituting the sacred money chain that exists to this day.”
– Fred Zeppelin, Easter in the Andes
A bird in the hand…
Hummingbirds, orchids, pumas, monkeys and an occasional sloth populate the Reserva de Ochides above Jardin, Colombia. Here we watch one such buzzer having a liquid lunch compliments of a visitor’s comfortable index finger.
AMERICANS MOST HAPPY WITH CROOK IN WHITE HOUSE
(Ouray – 1882) According to an extensive survey 68% of American voters feel more comfortable with a crook in the White House than otherwise. With the recent election of Chester A. Arthur to the Presidency voters have confirmed data collected in the study.
Arthur became President after the assassination of James A. Garfield. A professional politician, Arthur achieved his goals by manipulating the political machine rising to power during a period of widespread dishonesty in every phase of government. Critics even go so far as to accuse Arthur of compliance in the murder.
He began his rough and tumble political career helping another crook, Republican Edwin D Morgan, become governor of New York for the second time. He was rewarded with an appointment as a general in the New York militia prior to the Civil War. When the war actually began Arthur had a safe and cushy job outfitting the militia for federal service. In 1862 he became state quartermaster general and his personal wealth grew quickly.
After the war he was appointed Collector for the Port of New York by another honest man, President U.S. Grant. During his tenure he saw to it that party regulars were given the good jobs. They, in turn paid, a percentage of their wages into Republican party campaign funds. Clever.
After Rutherford B. Hayes became President in 1877 he attempted to control this spoils system that had emerged. He appointed a commission to investigate the New York Customs House and it reported that three officers, including Arthur were neglecting their duties to handle party matters.
According to Frederick T. Frelinghuysen, Arthur’s Secretary of State Arthur has never done anything anyone else hadn’t already done.
“He’s no bigger crook than Grant…or even Hayes,” said Frelinghuysen. “His manipulation and sale of the Brooklyn Bridge will go down in history as “good business”. His renovation of the White House after it was occupied but downright slobs deserves acclaim,” said the secretary. “Just because all of his old buddies are getting rich off the American taxpayer doesn’t make him a bad guy.”
Many Americans, waking up to the threats from outside interests see a capable President as one who can make a few deals, twist a few wrists. They seem to accept the fact that some graft will occur and ignore hands in the cookie jar. Under all those whiskers they prefer to see their President as a good guy who is deserving of respect.
“We can’t keep a eye on the Brits and the lid on the Indian situation without someone who can pull a few strings residing in the White House,” explained one voter. “I say let him have at it. If he gets thrown in jail there’s always his vice-President, if he only had one.”
-Pepper Salte
“There’s no question that (Mitch) McConnell is one of the most consequential politicians of his generation. This isn’t a compliment. McConnell is not consequential for what he accomplished as a legislator or legislative leader — he’s no Robert F. Wagner or Everett Dirksen. He’s consequential for what he’s done to degrade and diminish American democracy.”
-Jamie Bouie, in The New York Times
