All Entries in the "Hard News" Category
Congress OKs Fist Fights
(Warshington) The United States Congress today passed legislation that makes fist fighting legal within the confines of 50 states. The somewhat controversial decision came after three hours of filibustering on campaign reform and the legality of tobacco products.
Here’s what happened: During the last half hour segment of the debate, just as it appeared that some agreement might be reached a senator from South Carolina took a swing at a senator from California. It had something to do with the former’s failure to support a recent bill on illegal immigration. Then a senator from Maine, angry over the weather, landed a left to the chops of a senator from New Mexico.
Old wounds opened. Black eyes closed up. Ohio fighting with Texas over the minimum wage, the much respected senator from Mississippi sucker punching the honorable senator from Oregon. Unresolved conflicts over foreign affairs exploded while petty jealousies and back-room concessions led to more fisticuffs.
Before long the situation turned into a brawl with the sergeant-at-arms up to his butt in blood and broken bones. The doors were secured, lobbyists ejected. “Somebody pull the plug on C-Span before the voters see this!”
When the gold dust had settled the entire senate was a wreck. Gangs of elected officials, armed with clubs fashioned from furniture and dining room silverware glared at each other across the chambers. Then, much like the way the fracas began, it ended leaving an ashamed legislative body wondering how to cover its esteemed posterior.
Finally a freshmen senator from Hawaii grabbed the gavel and called for order. Quiet descended as the entire senate attempted to blend into the curtains, to crawl under established protocol.
“Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their nation,” typed a court clerk. “The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog!” shouted a response. Soon the entire body of elected representatives had rolled up its shirtsleeves and was actually making progress, acting on legislation that had been tabled for months.
“Sometimes you just got to break the ice,” said Senator Oral Noise, “or a few noses and teeth to get the ball rolling. Most of us spend 90% of our time campaigning. We forgot how much fun it is to hang out in Washington and make new laws.”
After the remarkably functional session, the minority whip suggested that the senate adopt fist fighting as an integral part of negotiation, at least within the executive committees. The head of the Ways and Means Committee echoed approval saying fist fighting should be named the National Sport, replacing pro wrestling or Nascar.
“We may have to make a few hospital runs but we certainly get a lot more done,” said Noise. “Maybe we should apply our new discovery to the population as a whole.”
There you go…Noise’s motion, quickly seconded was passed by an astounding majority. Approval in the House appears to be no more than a formality. Then it will go to the President’s desk.
“We expect the President to sign the bill into law,” said Noise. “He’s always looking for some chance to show that he’s a tough guy with the oil and gas lobbies. Who knows, perhaps he could convince the Israelis and Palestinians to embrace fisticuffs as a viable way to solve their conflicts.”
Critics of the legislation say the senate only passed the bill to legitimatize its own embarrassing deeds. They say the Haymaker Bill, as it is now being called in liberal quarters, is unfair, primitive and violent, and has no place in civilized society. Others say tolerating a few fist fights is a matter of states’ rights and that the feds should stick to building missile defense systems and honing illegal taxation techniques.
“Back in the 1700s if one man insulted another he could legally slap the offender in the face and challenge him to a duel. Sure, people got shot but we didn’t have a lot of road warriors flipping off fellow motorists. Maybe if we kept this kind of philosophy alive we wouldn’t have invented nuclear weapons,” snorted Noise.
Proponents of the measure hope that it will placate European nations who have been critical of capital punishment in the U.S..
“Maybe they will again see us as kissing cousins who prefer to take a misunderstanding outside and avoid making a scene at the big dance,” said one senator. “We are still at the beginning stages and will need to establish the specifics regarding what is appropriate behavior and what is a fair target. What’s important is that a simple swing has provided a laxative for a long constipated institution. As Americans we should all connect!”
While the proposed legislation wanders about in checks and balances cyberspace, members of the senate will attend anger management seminars in the morning, view John Wayne movies at lunch break and spend the afternoons on the speed bag. – Kashmir Horseshoe
COACH EXPLODES
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so that he seemed a geyser of displaced energy from the first quarter on. And he was quite a sight on that rainy, frigid Friday night in November, watching from the sidelines as we demolished Waterson’s first team. We had barely began to digest their third wave of hopefuls as the second half began.
“We been talking trash to you all night,” said one burly lineman, “and you don’t pay attention. You boys just aren’t intimidated,” he shook his head. “What’s the deal?”
I motioned toward the sidelines where Coach Demeritorious paced back and forth. He was dressed in a short-sleeve white shirt, sporting a black tie with training table soup stains. He wore faded slacks reflecting the frugal salary paid him by holy mother the church. Parochial sports. His spikes connected him to the planet. He had no coat or hat and in the sub-zero drizzle he looked like a popsicle, slowly thawing and then freezing back up often at the speed of light.
“Look over there,” I gestured to the overweight lineman in a mud-covered jersey.
“Whoa,” was all he said. “That man looks mad.”
“You should see him after a loss,” I smiled, knowing full well that I’d only experienced that pleasure once in my three years as a soldier of his terrible swift sword. “He’s never said a word to any of us in conversational tones. He just yells and paces and frowns. I wonder how his kids survive.”
“He wins football games,” said the lineman as the time out ended and players shuffled back to the huddle for another assault on the patchwork wall of humanity, by then begging for the game to end.
It’s really too bad that some folks attain a level of success and can’t enjoy it. It’s neurotic. It’s obsessive. It’s like finding oneself counting tiles in some nightmare men’s room at the end of the road.
“Ready – set – 21 – 66 -Red. Hut – Hut – Hut!” barked their quarterback like the death chant of a warrior, outflanked by his own shaggy militia. His artillery long quieted by countless assaults by fresh cavalry.
“You’re not hitting,” said Coach Demeritorious, now working himself into a frenzy. “You’ve got to hit!” he screamed.
We’re up by the lopsided score of 56-0 and the man’s concerned with esthetics, with the cosmetic application of fundamentals.
“We’ll play this fourth quarter as if it’s the entire game,” he jerked. “There is no score. There is no score up there on the board. Anyone sandbagging will run laps on Monday till they drop. Anyone not playing full tilt will ride the bench against Chaminade next Friday,” he raged. Do I make myself clear?
By now most of us were breathing a sigh of relief that soon we would be cruising with our girlfriends in Ford and Chevy chariots. To the victors go the spoils even though it would be only cokes and pizza since the sexual revolution of the Sixties had not made the front cover of Time, even though in was already 1966.
I looked up into the stands to catch a glimpse of my father, who would congratulate me after the victory, touching on every tackle, celebrating every sack, sharing the triumph as just one more feather in the cap of the conquering hero.
“It’s great,” he would say, “but it won’t be so easy next week.”
As the fourth quarter snailed to an end Coach Demeritorious stopped dead in his tracks, his knees wobbling, his hand to his throat. No one went to his aid for fear of reprisal. We backed away and watched as he hit the hard cold ground of Southern Ohio.
“…that it’s only a game,” my father would say and if you hope to get into college you’d better pay attention to…”
And then, all at once like a Fourth of July in some distant galaxy Coach Demeritorious exploded. He didn’t spew or rattle or tremble. He blew up. Horrified we stared as he burst, erupting, then fizzling out as an ambulance arrived to collect his pieces, which were now scattered all over the field.
This wasn’t the half-time show.
At the memorial service the assistant coaches talked about his winning record, his dedication to football, his accomplishments on the field. I looked over to his family. His son didn’t cry. He tired wife just stood there stunned, anxious to get the thing over with and get on with a life minus a tyrannical knight without a chink or detectable humanity in his glowing armor.
No one whispered a sentence relating to Coach Demeritorious that didn’t contain the word “football”.
The next day’s paper featured a whole section on the deceased coach. He made the front page, the sports section and the obituary page all in one. Sadly, he would be remembered as a pit bull with a clip board and a whistle. He might have been remembered as a good man with the right intentions. Even sadder, he would quickly be forgotten.
The next week, prior to the Chaminade game our new coach calmly laid out the game plan in the locker room.
“Let’s pick up where we left off last week,” he said, “and play this one for our fallen coach. Play hard and have fun. We’re a better team. We’re ranked fourth in the state. We deserve it.”
– Kevin Haley
Elmer Fudd on RV Safety
Hewo fwends. It’s me again. This time I would wike to discuss AwVee Safety. When you awe out on the woad cwuising this fall there awe a few things you should aways wemember.
Did you bwing awong the micwowave? Weheated food is fwugal. It sure beats dwopping a wot of woot in some touwist twap.
Are you hauwing youw caw behind? Is it secuwy hitched? Does youw widdle dog have watew? If you weave him wocked up for more than eight houwas he could dwop dead and stink up youw unit.
Dwiving tips incwude pwopew opewation on and off the woad. Fow instance, nevew puww onto the shouwdew even if you awe howding up miwes of twaffic. Who cawes about them anyway. You pay taxes! Dwiving on the shouwdew could cause you to woose contwow of your wig and go tumbuwing off the mountain into an ugwy cwevice and into the wivew. Aways appwy bweaks and dwive on the weft when cwose to cwiffs.
Wastwy, wemembew if you faww asweep in youw weawy wong wig and forget whea you awe, don’t panic! It’s onwy the awtitude. Youw’ll feew bettew when you weach the campgwound and can use something besides a chemicaw toiwet.
Wemember too that you are not bwocking the woad. Puww ovew wherevew you wike. The othews can just go awound.
Catfish aggression down in August
(Ridgway) The tally of documented catfish attacks has fallen off sharply at the end of summer, landing at less than 35% of the confrontations charted in July. Authorities over at Fish and Game expressed confidence that the diminished onslaughts will continue to decrease with the coming of winter.
Our reader may recall a series of shocking incidents that plagued Colorado during the early summer, beginning with a suicide sortie on the town of Naturita on May 20. Difficult as it may be for tenderfoots to buy to attack was coordinated with a simultaneous strike on DOW fish trucks in Almont and a vicious assault on a heavily guarded beaver ponds at Silverjack Reservoir.
“These out of character thrusts have been blamed on the drought that lingered into July.
On July 30 the entire Kokanee school was defiled by a large catfish that eyewitnesses say weighed in at at least 200 pounds soaking wet.
Brain trusts within the DOW say an ongoing sting has convinced more radical elements of the channel cat population to back off on these finless episodes at least until spring.
– Small Mouth Bess
MAJORITY OF CATS ON WELFARE
Another kitty on the dole
(Montrose) A survey conducted in this Western Slope city suggests that most of the nation’s feline population is receiving some sort of federal assistance. The alarming statistics appear valid even though some 60% are capable of putting in an honest day’s work.
The data has White House aides scurrying around in an attempt to manipulate the findings. Insiders say the results are a “major embarrassment” to the President who has only recently “been strutting around like a bandy rooster” on the sore subject of welfare reform.
“We did a great job convincing our viewing audience that unemployment figures were stable even though many citizens on out tally sheets were making minimum wage or working several jobs to survive,” said Sally Beguile, a leading pinchbeck in the Obama Administration. “Many of us here in Washington are convinced that we will be able to claim full employment status by the time Al runs against Danny (Quayle).”
Beguile admitted that full employment status is an illusive state often associated with classic utopias such as Shangrila, Brigadoon, Lyndon Johnson’s Great Society, Plato’s Republic, Camelot, the Spanish Intuition and repeated Marx Brothers shenanigans in such hotbeds as Freedonia.
“We prefer to puff up, make reference to proper nouns and paint specific pictures in an attempt to distract the eating public from reality while encouraging rampant consumption,” stressed Beguile.
According to the findings, collected from a cross-section of studies conducted all over the country, the situation is no worse in the urban sectors that out in hickland. Primitive data suggests that cats are no more motivated in town than in the country and that many feel the government owes them a living.
“It’s astounding how fast these recipients roll with the punches,” said one social scientist headquartered in Olathe, a town that actually prohibits cats from seeking employment. “Just watch the mail boxes when the checks arrive. Most of these goldbricks just lie around in the sun all day and prowl through the nights. Many of the females have offspring from countless fathers who rarely extend support. This phenomenon has existed for generations.”
Many cat lovers blame the system that they insist is top-heavy and laden with staff members who encourage kitty clients to remain on welfare rolls to solidify their own positions.
Consciously or not they convince these poor unfortunate cats that they are less than human in order to justify their own paltry contributions to society,” said one local woman. “We have bred a species of dependents who have forgotten what it takes to go catch a rat for lunch.”- Kashmir Horseshoe
GOP EXHUMES IKE
(Gettysburg, PA) The Republican National Committee, searching for ways to defeat Barack Obama in November, has confirmed rumors that it will exhume the remains of Dwight D Eisenhower prior to the national convention this summer. In what was described as a drastic step by political watch dogs, the Republicans will then place Eisenhower on the autumn ticket with Mitt Romney as the likely Vice Presidential candidate.
