All Entries in the "Lifestyles at Risk" Category

Counter-Espionage Chief Says Aliens Inhabit Congress

(Moscow — Red Sky at Night — June 29, 2016)

A former counter-espionage agent working for the KGB and the CIA claims that a majority of the United States Congressmen are in-your-face extraterrestrials or brazen aliens from other planets and galaxies.

Retired Soviet spy, Kaslov Yowski, a recent arrival to the retirement community here. His indictment is backed up by what he insists are mounds of data collected during the Cold War and warehoused near his boyhood home of Vasilkovf, in the lush vodka growing region of Murmansk, in extreme northwest Russia.

“As a young boy we watched as aliens landed nearby, hundreds of them preparing for the stark voyage or land crossing into the wastelands of Alaska,’ started Yowski sipping a chilled potato-derivative on ice. “They had on goal in mind: Make it to Washington and take over the government. Why someone with the ability to travel here from light years away would want to dabble in petty politics is beyond my comprehension,” he frowned. “It must be some kind of Fifth Columnist thing.”

Are Washington’s gloried insiders really the ultimate outsiders? Will Yowski spill the cosmic beans? Please show your birth certificate at the door.

– Stinky Weehoff

Warning to all local bear

Public services # 611 —  June 24, 2016

Please…if you insist on prowling our golf course at night looking for scraps STAY OFF THE GREENS. There is plenty of rough on which to roam. There is no food on the greens! It is all in the handy dumpsters near the restaurant. Do not bother the golfers. They do not have anything for you either. We are tired of cleaning up after you. The season is short and a little cooperation goes a long way. If you do not comply with what we fell are reasonable requests you will not be invited back next year!
– Dos Rios Golf Course Management

More bears than tourists?

“I spent at least 24 hours in Alaska and only saw six bears. It was light all the time.” – Melvin O’Toole. Photo and copy by Jeff Brown, The Juneau What? 

Last newsprint edition out this weekend

Summer issue out! June 16, 2016

TOOLE SHOTS DAZZLING 19 ON DOS RIOS COURSE

(GUNNISON – June 16, 2016) Fairway wizard Melvin Toole has shocked the golf world by recording a course record 19 over the weekend. Flaming his way through the first nine without a hitch, Toole’s drive on 17 just wouldn’t drop, rolling around the hole three times before stopping on the green.

Caddie Simone Simone told The Horseshoe that many in the gallery complained of neck injuries after watching the spiraling motion of the ball go round and around the on the lip of the cup.

“If it weren’t for that disastrous 17th he would have been perfect,” said the caddie. “Lots of golfers spend years just trying to break par. They take lessons, buy expensive equipment and get ulcers over such a silly game. Remember: It was invented by the Scots, who had been clearly exposed to yesterday’s haggis.”

This was only Toole’s second time on a golf corpse, having played the Montrose Course (recording a 22) Thursday. If he keeps up this fiery pace he will have to be considered the top contender in the Fairway Pines Bazooka Shoot slated for the Thirty-Fifth.

Appearing in what has become his trademark attire: a stunning red crepe blazer with matching whipped cream argyle suspenders, impressive asbestos chaps, your everyday competition flippers and a rigidly flumed stovepipe hat, Toole told reporters that his secret is to relax and hit the ball as hard as possible.

“Often I close my eyes right at the point of contact or aim for another golfer,” smiled the linkster. “The pro here says that as soon as I can get around to buying some irons my game should continue to improve.”

Toole said he took up golf because he likes to ride around in a the little carts drinking beer. He said the game reminded him a lot of croquet except that it wasn’t quite as painful being hit in the forehead with the golf ball.

– Rocky Flats

“I’m a great putter. I just can’t seem to get the ball to go into the little hole.”                                        – Melvin Toole, famous greenskeeper.

Bear Poker

The following was whispered to me in perfect pentameter
by a large black bear that I met in the alley one winter night
behind Duckett’s Market in Ouray.
Why the bear chose to share the story is still not clear.
Jump in whenever the spirit moves you.

Jimmy John Card and his pal, Chip McCann
sat at Callahan’s table and dealt out bum hands.
The green felt was honored, a tenderfoot from France
Who brandished fine cutlery and a gun in his pants.

Through shuffles and side bets, throats cleared, poker stares
Drinks all around and in the fourth chair a bear.
That was me…the fourth player disguised in a cloak
though my hairy exterior, suspect when I spoke.

But first human misgivings about cheats and bold liars
were confirmed by my chip stack and their gold dust desires.
It started out friendly as the cards came around
and the chatter subsided as the wagers laid down.

It was Card with three aces and the Frenchman with four
that started the ruckus, accusations and more.
Then a blessed distraction of dance hall girl charm
kept the well-armed bartender from sounding alarm.

The Frenchman collected while Card bit his lip
and the lady departed with a drink and a tip.
“Let Charley sit in” squawked an anxious McCann
“Five’s a crowd” said the others poker faces in hand.

I grabbed the deck quickly calm invited, cards shuffled
crisply dealing them out, smoothing feathers just ruffled.
This time it was Card who raised up the bets
at each turn he went higher, it was he and I left.

What ya gonna do, bear? chided Card through his cigar
I’m staying I growled. Let’s see the last card.
I couldn’t believe it—Lady Luck’s hand of fate
with the nine of spades down I had pulled a small straight.

You’re cheatin screamed Card, when he saw all the spades.
I stared back at his pistol and death’s tight masquerade.
Now hold on a minute! checked McCann with a stare
This bear here is honest his spades fair and square.

And Card was placated though the loss was a jolt
and under the table he fingered his Colt.
Again cards were delivered and the bets were laid down
Plastic angels with wishes, nothing showin’ but frowns.

The pot’s right, and healthy, let the winner surmise
all the players were drooling at the sight of the prize.
I’ll raise ten said the Frenchman, and have no regrets
Hold your horses said Card, the pot’s not quite yours yet.

Card’s hand was one color, all diamonds in fact
The Frenchman held three queens, backed up by two jacks.
When the cards hit the table it was Card that first drew
his silver revolver provoking the coup

Then McCann pulled his rifle out from under his seat
and fired close range then made a retreat
The bullets dropped Card who had time to react
and his effort on target hit McCann in the back.

The Frenchman then gazed at Gehenna’s fine treasure
as a bullet tore through him, then one more for good measure.
It ain’t me that shot Frenchy, was the bartender’s finger
that pulled the slick trigger—no reason to linger.

The saloon crowd ducked down so the spittoons confide
while I grabbed up the money and made haste for outside
Swiping the pot was not much of a chore
the tin-horn bartender shaking, while he cleaned up the floor.

Three dead were the bounty, their souls with Old Scratch
and a black bear with money makes quite a nice catch.
I took every penny and bought drinks for my friends
who couldn’t believe I had come to such ends.

Now my fortunate windfall is down to one stack
Here’s hoping that devil don’t want his chips back.

June 9, 2016

– Melvin Toole