All Entries Tagged With: "Ouray"
Editor’s Coroner
Happy Hollandaise! This month we’re coming to you from the same place as we did in November, only it’s a different month and a different place. Can anyone tell us what month? That’s right, December, and it’s much like last year. Jingle Bells hasn’t changed. The elves don’t look much older. It’s dark early. The Broncos still stink. Big Business is still milking the public. The Homeland Security Agency is still counting paper clips and we’re still waiting for the big dump, of snow that is, followed by several larger, frightening accumulations of snow.
One positive development that just came down is the announcement that our friends over at Wal-mart will close for the holidays so that somebody else can make a living for a change. Do you shop there? Shame on you. We hope you get a lump of used Chinese coal for Christmas. This is an evil corporation that mistreats your fellow man all over he world. Couldn’t you just buy your socks someplace else?
Imagine what it would be like to take off the entire month of January because the snow was too deep to go anywhere. Fiction? It used to be the norm, well almost the norm. That’s what the old timers told us when we were nippers. In any case, keep your cupboards filled, your stilts handy and your snowshoe socks dry.
Stories which merit attention this month include the latest segment of Lord of the Oil Rigs where Frotho and Texo find themselves transported to a sand-bagged Hobbit-hole just a few clicks from Baghdad’s Hard Rock Cafe in the Trump Towers. Who’s got the ring (or at least a pint) and where is Gandalf (played by Forest Whitaker) when we need a little magic?
Yes, the world is flat and getting flatter.
Trendy Middle East coverage: Funny how Palestinians think they are the good guys too. Thrill to vintage film of the annual Baghdad New Bath Party Christmas Gift Exchange in Eating Their Kurds Away. Over in Iran the big question remains: Do the weapons inspectors get to hang their stockings too?
Had enough? Did you know that many NFL players employ aliases to protect them from fiscal chicanery and other forms of fraud aimed at their pocketbooks? That’s why there are so many Smiths, Johnsons and Washingtons across the backs of jerseys. We cover the story in here. Another sports page gem tells us why lawsuits have overtaken jogging suits in the annual holiday fashion parade.
Don’t miss a candid conversation with Evelyn Marmotbreath as she shares with us recipes for Eating Patriotically. Right across the page take a look at Spicing Up Your Julgrot, and continued coverage on the arrest of freeze-dried giant, Little Jack Horner as a suspected terrorist. Let’s hang him from his plums!
This month’s News In-Depth takes us to the North Pole where Santa has threatened a run at the White House in 2020, as an Independent to boot. Will attempts by the Trump people to discredit him as a leftist make the decision for him? What about Hillary and her plan to train pig-tailed sloths to pick coconuts? Will Bill come on board after the last fiasco? What about Rand Paul? Has he survived any more beatings outside of his home?
In closing we’re happy to report that we’ve finally gotten the bears to sleep for the winter. Endless stories, lullabies, kisses on the forehead, glasses of water and promises of pancakes in the spring (with blue berries and whipped cream) did it. As in past years all winter residents, especially ice climbers, are asked to observe Quiet Zones above 8,000 feet until at least the Ides of March.
Quote of the month: “Mountain lions are of little use in a technological society.” – Unknown.
Patterns in the shade, textures in the tree
The plaza Ciudad Bolivar, Colombia. Amid daytime color a barrage of Christmas lights then accentuates the Andean night.
Congressional GOP Resignations Corroborated
Many Republican legislators intend to vacate their Congressional seats, effective on the passage of a divisive and contentious tax bill.
“We have done our job. We have unselfishly served the rich and saved America from the Godless Welfare State. But by doing so we have taken ourselves out of the running for reelection,” said Corey Parvenu of Mañana. “Who would vote for us now? Our Congressional salaries are chicken feed compared with the money we make from campaign contributions and other payoffs, so who gives a tinker’s damn.”
“We hate to eat and run but hasta la tonta,” taunted Tar Sands, of North Dakota. “Once voters suffer the fool and realize that we have screwed them we will not be electable, and so, without further fanfare, we will bid adieu…”
Democrats in the House breathed a sigh of relief at the news. “Winners like that make too many losers, to coin a Donna the Buffalo song. They sold their souls and turned our backs on everything the Republican Party once held dear,” said Oregon Democrat, Fanny Albright. “If all of them actually resign we might be ale to pass something besides gas before November.”
At risk of reprisals, retiring lawmakers will go into seclusion until the debris settles, which they hope won’t be “real long”. Insiders, fearing violence, say that poor people “will soon want blood but may have to travel to off-shore bunkers to get it.”
People like Donald Trump and Paul Ryan, who don’t need the money, are slated to save millions on taxes with the new passage while the working poor will get stiffed big time, especially on safety nets. Many of these poor unfortunates to be voted for these wealthy scoundrels and most of them are sticking to their guns, preferring a fatal fall from a high precipice of lies rather than an admission that they were hoodwinked.
“I’ve got a place up river where no one will find me for a long time,” whispered former house whip Mitch “Clear Skies” Pettifogger. “People around here like me. The others will forget in no time. Then we can make a pincher comeback without all the half-cocked liberal investigations.”
Indictments in the ongoing Penis Inquisition will be downplayed in the mainstream press so as to allow the honorable brahmans to safely sneak out of town before mobs understand the consequences and guillotines begin rolling into the the National Mall.
“‘Tis the season, heh?” asked one defrocked “journalist” from Faux News. “It’s like our man Santa legislating the elves out of health insurance, pensions and even free internet while they tighten the screws. Isn’t it an exiting time to be alive!”
Meanwhile in Colorado the state GOP continues to blame the drought on Barack Obama and Jimmy Carter. Many plan relocation to Argentina and Paraguay.
– Tommy Middlefinger
Amazon Acquires Christmas
(Montrose) On-line retailer, and now communications giant, Amazon has reportedly purchased Christmas for an undisclosed sum. The acquisition sent shock waves through major stock exchanges already paralyzed by news that the Afghani Poppy Cartel had been admitted to the Wall Street’s exclusive market.
What this often hostile buyout could mean for the age-old tradition of Christmas was not clear at the time of the report. Already most retail giants and the credit card companies have sought to placate the new owners with sales and other promotions aimed at selling more junk to the consumer. What the communications concern will do with Christmas for the rest of the year was not discussed.
“We just hope they don’t ship it out of the country do to lower overhead and a workforce that will toil for less than the traditional employees at the North Pole,” said one consumer advocate.
White House spokesperson Sarah Huckabee Sanders welcomed the news for no apparent reason while President Trump tweeted about golf and North Korea.
In reference to the Afghani quotes many brokers here say they under the assumption that it was poppycock, not poppy stock that was being considered.
All agree that margins for the agricultural commodity have risen sharply since the “elimination” of the Taliban. Poppies are cultivated all over Afghanistan with each pretty flower containing high quantities of opium which is then processed into heroin either there or who it arrives in the U.S..
“When the demand is that intense in U.S. and European markets, it will soon be reflected in ridiculous profits for some war lord or the other,” said a source on the floor here. “We just hope he’s an ally in the war against terror.”
– Marcelle Paisa
SANTA TO TEACH SEX-ED
(Ridgway) Santa Claus has been hired to teach sex education here starting in January according to educators here. In compliance with guidelines set down by the Trump Administration the curriculum will be based on half-truths, superstition, misinformation, denial and outright lies permeated by faith-based interests and aimed at keeping this segment of the population in the dark about such hushed topics as birth control and good health.
Santa was chosen both because his very existence is also based on a series of myths and because he is free most of the year.
“All those elves must mean something,” said one teacher, “Our message here is abstinence. He’s got the credentials but does he have the ability to whitewash the problem in accordance with Administration twisted yardsticks.”
Although there is no solid evidence that Santa was in any way involved with the procreation of the over 400 elves that live with him, he is seen as a father figure by many which may further qualify him for the teaching position.
– Peter Salte
Snowbank Needs Donations
(Telluride) The local San Miguel County snowbank, a non-profit clearing house for all types of holiday charities is in need of donations. Canned goods, toys, usable clothing and cash are at the top of the list with Christmas only a wish away. Last year the fund collected more than $300,000 worth of loot that was distributed to poor families in the region.
Home of glitzy Telluride, San Miguel County is not considered to be a region plagued with poor people although, according to recently compiled statistics, a family of four making less than $100,000 per year is below the accepted poverty level and is qualified for assistance.
“Any moneys left over after December 25 will be earmarked for a knock-down holiday bash in downtown Cahone on New Year’s Eve,” said organizer Muffy Hollandaise of Lawson Hill. “The party is open to anyone no matter what their financial status but we will be checking fiscal statements at the door in hopes of securing pledges for next year.”
– Ripple Van Winkle
“You’re mad. bonkers. Off your head…but I’ll tell you a secret…all of the best people are.”
– Alice in Wonderland
A ROCKY MOUNTAIN CHRISTMAS
It was another quaint scene of rural Rocky Mountain Americana, long before the beautiful people landed here. A clothesline, heavy with a fresh wash, was stretched from the propped up hood of a black ’54 Chevy to the corner post of the flimsy front porch. A spotted mutt lay in the mud chewing on an old sneaker as three dirty-faced children ran half-naked through the snow and mud frolicking among the goats and chickens.
Grandma sat glum-faced in an old rocker on the front lawn bundled in a stained blanket. A dip of snuff lay soggy between her lip and gum. Brown spittle drooled down her chin, spotting the bosom of her Goodwill dress.
Mary Jane looked from the kitchen window as she kneaded dough for the Christmas baked goods. She watched as the warm sunshine melted snow from the old barn roof sending its cool droppings into a rancid mound of garbage and rotting deer hides. A mouse scurried from the pantry and into the corner. Mary Jane quickly finished her last slug of Keystone and hurled the empty at the unsuspecting rodent, shattering glass against the stove. The mouse ran back into the pantry, a sprig of parsley clutched fast between its teeth. It’s only parsley, thought Mary Jane. The kids won’t eat it anyhow.
Gus, Mary Jane’s husband, stumbled from the barn. His eyes were red from drink and blinded by the afternoon sun causing him to trip over an old rusty transmission. He fell headlong into the mud and snow cursing bitterly.
On the horizon came a fleet of pickups and vans. Here come the do-gooders, mused Gus. Then he smiled, for in the deep recesses of his foggy memory a thought emerged. Old Melvin Toole was playing Santa at the Grange today. At least he would have someone to drink with after all.
The visitors parked in the rutted road’s ankle deep mud and gathered at the gate. Phony smiles adorned their scrubbed faces. Beneath the holy makeup of a shaky Santa was the smug, devil-may-care Toole. He stepped from his pickup, hoisting a sack of toys over his boney shoulder. He swallowed the last swig of his drugstore bourbon and tossed the empty bottle into the back of the truck, the melting snow muffling the sound of the breaking atop his jack, other bottles and a huge piece of petrified cottonwood.
“I use that for ballast,” he slurred. But not a creature heard him.
Next the county sheriff marched through the gate dragging a fresh-cut spruce. Behind him was a procession of the righteous carrying boxes of decorations and food.
“Ya got anything to drink in there?” asked Gus whose request was promptly ignored by the pilgrims.
The children, stone-faced and perplexed, stood next to Grandma as she rocked and chewed her cud. Gus lit a Viceroy. In the kitchen Mary Jane opened another beer, looking out of the window in disgust at the procession in her field.
All at once a rusty piece of barbed wire, hidden beneath the snow, caught the shiny patent leather toe of Santa’s boot sending him down the hill, gliding on his red Gore-Tex suit and crashing into Gus. The impact sent both men rolling into the pile of garbage and deer hides, causing a roar of laughter and cheer.
On the back of the pickup a guitar player strummed while a chorus from Al-Anon sang that famous old Buck Owens classic, “Santa Looks A Lot Like Daddy.”
Everyone just stood their in the yard wondering what to do next when it began to snow. In the distance silver peaks glistened like white marble against a powder-blue sky. The green pines shuddered, the sun met the land and once again another Christmas arrived in the glorious Rockies.
– Jose Katu
Christmas Astro-Graph
Attention star gazers: When ordering from the following menu do so only by the adjoining number. Parties of more than one will be charged a 20% gratuity after digestion. If you are one of those people who actually believes that another mortal can actually dispense advice based on shuffling cards, reading tarots or throwing tea leaves up into the air we would like to talk to you about how you can achieve financial and political security just by letting us use your credit card. The following is just as valid as all the other astrological crap lines and it’s free.
SAGITTARIUS (November 23 – December 21)
Valuable knowledge acquired this morning may help you find your car tomorrow afternoon. Keep one eye on the hour glass and the other on your squirt gun. Hire a surrogate worrier and get on with the party. Turning a deaf ear to bothersome elves may result in blows below the belt. Jack Iron at twenty paces! Slide. Be happy that nobody is really paying attention. You may become a source of amusement to sanitation engineers in the wee hours. Tonight: Dilly dally.
CAPRICORN (December 22 – January 19)
Conditions in general could remain quite general through the 29th. You are far too impressed by lunch counter Santas and arch-angels in car washes. Stick to decorating your cave. Going in circles is a valid direction. Look at the planets. Don’t worry about the future. The gov’ment will feed you. Textbook descriptions fail in the light of a damaged attention span. Your business cents could net dollar signs in 2018. Define all goals before abandoning them. Tonight: Find a couch.
AQUARIUS (January 20 – February 19)
They say that everyone is good at something. What did you say you do for a living? That’s interesting. Is it legal? Conclusions may carry the heavy weight of finality in the mid-afternoon. Your game plan is solid: It’s just out of chips. You are highly motivated to do nothing. Previous experiences sleeping in your car may come in handy but always factor in the temperatures in December. Yeah, we know. It wasn’t your fault. The world is screwed up. Tonight: Sneak in the back door.
PISCES (February 20 – March 20)
Congratulations! Today is official Junk Day. It’s the day that you get to hang around with old things. Maybe it’s a person, maybe an attic. Either way, call in sick. Dress comfortably and surround yourself with junk. Why not? Are you gonna miss something important like the TV news? Focus on doing nice things for others and your problems will melt away to nothing. The chances of waking up healthy tomorrow are very good. Celebrate. Tonight: A close friend will get you off the hook.
ARIES (March 21 – April 19)
Your life is beginning to resemble the 1956 Republican Presidential Convention on black and white TV with all those delegates in straw hats carrying I Like Ike signs. Richard Nixon is there too. Maybe it’s time to switch opiate-based perfumes or after shaves. Contrary to logic your personal star is on the rise. Hold on for the ride of your life. Go ahead, throw in the towel. You can always drip-dry. Put a lid on handy-man foul ups by taking an extended nap. Tonight: Sleep through it.
TAURUS (April 20 – May 20)
Asinine is and shall be your calling card. Money is only temporary. It’s credit cards and checks that are eternal. Mercury, the planet of communication, is about to launch a windy monologue. Find something to do outside of your sphere of affluence. Chafing at the bit is good for the digestive system. Intangible prospects will come into full view by Christmas. While somewhat innovative, there is no particular advantage to tapping your hands and wringing your feet. Tonight: Refreshment is a state of mind.
GEMINI (May 21 – June 20)
Making jello should not require artillery strikes. The transits of Pluto and Neptune will leave mounds of fresh manure at the barn door. What could it mean? You know you have to take them out for a walk in the morning but what would you wear? Atone for your previous sins through moments of emotional starvation. Never eat the last cupcake. Go eyeball to eyeball with house plants. You are your own Christmas Tree! Your fly is open. Tonight: Leftover rhetoric.
CANCER (June 21 – July 22)
Your outfit is hypnotizing, especially the crystals, sparkles and moon boots. Ruling planets have requested that you take a substantial pay cut after the holidays. Go ahead…retreat back into your hermit’s cave but don’t forget to budget for cable. Considering your income you cannot afford the luxury of a prestigious mental illness and should simply settle for being comfortably crazy. Insignificance is it’s own reward. Tonight: A break from canned food.
LEO (July 23 – August 22)
So you think you’re a candidate for the king/queen of the jungle. Where is your paperwork? Who did you pay off? Let’s hear your best roar! We’ll be in touch by the end of the week. Inability to trust others could be your finest asset. Benevolent mice pulling thorns from the feet of lions is a lot for cynical Leos to swallow. Dream your cat dreams in white sands by the beautiful sea. If you are invited to the spider’s house for dinner expect to eat fly stew. Tonight: Play a backseat roll, knickers up!
VIRGO (August 23 – September 22)
Behind the facade of sub-par human intelligence lurks an ugly step-child. Don’t fret. There are plenty of round holes for square pegs to fill. Cogs in the machine are always better than frogs in the latrine. There is honor in solitude but drinking alone is still a no-no in polite society. You have the celestial body of a late model Plymouth. Avoid military incursions that involve your body. Stay clandestine but make sure you polish those combat boots. Tonight: A message from the heavens on laundry detergents.
LIBRA (September 23 – October 22)
Street sense don’t mean a thing on a far off asteroid. The very thought of a fiery comet crashing heartlessly into the mother earth is somewhat upsetting to you. Today is perfect for Christmas shoplifting. Rely on the courage of your convictions, at least the ones classified as misdemeanors. Distance yourself from nuclear waste. Your holiday fruitcake could be at risk. Counseling is a possibility. That big red nose will make it difficult to get away with little white lies through the 25th. Tonight: Add bleach.
SCORPIO (October 23 – November 24)
Life is only a phase. Go ahead: Buckle under pressure. Your magnetic personality could leave you stuck to a tin building by January. Fantasy and reality blend well with rum and coconuts. Use your descriptive adjectives now or face angry participles later on in the day. Why would a lover expect you to make a commitment when you won’t even make the bed? You may just as well get used to the Christmas season. It will be here for a while. Tonight: Don’t count your chickens before the cows come home to roost.
– General Kashmir Horseshoe, Staff Unitologist
