All Entries Tagged With: "Silverton"
Chubby Bunnies Support Group Sets Agenda
Montrose will be the hub for a new non-profit community support group aiming to serve the needs of an at risk community that has only recently discovered their at-riskness.
The group, calling themselves Chubby Bunnies, has formed in response to the notable rise in numbers of noticeably rotund vegetarians rolling through western slope farmers’ markets and organic grocery stores. The highest numbers of these porky veggers have been found in small, trendy mountain towns locally and, not surprisingly, throughout the infamously enlightened North Fork area.
Chubby Bunnies’ Executive Director Hope N. Goodwill offered the following background:
“Chubby Bunnies came together because many of us, like me, thoroughly enlightened, self-sacrificing, community oriented people who have chosen to save the planet by shunning meat at meal-time, have also faced the terrifying reality of waking up one day as a pre-menopausal vegetarian who has exploded to four times her pre-vegetarian dress size. Believe me, all you can think of at that horrific moment when you finally look in the mirror and come to terms with an unfamiliar super-sized no-meat you, is, ‘how could it be? I’m a vegetarian!'”
The trend from enlightenment to too-much-of-a-good-thing is not confined to Montrose, as many do-gooders across the nation are suffering the image busting truth of too many taters. A member of the Chubby Bunnies support group who has desperately begged to remain anonymous, put the pain of her journey this way:
“I basically ate every single food item known to man that was not meat. And usually six times more of it than I used to in order to take my mind off of steak. While I became a vegetarian out of a desire to do good in the world, once I realized that most of my favorite comfort foods had nothing to do with meat, I became a monster. I just kept telling myself, ‘Go ahead, grab another three helpings of mashed potatoes and gravy. Eat mac n cheese for breakfast, lunch and dinner every Thursday. Baklava? Ha! Bring it on! I am a vegetarian. I am immune to fat.’ Those of us who have joined Chubby Bunnies are beginning to deal with the stark truth that vegetarians are, actually, not immune to fat.”
Without being asked for comment, local Cattlemen’s Association president Louis L’Amour remarked to a group of old men at the truck stop diner that “there’s not one good reason to be a vegetarian if you’re going to be fat. All them Chubby Bunnies ought to just go back to eating ribs and bacon again and forget about this business once and for all.”
More information about Chubby Bunnie support services, including the Grants-for-Granola project, can be found by visiting the Chubbie Bunnies main office, located conveniently above the Stone Cold Creamery in Montrose, or by calling 1-800-NoMoreCheese, or by visiting online at www.peelonelesspotatoe.org.
Lina Baqure
Bighorn Sheep Blocking Traffic
(Ouray CO) First it was the deer eating local gardens, then it was the elk loitering around the town’s hockey rink, then it was the chipmunks stealing horses. Now it’s the bighorn sheep who have gotten into the act.
Some say it is only instict at work. Others insist it is wanton sabotage of the existing social order in the Rockies.
Since the first snowfall of the winter, city mandarins have tried everything to discourage local bighorn sheep from blocking traffic on Main Street during rush hour. Attempts at solving the problem have included free passes (next summer) to the hot springs pool for all sheep, discounts at local restaurants and even an open invitation to bingo night at the local Elks Club.
“Sure, it was cute in the beginning when the sheep started showing up all over town,” said Raymond Markey, a former mayoral candidate who has more than 50 years experience in animal control. “When they had a problem with loafing in the mine, they’d simply hand a man his walking papers. I think we should just fire all those sheep found to be sandbagging. That should send a clear message to the rest of them.”
Markey added that he had nothing personal against the animals wanting to get out every so often.
“It’s not like they’re panhandling or washing windshields to buy another bottle of wine,” he laughed. “The problem is that they have nothing else to do. They don’t even have cable TV. Believe me,” he continued, “I can empathize with the beasts. Winters do tend to drag on in this country.”
-Suzie Compost
“A device that permits people who haven’t anything to do to watch people who can’t do anything.” – Fred Allen, on television, 1952.
Lizard Petroglyphs Suggest Mesa Verde a Hoax
(Cortez, CO — Conquistador Caves — January 14, 2017)
The famous Ancient Cliff Dwellings and the presence of humans in a communal city built into the mountain, is pure fantasy according to crude petroglyphs carved into the dark cave walls in these mountains. The roughly hewn etchings that predate man give crude proof that the Anasazi may have been out of town from 700 – 1100 AD and not the residents of cliff colonies.
What’s even more amazing is that scientists believe the drawings are the work of dinosaurs!
Detailed scale model murals clearly show the same location in 500 AD and there was nothing there. Again in 1000 AD teams swarmed about the area detecting nothing. Photos show nothing was there, not even a fry bread booth, not even a gas station.
Individual dinosaurs themselves echo the same sad refrain:
“The Ancient Ones are said
to have used this place for bed
but if we’d know for certain
we would have pulled the curtain.
If those little Anasazi
were out there running ‘round
we’d have eaten them fo’ dinner
No damn artifacts be found.”
(Apologies, but dinosaurs and lizards in general are known for their foul mouths and we are dedicated to being as historically authentic as the laws allow. The dinosaur drawings in caves near Serpent Mound in the Miami Valley of Ohio are quite definitive in recognizing Buckeye Anasazi sons-of-bitches that lived there in 1000 AD, which sheds negative light as to the validity, and the surmised existence of the Western branch of the family. )
In a related piece he first annual Contest to Rename Cortez has two semi-finalists: Hagert and Billy Holiday Village. Now instead of a murderer we can have a singer. The final ballot is slated for early August. Only Montezuma and Dolores County residents may vote.
“In a flood it pays to be tall.” – Philosopher Ming Linh Sang, to Melvin Toolulu , Quang Nam Province, January 12, 2017
Choose the man from Montrose, Colorado
Hint: It isn’t former Attorney General Eric Holder. Guess correctly and you could win a new car!
WARNING LABELS HARMFUL TO GENE POOL
EDITORIAL
When was the last time you stood in a bucket of water while repairing an electrical appliance? Do you often climb extension ladders while blindfolded? Can you successfully operate a child proof cigarette lighter? How much cotton is too much cotton when one peers into an aspirin bottle? Buckle up for safety — We wouldn’t want the insurance companies to lose money if you are injured.
The multitude of warning labels that has graced the 21st Century is severely depleting the gene pool by promoting the survival of people who would perish on their own. If we are to follow the theories of natural selection we must put a stop to this neurotic reminder machine that society has found growing like a boil on its posterior. If this insanity continues our off-spring will be no more than a pile of ignorant robots waiting for the next command.
Stop this mad intersession now before it’s too late. The only warning label we need is one that says: Welcome to the planet Earth. Maximum capacity limited. Quality of life fragile. Please do your own thinking.
Time Flies in the Tropics
I have tapped into an incredible reader audience here in my Hoi An hammock. My stumbling scribe act goes over great since none of my neighbors can string an English sentence together and my Vietnamese is still at a childlike murmur. It’s the perfect readership. They scan and smile. No critics. Being a grandfather (ang noi) as well as a journalist (nha boa) is working well in a culture where older people and creativity are cherished.
View from my house
I even did well during the recent flood as no less than 4 neighbors brought me food. Now there is no room in my refrigerator. How can one gain weight on rice and vegetables? Down them with three beers and follow that up with a dessert of a delicious Vietnamese ice cream. I will wait another day to traverse the water. Would you like some chicken and rice? How about a hunk of pickled papaya?
Cua Dai (pronounced good eye) is a bustling street that takes one to Cua Dai Beach.
The Lights are on but no one’s home. Coffee houses seem always empty but blaring, mindless digital bass music blasts into the streets anyway.
Ba Le Market is fun. The lady vendors laugh at my bad Vietnamese but I usually get a lower price because I try to speak to them in their own language.
Sunshine! (Nang!) Even the crabby lady at the mini mart smiled at me.
Finally I get to go to the beach, a 4 km ride on my bicycle.
Toi or I, me…was not used much in Vietnam until the 40s. For 1000 years the strict concept of the individual yielded to the concept of village. It is used today but people still try to get around it when talking abut themselves.
The traffic is absurd. My bicycle is great for long stretches, back streets, beach lanes and after 9 pm when everyone goes home. Often riding in the Old Town or along busy roadways is like negotiating Red Mountain Pass in July or August.
In this vein I neglected to add that the rebar-wielding grandmother from the Use Your Noodle article was texting her son and humming April in Paris when she narrowly (in my Western estimation) missed running into me on Li Thai Do Street.
A palmetto bug runs across the floor. My machete is upstairs. I hope he doesn’t see me. He looks like he lifts cockroach weights. Look at those biceps.
Today I will pay a visit to my Friend Anh Ming over on Tran Nhon Tong Street. He is always trying to show me rooms for rent in his homestay even though he has been to my house. Mr Ming is the nosiest person in Central Vietnam and Western Laos. I fully enjoy making faces of disapproval when he interrogates me. If he persists I start drinking my beer fast in preparation to leave and he settles down.
Vietnamese cuisine some of the best in the world
Sample Dialogue:
Mr Ming: You send people here to stay at my guesthouse.
Me: Well if the opportunity presents itself I will.
Mr Ming: You send to Mr. Ming
Me: I grasp your concept Mr. Ming.
Mr Ming: Air conditioning, Wi-FI, breakfast.
Mr Ming is a gardener/cook/a virtual walking multi-media salesman. Mrs Ming runs the front desk and all the cash. She is extremely pleasant to me and generally ignores Mr Ming. She has offered to take me to the market so I get a Vietnamese price on such things as eggs and toilet paper. She is quite sincere in her offer, but quite nosey too.
Their son, Dung, fixes baby motorcycles. He never asks me anything which is much preferable to the Ming grilling. Mrs. Ting smiles all the time and brings me noodles while rolling her eyes at her husband. Next time I will bring her a rose.
Well then…I’ve been a few spots on several continents but I have never been treated so well as on a little front porch bar on the river. I am the only foreignor that goes there. The only pretense there is that the patrons stare at you if you drink beer from the bottle and not from a glass. “Who brought you up? The dog?”
An Bang Beach palapas
I ask for a glass. Squid salad and beers in this populist’s Vietnamese language school. Smiles and pigeon English are flying all over my table. I started out solo near the street but now I’m set back in a more profound spot against the wall, chatting away to who knows what end. After three weeks I have three adopted grandmothers, two daughters, several good male acquaintances and a host of women mothering me.
My local was flooded recently and from the mud that hangs along the riverbank I think they got a heavy dose of what kept me inside my house for two days. I see people cleaning debris from the river just because they feel a need to do so. Just a little. Everyone does just a bit of pulling and collecting and bagging the trash that was absconded by the bad ol’ river. Sounds almost communal, even tribal.
– Melvin O’Toole
