All Entries Tagged With: "Western"
Ancient Bones Are Biscuits and Gravy
(Gunnison) What at first appeared to be ancient artifacts, possibly the bones of an Anasazi warrior, has turned out to be no more than petrified biscuits and gravy according to archaeologists here. The dig, centered in the area of W Mountain, will continue for another five years in the hopes of discovering more.
Scientists, who have been carefully extracting pieces of the puzzle from the rocky soil above Gunnison, were not thwarted by the laboratory findings.
“We have become accustomed to frustrations out here in the field,” said one digger. “Why just last year in Delta we thought we’d exhumed an ancient Ute canning operation but it turned out to be an abandoned Plymouth.”
Sources at Western State University insist that the dig continue adding that artifacts lend credence to theories that the Anasazi were not able to manipulate cholesterol levels and that, in short, they generally ate whatever ran across their path.
Although the quality and taste of the biscuits and gravy will not be known until the lab report is completed, conjecture here has it that the Ancient Ones made their own buttermilk biscuits and brewed a sort of gravy from buffalo milk and the excesses of smoked sausage.
After primary examination, the content of the gravy seems to match up with the consistency of a favorite trench mortar used to construct the Cliff Palace at Mesa Verde. This theory too, will be subject to the laboratory report.
“A regular diet like this may lead us to answers that have eluded us in the past,” said one scientist, “and once and for all determine the actual demise of an entire civilization.”
Tourists are asked to stay clear of the excavation site until about 2040.
– Melvin O’ Toole
Fast Food’s Very Negative Impact
The real world of the fast food industry. Counter clockwise Top: Actor portraying happy fast food worker. Actual Fast food worker. Young diners. Rewarded stockholders.Trash generated by fast food industry.
TRUMP TO GRACE $10,000 BILL
(Florida White House) President for now, Donald Trump, may grace new United States currency as early as summer. Due to an Executive Action on the part of the besieged Commander in Chief, his familiar sneer with orange hair is perched to don the newly minted $10,000 bill.
Along with Trump’s mug the bill will be decorated with In Wall Street We Trust and feature an engraving of Trump Towers in Manhattan on the back.
Poster boy in front of The Towers of Babble in NYC
Most of his middle class supporters, former and current, will probably never see one. Conversely many are behind the move saying their boy deserves the honor of joining Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln on American currency.
Mount Rusmore was not discussed.
What’s in it for me Republicans and gelded Democrats mumbled approval while telling their constituencies that they were fighting for their rights and freedoms. Most appear anxious as to whether they, as contractors, will be stiffed by Trump come pay day.
Whether or not the cumbersome, almost worthless penny will finally be discarded was not discussed according to unreliable sources on the scene. Sources in the House confirmned that it would act on the penny as soon as Obamacare is replaced.
Detractors chimed in saying that maybe the President can cash a few of these new notes in to pay for his lavish vacations charged on the taxpayer’s tab.
One vocal critic of the current administration told The Horseshoe that National Security Advisor, Steve Bannon had been considered for a newly proposed $100,000 bill but considering his covert role he has declined the offer.
“We see a day,” said House Whip, Rich McGrovel, “when the rich will use bills of this denomination for debts public and private, while the rest of the peasants will clutch the same old fives and tens trying to survive inflation.”
Although nothing is certain, the White House has seen a parade of cosmetologists and photographers since the plan was announced Friday.
In a related piece, Education Secretary Betsy DeVos plans to ban the Spanish language from public schools. DeVoss who consistently earned straight As in penmanship while in high school, explained her position in that “I can’t understand a word that those people are saying.”
Readers are warned to keep seat belts securely fastened as turbulence is likely to occur.
“Incompetence is it’s own reward.” – Uncle Pahgre
Another Wall Story III
(Ed note: In the following segment the reader may notice different sounds accompanying different flat tires. This could have to do with the blazing hot asphalt or maybe it’s what I remember the sounds to be.)
My Chevy pickup died in Galveston. It sounds like a country song but it was real. I had driven down here to go to the wedding of a good friend and the truck, which had been so reliable in the past, suddenly had turned on me.
There was nothing left to do but stick out my thumb in the muggy Texas heat on lovely Interstate 10. I quickly got a ride in a semi to the town of Gonzalez where Willie Nelson just happened to be having a party. It looked like a pleasant detour especially when I saw the line-up of Ernest Tubb. Kris Kristofferson. Rita Coolidge, Jerry Jeff Walker, Leon Russell, Ray Wiley Hubbard, George Jones plus Willie and Waylon Jennings and more.
After two days of beer, blood and music I left Gonzalez and headed back on the asphalt. In just moments a rough, epoxied 1970 ford Galaxy pulled over. The driver had a sizzled flat tire and we started talking while he attempted to patch it. His name was Carlos. His family came from somewhere in Sonora and he lived in San Antonio where I had hoped to stay for the night.
With the tire repaired we headed west. I had noticed that all the other tires (Carlos had no spare of course) looked like prophylactics. Soon, from my shotgun seat, everything appeared in order but that was not to be.
“Pop!” There went the rear tire on the driver’s side and the car crawled to the side of the road again. “Damn” cursed Carlos who looked at me half laughing and half crying. “I should have brought a spare.”
We removed the tire and Carlos went into Sequin, Texas to have it repaired. I sat in the paltry shade of a solitary mesquite tree, like a feeble middle finger reaching for the sky. Its’ sun-scorched limbs defiantly gasped for life while I attempted to stay out of the sun. I still had my broken down white Stetson that some woman had given me at Willie’s deal. It looked stupid this was no fashion show.
“You don’t have to stay here and wait for me,” he smiled.
“Someone has to watch the car while you are in town,” I said.
“Why?” he asked. “It’s not going anywhere. Only a crazy person would steal it”
In about an hour he returned and found me still there. We installed the newly patched tire and went on our way. Before long we were approaching Santa Clara and a distinct wobble began to emerge from under the car.
“It’s just the drive train or maybe the transmission,” said Carlos. “I’m not too worried. We are almost there.”
As the skyline of San Antonio came into view another loud Whop was detected over the blasting radio. Now Carlos was pissed…Three flats in 120 miles! We went through the same charade as before with Carlos taking the flat to a gas station on Yucca Street near Artesia.
I waited, keeping an eye out for the many thieves that would love to steal his beat-up wreck with bad tires. He returned in the company of a mechanic he knew from high school who frowned and lent him a spare. We were then in San Antonio.
“Do you like enchiladas? he asked.
“Yes, very much I replied.
“Good. We we’ll go to my parents’ house for dinner. He pulled over to a phone booth and called his family to announce he was bringing a guest to dinner.
Arriving at his home I met his mother and father and feasted on chili rellenos, refried beans, fresh tortillas and cheese enchiladas. He told them of our adventures and they shook their heads and stared at him like he was nuts. His mother insisted I eat more and, not wanting to create a negative cultural incident I downed another enchilada. It was now dark.
“I will give you a ride to the river where you can find a hotel,” he said. “This neighborhood is no place for you after dark.”
To my great relief he borrowed his father’s car and drove me downtown to the San Antonio River. In just moments I heard “Where y’all going?” sweetly sang out. That’s when I met two exotic dancers who invited me home, but that is another story.
