FoolishTimes - A Monthly by capacitron

May 2008

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May 2008

May 2008 Serving the public in Monterey and Santa Cruz counties, because a man can’t just sit around.

The Head Fool Speaks All’s right with the world! The world of Foolish Times, that is. All the BS going on in the world today has created a perfect storm for Foolish Times. People are flocking to our publication so fast we have to increase the number of copies distributed (next month) to avoid some of the hostility caused when there are none to be found. Distribution points are calling for more copies to be delivered to calm the angry patrons not finding their beloved respite from the real (fill in the blank) world. We have a slew of new advertisers (although I still can’t pay the rent), thanks to the response you’ve given to the ones who have been with us for a long time. Give ’em a call and welcome them aboard! John Sammon of “Sammon Says” fame (monthly columnist in FT) has joined our staff as Sales Director. He will be glad to explain the benefits of our low-cost advertising. Call him at 648-1038 or email john@foolishtimes.net. The Unknown Cartoonist is back. And I’m not asking, just glad to have you back! Basil the Beefeater at the Crown & Anchor was given a reprieve for now, so stop by and say hello. Enjoy!

P.S. Don’t Forget The Advertisers!

Editorial Corrections Several readers were unable to spot the differences between the two photos in last month’s “Spot the Differences!” feature. Some claimed the two photos were exactly the same. Sorry—the answer is that in the bottom photo, the cat is approximately three seconds older. Keep playing!

What the (bleep) is Foolish Times? Foolish Times is a free monthly tabloid publishing the best humor we can find (some months we search harder than others). The opinions or ideas expressed by contributors are not necessarily those of Foolish Times, its owner, advertisers, or associates, or their extended families, or their friends or neighbors, or their associated pets, up to and including cockatiels. All articles, graphics, photographs, and what-not (especially the what-not) are copyrighted by the so-called “writers” and “artists” who contribute them. Foolish Times uses invented names in all its stories, except in cases where public figures are being satirized. Any other use of real names is accidental and coincidental. Submissions: We’re eager to read your stuff (see the Web site for back issues to get an idea of what we like). Just submit online to editor@foolishtimes.net. However, submissions must be received by the 15th of each month to be considered for the next publication. Snail-mailed submissions should contain provisions for the snail, and a SASE, otherwise it can’t be returned (stamps are thirty-nine cents, for Pete’s sake!). We offer no payment to contributors at this time (we’re saving to buy stamps).

Editor’s Note One thing we used to do quite a bit of, but have gotten away from in recent months, is publish humorous fiction. With this issue we pick up where we left off, with Jennifer E. Hewitt’s “The Curse of the Two-Ton Lasagna.” I’d like to invite other writers of witty fiction out there to think of us when you send that story out. We’ll consider simultaneous submissions—I understand how you could go to your grave waiting for some journals to respond. (Not us—we promise to respond in your lifetime.) However, you must notify us immediately if your story is accepted elsewhere. By immediately I mean “immediately.” As in, “I got accepted at “The New Yorker”! I must call Foolish Times!” We’d like to feature at least one fictional story per month, but are open to more as we continue to grow. So send it in! Mike T. Editorial Fool editor@foolishtimes.net

Table of Incompetence

So It Goes: Camping ............................................................ Page 4 My Bad, Your Bad, Their Bad ................................................ Page 5 Sammon Says: Schizophrenia Pros and Cons .................... Page 6 One Man’s Ceiling ................................................................ Page 7 The Curse of the Two-Ton Lasagna ..................................... Page 8 Tony’s Ticklers ...................................................................... Page 9 Jason the Fool ....................................................................Page 10 Adventures with Rex: Checker Mate ................................Page 11 Best of the Inbox ...........................................................Page 12,19 The Expiration Date: Breakfast Boy..................................Page 13 Fool-o-Scope ......................................................................Page 14 Turn The Other Chi.............................................................Page 20 Word Search .......................................................................Page 20 School Concerts .................................................................Page 21 Will Fargo’s Bogus Advice .................................................Page 22 The Fool Crossword Puzzle ...............................................Page 23 What’s Next, No pulling Weeds? .......................................Page 24 Puzzle Answers ..................................................................Page 24 Magazines Provide Hope to Aspiring Writers .................Page 25 Fool Laughs ........................................................................Page 28 Ye Old Limerick Corner ......................................................Page 29 Bill of Wrongs .....................................................................Page 29

List of Fools

Head Fool ..................................................................................................... Mike M. Advertisers: For rate information, email Mike at mike@foolishtimes.net or call: Editorial Fool ................................................................................................. Mike T. Layout Fool ................................................................................ Jonathan Rogers 831-648-1038. For rat information, call your exterminator. Foolish Cover Artist ................................................................ Jonathan Rogers Subscriptions: 1 year, $49.00. (That’s a mere $49.00 over the newsstand price. The extra charge is to bribe someone to trek to the post office and lick all those stamps, and Foolish Contributors: get a beer or three along the way.) Send check or money order made out to Foolish Times, P.O. Box 4046, Monterey, CA 93942. Allow 4-6 weeks for first delivery. No kidding. Snails are slow, man. Website: www.foolishtimes.net. For best results, use a computer.

Birdman, Tom Burns, Tony Deakin, Will Fargo, Sarah Flake, Jennifer E. Hewitt, Henry Leinen, Robyn Justo, Jason Love, Jason Offutt, Stephen L. Millich, John Sammon, Giosue’ Santarelli, Rosie Sorenson, Mary Tompsett, Sir Henry de Tunahuna, the Unknown Cartoonist, Clair Voyant, Trevor Wason

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So It Goes

off and forgot the whole thing ever happened. Until Yahaira woke up gasping. “What’s the matter?” I said. She had no air to answer. Yahaira’s nightmares get that way. It’s endearing when you’re not STUCK IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE.

by Jason Love, Syndicated Humor Columnist

Camping Tch-tch-tch-tch-ah-ah-ah-ah.

“There’s a dead body,” she said. “Men are looking for us.” I could see that she needed assurance. I grabbed her shoulders, took a deep breath, and said,“I wish we had a grownup.”

“I want to go home,” said Yahaira. We drove to the “security gate,” a metal bar certain to keep away killers ... “NOW?!” UNLESS THEY’RE ON FOOT. The pole was It was two a.m., when rednecks are fastened with a padlock that could withstand anything up to but not including loosed from local taverns wielding rifles and scythes. In muddy socks I repacka light wind. aged our campground while Yahaira, by show of support, revved the engine.

Someone suggested that I take a long walk on a short pier... “You need to lighten up, man.” That was Yahaira. She used to be my wife; now she’s my best friend (she got demoted after our divorce). Yahaira lives down the street, and we gossip through the night about our love lives.

“She had no air to answer. Yahaira’s nightmares get that way. It’s endearing when you’re not STUCK IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE.”

Pam pointed to our campsite “two miles yonder as a crow flies.” Yahaira and I stared into the night with twisted lips. “What about security?” said Yahaira. Pam waffled like the president without his ear piece. “Well, patrol doesn’t actually go out that far, but there’s a security gate. You’ll be fine.” Yahaira squeezed my arm. You could hear the music from “Friday the 13th”:

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We skidded through the security gate, which was—surprise—wide open. It wasn’t till the 101 that we eased our sphincters and reflected: “Remember that woman’s eyes when we asked about security?... What about the open gate?... Do you suppose Velma and Scooby are okay?”

We plopped down at Denny’s, I in one shoe, Yahaira in her PJs, both of us reeking of cinder. And there at our sticky table we laughed and gorged and remembered a pointer from Dave Barry: “Let’s have an adventure,” she said. Two Confederates drifted by holding “Camping is nature’s way of promoting And what made more sense than half-crumpled cans of Budweiser. One the hotel industry.” overnight camping for two people who serenaded Yahaira. So it goes. We had reached that sleepover high don’t own a tent. We borrowed supplies when you talk really fast to beat the Safe behind the Barricade o’ Death, we from an over-trusting neighbor and arsunrise. Yahaira and I had spent some rived at the campground shortly after followed our headlights to stake num- quality friend-time fearing for our lives ber three. Home. Yahaira took to striking, eleven ... p.m. or pitching, or WHATEVERING, the camp. together and had already planned our next trip to “almost go camping.” I was in charge of cursing the fire pit. “We got a little lost,” said Yahaira. Pam, the register lady, chuckled country-style, but I could see her thought bubble: “What a coupla twits.”

May 2008

At six a.m., we hugged and parted “What is WRONG with this wood?” ways. Somewhere in the distance, the I spread the leaves, showered kero- sun pried through the oak trees to resene, melted my sneaker. Nothin’. How veal a hastily abandoned campground bearing one melted sneaker, an unused do forest fires start in the first place? steak knife, and two half-crumpled cans Fire seemed urgent on account of the of Budweiser. crunching sounds. Every few minutes, a Tch-tch-tch-tch-ah-ah-ah-ah. branch would crack in a way that made your neck hair stand up. Tch-tch-tch*** tch-ah-ah-ah-ah. Jason Love is an award-winning humor columnist, stand-up comeYahaira suggested—okay, I suggested, dian, and author of “Snapshots: I suggested—that we go home. But we The Big Picture,” available at Amahad driven all night, and I had already set zon.com. Check out more of his my shoe on fire ... We agreed to sleep in work at www.jasonlove.com. the truck beside our trusty steak knives. With a gulp and a goodnight, we drifted

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May 2008

My Bad, Your Bad, Their Bad By Rosie Sorenson

It’s getting so you can’t eat or buy toys or fly these days without making sure beforehand that you’ve updated your Living Trust. You never know when Mr. Free Market will strike you dead.

sweetheart, Steve, to the Grand Canyon for his birthday, one of those birthdays to which a big, scary number is attached. The agent said he’d call me right back with some options.

Just the other day, I pulled up to the drive-in window at McDonald’s and instead of being asked, “Do you want fries with that?” I thought I heard the woman say, “Do you want salmonella with that?”

“Hey, Rosie,” he said after I picked up the phone. “Got some choices for you— cheap fares and everything. But, first you have to select the airline you want to fly on. Do you want the one with cracks in the 24ies of its planes (Southwest), or the one with electrical problems which might cause the fuel tank to explode (American Airlines), or the one where the pilot shoots holes in the sides of the cockpit—accidentally, we assume, but you never know (US Air). Which will it be: cracks, flames, or holes?”

I said, “Nope—had that last week. Just give me the e-coli, please.”

And, don’t even think about buying toys for the grandkids. If it’s made in China, you can pretty much guarantee it’s going to kill them. Or you. Last time I checked, exposure to lead was a signifi“Hmmm,” I said.“I guess I’ll go with the cant cause of brain damage. Used to be cracks.” the only time you were asked whether or not you wanted leaded or unleaded was when you pulled into your neighborhood gas station.

“Used to be the only time you were asked whether or not you wanted leaded or unleaded was when you pulled into your neighborhood gas station.”

Now, you have to stand behind the “privacy” line at Toys-R-Us just like you do at the doctor’s office, while the person ahead of you completes and signs a form which states, “I realize that by buying the above-listed toys, I am willfully submitting myself and/or others to choking, lead poisoning, and possible premature death, but I’ve decided to buy this crap anyway. I promise not to sue Toys-R-Us, or China, or any other “Good choice,” he said. “That’s the country for their cavalier disregard for one I’d pick. Oh, and there’s one more my health and the health of my loved thing…” ones.” “Yes, I know,” I said. “I’ll sign it—the And, speaking of China, what’s with form that says if the plane crashes I the apology that Mattel recently made promise not to sue. After all, it’ll be my to that country for the recall of 22 mil- bad, not theirs.” lion toys? Yes, that’s right. MATTEL apologized to CHINA for the screw-up in *** the manufacture of its toys. Apparently, Rosie Sorenson’s work has appeared in the Chinese just LOVE putting lead into the Los Angeles Times, the San Franthings. They must have a bunch of the cisco Chronicle, the Contra Costa Times, stuff lying around and, well, it has to go the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, the somewhere. But, for Mattel to apologize Berkeley Daily Planet, and the Univerto the Chinese government—that’s like sity of Iowa “Daily Palette” (curated by a battered woman apologizing to her the Iowa Review). Her essays have also abusive husband for repeatedly slam- been broadcast on KQED-FM as part of ming her cheek into his fist. “My bad,” its Perspectives series. Her essay “Safe she might say. Haven” was named Listener Favorite for 2006. She also won Honorable MenMr. Free Market (who I’m convinced by tion in the Erma Bombeck International now must be feeling really, really bad for Writing Competition in 2007. In addition, all the harm he’s causing…if only I could one of her poems appears in the 25th coax him into counseling…) has struck Anniversary edition of Mobius, the Poetry again in the airline industry. Journal. Readers can read more of her work at www.damngoodwriters.com. I called my travel agent to book a flight to Phoenix. I wanted to take my

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May 2008

you have an ache or pain, beads of sweat will break out on your forehead, and you’ll tremble and assume the worst. A pro is that because you’re convinced you’re seriously ill, you can demand and get others to do things for you, because you’re ill. Make dinner for me. Make the bed. I’m sick, you know. Take out the garbage. I’d normally do it, but I’m sick. Feel sorry for me. I’m sick. This can be very comforting and make life easier.

ammon ays by John Sammon

Schizophrenia

Pros and Cons

Schizophrenia is much more than just being a screwed-up psychopathic basket nutcase. There are positive aspects too. What are the pros and cons?

Yet another symptom of schitzo is the delusion of grandeur. This is related to feeling important as mentioned above. You believe you are a very special person. Gee! This must be a negative, a con. I wouldn’t want to believe I’m special, even though Mister Rogers told me on a TV kiddie show for years that I was. I’ve always wanted to be a nobody. Let Paul McCartney believe he’s somebody special. He’s a schitzo.

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Other symptoms of schizophrenia are disorganized and slow thinking. I think we can throw this one aside and just chalk it up to the fact that you’re stupid. You can’t help that. Yet another example is seeing, smell-

“I can tell you, there really are people out to get you. Your boss probably. And maybe your wife.”

First of all, if you’re schizophrenic, you have paranoid delusions of “persecution.” In other words, you think everybody is out to get you. Let me reassure you if you think this. I can tell you, there really are people out to get you. Your boss probably. And maybe your wife. When you earn money, your wife takes it and spends it, right?

ing, or hearing things that others can’t hear, see, or smell. A con is that if you have these, you may be schizophrenic. A pro is that if you can do these…YOU MAY IN FACT BE GOD………AND DON’T YET KNOW IT! Wouldn’t that be something? You can now go up to your boss and say confidently, “Keep it up, Bozo. Just keep it up. I’m going to fry your rear You don’t. with a lightning bolt, or sick a bunch of locusts on you, or turn the water in your Having people out to get you makes shower red.” life more interesting. What if nobody cared? Is being invisible fun? Noooo! That’s could be a real pro. Delusions of reference. This is where you think everything going on around you is directed at you. For example, the TV and radio are sending you messages, or people talking in a hushed group nearby where you can’t hear are talking about you behind your back. A con is that they’re probably saying nasty things about you. A pro is that if you’re important enough to attack, you must be very important indeed.

Let’s say a woman in your office tells you that you smell bad. But you can’t smell anything bad on you. You’re both schizophrenics, she because she can smell things that aren’t there, and you, because you believe she’s persecuting you.

Finally, schitzos have difficulty understanding. They have poor concentration, poor memory, difficulty expressing thoughts, difficulty integrating thoughts, The more important you are, the more feelings, and behavior. C’mon! How bad people hate you. Tell yourself this. This can this be? Our entire United States should make you feel important. A plus. Congress acts this way. They got elected, didn’t they? That’s all that matters. Another symptom is the false belief that you have a terrible illness without That’s got to be a pro. Schizophrenia is proof, in other words, you’re a hypo- therefore not nearly as bad as it sounds. chondriac. A con here is that every time

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May 2008

www.foolishtimes.net bad that it could belong in our house.” Usually you have such a high opinion of the Joneses and their mantle boasts picture-perfect smiles with an appropriate portrait fitting of being on the cover of “Life” magazine. These two beautiful people with four lovely children have By Giosue’ Santarelli make-up and style down to the quintessential art form. It makes the rest of the neighborhood look like a gang of refuglorious early American replica, yet leg- gees from a third-world nation who has less foot stool. Not to worry, you know just arrived via a garbage scow. the perfect place for it! Nevertheless, it is in their hideous reMany times before these cherished ject where you could conclude that this pieces hit the street an owner will try to glimpse of reality proves that they are unload it at a yard sale. Another favorite no better than you, at least beneath the American tradition; this display of “crap surface. In fact, that couldn’t possibly be I no longer want” can be found in most true. They have their groceries delivered, towns and cities on any warm Saturday morning. Of course, there are quasi-professional consumers that attend these functions. They scour the classifieds, and pay close attention to telephone-polesign postings of such impending loot free-for-alls. You’ll know a pro because they are the ones that show up considerably earlier than the start time listed on the yard sale announcement. Usually seasoned yard sale shoppers are eyeing the goods as the owner is still in “set-up mode,” or for the real hard core early cases, while the seller is still in “wake-up mode.”

One Man’s Ceiling How is one person’s junk another’s treasure? You could say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but backing up one cliché’ with another is likely to have the word police hunt down a writer and slap him silly with a thesaurus. So let’s just say that people have differing views as to what falls into the realm of valuable.

Have you ever driven through the neighborhood on trash day? Very often some piece of discarded furniture will catch your eye. It’s like passing an accident where you know you shouldn’t stare. Human nature being what it is, however, the surplus travesty found can have you envisioning all sorts of things. Inside your head a little voice says “Hey, that would look nice in our pleasure room!” It’s like you see right past the scars and the way the whole thing tilts at a 45-degree angle. You could solve that problem, and nail that sucker to the wall. It’ll be perfect. You can see it in place in When a purchaser finds something your mind’s eye. At times like this somethey want, it’s no matter to them that one needs to smack your mind, and put they are there before the sun comes up. some glasses on it! Even if the owner is in their bathrobe they start in with the inquisition. They ask questions like a drill sergeant at Paris Island inspecting new recruits. So many questions are asked that the annoyed owner offers them the family heirloom armoire for a buck ninety-eight just to shut them up, and move them along before the bulk of the crowd really shows up. What the heck, they’d like to shower and have breakfast before the long day of selling anyway. These early shoppers are usually the persnickety type; sort of like your Aunt Bernice! She’s your parent’s sister who is always snickered Of course, you find the occasional re- about at the family function by those frigerator, couch, or table that looks in gathered in the kitchen while she is crebetter condition than what currently ating more controversy at the dinner occupies your abode. It becomes tempt- table. These experienced yard sale folk ing to trade the neighbor’s garbage want to out-do the average schlub and with your own in-use furnishings. Talk grab up all the good trash before the about curbside appeal! No one wants to rest of us get there to find even slimmer negotiate with the trash man to keep it pickins. from his clutches. Trash-men are sort of The dregs of the yard sale usually end like mail delivery folks. They have their appointed rounds, and some customers up in the last round-up where the trash even give them Christmas cards. Grab truck has it in its sights. Still, if it piques that three-legged table from the trash your curiosity there is no telling to what pile as he’s reaching for it, and you might lengths you’ll go to have the neighbor’s have a skirmish on your hands. No one selected cast-off replaced by your own wants the embarrassment of negotiat- reject at your own curbside. ing with the sanitation engineer. After Of course, there are many times when successfully bargaining the item from roaming through the housing develthe grips of the city dump wagon, how opment you’ll see something and say tacky it is if you are seen smuggling re“Geeze, can you believe the Joneses had fuse from someone’s heap, and lugging such a dilapidated relic on display in it up the street. It’s better to wait for their showplace of a home? It looks so midnight, to make your move on that

“Grab that threelegged table from the trash pile as he’s reaching for it, and you might have a skirmish on your hands.”

7 drive fancy cars, and don’t pick through other people’s garbage. Their discards are usually the treasures for the rest of us. For them the sky’s the limit. After all, one man’s ceiling is another man’s floor. Look out! I hear the waffling sound of a word police thesaurus being aimed at my noggin. **** Giosue’ Santarelli is a prolific political columnist, humor columnist, and feature writer who has been scribbling for nearly 40 years. Visit his humor column website “The Devil’s Advocate” at www. devilsadvocate111.blogspot.com.

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The Curse of the Two-Ton Lasagna By Jennifer E. Hewitt “So, he calls me the other day, not to say hello to the kids or tell me when the child support payment would be coming, but to ask me to make him lasagna!” exclaimed Lydia, while wringing the life out of the sponge into the sink. “The nerve of him. As if I’m going to drop everything that I’m doing to make that S.O.B. my lasagna. I told him to have his bimbo make it. And do you know what he said?”

for eterno. Now listen to mia. Da curse isa dis: All da woman in disa famiglia must never maka da lasagna until after dey are married. If a woman maka da lasagna before da man is in da famiglia, da marriage isa doomed.” “But why, nonna? Why are we cursed? Why would a lasagna ruin a marriage?” Lydia sobbed.

Dominica left the stove and moved towards Lydia, wrapping her plump Dominica starred into the sauce she arms around her sister. was stirring, contemplating the question. “She doesn’t know how to cook?” “Da lasagna lika da apple in da garden of Paradiso. It’s not to be given before “Exactly! Apparently all she’s good for is a romp in the hay. So you know what I marriage. Da man, he fall ina love wid da food and not da woman. Aska zia Anna, said to him?” aska her why shea not married? He left Dominica reached into the cabinet her, but kept asking her for her lasagna. above the stove and pulled out a bottle So one dey, she goes to him wid a big of Marsala wine and poured a liberal two-ton lasagna and throws it ata his amount into the sauce. “I’ve got your head. He was in da hospital for a month. He still can’t talk good. But he don’t aska recipe right here?” for food from disa famiglia no more.” “No, but that would have been good. “So, should I do the same?” I told him to pay his child support and maybe if he was lucky, I wouldn’t cut off “No! Ya gotta teacha da puttana how his balls the next time I saw him down at to make da lasagna, den da curse will be Sal’s with his bimbo.” her a problema, capito—eh? And here’s “It’sa ya own fault,” Old Isabella da most important ingredient.” Old Isacroaked from the kitchen table, where bella pulled a small blue bottle from the pocket of her black dress. she sat grating cheese.

May 2008

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“Is that poison?” “Whaddya mean, nonna? I was a good wife. I cleaned; I cooked; I bore him two “No, itsa laxative. He’ll never aska for beautiful children and he rewards me by taking up with that puttana? How lasagna again.” the hell is this my own fault?” “It’sa da curse. He ate at ya table before he wasa in love wid ya. I’a tol ya not to feed him, but ya never listen to mia.” Lydia rolled her eyes at Dominica, and continued to scour away the imaginary sins on the dishes from lunch. “But I thought he was in love with me when I brought him home to eat—he said that he loved me, so how am I to blame for his leaving our marriage, please tell me for Christ’s sake, because I can’t figure it out!” Old Isabella slammed her hand down on the table. “Dona taka da Lord’s nama ina vain! Da curse will be ona dis house

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May 2008

Tony’s Ticklers

“by Tony Deakin of The Crown & Anchor Pub (Franklin Street’s Favorite Pub)”

What Is Politics? A little boy goes to his dad and asks, “What is politics?” His dad says, “Well, son, let me try to explain it this way. “You see, I’m the breadwinner of the family, so let’s call me capitalism. Your Mom, she’s the administrator of the money, so we’ll call her the government. We’re here to take care of your needs, so we’ll call you the people. The nanny, we’ll consider her the working class. And your baby brother, we’ll call him the future. “Now, think about that and see if that makes sense.” So the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what his dad had said. Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has severely soiled his diaper. So the little boy goes to his parents’ room and finds his mother sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny’s room. Finding the door locked, he peeks in the keyhole and sees his father with the nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed. The next morning, the little boy says to his father, “Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now.” The father says, “Good, son. Tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about.” The little boy replies, “Well, while capitalism is screwing the working class, the government is sound asleep, the people are being ignored, and the future is in deep sh*t.”

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Jason the Fool By Jason Offutt

Everyone stared as I pushed my shopping cart through the store … ker-thump, ker-thump, ker-thump. You know, foreign automakers should start building shopping carts if only to force the American cart industry into upgrading that one bad wheel.

tary Napkin of Absorption? Does she play Dungeons and Dragons when she’s on her period? And wings? Do these things fly? Should I pick up kite string, too?” Ker-thump.

The cart shimmied as I pushed it into the health and beauty section. I’d already picked up the milk and fruit and eaten so many free samples the little free samples lady threatened to call the cops unless I bought something. Like any real man, I’d saved the hardest thing for last. Some part of my brain must have clung to the hope that if I stalled long enough my wife’s period would be It was my fault. I was the one who initi- over and I could just go home. ated the phone call. I was the one who entered into the conversation instead of breathing heavily like I usually do. I was the one who said,“Hi, honey. Do you need anything from the store?” Yeah, it was totally my fault. But it wasn’t the thumpy wheel or that I was trying not to be seen that made people stare like they recognized me from some Internet police database. People were watching because, despite all the beef jerky, beer, and drill bits bouncing around the basket, they knew I was really at the store to buy feminine napkins.

“We need milk and apples,” she said happily, using a classic move from SunTzu’s “The Art of War,” lulling me into complacency before she struck. I should have recognized this move, but it works so darned well. “Four bananas, bread … oh, and pads. Number three strength with wings.”

“People were watching because, despite all the beef jerky, beer, and drill bits bouncing around the basket, they knew I was really at the store to buy feminine napkins.”

“Milk, apples, bananas, bread,” I reGuys, a word of advice—that particupeated as I scratched out a shopping lar brand of thinking is called Stupid list. “Pads …” Logic. It’s the same type of logic employed when we join a softball team Pads? only to realize we’re now old and fat. My hand locked, gripping the pen as Ker-thump. I pushed the cart down it hovered over the “s.” There’s very little one aisle then the next until … that will make a man’s ego vault into a fetal position faster than helping a Oh, dear lord. A wall loomed before woman maintain her plumbing. me. Package upon package of pads and liners and Tampons stacked like ancient “Pads?” I asked. stone masonry, rose to form ramparts “Yes,” she said. “Pads. Number three and parapets. Were amazons lurking behind the walls of this castle, ready to strength with wings. You got it?” assault me with a barrage of feminine I nodded dumbly and, as I hung up the napkins, creams, and assorted goos? phone, mumbled something that might Would I limp home clean and dry, smellhave been good-bye, I love you, or an ing like a spring rain? ancient Druidic curse. I don’t remember. Do you know how many brands and “What is ‘number three strength?’” I styles of pads exist? No one does. Every wondered. “Am I buying her a +3 Sani- company that ever existed must have suddenly decided to stop making chili/

May 2008

farm equipment/antibiotics/electricity and started making feminine napkins. Other than the fact that the world needs chili, it’s a sound business model—half the population of the world will buy your product every month. “Sir,” a nearby voice, soft and comforting, said to me. I didn’t really hear her, not that I couldn’t, but any more sensory input would have thrown me off balance. “Sir,” the voice said again. “Do you need help buying napkins?” No, I do not. Napkins come in big packages of 250- to 500-count. They’re square, sometimes decorated with little blue chickens and ears of corn, and you tuck one in the front of your shirt when you eat. I don’t know what these things are, but they’re not napkins. I turned to find a college-aged girl in a blue smock smiling at me like I was a toddler who’d just done something cute … and by “cute” I mean embarrassing. “Yes,” I said, pointing to the words on my shopping list, “Pads. Number three strength with wings. Oh, God, somebody please help me. Yes I do.” She found the package in seconds and plucked it from the castle wall. I thanked her and left with the knowledge that everyone in the store was not only staring at me, they were laughing, too. But I’ll pay my wife back. One day I’ll have jock itch or hemorrhoids, then guess who’s going to the store? Not me, baby. Not me.

*** Jason’s book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri: A Ghostly Guide to the Show-Me State’s Most Spirited Spots,” is available from amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com or tsup.truman.edu. Visit Jason’s Web site, www. jasonoffutt.com, for his other books.

FOOLISH THOUGHT Why do they call it an asteroid when it’s outside the hemisphere, but call it a hemorrhoid when it’s inside your ass?

May 2008

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pick up a checker and hop mine. Se- knew he was going to keep it up until I cretly, I felt he enjoyed plowing through looked at him. I grinded my molars, tellmine. (I know I would.) ing myself not to look . . . not to look.

Adventures With Rex

This was embarrassing—playing your Finally I heard the dog equivalent of dog and losing two checkers. I chalked it “patooie” and something hit me in the up to beginner’s luck. face. He jumped off me and ran back into the house. I slowly opened my eyes I moved one of mine; he moved one and saw a checker—one of mine—lyof his. I hopped his and took it. Rex stud- ing on my chest. I made a mental note ied the board and began to wag his tail. I to call my therapist and slowly assumed looked down in amazement: he plowed the fetal position. It felt like going home through two more of mine. again. “HOW DID YOU KNOW HOW TO DO THAT??? YOU’RE A DOG, FOR CRIPE’S SAKE!!!”

*** Tom Burns can be reached at: burns100@earthlink.net

FOOLISH THOUGHT Did you ever notice that when you blow in a dog’s face, he gets mad at you, but when you take him for a car ride, he sticks his head out the window?

Rex wagged his tail like a Richter scale By Tom Burns during a 9.0. I took several moments to regain my composure and study my A few years ago I picked up Rex at next move. Perhaps Rex felt I was stallthe dog pound. He’s a small black ing, because he kept looking at the clock Dachshund, and my life hasn’t been on the wall. the same since. If Rex were the Road“WILL YOU STOP LOOKING AT THE Runner, I would be Wile E. Coyote. If Rex were Stan Laurel, I would be CLOCK??? YOU CAN’T EVEN TELL TME!!! Oliver Hardy. I can never win . . . I can STOP IT! JUST KNOCK IT OFF!!” After several seconds of tail wagging, he settled never win. down.

CHECKER MATE

I had been rummaging through the hall closet looking for my high-school senior year book, deciding if I should attend the reunion. The last one I went to, I found out my old flame had married Stinky Jimenez. In a way I wanted to go to see if they were still together; if they had split up, I might make a run at her, but then, any woman who would marry Stinky Jimenez would be the epitome of damaged goods. My old checkerboard set fell from a shelf and Rex buzzed in like a scud missile to investigate.

“I AM NOT GOING TO GIVE UP ANOTHER CHECKER TO A DOG!!!”

After all, it had been a while since I had played checkers. Maybe I was a little rusty. Maybe Rex had seen a Checkers Championship on late-night TV and had been practicing when I was at work. I made my next move . . . oh-oh. Rex plowed a zig-zag through three of mine, and started to whimper in uncontrol“It’s a checkerboard, Rex. Here let me lable glee. show you.” “FINE!! That’s it. I AM NOT GOING I sat up the board and checkers on the coffee table. “The game, Rex, is to hop over your opponent’s checkers and capture them. First one with no checkers loses.” I put his paw on a red checker and moved it forward. “See? Now I can capture your checker. My move.” I moved one of mine and captured one of his. Evidently he picked up one the idea, even though he is colorblind and probably could not grasp the abstract idea of Checkers. He moved one of his with his paw.

TO GIVE UP ANOTHER CHECKER TO A DOG!!!” I slammed my arm down on the checker set, sending the board and checkers flying across the room. I got up, stormed through the kitchen and plopped down in the hammock on the back porch. I was going to assume the fetal position, but remembered what my last therapist advised: embrace the emotional pain . . . embrace the emotional pain. I stretched out and put my hands behind my head, as though everything was just fine. My . . . dog . . . just beat me . . . at CHECKERS!!! I quietly seethed.

“Hey! How did you do that? How did you get one of yours into position to After a few minutes, I heard the clicktake one of mine??? My God, you caping of nails on the kitchen linoleum and tured one of mine. Tied, one to one. Your move again, since you just got one of the “pop” of his doggy door flap. I closed my eyes. He hopped up on the hammine.” mock. I was not going to open my eyes Rex wagged his tail at his victory, and to see him give me a victorious look. moved a checker. I hopped his and took He got up on my chest. I could sense it. He put his paw on one of his and plowed through one of mine, since he he was just inches from my face. I could does not have opposable thumbs to feel the faint wisps of his tail as he started to slowly wag. He kept it up. We both

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Best of the Inbox TEXAS CHILI COOK-OFF

Note: Please take time to read this slowly. If you pay attention to the first two judges, the reaction of the third judge is even better. For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is. They actually have a Chili Cook-Off about the time Halloween comes around. It takes up a major portion of a parking lot at the San Antonio City Park. Judge #3 was an inexperienced chili taster named Frank, who was visiting from Springfield , IL. Frank: “Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment and I happened to be standing there at the judge’s table, asking for directions to the Coors Light truck, when the call came in. I was assured by the other two judges (native Texans) that the chili wouldn’t be all that spicy; and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted and became Judge 3.” Here are the scorecard notes from the event: CHILI # 1—MIKE’S MANIAC MONSTER CHILI Judge # 1—A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick. Judge # 2—Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.

May 2008

faced from all the beer.

flames. I crapped on myself when I farted, and I’m worried it will eat through CHILI # 4—BUBBA’S BLACK MAGIC the chair. No one seems inclined to stand Judge # 1—Black bean chili with al- behind me except that Rosie. Can’t feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my butt most no spice. Disappointing. with a snow cone. Judge # 2—Hint of lime in the black CHILI # 7—SUSAN’S SCREAMING SENbeans. Good side dish for fish or other SATION CHILI mild foods, not much of a chili. Judge # 3—I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Rosie, the beer maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. This 300 lb. woman is starting to look HOT ... just like this nuclear waste I’m eating! Is chili Judge # 3 (Frank)—Holy crap, what the an aphrodisiac? hell is this stuff? You could remove dried CHILI # 5—LISA’S LEGAL LIP REMOVpaint from your driveway. Took me two ER beers to put the flames out. I hope that’s the worst one. These Texans are crazy. Judge # 1—Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding CHILI # 2—AUSTIN’S AFTERBURNER considerable kick. Very impressive. CHILI Judge # 2—Chili using shredded beef, Judge # 1—Smoky, with a hint of pork. could use more tomato. Must admit the Slight jalapeno tang. cayenne peppers make a strong stateJudge # 2—Exciting BBQ flavor, needs ment. more peppers to be taken seriously. Judge # 3—My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead, and I can no Judge # 3—Keep this out of the reach of children. I’m not sure what I’m sup- longer focus my eyes. I farted, and four posed to taste besides pain. I had to people behind me needed paramedics. wave off two people who wanted to The contestant seemed offended when give me the Heimlich maneuver. They I told her that her chili had given me had to rush in more beer when they saw brain damage. Rosie saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly the look on my face. on it from the pitcher. I wonder if I’m CHILI # 3—FRED’S FAMOUS BURN burning my lips off. It really ticks me off that the other judges asked me to stop DOWN THE BARN CHILI screaming. Screw them. Judge # 1—Excellent firehouse chili. CHILI # 6—VERA’S VERY VEGETARIAN Great kick. VARIETY Judge # 2—A bit salty, good use of Judge # 1—Thin yet bold vegetarian peppers. variety chili. Good balance of spices and Judge # 3—Call the EPA. I’ve located peppers. a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have Judge # 2—The best yet. Aggressive been snorting Drano. Everyone knows use of peppers, onions, garlic. Superb. the routine by now. Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me Judge # 3—My intestines are now a on the back, now my backbone is in the straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric front part of my chest. I’m getting sh*tA virtual smorgasbord of jokes and otherwise funny stories e-mailed to Foolish Times.

You’re Reading

Judge # 1—A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers. Judge # 2—Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chili peppers at the last moment. **I should take note that I am worried about judge number 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably. Judge # 3—You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn’t feel a thing. I’ve lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they’ll know what killed me. I’ve decided to stop breathing. It’s too painful. Screw it; I’m not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I’ll just suck it in through the 4inch hole in my stomach. CHILI # 8—BIG TOM’S TOENAIL CURLING CHILI Judge # 1—The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence. Judge # 2—This final entry is a good, balanced chili. Neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge #3 farted, passed out, fell over, and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he’s going to make it. Poor feller, wonder how he’d have reacted to REALLY hot chili? Judge # 3—No Report

Continued On Page 19

Opinionated? Skilled with artistic and satirical flair? (Heck, we’ll even settle for droll, mildly vitriolic and handy with a pen.)

Want to write it? We accept humorous short stories, essays, personal experience pieces, opinions, jokes, anything that makes us laugh. So, submit your stuff to: editor@foolishtimes.net

Submit your cartoons to: editor@foolishtimes.net

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May 2008

The

Expiration Date “Is that for me?” I asked. “Yes,” he said, eyes twinkling in response. As it turned out, I had seen this man before when I worked for another publication, but we had never spoken. After looking at his card, I recognized the name and the business. Small talk ensued and I left the restaurant with my employee. Ten minutes later, my cell phone rang and it was Breakfast Boy.

“Ten minutes later, my cell phone rang and it was Breakfast Boy.” As I listened to the conversation, I couldn’t believe my ears. I had just recently purchased a new phone, so I started shaking and maneuvering it to see if I could perhaps hear this man a little more accurately. Surely I had to be mistaken and was hearing him wrong.

is definitely looking for a long-term, monogamous relationship. But he presents well physically, is reasonably intelligent, and drives a nice car (?). And obviously, this modus operandi has worked for him in the past.

talk. We talk a lot. We share stories and try like hell (sometimes in vain) to protect one another. I commend you for trying, though, but change it up a little, ok?

Gals, shame on you for allowing this sort of thing. I know that there aren’t a lot of single men in this town, but come on. A guy who says he loves women (plural) typically does just that. He loves and wants us all. A man who is looking for a woman (singular) usually is (for how long is the operative question). If we say yes to a music man who takes all of thirty seconds to cut to the chase, we can be reasonably sure he will take equally as long to hit the skids and get right back on tour. If we encourage and support this behavior, things will never change. There aren’t many Warren Beattys out there.

Now, I have to say that it isn’t my intention to keep everyone single. I do my best Jim Carrey impersonation when I’m alone writing this stuff and scream out, “SOMEBODY stop me!” Somebody, of course, being the man who appreciates my sense of humor and other quirks, and still thinks I could be the best woman for him.

And Breakfast Boy, I just hope you have time to read after all that strumMy little fingers started twitching and min’ and hummin’. dragging the rest of my body to the *** nearest keyboard. At the risk of being dubbed the Dating Nazi and hated for I received an email from a very dear being jaded, I gave in and wrote this arfriend who read my column last month. By Robyn Justo ticle. A male friend of mine warned me that I might never get a date in this town “Very fun reading, Robyn! I have to again, but a journalist has to do her due thank you—reading your articles may diligence at whatever the cost. keep me single for the rest of my life…”

Breakfast Boy

I’m a sales manager in my alter-ego life and, like Pavlov’s dog, have been trained to respond to business cards. I was having breakfast with one of my employees a few weeks ago when I looked up and noticed a very handsome (and vaguely familiar) man sitting by himself nearby. He was smiling and nudging a business card to the end of his table, so I took the bait, wagged my tail, and approached.

”Who WAS that?” she queried. I could barely answer, but managed to utter a few words in response. “WHAT did he say?” she asked. She had meandered over to the table at the restaurant after I had, to get a closer look at the man. “Obviously this guy does this all the time,” I said, without giving her the gory details.

And I wish the same for all of you. Sometimes it helps to know that we are all in the same boat together and can share a few laughs during the ride.

Now, I am a romantic woman, someCopyright 2008 Robyn Justo times hopelessly so. And I do believe in love, or lust, at first sight (or bite, in the Guys, guys, guys. Please remember case of the Breakfast Boy). I do have that this is a small town. And women healthy self-esteem, but this was the proverbial “throw ten pounds of youknow-what against the wall and see what sticks” routine. I could smell it a mile (or table) away. I might add that I had another voicemail from him waiting Send us your foolish animal photo and we’ll provide a caption! on my office line as well, trying again. I never responded. Thanks to Ted and Laura for this photo of their cats,

Foolish Animal Photos

Sometimes I would rather be wrong, bite my tongue until it bleeds, only see the best in people, but in this case I was right. A week later, a friend of mine called who told me that a mutual friend, who has a membership on a popular dating site, encountered the same individual online and that he delivered basically the same line with the same vigor (and lack of imagination). She did meet with him and was tempted to take him up on his offer, even though she agreed that he was bordering on crass as he candidly commented on her two most outstanding anatomical points and told her how many times a week he wanted sex. I have to add that this friend of mine is beautiful and very accomplished in her life, but finds it difficult to find eligible men in this town.

But I wasn’t. Breakfast Boy went right for the bacon, or the kill. After that twominute interchange, he invited me to his place for dinner in the Valley and said point-blank that he wanted me, at which point I politely told him that I wasn’t able to talk. Had I been alone, I Breakfast Boy admitted to her that he would have definitely said more and it loved women (duh) and that he plays a might not have been quite so polite. musical instrument. I secretly prayed to By the stunned look on my face, my the dating gods that my friend wouldn’t employee knew that something was succumb to his masculine wiles and become his next instrument because she up.

Edwina and Turk.

Pssst! Need some catnip?

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by Clair Voyant

May birthdays On your birthday, savor your cake slowly. But lest you forget this foolish advice, swallowing several small semi-melted candles will turn your birthDAY into a week-long celebration also known as Emergency Medical Services Week. ARIES (3/21-4/19): Don’t waste time this month reading Covey’s “Seven Habits.” Instead, examine the origins of Space Day. Space Day was not created, as some might foolishly believe, by NASA or an astronaut. It was created by the Lockheed Martin Corporation to train kids in math and science SO they could one day become loyal Lockheed Martin corporate citizens. After all, if children are our future, don’t you too deserve to profit?

LIBRA (9/23-10/22): World Press Freedom Day values the freedom of printed expression and journalistic accomplishments. While freedom of the press is guaranteed in the United States, in many other countries, it ain’t. After reading this month’s issue of the Foolish Times, you may wish to relocate to one of those countries. SCORPIO (10/23-11/21): It’s wonderful how passionate you are about Astronomy Day, but generally you’re supposed to point the telescope at the stars in the sky, not at those in Clint Eastwood’s Mission Ranch.

SAGITTARIUS (11/22-12/21): This month, examine your level of energy, which seems to be on par with TAURUS (4/20-5/20): Fatigue Syndrome Day. Ask yourself Celebrate the birthday of Edward Lear, a Taurus who wrote in a manner if you’re tired because you’re bored, quite queer, with pen and jeroboam, overworked, overstressed, depressed, craft a humorous poem, for a Limerick or not sleeping well. Then pick up the phone and call your doctor, unless Day full of cheer. your fingers are too tired to dial. GEMINI (5/21-6/21): You can celebrate Be a Millionaire Day CAPRICORN (12/22-1/19): Being practical, you combine several sooner than you think through hard of this month’s holidays into one work, sound investment, and frugal celebration: National Candied Orange spending. Or, if you just can’t wait 15 Peel Day, National Hoagie Day, No minutes, celebrate even sooner (the American way) by marrying money or Diet Day, Eat What You Want Day, No Dirty Dishes Day, and, most imporauditioning for a role on reality TV. tantly, Lumpy Rug Day (because the dirty dishes have to go somewhere). CANCER (6/22-7/22): Don’t get too moody over Visit Your AQUARIUS (1/20-2/18) Relatives Day, a day to cherish your Your temper leads you to fully apprerelatives and strengthen relationciate both National Bike Month and ships. After all, an online card surely National Blood Pressure Month. But counts as a “visit,” right? no matter how many bikers weave outside of the bike lane in front of LEO (7/23-8/22): your car, you are not permitted to Because you dream big and thrive “clip” them, unless you also want to on adversity, pay no heed to those who scoff at your desire to become a more fully appreciate National Police Week. professional sea monkey trainer this National Sea Monkey Day. Also pay no heed to those who pretend sea mon- PISCES (2/19-3/20) keys are merely brine shrimp instead Lots of people watch birds, which is of a true miracle of nature existing in better than watching American Idol. That’s why Bird Day, first observed a sophisticated aquaculture. in 1894, was set aside to watch birds and focus on conservation and VIRGO (8/23-9/22): awareness. However, awareness does What does Frog Jumping Day have not include informing the Audubon to do with Mark Twain’s story “The Notorious Jumping Frog of Monterey Society of a Tweety Bird sighting. County”? We don’t know either, but given your tendency to worry, you probably won’t sleep a wink this month trying to figure it out.

May 2008

Spot The Differences!

At a glance, these two photos look alike. However, the one on the bottom has been subtly altered using sophisticated, high-tech computer software. Can you spot the differences? Answers on page 33!

Photo 1

Photo 2

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May 2008

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May 2008

May 2008 “Best of The Inbox” Continued from Page 12

MISSING PARTS You’ve heard about people who have been abducted and had their kidneys removed by black-market organ thieves... My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. I went to sleep and woke up with someone else’s thighs. It was just that quick. The replacements had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine? I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans. And then the thieves struck again.

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4. Put decaf in the coffee maker for still out there in your pockets.” three weeks. Once everyone has gotten 5. While driving in Pennsylvania, a famover their caffeine addictions, switch to ily caught up to an Amish carriage. The espresso. owner of the carriage obviously had a 5. In the memo field of all your checks, sense of humor, because attached to the back of the carriage was a hand-printed write “for marijuana.” sign: “Energy-efficient vehicle: Runs on 6. Finish all your sentences with “…in oats and grass. Caution: Do not step in exhaust.” accordance with the prophecy.”

FOOLISH THOUGHT How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?

6. A Sunday School teacher began 7. Skip down the hall rather than walk her lesson with a question: “Boys and and see how many looks you get. girls, what do we know about God?” 8. Order a diet water whenever you go A hand shot up in the air. “He is an artist!” said the kindergarten boy. “Really? out to eat, with a serious face. How do you know?” the teacher asked. 9. Specify that your drive-through or- “You know—Our Father, who does art in Heaven... “ der is “to go.” 10. Sing along at the opera.

THE ENGINEER

There was an engineer who had an 11. Put mosquito netting around your work area and play tropical sounds all exceptional gift for fixing all things meMy butt was next. I knew it was the chanical. After serving his company loyday. same gang, because they took pains to ally for over 30 years, he happily retired. match my new rear-end to the thighs 12. Five days in advance, tell your they had stuck me with earlier. But my friends you can’t attend their party beSeveral years later the company connew butt was attached at least three cause you have a headache. tacted him regarding a seemingly impossible problem they were having inches lower than my original! I realized I’d have to give up my jeans in favor of 13. When the money comes out of the with one of their multi-million dollar machines. They had tried everything long skirts. ATM, scream “I won! I won!” and everyone else to get the machine Two years ago I realized my arms had 14. When leaving the zoo, start run- fixed, but to no avail. In desperation, been switched. One morning I was fix- ning towards the parking lot, yelling they called on the retired engineer who had solved so many of their problems in ing my hair and was horrified to see the “Run for your lives! They’re loose!” the past. flesh of my upper arm swing to and fro 15. Tell your children over dinner,“Due with the motion of the hairbrush. This The engineer reluctantly took the was really getting scary—my body was to the economy, we are going to have to challenge. He spent a day studying the being replaced one section at a time. let one of you go.” huge machine. At the end of the day, What could they do to me next? 16. And the final way to keep a healthy he marked a small “x” in chalk on a parWhen my poor neck suddenly disap- level of insanity: Send this to someone ticular component of the machine and proudly stated:“This is where your probpeared and was replaced with a turkey to make them smile. lem is.” neck, I decided to tell my story. Women of the world, wake up and smell the cofThe part was replaced and the maCHURCH JOKES FOR fee! Those “plastic” surgeons are using chine worked perfectly again. The comRELIGIOUS FOLK REAL replacement body parts—stolen pany received a bill for $50,000 from the 1. A father was approached by his engineer for his service. They demanded from you and me! The next time someone you know has something “lifted,” small son, who told him proudly,“I know an itemized accounting of his charges. what the Bible means!” His father smiled The engineer responded briefly: look again—was it lifted from you? and replied, “What do you mean, you *THIS IS NOT A HOAX*. (This is happen- ‘know’ what the Bible means?” The son One chalk mark: $1. ing to women everywhere every night.) replied, “I do know!” “Okay,” said his father.“What does the Bible mean?”“That’s Knowing where to put it: $49,999. easy, Daddy,” the young boy replied ex*WARN YOUR FRIENDS!* He was paid in full and retired again citedly. “It stands for ‘Basic Information in peace. *P.S. Last year I thought someone had Before Leaving Earth.’” stolen my boobs. I was lying in bed and 2. There was a very gracious lady who they were gone! But when I jumped out of bed, I was relieved to see that they was mailing an old family Bible to her had just been hiding in my armpits as brother in another part of the country. I slept. Now I keep them hidden in my “Is there anything breakable in here?” asked the postal clerk. “Only the Ten waistband. Commandments,” answered the lady.

TO MAINTAIN A HEALTHY LEVEL OF INSANITY

3. “Somebody has said there are only two kinds of people in the world. There are those who wake up in the morning 1. At lunch time, sit in your parked car and say,“Good morning, Lord,” and there with sunglasses on and point a hair dryer are those who wake up in the morning at passing cars. See if they slow down. and say, “Good Lord, it’s morning.” 2. Page yourself over the intercom. 4. There is the story of a pastor who Don’t disguise your voice. got up one Sunday and announced to his congregation: “I have good news 3. Every time someone asks you to do and bad news. The good news is, we something, ask if they want fries with have enough money to pay for our new that. building program. The bad news is, it’s

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Turn the Other Chi By Mary Tompsett

Last night my beagle beamed me a practiced Disney-cute look. But I’d fed her already. Or maybe not. Yes…no. Was I cuckoo bananas? The dilemma resolved with a whiff of her bunny-flavored kibble breath.

will wander off before you’re done singing “Kumbayah.” Gotta say, doesn’t look like chi would ace the Mensa exam.

WATER—Forget fountains and aquariums. Use a cheap, renewable resource: sweat! Invite those menopausal friends Some Boomers blame memory lapses over and feel the chi skidaddle. on aging. Ha, ha, and I suppose they beNo TV in the bedroom. If you insist, lieve aging causes wrinkles too!?! True, we have empirical evidence that aging cover it with a plastic table cloth after indeed causes birthdays, though for clicking off. But, dang, that means haulyears I attributed my cognitive lapses ing oneself out of bed, right? Well, sleep to hormones, stress, and that Mercury in a raincoat! The plastic deflects nasty retrograde thingy. But the real culprit? vibes, and the resulting five pints of sweat will whoosh that chi baby away. Crappy feng shui! Prison staff pronounce it fen shway, but hey, I never took French. And contrary to popular belief in the Midwest, feng shui has nothing to do with women’s wrestling. It’s a package of Chinese guidelines to improve the flow of “chi” in one’s space. Screw up the chi, my fellow bumpkins, and you’ll morph into a country-western song, waving bye-bye to your money, honey, fiddle, Fido, and lucky Bingo charms.

EARTH—Ideally represented by the colors beige and yellow. Pet owners, however, utilize the subtler hues of mud-brown and cat-puke gold. Speaking of colors, blue or green can help with weight loss, particularly if the food also turns fuzzy. The only color we want on the carrot cake, my love, is orange.

CURVES and MIRRORS—Individually good for chasing chi out of corners, but powerful when used together. A What is this “chi” of which feng shui- strategically placed convex shoplifting ans speak? Let me demystify the whole mirror—stolen, of course—will do wonders.

“For years I attributed my cognitive lapses to hormones, stress, and that Mercury retrograde thingy. But the real culprit? Crappy feng shui!”

METAL—Feng shui recommends wind chimes, but in truth, the bars on the psych ward windows work fine. Okay, gals and a few guys, remember trying to sleep with our hair in wire brush rollers? Dreadful! That’s because chi trampled us as it fled the bedroom, taking with it, of course, any hope for an amorous encounter that night.

RELATIONSHIPS—Gosh, I’d have to say my most meaningful ones are with the carryout menu, fleece throw, and the TV enchilada. Think of chi as an ill-planned Guide. Oh. You mean people?? party of toddlers hopped up on sugar and cheap hot dogs. Such an entity To improve your love chi, display phoshould NEVER be left to loiter in cor- tos of happy couples. When my faded ners, especially with indelible markers poster of Roy and Dale lost its punch, I around. So we use tools to herd and de- shook up the love chi by setting life-size ceive the beastie. mannequins of my four grandparents in the bedroom. Yeah, creepy. I’ll be dating FIRE—Preferably contained. No fire- again soon, once the bedwetting and place? No pilot light? Draw brick pat- nightmares stop. terns on a large box, and insert a red light behind hanging foil strips. With luck, chi

May 2008

POWER SPOTS—Our everyday pock- old Fear Factor reruns while lounging ets of energy: banned books, blackmail by a foil “fire.” That should goose the ol’ photos, coffee pot, and cookie jar. memory bank. SECRET ARROWS—An obtuse Chinese term that roughly translates to “Yo, mama, ditch the plaid!” Yes, plaids send out more secret arrows than a passiveaggressive in-law. That’s why traditional Chinese garb expressly prohibits wearing golf slacks in primary colors. A final thought: Red sofas are taboo! Sorry, that scarlet nine-piece sectional in your law firm has to go. Why? Ah…jeepers, I don’t remember. So tonight I’ll wear my raincoat and brush rollers to watch

Word Search

Copyright © 2008 by Mary Tompsett *** Mary Tompsett is a self-syndicated columnist hoping to snag an agent for her first novel. She lives on the far east side of Santa Cruz (okay, Wisconsin) with her dog and two cats, who allow her to believe she is their goddess. Her horse left the family for a more stable environment.

Optical Instruments!!!! MIRROR PRISM RANGEFINDER SPECTROSCOPE SPECULUM STEREOPTICON TELESCOPE THAUMATROPE VIEWER VIEWFINDER

BINOCULARS CONDENSER DIFFRACTOMETER ERIOMETER EYEGLASS GLASSES GONIOMETER LASER LENS LORGNETTE MICROSCOPE

ANSWERS CAN BE FOUND ON PAGE 24

D Q E N E T T E N G R O L N M

V I U P R M G M O T X H O R I

V E F E O L U N I T C C I E C

Y I S F A R I L R R I Y T D R

E A E S R O T E U T R E U N O

L Y S W M A T A P C L O O I S

M E E E F E C O M E E R R F C

S S T G M I E T S U Z P L E O

I E N O L R N C O A A H S G P

R P I E E A O D E M I H A N E

P R E T L P S T E X E C T A G

E I S E E M M S Q R A T L R V

S P E C T R O S C O P E E M P

S R A L U C O N I B T D Y R I

C O N D E N S E R V I E W E R

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May 2008

School Concerts By L. Dustin Twede

One of the extra perks we receive as parents of school-aged children is school music concerts.This special bonus is similar to your dentist telling you,“On top of your regular cleaning today, we’re going to throw in a free root canal.” Only with a dentist at least you get to suffer in a reclining position. For school music concerts you get to sit on bleachers, where halfway through the concert your butt cheeks fall asleep, which irritates the rest of your body, which is forced to stay awake. Your knees are digging into the person in front of you, and the person behind you is re-adjusting your spine free of charge. You’ve never met the person beside you, but they’re sitting so close you might as well be sharing the same skin. Your nose is constantly treated to the pungent odor of a school gymnasium. All fresh air (the kind with oxygen) has been sucked away and replaced with musty stagnant air (the kind without oxygen). And to top it all off, if it got any warmer the brass instruments would melt and the woodwinds would become tinder.

“I love my daughter. And I love the cello. But I didn’t love the two of them together.” I’m amazed at the number of parents who turn out for these events. What motivates them to attend? Frank and Beverly are sitting on the sofa in their living room. Frank turns to Beverly and says, “I think we should do something different tonight.”

It’s amazing the number of parents with video cameras who wait until the performance starts before remembering they forgot to charge the battery. Picture the look of disappointment on the faces of all Trent’s relatives when Trent’s father says, “I’m sorry, everybody, we were going to show you a video of Trent’s band concert, but the camera malfunctioned.” Even Great Grandma Althea, confined to a wheelchair for the past 38 years, stands and does a celebration jig.

My daughter has since traded her cello in for a lovely set of vocal chords. She is in choir. Now with musical instruments, you have to tune them. Once you tune them, you can no longer blame the instrument for making whatever noise comes out of them. With singing, your vocal chords are your instrument. And you’re either born with “in-tune” vocal chords, or “out-of-tune” vocal chords. You can’t reach down your throat and tighten one and loosen another. Case in point—my wife has a set of “out-of-tune” vocal chords. “Out-of tune” is actually an understatement. They’re more like “out-of-town” vocal chords. This generally would not be a problem except she likes to sing. She’ll be singing along to a song on the radio and the artist will actually refuse to keep singing until she shuts up. The most important thing to remember about music concerts is to show up. Don’t drop your kid off at the door and go back home, or to work, or to any other of the 2,037 things you’d rather be doing. It is important to your child that you are there. And no matter how hot, crowded, and pungent the gym is, no matter how painful the music is to listen to, your child will always remember you were there for them. And that alone is worth the intense and unrelenting torture you’ll endure

I have found, through painful experience, that no one other than you and your spouse really wants to see a video of your child doing anything. No matter how spectacular it is. You could show your relatives a video of little Katie rollerblading backwards up the side of a skyscraper blindfolded, while pulling an articulated bus with her teeth, and Over the years, my wife and I have vidtheir only response would be a yawn or eotaped every concert our children have a blink (the minimum signs of life). 10

participated in (with the exception of a few camera malfunctions). How many times have we sat down and watched them? Zero. Why? We’re saving them for that special time in our lives when our children are grown and making mortgage payments of their own. That special time when we want to stroll down memory lane in the safety of our comfortable living room recliners. That special time in our lives when we’re old and gray—and deaf as door knobs. *** Check out L. Dustin Twede’s website at www.ldustintwede.com. He can be reached at ddtwede@yahoo.com.

FOOLISH THOUGHT Who was the first person to look at a cow and say, “I think I’ll squeeze these dangly things here and drink whatever comes out?

00 11 Another interesting thing about 01 10 school concerts is the concert program 001 00010 they hand you as you walk in. The songs 00 0 0 1 0 10100 10010000 that appear in the program are never 0 0 10 1 01000 the songs the band actually plays (or the 0101 10111 00100111 choir actually sings). For example, one 11 1010100 0 0 01010 01000 0101010 10010 10 program I read said that the band was 1 1 1 0 0 0 1 1 1 0 1 0 0 00010 10101 00100101 10101 going to play the “Theme Song from 101110 0 0 1 0 1 1 1 1 1 0 0 0 0 0 10 10 10 11 10 10 Star Wars.” But when it came time to 0101 00010 1010 001 10101010 00100101 0010100 10100010 play “Star Wars,” the band opted instead 1 0 1 0 10 01 00 10010 0 0 1 to play an original composition titled 0001010 0110001 01011 10101010 00100100 10111010 0 0 1 0 0 1 1 0 0 10 10 01 10 10001 “Clarinet Squeaks and Trumpet Splats.” 00101 00100010 01010100 01010101 00100100 0 01 00 01010 1 When my daughter was in grade 00010 00000100 01010110 00100010 0 1 0 10 01 01011 school, she played the cello in the school 10101 01110010 0001000 orchestra. Now I love my daughter. And I 10100 01010 love the cello. But I didn’t love the two of 01 11101 01110 00 them together. 10

I’ll never forget her first concert. AfBeverly responds with a devilish grin, ter the violin, viola, cello, and string “A little hanky-panky, Franky?” bass players were finished tuning up Frank shakes his head and says,“I want their instruments, the teacher/conducto go someplace that is crowded and tor turned to the audience, bowed, and stinks. Someplace where the music is so said “Thank you, that was our first song, ‘Fyord De’ la Pfluer’.” Then we clapped. bad it makes your ears water.” She then informed us that the concert Beverly’s eyes light up, “You’re finally would last approximately 30 minutes. going to take me square dancing?” Not a problem. I had heard tales of people suffering on the rack for twice that Just then their middle-school daugh- long, although the only sound they had ter Frankina enters the living room and to listen to was their joints popping. Fifannounces, “I have a band concert to- teen minutes into the program somenight.” thing truly amazing happened. It was over. They were done. They took their Frank leaps up from the sofa. “We’re bows, and we removed the programs there!” from our ears.

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And Special Answers to Questionable Questions Dear Will,

Well, you have only yourself to blame, Monterey. I would say somewhere along the way you’ve probably started her on this path by trying to pound a bunch of freaky family values into her or something.

I have a problem with my cat. It seems she is sleeping about 23 hours a day. Do you think she might have chronic fatigue syndrome or a sleep disorder or something? Should I enroll her in a sleep disorder study? Will they pay me But that only gives rise to rebellion in for that? the opposite direction, Monterey. That’s a law of nature you have no control over. Or do you think she is just bored with You should have learned that from your our relationship after 12 years? I can’t cat by now. afford the vet prices around here and would value your input, Will Fargo. You seem to know so much about everything. Signed, Worried Cat Owner... in Monterey Dear Worried Cat Owner in Monterey, First of all, I’m wondering how you know your cat sleeps that much? If you sleep a normal 6 to 8 hours a night, then how do you know your cat isn’t wide awake during those hours? I’d say that your cat is probably working the swing shift but hasn’t told you about it. Or maybe she’s just going out every night kickin’ it old school with some slimeball stray dogs or something.

“Wake up and smell the burning dinero, Monterey! You need to start a paper trail of lies about those pre-existing conditions ASAP!”

Plus, it’s not like she sees you as her sugar daddy or anything. Obviously you don’t even have health insurance for her. It’s no wonder she’s out turning tricks every night while you’re snoring away a billion miles out on some undiscovered planet somewhere.

But why all the secrecy? Why is she What, too many pre-existing condimaking you think there’s something tions to get a decent rate? wrong with her? Only one thing I can think of, Monterey... guilt. She feels too Wake up and smell the burning dinero, ashamed to tell you the truth, whatever Monterey! You need to start a paper trail it is. of lies about those pre-existing conditions ASAP! If you don’t, the truth will alOK, I think I see what’s going on. Why, ways be hot on your tail and you’ll never that sneaky little floozy! Now it all makes qualify for insurance you can afford! perfect sense. Monterey, your cat is a practitioner of the world’s oldest profesTruth is your worst enemy, Monterey! sion! It’s nothing but a seductive siren singing a hypnotic song that only leads to a And while you’re out like a light every deadly trap of false happiness!! It’s all a night thinking she’s safe at home, she’s big set-up that started in the sixties with walking the streets just trying to make all that touchy-feely crap! ends meet by making ends meet, if you know what I mean. And now just look what all that un-

May 2008

conditional love has done to your poor cat! Now she’s nothing but a street hooker, trapped in the underworld of cheap thrills and, god forbid... working for a living!

the milkman making your rounds at 4:30 on a Monday morning smoking Lucky Strikes and praying for a new muffler to fall from the sky while you hit off a flask of brandy just to get the day started.

Don’t you think she’d be far better off sharing a plastic bag of formaldehyde with some stupid frog somewhere so they can at least make a contribution to society by helping secure the future of the local BMW dealership?

You gotta learn to take a hint, Monterey! Don’t try and hold on to what you never really even had in the first place. If you don’t, it’s gonna eat you alive!

Now make your peace with her and No? Well then, I would suggest an in- move on!! tervention by family and friends to try Will…I WILL GO FAR!!!…Fargo and stop her from destroying all that you’ve both worked so hard for all these years. I’m talking about the bond of love between pet and owner, Monterey! And don’t you be ashamed to say it! You love that little hussy even though she’s nothin’ but cheap trailer trash! I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, Monterey, but I’m going to tell you anyway! It’s for your own good! Let her go! Let her go and find her own way! She may fall down and get kicked around or run over by a car or something, but she’ll get back up again! It’s no big deal!

FOOLISH THOUGHT Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat?

You see, she doesn’t need you anymore, Monterey! You might as well be

The Lady Mosquito You will never see a mosquito Eating a bean burrito. In a drought or in a flood

She would rather suck your blood; And thereby spread malaria Throughout the entire area. How can a bug so tiny Out monster Frankensteiny?

a poem by Stephen L. Millich

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May 2008

Foolish Crossword Puzzle

This Month’s Foolish Crossword Clues ACROSS

Have some fun and learn more about our advertisers by solving this crossword puzzle. The clues are actual words that appear in ads in this issue of Foolish Times or are simply hints that will lead you to the ads. Identify the advertiser from the clues and then write the advertiser’s name in the puzzle. Eliminate apostrophes, periods, other punctuation and spaces between words in names of more than one word.

2. Gizdich Pies 4. Celebrating 10 years 8. 95 central ave P.G. 11. new buget strecher corner 12. family friendly service 14. the art & science of growing plants 15. first time in Monterey 16. Mobile Auto Detailing 17. indoor batting & sporting goods

DOWN 5 6

7 8

9 10 11 12

1. kingston trio 3. custom furniture 5. where have you had a better burger 6. put spring in your step 7. everything is made from scratch 9. we ship worldwide 10. lunches start at 4.99 13. authentic homemade italian country recipes ANSWERS CAN BE FOUND ON PAGE 24

13 14

FOOLISH THOUGHT

Who was the first person to say, “See that chicken there? I’m gonna eat the next thing that comes outta its butt.”

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What’s Next, No Pulling Weeds? By Tim Ehlerding

Next to eating apple pie at Mom’s on I’m the one trying to clean things up! a Sunday afternoon following church, Hey…just call me a great American, I there’s nothing more American than don’t mind. washing the Ford in the homestead driveway. So why now is this tinge of guilt running through my thoughts as I shampoo It’s a ritual that has few equals, save the Chevy? the occasional fish fry at the Catholic church or the summer 4H fair parade… “Are those people that honked at me but next to that, any red-blooded Amerpointing out publicly I’m some type of ican agrees the smiles derived from environmental terrorist?” making the wheels shine is something to behold. “Were the waves at me? Or were they trying to wave down a police officer to Earlier today, I counted seven honks, arrest me for muddying our streams?” three waves, two “Hey, you missed a spot!” (remember when YOU were in “Am I…you know…inherently evil?” high school?...ah, high-school humor), and one “I’m next” while giving the famThe thoughts keep running through ily minivan her weekly bath. my mind. There’s something about bathing a Which begs the question…what’s Buick that ties a neighborhood togeth- next? I can’t spray Windex on the outer. side windows? However, while spraying off the last round of suds, some talk-show host on the radio starting spouting off about how the rinse cycle I was currently applying is killing our nations’ waterways. Something about the runoff from my car traveling down my driveway, onto the street, into the storm drains, and ending up in the nearby river. He was saying how some politicians are outlawing driveway washings altogether...all in the name of clean water.

Sweeping the sidewalk—punishable by community service? Pulling weeds from the flowers equals six months in the pen? “So what ‘cha in for?” “Yankin’ a thistle.” I’m a bit nervous…I just mowed my lawn one-half inch lower than the manufacturer recommended three-inch height.

I believe these are the same politicos who passed a law that punishes jumpI think I hear the black helicopters ing off a building with the death pen- coming. alty. We’ve got an election right around the Can I say more? corner…here is what I want to hear… laundering the Lincoln would not be a First…the dirt being washed off the crime. Make that tops in your campaign car CAME FROM THE ROAD…I’m simply promises and you’ve got this radical’s vote! returning it to its rightful owner. Second, today the thermometer hit 98 degrees…the water evaporated nearly before it hit the ground. Third, the water I rinse from my car is at least 23 times cleaner than the river.

I’m keeping my right to a clean car.

May 2008 ANSWERS FOR FOOLISH CROSSWORD PUZZLE ON PAGE 23

ANSWERS FOR WORD SEARCH PUZZLE ON PAGE 20 D + E + E T T E N G R O L N M

+ I + P R M G M O + + + O R I

V + F E O L U N I + + C + E C

+ I S F A R I L R R I + T D R

E A E S R O T E U T R E + N O

L Y S W M A T A P C L O + I S

M E E E F E C O M E E + R F C

S S T G M I E T S U + P + E O

I E N O L R N C O + A + S G P

R + I E E A O D + M + H + N E

P R + T L P S + E + E + T A +

E + S + E + + S + R + T + R +

S P E C T R O S C O P E E + +

S R A L U C O N I B + + + R +

ANSWERS FOR FOOLISH SUDOKU PUZZLE ON PAGE 16 3 1 2 4 7 8 5 6 9 9 6 4 5 1 3 7 8 2 8 5 7 6 9 2 1 4 3 2 4 3 1 5 9 6 7 8 5 8 9 3 6 7 2 1 4 6 7 1 2 8 4 9 3 5 1 2 6 8 3 5 4 9 7 7 3 5 9 4 6 8 2 1 4 9 8 7 2 1 3 5 6

C O N D E N S E R V I E W E R

ACROSS

2. CARMELLYVALLEYMKT 4. CYPRESSCABINETS 8. MONTEREYMOTORS 11. THEHANDMADEN 12. PENINSULATIRE 14. MBAYHORTICULTURESUPPLY 15. JANEWOOSTERSCOTT 16. VALLEYPROSHINE 17. CAGES DOWN

1. GOLDENSTATETHEATRE 3. JOSEPHSUPOLSTERY 5. DUFFYSTAVERN 6. VIBEALIVE 7. MONTECAFE 9. MONTEREYMATTRESS 10. KAHNKABOBHOUSE 13. LADOLCEVITA

May 2008

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Magazines Provide Hope to Aspiring Writers

The Unkown Cartoonist

By Sarah Flake I just got my copy of the “2008 Writer’s Market” reference manual. I’m trying to find markets to submit essays for publication and thought I could find some good leads in it. The section on magazines was particularly encouraging. There is a market for everything. Along with the magazine contact information, they offer Editor tips to be published. Here are a few I loved:

methods of composition. Write about your sense perceptions of the suchness of entities; avoid ego-centered interpretations.” Yowzers. I can’t even write about the “suchness” of toast.

“Relocating to the Lake of the Ozarks”: Luckily, the Editor gave a tip for those considering submitting pieces. “Read the magazine and understand our audience.” Thanks, because we really didn’t “Coonhound Bloodlines”: From the get it from the overly vague title. editorial staff, “Writers must retain the “The Montana Catholic”: This maga‘slang’ particular to dog people and to zine is only for Catholics living in WESTour readers—many of whom are from ERN Montana. So let’s see, that leaves the South.” Reading between the lines here, be careful not to use multi-syllabic us with about 10 readers. They accept words. They just wouldn’t understand. “Miniature Donkey Talk”: “We cover nonshow events such as fairs, donkey gatherings, holiday events, etc.” What is a donkey gathering and how do I get on the guest list?

“What is a donkey gathering and how do I get on the guest list?”

“newWitch”: Editor’s note, “Particularly interested in how-to spellcrafting and material for solitary pagans and wiccans.” If you liked “Sabrina Teen Witch,” you’ll LOVE “newWitch”! Also included are tips to make sure you aren’t invited to Prom.

just about every kind of submission, but draw the line at poetry. Because real Montanans don’t read poetry. Even if they are Catholic.

“Good Old Days”: If you think everything’s gone downhill since the Civil Rights Movement, Women’s Liberation, and TiVo, you’ll love “Good Old Days.” This magazine glorifies the first half of the 20th century—everything from trollies to garters. Pick up your copy to remember why they called it the “Great” Depression. “Autograph Collector”: “Articles stress how and where to locate celebrities and autograph material.” An alternate magazine title they considered was “Stalkers with Sharpies.” “Teddy Bear Review”: I threw up a little when I saw this one. “We are interested in good, professional writers around the country with a strong knowledge of teddy bears. Historical profile of bear companies, profiles of contemporary artists, and knowledgeable reports on museum collections are of interest.” “Modern Haiku”: Editor’s tips, “Study the history of haiku, read books about haiku, learn the aesthetics of haiku and

“The Hook Magazine”: Apparently there is a sport called “tractor pulling” that I’d never heard about. Here’s the magazine for everyone else lucky to be in on it. The Editor tips, “Features on individuals and their tractors...and what they want from competing...Write ‘real’; our readers don’t respond well to scholarly tomes.” No, I guess they wouldn’t. “Catholic Forester”: I was disappointed with this one. I went to the website and it turns out it’s not a magazine for actual Catholic forest rangers, but just some insurance group. Too bad. I had this great visual of a nun wrestling a grizzly bear. “Dogs in Canada”: I feel for this Editor. He had to specify that they did “not want articles written from the dog’s point of view.” So take heart, writers of America! There IS a market for you. You just need to find it. *** Sarah Flake is the author of a humor blog at hollywoodflakes.org that has approximately 10,000 readers a month.

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Fool Laughs THE BOTTLE AND THE BOMB Once upon a… plane there were three people flying to New York. They had been flying for so long and were beginning their descent. “Excuse me, I have a bottle, what should I do with it?” asked one of them to the flight attendant. “Oh, just throw it out the window,” said the flight attendant. “Okay,” said the person, throwing the bottle out the window. Another person stopped the attendant. “Excuse me, I have a bottle, what should I do with it?” asked the person. “Oh, just throw it out the window,” said the flight attendant. “Okay,” said the person, throwing it out the window. The last person stopped the flight attendant.

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lision.

The teacher answered quickly, “That where you are, or where you’re going, would be the Titanic.” St. Peter let him but you expect my immediate help. Canadians: Recommend you divert through the gate. You’re in the same position you were in YOUR course 15 degrees to the South to before we met, but now it’s my fault!” avoid a collision. St. Peter turned to the garbage man and, figuring Heaven didn’t really need Americans: This is the captain of a all the odors that this guy would bring THIS MONTH’S LAWYER JOKE US Navy ship. I say again, divert YOUR with him, decided to make the question A lawyer opened the door of his BMW, course. a little harder: “How many people died when suddenly a car came along and hit on the ship?” the door, ripping it off completely. When Canadians: No. I say again, you divert the police arrived at the scene, the lawYOUR course. Fortunately for him, the trash man yer was complaining bitterly about the had just seen the movie. “1,228,” he andamage to his precious BMW. Americans: This is the aircraft carrier swered. USS Lincoln, the second largest ship in “Officer, look what they’ve done to my the United States’ Atlantic Fleet. We are “That’s right! You may enter.” Beeeeemer!” he whined. accompanied by three destroyers, three cruisers, and numerous support vessels. St. Peter turned to the lawyer: “Name “You lawyers are so materialistic, you I demand that you change your course them.” make me sick!” retorted the officer. 15 degrees North, that’s ONE FIVE DE“You’re so worried about your stupid GREES NORTH, or counter-measures will THE BALLOONIST BMW that you didn’t even notice your be undertaken to ensure the safety of A man piloting a hot air balloon disleft arm was ripped off!” this ship. covers he has wandered off course and “Oh my gaaaad...” replied the lawyer, Canadians: This is a lighthouse. Your is hopelessly lost. He descends to a lowfi nally noticing the bloody left shoulder er altitude and locates a man down on call. the ground. He lowers the balloon fur- where his arm once was. “Where’s my ther and shouts, “Excuse me, can you tell Rolex?!” A HUSBAND-AND-WIFE me where I am?”

CONVERSATION

This guy’s wife asks, “Honey, if I died, The man below says, “Yes, you’re in a “Excuse me, I have a bomb, what would you remarry?” and he replies, hot air balloon, about 30 feet above this should I do with it?” asked the last per- “Well, after a considerable period of field.” grieving, we all need companionship, so son. I guess I would.” “You must work in Information Tech“Oh, just throw it out the window,” nology,” says the balloonist. She then asks,“If I died and you remarsaid the flight attendant. ried, would she live in this house?” and “Yes I do,” replies the man. “And how “Okay,” said the person as he threw he replies,“We’ve spent a lot of time and did you know that?” money getting this house just the way the bomb out the window. we want it. I’m not going to get rid of my “Well,” says the balloonist, “what you Once they had landed, the people met house, so I guess she would.” told me is technically correct, but of no a woman crying. use to anyone.” “If I died and you remarried, and she “What’s wrong?” asked one of them. lived in this house, would she sleep in The man below says, “You must work our bed?” and he says,“That bed is brand in management.” “I was walking with my baby when a new. We just paid two thousand dollars bottle came down and hit my baby in for it, and it’s going to last a long time, so “I do,” replies the balloonist, “how did the head.” I guess she would.” you know?” They came across another woman So she asks, “If I died and you remarwho was crying for the same reason. ried, and she lived in this house, and slept in our bed, would she use my golf Then they came across a man who clubs?” was laughing. “Oh no,” he says, “she’s left-handed.” “What’s so funny?” asked one of them. “I was walking down the street and I AT THE PEARLY GATES farted and the building behind me blew A teacher, a garbage collector, and a up,” said the man, laughing. lawyer wound up together at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter informed them that in —by Trevor Wason order to get into Heaven, they would each have to answer one question.

A RADIO CONVERSATION

May 2008

St. Peter addressed the teacher and A radio conversation between a US asked, “What was the name of the ship naval ship and Canadian authorities... that crashed into the iceberg? They Americans: Please divert your course made a movie about it.” 15 degrees to the North to avoid a col-

“Well,” says the man, “you don’t know

THE TOURIST

An American tourist goes into a restaurant in Spain and orders the specialty of the house. When his dinner arrives, he asks the waiter what it is. “These, senor,” replied the waiter in broken English, “are the testicles of the bull killed in the ring today.” The tourist swallowed hard but tasted the dish and thought it was delicious. So he comes back the next evening and orders the same item. When it is served, he says to the waiter, “These testicles...are much smaller than the ones I had last night.” “Yes, senor,” replied the waiter. “You see...the bull, he does not always lose.”

May 2008

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Ye Olde Limerick Corner Brought to you by people with really strange names (evidently their parents didn’t love them very much).

There once was a lonely gyrene Who whiffed some fatal phosgene. He’d run out of luck He’d forgotten to duck, It is what happens when people get mean. —Birdman There is a fine man name of Gene Who is a virtual limerick machine. He praises musicians And pillories politicians, With his rhymes surprising clean. —Birdman Lest you think that man is a clown Please note he has a big frown Tho’ his nose is Big Red His smile is dead And his mouth is, alas, curling down —Sir Henry de Tunahuna While penning a new form of schtick The bard became pale and got sick The upchuck he threw From yesterday’s stew Spilled into this little limerick —Sir Henry de Tunahuna

Bill of Wrongs By Ben Haley

Congress is currently discussing whether they should pass the Passenger’s Bill of Rights to regulate the behavior of airlines in regards to their passengers. Until the day that it passes, which could be decades from now given the efficiency of Congressional conversations, we will have to deal with the current unwritten, or at least until now, Passenger’s Bill of Rights. 1. You have the right to a snack that would satisfy a gerbil, but only a moderately sized gerbil—not a large gerbil. For those who complain of the mediocre rations and request an extra morsel, you are entitled to one icy stare that will function as a “no.” 2. You have the right to wonder, if only for a moment, what happens when you flush an airplane toilet: Is there a tank somewhere or does “flushing” really mean “dropping?” You also have the right to wait to flush until you calculate that you are directly over your in-laws’ pool and then hope your hypothesis was correct.

6. If you are known to be a writer of caustic articles about the airplane industry, you are entitled to a middle seat between a group of septuplets directly next to the lavatory. You have the right, when the children simultaneously “burp,” to function as an extra air sickness bag. 7. You have the right for your children to remain silent. Please parents, you have the right to keep your children silent. Look, we’re losing flight attendants every day who complain of crying kids. If you don’t shut them up we’re going to make you put them in the overhead bin. Yes, for those who are inquisitive, they will count as your carry-on. 8. You have the right to hate passengers in first class as they nakedly judge you—the miserable proletariat—walking by. You also have the right to boldly return their stares and think, “If I had your kind of money, I would get a better haircut.” 9. You have the right to question whether a Gameboy really has the ability to disrupt your airplane’s takeoff and landing. You don’t have the right to an answer. Indeed, if you ask this question you will immediately lose the privilege of your Gameboy, which you can only have back when you are suitably contrite. In any case, you will be sent to Guantanamo Bay where you will not have the right to legal representation, a trial, or anything dictated by the Geneva Convention.

3. After being forced to watch a romantic comedy where there is a good deal of time spent wondering who the romance was supposed to be between, you have the right to ask the name, address, title, and approximate salary of the airplane executive charged with selecting in-flight movies. You have the subsequent right to send him a strongly worded letter asking that he delegate the responsibility to an underling with better taste or at least someone who 10. You have the right to lose at least knows that Matthew McConaughey and one piece of your luggage as well as the Kate Hudson are not compatible. right to question a baggage attendant 4. You have the right to wonder where who appears to be wearing your shirt. If the wings they used to pin on the lapel your shirts have your initials on their tag, of children went, the ones that were dis- you have the right to reclaim your shirt. tributed with the also now-gone snacks You also have the right to not have your of peanuts. When you are contemplating Mom initialing all of your clothes. where these things have gone, you also You have the right to hope Congress have the right to wonder, after particularly rough landings, whether your pilot picks up their pace, but you also have has any credentials at all past that set of the responsibility to understand that wings they pinned on him at the age of will never happen. eight. You then have the right to try to *** remember what you did with yours. 5. You have the right to flight delays that cause you to miss weddings, holidays, and the adolescence of your children.

Other columns by Ben Haley can be found at www.atwitsbeginning.com

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FOOLISH THOUGHT Why is it that people say they “slept like a baby” when babies wake up and cry every two hours?

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