FILTHY DRUNKEN LIAR

Ok, so last Friday I went out to Madfish Willie's bar just to see what the folks was up to. Happy Hour was pretty quiet, just The Bartender washing up glasses & throwing occasional chunks of beef jerky to that snarly, drooly rottweiler of the Emperor's that he was watching while Misha & Frank were busy ClueBattin' some hippies across the street. Then I noticed Matt O'Blackfive sittin' in the corner, drinkin' his usual 6 beers at once. He waved me over and told me he had a confession to make.

Matt: Harv, I'm thinking of quitting the Alliance & throwing in with Evil Glenn.

Harv: Matt... you CAN'T be serious! You're the PATHFINDER! We need you and your eagle eye to monitor the Axis troublemakers!

Matt: I know, I know. You think this is easy for me? I know that puppy-blendin' sumbitch needs to get taken down. I know that in my heart, but...

Harv: But what? How the hell can their be a "but"? Don't you remember the evil tatoos? The naked Robot Dancing?

Matt: Hmmm. Let me check my arm... Nope. All it says is Susie... rack... thong... YUM!

Harv: Yeah, I know what you mean. *sigh*. OH! uh, anyway, what about quitting the Alliance?

Matt: Uh... Oh, yeah. It's just that, well... I'm just thinking... what with all Evil Glenn's hobo-murderin' for Satan, he's got some good connections, and well... with the Cubbies in the playoffs & all... I was just sorta thinkin'...

Harv: Let me see if I got this straight. You'd be willing to sell your soul to Satan, murder hobos, and give up beer for puppy shakes for the rest of your life just to see the Cubs win the World Series?

Matt: 95 YEARS, HARV! IT'S BEEN 95 GOD-DAMNED YEARS! 95! 95! 95! YEARS! YEARS! YEARS!

Harv: Geez, Matt, calm down, willya? Everyone in the bar is staring at us, and...

...and then, from over by the Bartender, we heard him:

Evil Glenn: Indeed.

...all talk of capitulation ceased. Pure courage rushed through our veins, and a steely, beer-fueled resolve compelled us to...

Well, I'll let The Bartender tell the rest of the story...

BURNED AT THE BONFIRE

Bonfire of the Vanities #238 is up at Wizbang. Kevin really whacked me a good one, so I felt morally obligated to jingle his tip jar (remember the basement beating scene from Dirty Harry?).

All the entries were fairly foul this week (which is only proper), but this story of a handyman job gone horribly wrong gave me the worst sympathy pains I've ever had. It really should've come with a Cringe Alert.

For my blogless brother Tom, I'll explain it as "Yyyyyyaaaaaarrrrrrrr!"

200 WORDS OR LESS:

MEDITATION

Today's question comes from the book, "The Conversation Piece":

********

Suppose that each day you had to spend one hour in private meditation or contemplation and that by snapping your fingers, you could instantly transport yourself anywhere for the duration of this quiet time. Where would you choose to go?

********

Last time I used this power, I wound up in a California forest. My old friend Lumberjack Bill was having some problems:

Harv: What's the trouble, Bill?

Bill: I need to cut down a tree, but there's a damn hippy in the way. Same one that chained himself to a tree last week.

Harv: So what? Last week you just sawed his damn arm off and he got himself unchained pretty quickly.

Bill: Yeah, but this time he's way up high and I can't get near the tree at all.

Harv: The smell?

Bill: That too, but it's the singin' that's the real problem.

Harv: Hmmm... I'll see what I can do.

I wandered off and soon heard an off-key screeching, not unlike a blend of Mariah Carey and a hundred mating alley cats:

"Tofu, granola, and Birkenstock sandals,

Incense, patchouli, and spacey drip candles,

Acid and Phish songs, such good times they bring,

These are a few of my favorite things!"

Harv: Gotta stop this nightmare! Hmmm... what would Darwin do?... AHA!

[5 minutes later]

Bill: What happened? I heard a scream and a thud.

Harv: Think, Bill. How do you get a one-armed hippy out of a tree?

[Together, smiling]: Wave!

TODAY'S LOVE NOTE

(Introduction)

My wife makes the best lasagna in the whole world :-)

TODAY’S GRAFFITI CURRENCY



While contemplating his mission to "come up with something... you know... different" for the design of the new 20, Treasury Secretary John Snow found inspiration oozing up between his toes while stepping barefoot in something his dog left on the carpet after eating and rejecting his wife's peanut-butter-and-pistachio cream pie.