In an embarrassing turn of events for local beagle and beloved cartoon character Snoopy, a hidden stash of Playbeagle magazines was discovered while cleaning out the pooch's doghouse for renovations.
Charlie Brown, his owner of many years, found the soft-core dog based magazines Thursday behind a set of the dog's golf clubs. The entire Brown family was present when the illicit discovery was made. “Snoopy must have forgotten this was the day we were fixing his house. Boy was his face red.”
Playbeagle's cover hails itself as “Premiere Entertainment for the discerning male dog”. Despite Snoopy's argument that he had forgotten about the collection, an issue as recent as September 2008 topped the stack, featuring Paris Hilton's chihuahua in a revealing pose. “It was disgusting” Brown said of the cover, which depicted the immaculately groomed puppy licking her own privates.
Snoopy defended his love of the publication for its articles and interviews. The September issue featured Brian from Family Guy mixing his favorite cocktails and a photo expose of “Hollywood's Best Bitchez!”.
“Yeah, real deep stuff” Brown said. “Explaining them to Sally was a bit awkward” he added, referring to his younger sister. “She kept asking why the little doggies were all sticking their bums up.”
For a long time now I've harbored a secret desire. One that I thought made me “different” or “mildly eccentric”. But I've come to the realization that we all chart different courses through this great maelstrom that is life, and have decided to suppress my natural desires no more. I want to swear like Colonel Potter.
Yes, that beloved fogey of the small, olive drab screen as played by our esteemed friend Harry Morgan. How I long for that man's mastery of the colorful simile, his conjuring of metaphors so beloved and folksy you can't help but smile at their hearing. Even if they are cleverly telling you where you can place your head, in opposition to all accepted anatomical teachings.
If you tell me a falsehood, I will argue your story “has more holes in it than mother’s truss”. And I will abandon the profane sailor's tongue I've grown over the years, adopting instead a scolding yet familial Potterific. Instead of lazily resorting to one of the four-letter standards, I will concoct such beloved gems as “Great St. Stephens!” and “Good gravy on the Mountaintop!” Or even “Heavenly horse manure!”, if the situation warrants such verbal excess.
And just imagine the ability to coin colorful new expressions implying fecal matter at the drop of a hat. You will no longer be full of crap, but rather of pelican pellets. Or nightingale nuggets. Or crocodile cookies. Or mouse muffins. How endearing to turn a crude expression into one that not only amuses but makes you vaguely hungry as well.
And this new world won't be limited to swearing, but could expand to the everyday mundane. From this day forth I shall never again call anyone on the phone, but instead “raise 'em on the horn”. Bathroom stops will be now known as “trips to the old governor's office” or “going on a bombing run”. No becomes “Negatori”, and yes translates to “You're darn tootin, greenhorn”! Great Neptune's Trident, there are more possibilities than fleas in a yard-full of aging bloodhounds!
At first my friends may be put off by my new Potterian persona. The first time someone asks if you're “one mule shy of a wagontrain” can throw you for a loop. But in the long run, I think they'll come around to my brand of word craft. I ask you, who can resist the adorable allure of a good barnyard aphorism? Or an ingenious turnip-based insult? No one with sense enough to appreciate the finer things in life I tell you.
So the next time you see me, be sure to ask about the weather. I'll be glad to tell you what type of animal will be raining from the sky, or how your toes will be reacting to the bite of the cold, or what the heat will be doing to your crotch. Chances are my reply will have more shine on it than a brand new penny.
WICHITA- American Express call center operator Sally Jamison was less than thrilled today to help resolve a billing issue for a cardholder returning from a three week vacation in the south of France. Coworkers report Ms. Jamison aged 20, expressed a sub-stellar attitude when verbally abused by a valued customer who discovered an erroneous extra charge on his statement. For some reason Ms. Jamison, was heard to sigh audibly when confirming that the duplicate $5.00 foreign transaction fee on Mr. Lambright’s American Express Black statement occurred on the 13th as a result of his purchase of six iPhones for each of his family members prior to their hot air balloon tour of the southern Alps.
Jamison went on to defend her English speaking skills to the client, choosing not to reveal she had run out of sick days for the year, and had to work in spite of being unable to hear from her left ear or speak for thirty seconds without a need to violently discharge phlegm. Ms. Jamison refrained from boring the patient cardholder with the fact that her illness was most likely the result of waiting for the bus in the rain, as the engine in her 1984 Corolla had recently spun a bearing. After erasing the fee and apologizing, Ms. Jamison was scarcely able to muster any excitement in reminding Mr. Lambright that he had accrued enough points for his choice of a 5-day Caribbean cruise or a jet ski.
Shortly after being hung up on, Ms. Jamison found little solace in the discovery that her Hot Pocket had been stolen from the break room freezer again.
Amid the celebrations and cries of relief resounding across America Tuesday night, the mood of two of its hardest working groups was more somber. Comedians and Repo-men have crossed the blue/white collar divide to band together, giving each other solace as they lament the rejection of the McCain/Palin ticket.
Comedians from John Stewart down to lowly, wannabe comedy bloggers are coming to grips with the fact that the next four years will be distinctly harder to poke fun at. “She was a gold mine, I had plans to put in a pool” says Archie White, a writer for Comedy Central. “We were gonna give it a Palin theme, with an Elitists Only end and a Real Americans Only end. So many opportunities lost forever. We had reams of material ready, enough to last us past Christmas at least.”
The loss of such guaranteed job security was echoed by Rodney Page, owner/proprietor of Page Auto Recovery in San Bernardino. “You might say I'm one of them, 'by-your-own-bootstraps' kind of fellas. People should be left to barely survive or utterly fail on their own. It's a system that's been workin' for me” said a smiling Page, gesturing to his new SuperDuty tow truck with dual DVD players and custom rims.
Page said he is considering expanding into home foreclosures or dog-catching to supplement his income should economic conditions improve too much. “People will always have it tough, least I hope so.”
Citing the need for reducing America's dependence on foreign oil and its mounting unemployment figures, presidential hopeful John McCain called for the return of hand-carried litters for the wealthy.
Once the primary means of urban transportation for the landed gentry, the hand litter grew out of fashion with such advancements as human dignity and Lincoln Town Cars.
Governor Palin has been traveling by litter for the past two months and says she loves it. "They've (Palin's bearers) got a hunger for success like the rest of us, why rob them of that opportunity? And you know, it's so much fun to just look out and see their little legs pumping. It reminds me of the dog sleds Todd and I get such a kick out of.”
Asked if he thought the carts demeaning to the carriers McCain fumed "Of course not! I love the four little Chinamen that carry my bulletproof cart! And there's no emissions, well usually not” he laughed, slapping one of the exhausted litter bearers on the back before stopping off for a final rally speech.
“Friends, through hard work our wealthier citizens have earned the ability to travel in style. If there are able-bodied folks out there willing to put in a little good old-fashioned elbow grease to get them from the airport to the Playboy club, what's the problem?”
In an embarrassing turn of events for local beagle and beloved cartoon character Snoopy, a hidden stash of Playbeagle magazines was discovered while cleaning out the pooch's doghouse for renovations.
