Art Kumbalek
I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? You know, what with these despotic days we’re having in the Land of the Free, sometimes a guy or gal really has to take a break from watching the news, reading the news, listening to the news, thinking about the news. And so the other night I drifted on the ocean of channels flooding my TV and landed on reruns of the late ’60s numero uno hit, “Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In.” And later, I dreamt about it. It went something like this:
A man and his dog are shipwrecked on a deserted island. After a few days he decides to reconnoiter the island. He discovers that the only other inhabitants are sheep. He recalls how his farm buddies would brag how they would screw sheep for kicks and he says to himself: “I’ll never be that desperate.”
Sooooo, a few weeks pass and he can’t get those sheep out of his mind, so soon he’s sneaking up on the flock. Just as he’s about to pounce on a really cute one, his dog grabs his leg and won’t let go. He snaps to, and thanks the dog for keeping him from making a fool of himself. This same scene happens every night for a month and the guy is really getting pissed at the dog.
Suddenly one day, the man spies a life raft bobbing in the surf. In the raft is a beautiful young girl near death. He takes her back to his hut revives her and nurses her to health. After a few days the girl is feeling fine, and that evening a rush of gratitude sweeps over her.
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She confronts the man: “I owe you my life. I’m yours forever. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Anything!!”
And the guy says, “OK, hold that dog for ten minutes!” Ba-ding!
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Two old friends meet each other on the street. The one says to the other, “What brings you my way today, after so long?” The other says, “I’m coming from the cemetery. I just buried my mother-in-law.” The one says, “I’m sorry to hear the news. But why is your face scratched all over?” And the other says, “The burial was difficult. She put up a hell of a fight.” Ba-ding!
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Four retired guys are walking down a street in Sun City, Ariz. They turn a corner and see a sign that says “Old Timer’s Bar: ALL DRINKS 10 CENTS!” So they go inside, and the old bartender says in a voice that carries across the room, “Come on in and let me pour one for you! What’ll it be, gentlemen?”
The bar seems to be fully stocked, so the men all ask for a martini. In short order, the bartender serves up four iced martinis—shaken not stirred—and says, “That’ll be 10 cents each, please.”
The four men can’t believe their good luck. They pay the 40 cents, finish their martinis, and order another round. Again, four excellent martinis are produced and the bartender says, “That’s 40 more cents, gents.” They pay up but their curiosity is more than they can stand. They’ve each had two martinis, and so far spent less than a dollar. One of the men says, “How can you afford to serve martinis as good as these for a dime apiece?”
Bartender says, “Here’s my story. I’m a retired tailor from Brooklyn, and I always wanted to own a bar. Last year I hit the lottery for $50 million and decided to open this place. Every drink costs a dime—wine, liquor, beer, all the same.”
The four men sipped their martinis and couldn’t help but notice three other guys at the end of the bar who didn’t have a drink in front of them, and hadn’t ordered anything the whole time they were there. One man gestures at the three without drinks and asks the bartender, “What’s up with them?” Bartender says, “They’re from Wisconsin. They’re waiting for happy hour.” Ba-ding!
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So this teacher walks to the blackboard one day and notices someone had written the word “penis” in tiny letters. She turns to the class, scans the faces for a guilty one, no such luck, so she quickly erases the highly offensive word and begins class.
Next day, teacher walks into class and notices in larger letters this time, that word “penis” on the blackboard again. She looks around the classroom for the culprit unsuccessfully, so erases the word and begins another butt-boring lesson. And every day for a week, teacher sees the same word on the blackboard, written larger than the day before. Her prosecutorial efforts remain constant.
Finally comes the day the teacher enters but instead of seeing “penis” on the blackboard, reads the following, “Hey Teach’, lesson for the day: The more you rub it, the bigger it gets.” Ba-ding!
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Say good night, Artie. “Good night, Artie” ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
