Art’s Holiday Ba-ding! Boutique

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Photo illustration: Dave Zylstra

Art Kumbalek

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen,here we go again. It’s that time of year I hear: Holiday tradition, what the fock.

And tradition suggests that I hope you had a past, pleasant, peaceful, Thanksgiving ordeal on your turkey platter at your assorted family gathering—but I’ll tell you’s, if you had the chutzpah to bare-knuckle a Trumpel-thinskin MAGA friendly aging baby-boomer uncle, aunt or twice-divorced fat-ass douchebag brother-in-law ’round about pumpkin- pie dessert time to the tune of a couple, three lost teeth, I say god bless America. 

My Thanksgiving Day? Thanks for asking. My buddy Little Jimmy Iodine brought over a nicely prepared ring baloney accompanied with a kind of baked potato and a slim package of frozen corn. We would be soon to dig in, I kid you not

But before we chowed-down (did I mention Jimmy also brought along a nice big-bowl full of Roundy’s apple sauce, to boot?) following repeated gulps from at least a gallon of sweet Kentucky Gentleman bourbon, I took the lead to express Thankful Thoughts and notions in respect to such a turkey of a holiday :

My Thankful List runs pretty much A to A—I’m thankful I never had to hear myself say, “But she told me she was 18, your honor. I swear.” And, “Hey, is that a shrunken head hanging from the string around the neck of the guy standing next to the guy who’s holding a blow gun to his lips?” And, “Wait. I thought you said the red ones were fatally poisonous.” And, “OK, so if I squeal like a pig just once, you promise you’ll give back my canoe paddle, right?” And I’m thankful so far, that I’m not serving hard time with no chance for parole. Yeah, that about does it, what the fock.

So yeah, tradition. Top of December, and you’ve yet to come up with two-rubbed nickels so’s to pay for the baby Jesus gifts you’d like to present your loved ones at the bottom of the month, oh boy.

What can you do? Black Friday and Cyber Monday have come and gone; besides, those shopping opportunities would cost dough, ain’a? So I’ll tell you’s what to do, and that is to browse Art’s Holiday Ba-ding! Boutique ’cause why not this year give everyone on your goddamn Christmas list the gift of laughter? This gift won’t cost you a focking dime and you can then use the money saved to spend on a big ol’ bottle of holiday cheer all for yourself and drown your seasonal depression like a bag of cats over the bridge.

What follows are a couple, three items that may interest you. Feel free to stroll around the page and choose whatever catches your eye.

Ned walks into the bedroom with a sheep under his arm and says: “Darling, this is the pig I have sex with when you have a headache.” His significant other is lying in bed and says: “I think you’ll find that’s a sheep, you focking idiot.” And Ned says: “And I think you’ll find I wasn’t talking to you.” Ba-ding!

And over here is something you may like:

Husband and wife have a big argument on the day of their 25th-wedding anniversary. Husband says, “When you die, I’m getting you a headstone that reads, ‘Here Lies My Wife—Cold as Ever.’” Wife says, “Fock you. When you die, I’m getting you a headstone that reads, ‘Here Lies My Husband—Stiff at Last.’” Ba-ding!

Here’s a nice stocking stuffer:

At a major medical convention a noted internist arose to announce that he had discovered a new miracle antibiotic.

“What does it cure?” a member of the audience asks.

“Nothing we don’t already have a drug for,” the internist replies.

“Then what’s so miraculous about it?”

Internist says, “One of the side effects is short-term memory loss. Several of my patients have paid my bill three or four times.” Ba-ding!

Perhaps you’d like to try this on, see if it still fits for the modern day:

So this gal walks into the local dry cleaners. She places a garment on the counter and mumbles, “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon to pick up my dress.” The clerk, cupping his ear says, “Come again?” And the gal says, “No. This time it’s mayonnaise.” Ba-ding!

And here’s one for you’s who acknowledge the religiosity of the Yuletide:

A simple shepherd said to Mary after the birth of the Christ child and all the hoopla with the three wise men had died down. He said unto her, “Don’t you think that instead of all this promo about ‘Gloria in excelsis Deo’ etcetera, how about instead a nice simple ‘Season’s Greetings’?” And Mary said unto him, “What, my son has come to Earth to deliver the message, ‘Hello, it’s winter’? You can kiss my virgin ass and focking forget about it.” Ba-ding!

Okey-dokey, time to close-up shop. Hope you found something you liked, you cheap bastards. But just so you’s know, Art’s Holiday Ba-ding! Boutique will periodically be open for business during the lengthy festive season now upon us. I’ll keep you posted, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.