Character Issues

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Art Kumbalek

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, no time for an essay this week. On my docket is our annual Mother’s Day get-together for us fellas whose ma’s have gone to a better place, and by better place I don’t mean Vegas on a three-day junket or a bus tour of Branson; so I’m off to the Uptowner tavern/charm school, crammed at the corner of Hysteric Center Street & Humboldt. Come along if you’d like, but you buy the first round, what the fock.

Emil: You bet I watched the entire National Football League draft—all seven rounds. It took three days, and I didn’t hear my name called. What a focking waste of time that was, I tell you. I could’ve really used that football dough if I got drafted.

Herbie: Surprising. Must’ve been character issues that kept you off the board, ain’a?

Julius: More like idiot issues. Listen, Emil, if you need dough, get on the Internet like I do. That’s where the money is, and that’s where I ran into this Nigerian prince who has a million bucks for me if I can help him straighten out a little misunderstanding he’s having with a United States financial institution, the bastards. 

Herbie: You see in the papers that some kind of researchers with fossil records are saying the modern humans 100,000 years ago were porking the Neanderthals, who happened to be a different focking species?

Ray: A different species? Big focking deal. You ever been to Tijuana?

Little Jimmy Iodine: You kind of got to feel sorry for those Neanderthals. I don’t know much about them but I hear they were like the trailer trash of the human line of evolution, then one day all of a sudden they’re scoring some booty from some hot piece of new species and the next thing they know, they’re extinct.

Julius: Is it just me, or does it seem like that pro football draft is kind of sexist.

Herbie: What the fock are you talking about?

Julius: I watched all of that draft, too. All 253 selections, and like Emil didn’t hear his name, I never heard one gal’s name called by a team. You’d think in this day and age, at some point the commissioner would’ve come to the podium and said, “With the umpteenth pick in the draft, the Buffalo Bills select Misty Crockett, cheerleader from Florida State.”

Herbie: Makes sense. I hear it’s all in the measurables when it comes to the draft, ain’a?

Ray: And speaking of Neanderthals… 

Little Jimmy Iodine: Hey, Artie! Over here. Put a load on your keister.

Art: Hey gents, what do you hear, what do you know.

Julius: I hear there’s an opening coming up for on the state Supreme Court ’cause some knob is calling it quits. Pays almost $250 grand a year.

Art: Thanks for the tip. I’ll add that to my list of political offices I’m running for, you betcha.

Herbie: You got any experience with the gavel, Artie? 

Art: What the fock, I was nominated for Milwaukee County reserve juror duty the other year. I never did get called but I’m thinking that my willingness to serve, so as to dispense some hardline justice at the drop of a hat would have to impress the would-be voter.

Ray: You guys ever hear this one? So this judge is in his chambers addressing the opposing lawyers. “So gentlemen,” judge says, “I’ve been presented, by both of you, with a bribe.” Both lawyers start squirming. “The attorney for the defendant gave me $15,000, and the attorney for the plaintiff gave me $10,000.” The judge reaches into his pocket and pulls out a check. He hands it to the attorney for the defendant. Judge says, “Now then, I’m returning $5,000 and we’re going to decide this case solely on its merits.” Ba-ding!

Emil: Hey, how come Ernie’s not here yet?

Little Jimmy: His boss made him go to a motivational seminar.

Art: I went to one of those once. The only thing I learned from the star-studded gaggle of windbags they had as speakers is that it’s a lot more lucrative to bullshit about making a living than actually going out and earning one. I even thought of writing my own book that comes with a tape, CD and DVD about success called Art Kumbalek’s Tape, CD, DVD and Book for Any Low-Esteem Loser Stupid Enough to Buy One.

Herbie: You ever sell any of them, Artie?

Art: I did not, because I never got around to writing it. Sounded too much like work and I’ve always believed that work is just another tool that the ruling elite uses to keep the working man oppressed. That’s why I’ve devoted my life to running for president. People give you money, people write your speeches and advertisements for you, and all you got to do is show up somewheres when they tell you to and then lie your ass off.

Ray: God bless America.

(It’s getting late and I know you got to go, but thanks for letting us bend your ear, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.)