Art Kumbalek
I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So yeah, the current crop of Pulitzer Prizes got passed around the other week and wouldn’t you know, once again yours truly stands empty-handed, me-oh my-oh. But let me tell you’s, I never got into this racket, lo those many years ago, to be rich and famous, and so far I got to say that deal has been mucho simpatico, what the fock.
So anyways, I got to go and get ready for the Mother’s Day coming up, the day we celebrate the lady from whom we all traveled within so as to enter out into this world as we know it. And I’m guessing many Americans might not have the extra couple, three bucks so as to present mom with a bunch of flowers, box of candy, new doilies, brunch, Sunday afternoon trip to the zoo, evening at the nightclub featuring the Chippendales, what the fock. So how ’bout you present her with the gift of laughter on her special day?
Go for it. Here’s a couple, three little stories you can use no matter what the circumstance of your get-together be:
At a major medical convention a noted internist arose to announce that he had discovered a new miracle antibiotic. “What’s it cure?” a member of the audience asked. “Nothing we don’t already have a drug for,” the internist replied.
“Well then what’s so miraculous about it?” another asked. Internist said, “One of the side effects is short-term memory loss. Several of my patients have paid my bill three or four times.” Ba-ding!
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Or how ’bout this one:
So this little kid saunters into his parents’ bedroom one night and sees his mom on top of his pop bouncing up and down. The mom notices her son, quickly rolls over and covers herself, worried about what her son has seen. She dresses quickly and seeks to find him. The kid asks, “What were you and dad doing?”
Mother replies, “You know your dad has a big tummy and, well, sometimes I have to get on top of it to help flatten it.” The kid says, “You’re wasting your time, mom. Whenever you go out shopping, the lady next door comes over, gets on her knees and blows it right back up.” Oh, boy. Ba-ding!
And who doesn’t enjoy a “Mommy, Mommy!” zinger?
“Mommy, mommy! Why are we pushing the car off the cliff?”
“Shut up, you’ll wake your father.” Yikes. Ba-ding!
Yes sir, or how ’bout these chestnuts?
The child comes home from his first day at school. Mother asks, “What did you learn today?” The kid replies, “Not enough. I have to go back tomorrow.” Ba-ding!
So Grandpa’s driving with his third-grade granddaughter and beeps the horn by mistake. The little girl turns and looks at him and he says, “I did that by accident.” She says, “I know that, Grandpa.” He asks her how she knew and she says, “Because you didn't say ‘asshole!’ afterwards.” Ba-ding!
Here’s one you could share with mom along with a nice apéritif before dinner:
Little boy’s in the living room playing Amtrak with his new electric-train set. From the kitchen, the mom hears the train stop and her son say, “All you sons of bitches who want off, get the hell off now ’cause this is the last stop. All you fockers who are getting on, get your asses onboard ’cause we’re leaving.”
The mom can’t believe what she just heard, rushes into the living room and scolds her son, “We don’t use that kind of language in this house. Now go to your room for the next two hours and when you come back down, you can play with your train as long as you use proper language.”
Two hours later, the boy starts playing with his train again. From the kitchen, she hears the train stop and the boy say, “All passengers disembarking, please remember to take all your belongings. We thank you for riding with us and we hope your trip was a pleasant one. For those just boarding, please stow your hand luggage under the seat and enjoy your trip. For those of you pissed off about the two-hour delay, please see the focking bitch in the kitchen.” Ba-ding!
And don’t forget you can always spring for a nice riddle, such as: Why don’t Jewish mothers drink? Hey, ’cause alcohol interferes with their suffering.
Ba-ding! ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
