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I'm Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain'a? So listen, turns out I'm a little short on time to whip out a big-time essay on account of the fact that the Pick 'n Save grocery stores launched a Monopoly game hullabaloo with practically $3 million in prizes, and I aim to nab every single dollar. So I've been marching up to my local Picker about every 35 minutes 'round the clock to purchase a package of chewing gum or delicious Hostess Twinkies so's to score another game ticket. As any loser knows, you can't win if you don't play, what the fock.
Hey, given my contest-lottery luck, if you don't see me on this page next week you can bet your buck two-eighty that my short-pack of Kraft individually wrapped American cheese singles rewarded a Go Directly to Jail ticket, thanks for shopping.
And to honor a request from my readers Valerie, Fred and Mike down there in Ray-seen—“Gateway to Franksville”—Wisconsin, fewer essay words may afford such a typeface that you don't need to use the goddamn Hubble telescope to read. We'll see.
So this: I read the other day that the New York state Legislature just might pass a bill allowing same-sex marriage to be law. Fine. Swell. Hunky-dory. But I'll ask you's, don't you think it's time that our ultraconservative Supreme Court do something about the already-inherent weakness of the man-woman marriage? Yes sir, I'm talking about same-old sex. I don't know exactly what the fock it is they could do because I'm no judge. But you'd just think there must be some kind of ruling or tort they could slap down on same-old sex before our revered cohabitational institution is divorced from the fabric of our society, ain'a?
In fact, let me present to you a couple, three same-old sex cases I'd offer the court as evidence of the egregious nature of this predicament:
Hey, given my contest-lottery luck, if you don't see me on this page next week you can bet your buck two-eighty that my short-pack of Kraft individually wrapped American cheese singles rewarded a Go Directly to Jail ticket, thanks for shopping.
And to honor a request from my readers Valerie, Fred and Mike down there in Ray-seen—“Gateway to Franksville”—Wisconsin, fewer essay words may afford such a typeface that you don't need to use the goddamn Hubble telescope to read. We'll see.
So this: I read the other day that the New York state Legislature just might pass a bill allowing same-sex marriage to be law. Fine. Swell. Hunky-dory. But I'll ask you's, don't you think it's time that our ultraconservative Supreme Court do something about the already-inherent weakness of the man-woman marriage? Yes sir, I'm talking about same-old sex. I don't know exactly what the fock it is they could do because I'm no judge. But you'd just think there must be some kind of ruling or tort they could slap down on same-old sex before our revered cohabitational institution is divorced from the fabric of our society, ain'a?
In fact, let me present to you a couple, three same-old sex cases I'd offer the court as evidence of the egregious nature of this predicament:
- Two married guys are having a beer and one says, “So, how's your sex life?” Other guy says, “Nothing special. I'm having Social Security sex.” First guy says, “What the fock is Social Security sex?” Second guy says, “You know: I get a little each month, but not enough to live on.”
- A wife goes to see a therapist and says, “I've got a big problem, doctor. Every time we're in bed and my husband has the climax, he lets out this ear-splitting yell.” Therapist says, “My dear, that's completely natural. I don't see what the problem is.” The wife says, “The problem is this, doctor: It wakes me up!”
- This guy was in a terrible accident, and his “manhood” got mangled and torn from his body, for which he got a nice settlement from the insurance company. So he goes to see his doctor, who assures him that modern medicine could give him back his manhood, and that the cost would be $3,500 for “small,” $6,500 for “medium,” and $14,000 for “large.” The guy was sure he'd want a medium or large, but the doctor urged him to talk it over with his wife before he made any decision.
- So the guy calls the wife on the phone and explained their options. The doctor came back into the room and found the man looking like he just lost his best friend. Doctor says, “Well sir, what have you and the wife decided?” And the guy says, “She'd rather use the money to remodel the kitchen.”
Ba-ding-a-ding-ding!
So there you go. And now I'm off back to the store for a nice ring baloney and another Monopoly game ticket. A little later I'll go pick up a loaf of Wonder Bread, so I got something good to go with it. Yeah yeah, I might eventually be a multimillionaire in prizes, but it's never too soon to eat like a king, I kid you not, 'cause I'm Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
