In Depends Days

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Art Kumbalek

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, as the COVID remains on the charts, month after month after month, as No. 1 with a bullet all across our specious skies of purply fruited mountains of majesties, I can’t help but paraphrase wordsmith and former president, George W. Bush: “Trumpie, you’re doing a heck of a job,” what the fock.

These days, I’ll tell you’s, when I sit down to peruse the news of our times, I always make sure I’m sporting the latest in adult diaperage, because I know I’m guaranteed to crap my pantaloons, and more than once, I kid you not.

Just read that the Rolling Stones (and is it just me, or does it indeed seem that Mick Jagger has recently acquired an uncanny resemblance to Katharine Hepburn in her later years?) have threatened to sue the Trump gang for using “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” as their wankfest theme music—a choice I’ve found puzzling. Certainly, that for a Trump hullaba-boogaloo event, the Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” or “19th Nervous Breakdown” would be more copacetic, ain’a?

And there’s a move underway out there in sunny Californica, to remove John “Duke” Wayne’s name and statue from the Orange County airport “because of racist and bigoted comments the film legend made.” Really, you say.

Yes sir, back in 1971, Mr. True Grit had this to say in a Playboy interview: “We can't all of a sudden get down on our knees and turn everything over to the leadership of the blacks. I believe in white supremacy until the blacks are educated to a point of responsibility. I don’t believe in giving authority and positions of leadership and judgment to irresponsible people… I don't feel guilty about the fact that five or 10 generations ago these people were slaves.”

And being an all-inclusive celluloid American hero, he has this for the Native Americans: “I don't feel we did wrong in taking this great country away from them, if that’s what you’re asking. Our so-called stealing of this country from them was just a matter of survival… There were great numbers of people who needed new land, and the Indians were selfishly trying to keep it for themselves.”

Cowabunga, Duke! How ’bout we not only cleanse his name from the airport and toss his statue into the nearest volcano, but we also modify his nickname—from “Duke” to “Douche Bag,” that’s what I’m talking about. Yes sir, Mr. Morrison, time for your legend to reap the wild wind of nowadays ’cause you and the like ilk are expendable, pilgrim.

And talk about pants-crapping stories, I’ve heard of the reports that the Red Russian Commies offered a bounty to the Taliban for the dead head of any American hero occupied with that forlorn and nonsensical Afghanian killer kerfuffle, and that President Orange Circus Peanut was apparently briefed, or to be briefed, on the situation but was too busy to pay attention, what with him being on the phone all the time, like an 8th-grade girl, with his dreamy boyfriend, Vladdy. What the fock.

One more thing, if you’re planning a trip to Yellowstone, take extra precaution with your social bison distancing. The other day, a 72-year-old gal, who got within 10-feet of one of these beasts so’s to get some nice wildlife snapshots, ended up getting gored but good. No word if she was masked.

So I asked myself, if I were ever in Yellowstone National Park (the chances of which are less than Sirhan Sirhan being elected U.S president in 2020), what would I know about buffaloes—besides that the difference between a lawyer and a herd of buffaloes is that the lawyer charges more? Not a goddamn thing. I thought I should do some research, so that the next time the North American bison came up as a topic of conversation I wouldn’t sound like a focking idiot. So I fired up my old computer, which I believe came over on the Mayflower, and found some information that I’d like to pass on to you so that the next time the North American bison comes up as a topic of conversation at the Zoom cocktail party, you don’t sound like a focking idiot.

A herd of buffalo can move only as fast as the slowest buffalo, and when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular culling of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, we all know, kills-off brain cells, but naturally it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, constantly making the brain a faster and more efficient machine.”

(And may I add a maintenance tip to help keep that brain humming along in topnotch condition: you add a nice bourbon sidecar or three to go along with your beers, I kid you not.)

Anyways, time to change my diaper-briefs so that I’m ready for the next load, and time to get my bottle rockets organized for my 4th of July blast-off. I’ve got Jim Beam, Early Times, Kentucky Tavern and I know Old Grand-Dad’s hanging around here somewheres. But to tell the truth, I like to make Independence Day each and every day of the year, god bless America, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.

To read past essays by Art Kumbalek, click here.