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Art Kumbalek

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, would you’s like some good news for a change? I thought that you would. How ’bout this for a headline from a news story I caught the other day:

US adult cigarette smoking rate hits new all-time low

The only way that headline could read better to my eyes, is if it had said this:

US cigarette prices hit new all-time low

Yeah yeah, I’m no economist, but the good news for me here is I figure that if the demand for a fine tobacco product drops, so will the price, and a guy like me can stand to save a buck any way he can, what the fock. Cripes, I can remember saying some years ago that if the price for a pack of squares goes up to 50-focking-cents, I’m quitting. Yeah, I said/promised a lot of things, years ago.

But today, I’m saying this: I know a lot of you’s are looking forwards to the summertime season coming up soon like a bad burrito, unlike yours truly who does not appreciate in the least this future time of year when if it’s not the heat, it’s the stupidity for crying out loud.

Be that as it may—June, July, August—I’d like to give you’s a little more good news, and so shall I provide you with a sneak preview of some of my blockhead-busting essays I’ll be delivering come summer on this screen/page in front of you. 

In fact, if I were you, I’d be bookmarking this page from out of your Shepherd Express, and prepare to camp there all summer long ’cause every week you’re going to want to be among the first to have experienced the highflying load of linguistic legerdemain I got lined up in store for you on summer’s shelves as soon as I think of it.

And more good news: You can still carry and enjoy all the Good & Plenty and ice-cold bottled beer you can stand when reading these upcoming essays ’cause why would I care, what the fock.

Guardian of the Fallacy—Part 3: Successful Marriage The feel-good, plenty-of unexplainable-action, laff-riot essay of the summer slated for a June release in time for the slew of matrimonial ceremonies that take place this month. There won’t be a dry eye or dry seat left in the house once you’s get done reading this one. For better or worse, a rhetorical question—“What are you, focking nuts?”—begs for the hearts and minds of the soon-to-be-damned. There’ll also be this memorable word-picture: 

A divorce court judge says, “Mr. Drax the Destroyer, I have reviewed this case very carefully and I’ve decided to give your wife $1,000 weekly.” Drax says, “That’s very fair your honor. And every now and then I’ll try to send her a buck two-eighty myself.” Ba-ding!

You betcha, I’ve been doing some research on the subject of marriage and discovered that the ancient Greeks were gosh darn familiar with the topic: a proverb says, “Marriage is the only evil that men pray for,” and then there’s this from some guy named Hipponax out of the 6th century B.C.: “Two days are the best of a man’s wedded life: The days when he marries and buries his wife.” Ouch! ain’a?

Starbucks Wars: Darth Loiter vs. Princess Barista: During a slow news week, I may expand my thoughts about the first guy maybe a couple, three, five-thousand years ago to discover coffee, when he got it into his head that it would be a grand idea to grind up some beans he happened to notice hanging off a tree somewheres, toss the ground-up stuff into some hot water and then drink this dredge just to see what the heck would happen. What the fock did people back then need a coffee buzz for, anyways. What, they were a little groggy in the morning from staying up too late with the TV or ’cause they were cramming for final exams? Yeah, I don’t think so, either.

Godzillionaire the Cannibal: Here’s a perennial staple. Batshit-crazy billionaires create a monstrous oligarchy that thrives by eating the poor. The number of uber-rich focks increase exponentially and wreak total destruction on a republic of democracy by not paying taxes and stashing profits offshore. Oh my!

Frozen Stiff: This one’s strictly for the youth in my reading audience so they got a little something to kill time with besides shoplifting. I’ll toss in a couple of lighthearted riddles: “How come Raggedy Ann got banned from the toy chest? Give up? ’Cause she kept sitting on Pinocchio’s face and saying, ‘Lie to me, lie to me, damn it!’” “What’s green and hangs from trees? Giraffe snot.” I’ll pass along some age-appropriate wisdom like, “Never, ever mix good booze with soda.” And I’ll wind it up with a fun essay question for which I’ll ask the katzenjammers to send their answers to me for some kind of bullshit prize: “Compare and contrast the Neolithic Revolution with the Counter-Reformation, and if you don’t cite your sources, you’ll never see your dog again.”

Captain Kumbalek: Religiosity War: Here, I get a bug up my butt but good that turns me into a crusading super-humanist who battles all forms of religious belief during the course of one helluva action-packed essay, I kid you not. Be you Muslim, Baptist, Buddhist, Catholic, Hindu, Aztec, Mormon, Deadhead, Pente-focking-costalist or Jehovah’s Witness, I’m kicking your fanatical fanny around the block and back. Possessed only with the powers of regular common sense and an ounce of compassion for his fellow creature, it’s one man’s attempt to set the world on a sane and just path as we leave all the various Lords, Lordettes and what-nots shrinking to nothingness in the history’s rear-ass mirror.

So there you go. All that’s left for me to do is to go bask in the bright lights of the Uptowner tavern/charm school and get down to work, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.