One Hump or Two?

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Art Kumbalek

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? First off, a big “thank you very kindly” goes out to the artist I know as Ingrid Mae for the fabulous card she sent me expressing her generous and bona fide support for both my presidential candidacy and taste for bourbon. I do so appreciate it, I kid you not.

And speaking of my run to the presidency and bourbon, I got to cut the essay this week so’s better to meet with my campaign brain trust to figure out why I’m not even showing up in the polls, what the fock. So I’m off to confab with my advice-aholics over by the Uptowner tavern/charm school majestically crammed onto the corner of wistfully hysteric Humboldt Boulevard and the fabled Center Street. Tag along if you like, but you cover the first round. Let’s get going.

Emil: No, I don’t have any guns. But if I went out for the conceal-and-carry, I’d get two guns. That way if I get held up by gunpoint from behind and the focking robbers take my gun, hey, I still got another one I can whip out and blow away those bad characters.

Ray: Charley Bronson, rest in peace.

Ernie: Aren’t you supposed to get some kind of official training after you first buy a gun?

Emil: Official training, what the fock, like I never watched a cop show on TV? It’s insulting.

Herbie: Anybody know if our gun-totin’ law includes rifles? I wouldn’t mind packing a Winchester on my Downtown daily constitutional and picking off a couple, three of these garbage-ass sea gulls disturbing my peace and crapping anywhere and everywhere all the time.

Little Jimmy Iodine: I use to be against everybody having guns, but now I’m thinking I ought to have one for protection when the Republicans come to my door to replace my Medicare with a ticket for a foot massage and free cup of yogurt, just so some rich asshole can buy a new yacht.

Ray: “Listen punk, you can have my Medicare when you pry it from my cold, dead hands.”

Julius: The lengths some of these politicians will go to avoid laying a fair tax on the more-often-than-not undeservedly rich focksticks, ain’a? I heard of a plan to “save Social Security.” It’s a deal where parents could sell the “naming rights” of their kids to participating big businesses. The dough the parents get paid would go directly into a “personal account” that would get invested into the stocks of the companies their kids are named after. So, your Jason could become “Pfizer,” your Jennifer is now “Pampers,” and the bun-in-the-oven will be “WD-40” no matter the sex. You got twins? “Procter” and “Gamble” sounds kind of nice, ain’a?

Ray: That reminds me of a little story: 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.”

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

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

Ernie: I know I was down by Polish Fest on Father’s Day, but I couldn’t find the booth with the guy who’d guess the number of consecutive consonants in your last name.

Julius: And I hear Herbie wants to start a one-man Downtown seagull removal program.

Ernie: Maybe we could send a big focking bunch of these seagulls to some city that doesn’t have any ’cause they don’t have any big water body. And they don’t have to send us anything in return.

Herbie: What the hell kind of deal is that—you don’t get anything back? Trump would never make a deal like that.

Emil: Trump’s a shrewd dealer, I hear. If he were our town’s mayor, he’d send a couple truckloads of seagulls to some town in the Sahara trying to attract tourists, and in return he’d get a bunch of camels. That would be good for the tourists who come to Milwaukee—if instead of too many goddamn seagulls, we had a bunch of camels roaming around that the tourist could hop on anytime and take a ride past all the hotspots.

Little Jimmy: A bunch of camels can’t cost more than a streetcar, ain’a?

Emil: I don’t think any other American city has a bunch of camels, outside their zoo, that the people could make use of. We could even put a camel on our new city flag.

Ray: Make our flag great again.

Julius: I’ve seen a copy of that new flag, the one with a kind of “rising sun” on it? What the fock, the first thing I thought of is we ought to organize and mount a sneak attack on, say, Chicago, ain’a?

(Hey, it’s getting late but thanks for letting us bend your ear, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek, and I told you so.)