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Getty Images - elf by LightFieldStudios; snow by AlexeyVS

Art Kumbalek elf on sled

I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, it’s that time of year I hear, a time like no other to wish for peace, goodwill toward all, and for President-elect Donald Trumpel-thinskin to choke out on one of those Buffalo wild wings or Big Mac, staples of his “very stable-genius” Trumpian diet; so I’ve heard.

Yeah yeah, my “goodwill” quotient is less than zero come this holiday 2024 season, I kid you not.

But given my condition of elder age and soon-to-be expensive health schmutz as soon as I get the bill$ in the mail, allow me to offer you’s a little story:

Two doctors and an HMO multi-millionaire hotshot died and so lined up at the pearly gates for admission to heaven. St. Peter asked them to identify themselves. 

A doctor stepped forward and said, “I was a pediatric spine surgeon and helped kids overcome their deformities.” St. Peter said, “You may enter.” 

The second doctor said, “I was a psychiatrist. I helped people rehabilitate themselves.” St. Peter also invited him in. The third applicant stepped forward and said, “I was an HMO big chief. I helped people get cost-effective health care, I think.” St. Peter said, “Enter.” 

But as the HMO honcho walked by, St. Peter added, “You sir, can stay two full days, and then we’ll need to release you, thereafter you may go to Hell.” Ba-ding!

Too soon? I wish.

Anyways, as a civil citizen of these United States (yeah, I got a birth certificate to prove it to boot, somewheres in a drawer, a folder, but if any of you Fox News leggy lady couch pundits would like to drop by my dinky digs to help me locate it so’s to prove I’m legal to vote, you’re welcome to come by for the search, provided you bring the Riverwest Stein six-pack, a gallon of Early Times and a maybe a condom or three.)

And so we shall continue, what the fock.

I hypothesize that a whole bunch of you’s are likely struck dumb by your Christmas holiday gifting obligations, as in, “What should I get who-and-who and which lottery game should I enter so I can win and pay for it.”

I suggest giving all on your list the gift of laughter, this year and every year, ’cause it’s a gift that won’t cost you a focking dime. So I’ve decided to reopen Art’s Ba-ding! Boutique, what the fock. What follows are a couple, three items that may interest you. Feel free to stroll around the page and choose whatever catches your eye.

Here’s one for you to try on that’s got a little religious flavor to it—always tasty what with all the baby Jesus-hoopla lathered onto the Yuletide:

So this church minister dies and finds himself waiting in line outside the Pearly Gates. Ahead of him is this guy wearing jeans, leather jacket, sunglasses and he’s got one of those Mohawk haircuts. And Saint Peter asks the guy, “Who are you, so that I may know whether or not to admit you to the Kingdom of Heaven?”

The guy says to Saint Peter, “You talking to me? Are you talking to me?” St. Pete says that indeed he is. And the guy says, “Listen, I’m Travis Bickle. Taxi driver. New York City. Listen you fockers, you screwheads. Like I said, here’s a man who would not take it anymore. A man who stood up against the scum, the cunts, the dogs, the filth, the shit, here is someone who stood up.”

Saint Peter consults his list and says to taxi-driver Bickle, “Take this silken robe and golden staff my son, and enter the Kingdom.”

So now it’s the minister’s turn. He stands erect, clears his throat, and with a stentorian boom-of-a-voice, pronounces, “I am James Dobnobson, pastor of the All Clean and Righteous Family Saints On High mega-church for the last 43 years.” Saint Pete checks his list, frowns, and says to the minister, “Yeah, OK, you’re in I guess, but here, you take this cotton robe and wooden staff.” Minister says, “Just a minute, there must be some mistake. The man before me was nothing but a taxi driver, and he receives a silken robe and golden staff. How can this be?”

And St. Peter says, “This is Heaven, sir. Up here, we judge by results. And so I will tell you that while you preached, people slept; and while he drove, people prayed.” Ba-ding!

And how ’bout this:

Three friends die in a car crash and find themselves at the Pearly Gates of Heaven. Before entering, they’re each asked a question by St. Peter: “When you are in your casket and friends and family are mourning, what would you like to hear them say about you?” 

First guy answers, “I would like to hear them say that I was a great doctor and great family man.” Second guy answers, “I wouldmerrry whatever like to hear that I was a wonderful husband and school teacher who made a huge difference in the lives of children.”

And the last guy (me) says, “I sure as heck would like to hear them all say... LOOK!!! THE FOCKER’S MOVING!!!” Ba-ding!

Okey-dokey, got to close up shop. Hope you found something you liked, you cheap bastards, merry whatever, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.