Yes, I know some are disappointed thatthe guy who’d guess your age and weight won’t be there this yearbutreally, when the only guess for the weight category is “too fat for me,” howentertaining is that really? However, I do think the new guy who will try toguess the number of consecutive consonants in your last name will be a strongaddition to the festivities, what the fock.
Anyways, I was going through my mailthe other day, something I force myself to do about once every six months, andI came across the following letter:
Dear Mr. Kumbalek, I amthe father of a very sweet daughter, Lucy, who just turned 7. Sadly, a week agoshe went out into the garden and saw her cat Mittens lying on the ground, eyesshut and legs in the air. She got me to come look at Mittens, and as gently asI could, I said, “I'm afraid Mittens is dead, Lucy.” Fighting back the tears,she asked, “So why are his legs sticking up in the air like that, Daddy?”
At a loss for somethingto say, I replied, “Mittens’ legs are pointing straight up in the air so thatit will be easier for Jesus to float down from heaven above, grab a leg andlift Mittens up to heaven.”
It seemed to me that shetook Mittens’ death quite well. However, two days later, I came home from workand Lucy had tears in her eyes. She said: “Mommy almost died this morning.”Fearing something terrible had happened, I grabbed her by the shoulders andsaid, “How do you mean, Lucy? Tell Daddy!”
“Well,” she stammered,“soon after you left for work this morning, I saw Mommy lying on the floor withher legs in the air and she was saying in a loud voice, ‘Oh Jesus!!! I'mcoming, I'm coming!!!’ and if it hadn't been for Uncle Mike holding her downshe would definitely have gone, Daddy!”
Good lord, are theregrounds for divorce here?
Down-in-Dumps Daddy
And what I can tell“Daddy” (I’m hoping he’s reading this ’cause I’ll be damned that I’ll take thetime to mail back a reply) is this: You not only got the “grounds,” you got thewhole pot of coffee. Just remember, there’s always two sides to divorceyoursand fockhead’s.
Hey, since I’ve got the advice-ballrolling here, for those of you’s wondering if you should have those extracouple, three beers whilst attending this festival or that, I offer ascientifically medical-research statement that I found on the Interwebnetsomewheres:
“A herd of buffalo can move only asfast as the slowest buffalo, and when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest andweakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is goodfor the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the wholegroup keeps improving by the regular culling of the weakest members.
(And here’s the important part): Inmuch the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowestbrain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, we all know, kills off brain cells,but naturally it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In thisway, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, constantlymaking the brain a faster and more efficient machine.” Now that’s what Icall real news a Milwaukeean can use, ain’a?
One more thing, I’ve been feeling thetime-passing urge of late to make out a will. What the fock, any day I could berun over and killed whilst crossing my Downtown street by a young white galyakking on her cell phone whilst maneuvering the brand-new Mustang proud NorthShore Pop got her for nearly completing her course-work at the cosmetologycollege. What would become of my hat/cap; my Louis Prima cassette recording, Louisand Keely!; my VHS recorded-movie collection? You tell me.
And then I’ll tell you that wherethere’s life, there’s hope. I had this dream:
Three people die accidentally on thesame daya doctor, a teacher and meandfind themselves at Heaven’s Pearly Gates. Before able to enter, St. Peter askseach a question: “When you are in your burial casket and friends and familyhover above in mourning, what would you like to hear them say?”
First guy answers: “I would like tohear them say that I was a caring doctor and family man.” Second guy says,“That I was a wonderful husband and schoolteacher who made a positivedifference in the lives of those I taught.”
And the third guy (yours truly) says,“What the fock, I’d like them to all say… ‘HEY, WAIT A SECOND! LOOK!!! I THINKTHE FOCKER’S STILL BREATHING!!!’”
Got to go. But since again this year Iwas not asked to deliver a commencement address anywheres (go figure), I stillgot this for you’s young people of any and all age: Never dig a hole too deepthat you can’t get out, and brush your teeth and stay in school what the fock,’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
