Art Kumbalek
So listen, leading off here, this: On the heels of Craig Counsell-out, Brewtown’s mostly beloved manager of a cheap-ass sort-of achieving baseball organization, leaving Our Town so’s to direct overpaid athletes from a Wrigley Field dugout 90 miles south down there by the “Windy City,” I can imagine that some weekly readers of “Art’s Sake” may have the heebie-jeebies as to my own future cum destination.
Don’t sweat it, that future is most likely to be short as I round third base headed for some-kind-of-home.
But yet, you may wonder, faithful followers, would I entertain as an offer from, say, the Chicago Reader 90-miles to the south, so’s to ply my wry in the City of Broad Shoulders for the financial bonanza of only forking over $10 bucks a week to get published rather than what I’m flipping out the wallet to show up here? I think not.
Professional dough is not an issue for a guy like me—never had it, never will, never offered. C’est la vie. God bless America.
Besides, Chicago sucks, ain’a?
Anyways, I apologize for talking about myself like a regular Trumpel-thinskin. But I would like to remind you’s that I could be your next United States president less than a year from now come the morning of Wednesday, November 6, 2024, given a bona fide vote from here and there legally-or-whatever acquired on the previous Tuesday, I kid you not.
And speaking of the Orange Circus Peanut, how ’bout these words he spewed during his Veterans Day speech the other day over there in New Hampshire: “The Granite State,” State Fruit: The Pumpkin (population 1.389 million, race/ethnicity I’m guessing—89.6%,white? Ding-ding-ding):
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This quoted from The Washington Post:
“We pledge to you that we will root out the communists, Marxists, fascists [break your mirror, DT?] and the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country that lie and steal [yup, the mirror is ferchacta] and cheat on elections,” Trump said toward the end of his speech, repeating his false claims that the 2020 election was stolen. “They’ll do anything, whether legally or illegally, to destroy America and to destroy the American Dream.”
Vermin? Whoa, Nellie. Is the Trumpty-Dumbty looking to be “president” again or would he prefer to be a bow-tied, white-shirted Terminix representative come to your door. Hey, you tell me.
And then I’ll tell you that perhaps if you’ve misplaced your book of Oxford Languages, here’s one of the top three definitions of vermin to put into your pipe for smoke:
people perceived as despicable and as causing problems for the rest of society
Oh, boy. Sounds like a definition of many a “neighbor” I’ve had over the years up here in my 4rth-floor dinky Downtown apartment.
But I’ll tell you, when/if I’m sitting in the Oval Office with my feet up on the desk whilst enjoying a nice Pall Mall Red as I got the peace of the world in my hip pocket, if a “vermin” alert came across my desk, the first thing I’d do is send my crack crew of radical-pest experts down to this Mar-a-Lago joint in Florida (Florida: Spanish for serial killer), and take care of business.
And who might that vermin be? Let’s check in with the former Republican New Jersey Governor Chris Christie with his take on “our” former “president”: “He’s a Liar, a Thief, a Cheater.”
You betcha.
But now, a blast from the recent past as I consider imaginary financial offers from who-knows-where for my reportorial expertise and schmutz:
Neanderthals were killed by sex.
Neanderthals died out because they had too much sex.
The primates were so attracted to homo sapiens that they stopped making love with their own kind and were ultimately wiped out by their own libido.
Hey, sign me up for this way to go, what the fock. “Killed by sex”? Sounds a lot more copacetic than “killed by shark attack,” “killed by electric chair,” “killed by serial killer,” “killed by rabid bat bite,” “killed by local police in errant drug bust,” “killed by lack of affordable health care,” “killed by starvation during some kind of years-long continental war,” “killed by unexpectedly plunging into the Grand Canyon from off a ledge whilst performing a failed selfie to impress friends with how cool you are,” “killed by guillotine,” “killed for questioning the cosmetic cut of Josef Stalin’s mustache,” “killed by a focking humongous asteroid,” “killed by a plague, be they Bubonic, Black Death or 21st Century American Republicans,” “killed by earthly climate change”—I could go on, but I’m thinking you get the picture, what the fock.
Here’s where you can find the article if you care to peruse:
msn.com/en-gb/entertainment/news/neanderthals-were-killed-by-sex/ar-AA13HdE2
Now, I can understand the condomless Mr. Neanderthal man’s attraction to the evolutionarily superior Homo sapien female of whom each and every one must’ve looked like a hotsy-totsy Marilyn Monroe. But I can’t explain any attraction the Homo sapien lady would have for the Neanderthal guy ’cause really, you ever seen any photos of those fellas? Yikes!
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All I can figure is that while the Homo sapien men were off together sipping herbal tea and discussing the finer points of the latest cave art, the neglected Homo sapien gal thought she might pass the time and take a walk on the wild side with one of the rough-and-tumble bad boys from the neighborhood, ain’a?
And all I can say about “Neanderthals Killed by Sex,” and etcetera, is to kind-of quote, “1 Corinthians,” out of that Bible book a lot of people have been talking about. So here:
Paul emphasizes here, again, that women and men are dependent on each other in the Lord. Neither gender is self-existent. Christianity rejects the independence of both men and women from each other, insisting that both need the other and both need the Lord. Neither gender is inferior, and neither is dispensable.
Thank you (Go raibh maith agat) readers, I’m not leaving this town until feet-first is the exit down the stairs out the door, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.