Art Kumbalek
I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? So listen, here I sit—achin’, not cured, as health-care payment specialists make extra room in their cash registers for me, what the fock. And then I got to tell you’s that the Packers’ play in their last couple, three games has made me feel the same way I do when a Republican wins an election, and that’s not good. Reminds me of a little story:
A man with no arms and no legs is out lying on the beach one day, enjoying his chance to get some sun. A beautiful woman walks by, stops and says, “You poor man, I’ll bet you’ve never been kissed, have you.” The man has to admit that no, he never has. The beautiful woman bends down and plants a tender kiss upon his lips.
A few minutes later, an even more beautiful woman walks up to our limbless sunbather and says, “You look like you could use a nice hug.” He agrees that he surely could use a nice hug, which she then sweetly administers, and walks away.
A while later, an absolute drop-dead gorgeous gal walks by. She stops, and with a sultry smile on her face, looks down at him and says, “Mister, have you ever been focked?” Displaying a hopeful grin, he says, “No. I have not.” And the drop-dead gorgeous gal, as she turns to walk away, says, “Well, you are now. The tide’s coming in.” Ba-ding!
But hey, I hear there’s a new James Bond movie at the theater. Truth be told, I always felt I could’ve been a hotsy-totsy, top-spook head honcho of the CIA. Cripes, I’ve seen all the 007 and spy movies and I do believe that would’ve been the life for me. I’m especially enamored with the “getting the girl in the end” part, and if not the end, hell, I’m sure I could work my way around to some other location, what the fock, which reminds me of a little story:
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M sends James Bond on a secret mission to heaven. When M doesn’t hear from Bond for more than a day, he gets worried and calls heaven. The Virgin Mary picks up the phone and says “Virgin Mary speaking.” M asks if Bond has arrived yet. She replies that he hasn’t.
M waits a few hours and calls heaven back. “Virgin Mary speaking,” comes the response. “Is James there yet?” M asks. Again the answer is no. So now M is really worried but she waits for a few more hours and then calls heaven again.
“Hello, this is Mary speaking…” Ba-ding!
As chief of the CI-focking-A, I’d recruit only the most dedicated candidates, the kind of top-secret players who’d leave it all on the field come “game on.” Witness:
The CIA had an opening for an assassin. After all the background checks, interviews and testing were done, three finalists emerged—two men and one woman. For the final test, the CIA agents took one of the men to a large metal door and handed him a gun.
“We must know that you will follow instructions no matter what the circumstances. Inside this room you will find your wife sitting in a chair. You have to kill her.” The first man said, “You can’t be serious. I could never shoot my wife.” The agent acknowledges that this is not the right man for the job.
The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. After nearly five minutes of silence, the man emerged, tears in his eyes and says, “I tried, but I can’t kill my wife.” And the agent replies, “You don’t have what it takes. Take your wife and go home.”
It was the woman’s turn, who was told to kill her husband. She took the gun and entered the room. Shots were heard, one after another, followed by screaming, crashing, loud banging. Then all was quiet. The door opened slowly. There stood the woman. She wiped the sweat from her brow and said, “You fockers didn’t tell me the gun was loaded with blanks; so I had to beat him to death with a curtain rod. Am I hired?” Ba-ding!
OK, one more story and then you can go since I will too:
A confident 007 walks into a bar and takes a seat next to a very attractive woman. He gives her a quick glance and casually looks at his watch. The woman notices and slyly inquires, “Is your date running late?” “No,” he replies, “I’m here alone. My research-and-development man has just given me this state-of-the-art watch and I was testing it.” Intrigued, the woman asks, “A state-of-the-art watch? What’s so special about it?”
007 explains: “It uses alpha waves to telepathically talk to me.” She breathlessly wants to know what the watch is telling him now, and he replies, “It says you’re not wearing any panties.” The woman smiles and says, “Well then, it must be broken because I am wearing panties.” 007 taps his watch twice and says, “Damn thing must be an hour fast.” Ba-ding! ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
