My Little Jester

So, today I had to take the day off in order to have my availability fully open to pick up Hanz from the local Renaissance festival in “Browne’s Addition.” He was very adamant about going to said festival and of course Hanz has yet to receive his driver’s license or learner’s permit even though I’ve practically thrown the DOL guide at him for months now. Inevitably I just piss off a ferret who already has anger issues and is the size of a primordial skunk. More often than not I get a pissed soaked, shredded DOL guide discretely hidden amongst my items…usually in my sock drawer or if I particularly make him angry in my lunch bag for work…

Nevertheless, in my slight fear of my ferret I ended up spending my Sunday waiting for a cell phone call with a picture of a ferret in a jester’s cap to pop up on my cell phone screen.

Mopey Ferret Dance in a War Dance

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After many wasted hours with my friend Mr. Mario, a couple of Cajun Top-Ramens, and a pint of my gorilla’s homemade beer from his closet of solitude distillery I ramshackle my way out to my ’93 protegé Johnny and sauntered my ass up to Coeur d’Alene park to pick Hanz from his afternoon of ye old jestering. Before I even reached the fringe of the park I see an angry mob of ye old peasants chasing after a tan ferret clutching his jester hat with a sad but still attached tail tucked between his well toned ferret buttocks. As I coasted by in 2nd, I reached over, popped open the passenger door, and a scared but fully aware ferret clawed his way in, slammed his door, and pulled his lap belt over his jester cod piece and plummage.

I tried asking him what had happen, but all I could gather between his labor breaths were the phrases, “bosomed wench” and “bad idea.”

I’m sure he’ll tell me once I loosen him up with a keg or two of malicious gorilla’s fine home spun brew, but till then only mopey ferret’s fellow renaissance patrons and a letter from the courts will know what happened that fateful Sunday afternoon….

Zoom, Zoom

A blurb and a half expressed through exquisite prose is more charitable than a quarter minute with any lackey with a third of a brain and even less in his pint.

As I sit upon my throne looking upon the waves and oceans of the past…my mind lingers at the point of no return pondering what the meaning of time and space really means when man has fallen so far past the precipice of ignorance that even stupidity is blissful when compared to the truth.  Not only do the urchins of the H2O pools of polluted solitude know more than the ‘wealth’ of human knowledge, but they hold more true to their species than even the most determined and hopeful of us. 

Does this equate to dispair….nah…this only provides humanity with the ‘uumph,’ the driving nail, and the ‘zoom, zoom’ to further our intellect into era which not only does life and prosperity hold true and steady, but the mere idea of the intangible wasps of our impregnable magnitude actually exceeds itself and becomes reality.

Are we evil?  Yes.

Are we good?  Yes.

There are those of us that would send humanity to the grave just to see it haphazardly plunder into a six-foot shaft filled mud and muck at the thought of a quickie with Mr. Benjamin, but as the proverbial coin strikes the hot asphalt a spark strikes and an individual, a glimmer, a person saves another and brings us another notch closer to our friends in the sea.

Quick asking whether we’re good or evil, or whether we should or shouldn’t…ask yourself this: When?  When will humanity find its footing and shed its ignorance, stupidity, and hate, and embrace intellect, reason, and morality?

So, as I sit here atop a hill, upon my throne, wondering about the numerous mysterious of life upon this chilly evening I know that time only crawls because I wish it to and that time only speeds when I wish it to…the subconcious is a mysterious fellow.  And, a strange bed fellow at that.

My kingdom is safe…as is the sea.

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Everyone seems to want to hop on the current bandwagon entitled the “demise of America.”  Yet, no one seems to want to fix the problems resulting in this unfortunate predicament…maybe we should, and then maybe we can start referring to the bandwagon as the “slight dip in America, but then soon after, subsequent rise of America.”

…yes, the new catchphrase of your local and national bandwagon is more lengthy, but it has a good ring to it.

I fully blame the trickle down economic theory and deregulation of our business sector here within the States starting with the Reagan administration.

And, honestly if you disagree odds are your older and from a generation or two past my own, and you’re partially responsible for this mess!  You have waived your right to disagree because I along with my fellow peers get to pay for your mess!  We get the wonderful opportunity to pay off your debit, the previous generation’s debit, and now have absolutely no chance to retire…thank you so very much Reagan and both Bushs…you’ve sucked the second half of my life into oblivion while you get to sit in Crawford drinking crap whiskey and twiddling your banjo with the rest of the idiots in your clan…brav..fuckin’…o…

I have a week old pineapple with a face carved into it that could have handled an eight year presidency better than you Mr. Bush…how does that feel?  As an aside he also has a similar IQ.

Nevertheless, for me my future doesn’t change I never planned on retiring anyhow, but why has the choice to do so been revoked?  The answer is simple:  America had greedy people backing our economy and government for over twenty-years, and now that’s it’s all fallen away my generation and my parent’s generation gets to pick up the pieces. 

However, I believe that all is not lost.  If Germany can repay the entire debt of World War I within twenty-years, America can fix the global economy and arise like a phoenix within another twenty.

So, folks don’t get discouraged or upset by our current predicament…get even!  Show your parents and/or grandparents how it’s done, and fix the problem and surge America forward into a new era of peace and prosperity. 

Mopey Ferret Dance in a War Dance

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I know I’ll be doing my part…how about you?

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As mopey the ferret sits in the waiting room reading the latest issue of Cosmo waiting to be checked for any sort bacterial leftovers via Barb the Comcast hooker…he thinks to himself…I wonder what the gorilla is doing this lovely Spojakistani afternoon?

Flash forward not in time, but in place to the closet of solitude and the malicious gorilla is thinking to himself…how the fuck do I get out of here!?

As Hanz gets into his hospital gown his hairy yet toned cheeks feel a slight breeze and he instantly starts hoping around in a festive but natural war dance about the hospital room.  The camera attended by the lonely yet curious security guard zooms in on the ferret’s exposed cheeks wondering why he is so lonely and intrigued by a ferret’s buttocks.

My Stoic and Downtrodden Gorilla

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The gorilla sits in silence pondering the many mysteries of life…how did we get here, why are we here, and is there life elsewhere in the universe?

Mopey Ferret Dance in a War Dance

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As the orderly fondles the particulars of the mopey ferret the hospital staff member also wonders why am I touching a ferret?  And, even though I’ve been through numerous medical courses can I contract crabs via prostate exam?

All of these stories are intertwined with one another and their immediate destiny, but whose will be lead the future of the human race to glory?

Find out on our next radio serial…on October 8th!

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