Tag Archives: truth
Nightcap 04/23/16

Nightcap 04/23/16

Excellent impulse buys! Plenty of off-brand lip balm sticks!

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Weagel Show ST #100

Weagel Show ST #100 – Record

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TRUE STORY

TRUE STORY

I lived in a county in northern Michigan where napkins were illegal. They weren’t allowed. Paper, cloth, decorated, or dirty, you could not use them or own them. I lived there for four years. It’s where I learned how to bend metal into shapes that satisfied me. Each and every meal was an ordeal. You either used your shirt or the tablecloth or you ate with the precision of one of those scientists who “paints” pictures on atoms. Ice Cream Socials were nightmares. And there were plenty of them. Every two weeks the county commission was throwing another Ice Cream Social in honor of some indian chief their daddies had murdered and you were pressured to make an appearance. There I was in August wearing two turtle-necks so I’d have plenty of sleeve to wipe on and they’d hand me a cone stacked high with that real cheap, soft ice cream with the chocolate stripe built-in sold in gallon drums at the Meijer Thrifty-Acre. “Chris, here’s another distinguished author we’d like you to meet.” It was a nightmare. Last I heard the state sold the county to a waste-removal firm and they turned the whole thing into a giant landfill for trash shipped in from Canada.

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Morning Constitutional 04/16/11

Morning Constitutional 04/16/11

They say he spoke Dinosaur. They say he fell asleep falling down the stairs. They say his heart was 15% bigger than a bison of comparable weight. They say he could lift entire municipalities, shake out all the bad and leave the good feeling better about being good. They say he breathed more oxygen than was necessary but he planned on returning it one day, in little glass bottles labeled with pen. They say he didn’t like numbers, didn’t trust their many curves. They say he once spoke to a river, learned its secrets. They say he admired bricks because they were pure. They say his friendship brought many rewards, chief among them access to a vast DVD collection including all nine seasons of Dallas and his discretion with your peculiar tastes. They say he put gravy on his cereal. V says, “The truth is, I’m actually a Blast Furnace.”

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Nightcap 04/02/11

Nightcap 04/02/11

What wisdom can I leave you with tonight? Recommendations for what type of hot dog condiment goes best with your facial moles? Or a reminder of the value large, leather straps have to bruisers and nuns alike? Perhaps a plea not to stand too close to the walls as we’ve just had them painted to cover the gouge and scratch marks from the family reunion? Ultimately, I can’t tell you anything. You’ll have to find your own way. You don’t listen to good sense anyhow, which is how you wound up with a room full of broken umbrellas and no man in your life. THIS IS NOT AN ADVICE COLUMN. PLEASE STOP SENDING ME BAKED GOODS.

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THIS SPACE INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK

THIS SPACE INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK

A lot of people think you have to highjack an ice cream truck to be happy in life. Most of them are right. For some, though, happiness is achieved by building an ever-enlarging bon fire of couches and end tables in your neighbor’s driveway.

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Nightcap 02/24/11

Nightcap 02/24/11

Today we learned the horrible news that the fifth and final playground in town had been burned to the ground. No one saw anything. It being winter, children are afraid to go near playgrounds for fear of disillusionment. They always want to believe the playground is a happy, fun place rather than the pile of cold metal, leftover wood parts and obscene plastic animal heads it is. So we can’t blame them. And it being the very depths of economic depression no one can afford to rebuild any of them. The rubble can’t even be cleared. So now residents show up dropping off their awkward, hard to classify garbage items. The lots are filling up with broken tropical fish tanks and waffle makers.

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WHAT IS IT ABOUT MARINE LIFE?

WHAT IS IT ABOUT MARINE LIFE?

EARLY LUNCH CONVERSATION STARTER What is it about Marine Life that enchants us so? The Whales and Shrimp and Penguins and Porpoises and Seals and Walruses and Star Fish and so on and so forth. What is it about them that makes men spends endless hours whittling away in their workshops on full life-size mechanical recreations – the kind that you have to wind up or get a neighbor to wind while you’re away – of these creatures so that we might be nearer to them without threat of losing an arm? Is it the cold, sure certainty of their starless-night dark eyes? The way they’re slippery without being slimy (unlike those horrible cave-dwelling albino rats)? Is it their mastery of latin dance? Whatever it is about these doleful, simple animals that keeps us returning to the shore year after year, their ability to guide, to inspire and to guide remains unmatched in the animal kingdom.

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