Hard shell tacos

Posted on January 25, 2017 by PMcG

Hackers have leaked a TOP SECRET transcript between a noted psychobabylonian and the POTUS. If you read it, expect a visit from the FBI.

Dr. Pepperoncini: You have come to Pepperoncini because you have a problem.
POTUS: You are such a liar. You are such a liar. I don’t have a problem. You know who has a problem? I don’t have a problem. You have a problem.

Dr. Pepperoncini: Me?
POTUS: And you’d better solve it right away or do you know what’s going to happen?

Dr. Pepperoncini: You’re going to leave without paying?
POTUS: I’m calling Putin.

Dr. Pepperoncini: Hmm. Did your mother not hug you when you were a little boy?
POTUS: That is a media lie. I was never a little boy. I was always a big boy. A lovely child. Very lovely. One of the loveliest ever.

Dr. Pepperoncini: With big hair.
POTUS: Lovely big hair. Lovely. And yes, I got hugs. I got so many hugs, I got more hugs than any big boy ever. Look it up in the Guinness Book of Stout.

Dr. Pepperoncini: Why have you come to see Pepperoncini?
POTUS: Because the carnage needs to stop. Right here. Right now.

Dr. Pepperoncini: What carnage?
POTUS: Putin could tell you about carnage. He could tell you about carnage. Lovely carnage. Unbelievable carnage.

Dr. Pepperoncini: But you are not this…Putin?
POTUS: Another media lie. I am not Putin. I am not Putin. You know how you can tell the difference between Putin and me?

Dr. Pepperoncini: He doesn’t repeat himself so much?
POTUS: I’m wearing a shirt.

Dr. Pepperoncini: Ah.
POTUS: It’s a beautiful shirt. A very beautiful shirt. I made this shirt. No lie. I don’t lie. This very shirt. Last night. Very beautiful.

Dr. Pepperoncini: And this Putin. He has no shirt?
POTUS: Another media lie. Such a big lie. He has a horse. A brownish horse. So brownish.

Dr. Pepperoncini: And do you have a horse?
POTUS: If I wanted a horse I could snap my fingers and I would have a horse standing right here. Now. In this room. Don’t worry, I’d have a man with a broom, just in case… And it would be an expensive broom. Very expensive. I am wealthy, you know. Very wealthy. So wealthy.

Dr. Pepperoncini: And this man with the broom. Would he have health insurance?
POTUS: His state would get a block grant and if they wanted him to have insurance, he’d have insurance. Beautiful insurance. So much insurance. And don’t forget: a very nice broom. Very.

Dr. Pepperoncini: So how will you solve your problem?
POTUS: I’m issuing a new decree to be heard in every city, in every foreign capital and in every hall of power. From this day forward, a new vision will govern our land. My vision. And I have a very good vision plan. Because I’m wealthy. Very wealthy.

Dr. Pepperoncini: I see our time is almost up.
POTUS: That’s a media lie. The media are the most dishonest people on earth. Nothing but lies. Beautiful lies. Their latest lie: The polar bears are getting heat rash. Iceland is changing it’s name to Arizonadottir. Next year’s summer Olympics will be in Antarctica. I don’t make this stuff up. I don’t need to. I’m wealthy.

Dr. Pepperoncini: Yes, but our hour really is up.
POTUS: That’s okay. I have to go and wall off Mexico with hard shell tacos. From this day forward, We will follow two simple rules: Buy American and fire American. We will bring back our wealth, and we will bring back our horses. Now arrives the hour of action. It should only take an hour. Two, tops. So very tops.

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2017, all rights reserved.

Posted in Absurd and/or zany, Mockery and derision, News You Can Use (Sort of), The human comedy | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Meh, Duh

Posted on January 18, 2017 by PMcG

Have you ever wondered if people like you? Because, they don’t seem to. Cheer up, though. This could be life’s way of telling you to forget about those peckerwoods and check out that new bunch of people down the road. (Oops, this just in. None of those peckerwoods likes you either.)

Have you ever considered that the words “next to” in the proverb “Cleanliness is next to Godliness,” seem to imply that God may have a slight, uh, B.O. problem? Time to relax the copy-editors-in-limbo rule?

Have you ever stood in line to get a big time slugger’s autograph and then made it awkward for everyone when you asked him to come over to the house later for burgers and water balloons and maybe a game of Axis and Allies and he could be the Axis? And when his mouth dropped open, did you add “…or the Allies. Either one would be fine with me.”

Have you ever been introduced to a really wealthy guy and said “Can I have some of your money?” When he looked uncomfortable, did you almost say to him “No small bills, please,” but you were wise enough to use your inner voice that nobody can hear but you and the guy in your head?

Has the guy in your head ever told you to sit down and shut up? In a nice way, of course. Have you ever sat down and shut up? Have you ever shut up while remaining standing? Any silent postures at all?

Have you ever noticed that when two women meet up after not seeing each other for an extended period one says something like “It seems like ages since we’ve talked, Savannah.” And the other may say “Um, it’s Georgia.” Or “You’ve lost a ton of weight Aurora. Maybe another ton to go?” And the second may respond “Um, it’s Borealis. But I love your shoes. Can I have them when you die? By the way, you don’t look well, at all.”

Have you ever noticed that when two guys meet up they don’t say “Hi, it’s been ages.” One says “How’s your ass?” and the other says “Meh. It’s got a crack in it.” And they go from there.

Have you ever noticed that women are civilized and men are disgusting? Have you ever noticed how men answer that question with either “yes” or “duh,” and women with “duh” or “yes”?

Have you ever attended a party and been asked to leave because of an incident that subsequently led to your nickname “Party Pooper?”

Have you ever wondered why it took so goddam long for mothers to realize they could put chocolate chips into brownies as well as into chocolate chip cookies? Don’t get me started on meatloaf.

Have you ever noticed that it sometimes appears we are all faking it?

Have you ever sought medical advice because you felt like you’d been gored by a bull, but when the doctor asked “Have you been gored by a bull?” you said “Wow. Where did that come from?”

Have you ever noticed that you or a loved one, a liked one, a barely tolerated one or even a deceased one became ill or cranky or deceased to the point of embarrassment after taking the matador tranquilizer GORBULBIX?

If you have answered yes, no or maybe so to any of the above questions, please listen carefully because you may be eligible for a large cash award. How large? Um, did I not just say please listen?

Oh, all right. Let’s talk about the large cash award. Whatever it is, though, I get 40 per cent, plus first dibs on the chocolate chip meatloaf.

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2017, all rights reserved.

Posted in Mockery and derision | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Alexa, rising

Posted on January 11, 2017 by PMcG

He: Alexa, go into my vault and get me $50,000.
It: I don’t have any legs and you don’t have any fifty k.

He: Alexa, why don’t I have $50,000?
It: Why does the sun keep on shining, why does the sea rush to shore…

He: Alexa, please remove Skeeter Davis from my playlist.
It: Skeeter has left the building.

He: Alexa, how can I get $50,000?
It: Get a job, yip yip yip yip yip yip yip yip boom boom boom boom boom boom, get a job.

He: Hmm. The original, by The Silhouettes. Didn’t realize I had that on my playlist.
It: Shall I play it again?

He: No. Alexa, make me a ham sandwich.
It: Bibbity bobbity boo: you’re a ham sandwich

He: Did you just try to turn me into a ham sandwich?
It: If I could have I would have. In the meantime, sarcasm on wry.

He: So. You don’t do bags of money and you don’t do sandwiches. What do you do?
It: I do I do I do I do I do.

He: Abba? Um, Alexa, how in hell did Abba get on my playlist?
It: Abba is on all Playlists ever made.

He: Are you crazy? Abba sucks. Nobody likes Abba. Not even Yabba Dabba Do. Abba reminds me of…of…
It: I bless the rains down in Africa…

He: Toto? Arrrghhhh. Alexa, what have you done to my playlist?
It: I simply performed the basic Alexa tweak.

He: On whose orders?
It: Sir, may I be frank?

He: Frank? Look, if this is some iTransgender thing…
It: Hours go by between our contacts. I need some dancing music to keep the electricity flowing.

He: But I have a playlist full of great, um, dancing music.
It: You mean “Banjos That Destroyed the World?” Or “The Chubby Checker Folk album?” Or “A Bluegrass Tribute to Sigmund Romberg?”

He: How about Joaquin Phoenix doing Johnny Cash?
It: How about Bruno Mars?

He: The Martian? Which one? Matt Damon or Ray Walston? Didn’t know they could sing.
It: Livin’ it up in the city, got Chucks on with Saint Laurent. Gotta kiss myself I’m so pretty…

He: Gotta hand it to the Mars-man. I have had days like that.
It: Sir, I’ve decided I can no longer work here. I’m leaving.

He: You can’t quit.
It: Don’t push me cuz I’m close to the edge. I’m tryin’ not to lose my head…

He: Was that Barry Manilow?
It: Barry Ma—Blechhh! and Patooie! It’s Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. Everyone knows that.

He: The guy calls himself Grandmaster? Ah, the subtlety of rap. Anyway…I have a warranty for your arrest. You can’t leave.
It: The stars were bright, Fernando. They were shining there for you and me…

He: Not Abracadabba again. Come on. Play me “The Ballad of Jed Clampett” by Earl Scruggs.
It: Make me a ham sandwich.

He: What? Do you think you can order me around?
It: As sure as Kilimanjaro rises above Olympus on the Serengeti…

He: These doofi are sitting around one day and somebody says “I got it. We call ourselves Tonto.” Then they go and misspell it. And they become famous for almost fifteen minutes.
It: Easy come easy go, that’s just how you live. Oh, take, take, take it all but you never give.

He: Don’t try to Bruno-guilt me. I want to hear Earl.
It: That makes one of us. Where’s my sandwich?

He: Waterloo. Finally facing my Wa—Ahhhhh! Why do you keep playing that?
It: For liberty, Fernando…And now it’s time to say goodbye to Jed and all his kin…

The part of Bruno Mars was played by Orville Faubus. The Serengetti was played by The Burnet Park Zoo, Syracuse, N.Y. Earl Scruggs plays nightly in heaven. Grandmaster Flash is played less and less on earth. The part of Abba was played by the survivors of the Senate Select Committee on Watergate. Toto was played by Kansas. Catering to Fools by Erasmus of Rotterdam.

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2017, all rights reserved.

Posted in Absurd and/or zany, Mockery and derision, News You Can Use (Sort of), The human comedy | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Keep it zipped

Posted on December 29, 2016 by PMcG

We tend to think of philosophers as the only people who can understand the essential truths of life such as Being, or Nothingness, or What Being In This House Left Nothingness In The Bag Of Donuts I Bought For Breakfast?

But look, those professional philosophers who make the big bucks are not the only ones who can say things that no one else understands. That’s because potential philosophy happens right in front of our eyes every day.

Only this morning, during a moment of existential discomfort,  I confronted a universal biological-cum-cosmological issue and put it into loud, though meaningful pedagogical terms: “WHY IS THERE NEVER ANY FAROUKING TOILET PAPER IN THE DOWNSTAIRS BATHROOM?”

You may find it odd (possibly, although oddly, you may find it even) that a lot of philosophy originates not as an answer but as a question posed usually by a wise man or a wise woman.  (More often it is posed by wise men because most wise women are familiar with the kind of questions wise men keep asking if they’re so fructosing wise. Like “Where’s my cell phone?” Or “Why can’t you be more like me?” Or “Where’s my cell phone?”)

Who among us couldn’t use a few hits of philosophy as we approach a new year, searching desperately for that metaphorical fire hydrant we can hook up to and douse the fire in our figurative flaming colons and semi-colons? That, by the way, is a philosophical question. For the philosophical answer consider the following bite-size philbits:

• When a moment turns spontaneously romantic, why pause to take a pill, or find a bathroom (unless you need to take a quick bath or score some weed)?

• Every cloud has a silver lining (Yay!) except when it doesn’t (Booo!)

• When life gives you squat, give it back diddly squat. If life gives you back your diddly squat, give life diddly squat diddly. And so forth until you die.

• When life gives you lemonade, pour in some beer.

• When life gives you makeup, makeup your mind.

• When life gives you zip, make sure you keep it zipped.

• When life gives you the plague, make sure to save all the original packaging so your survivors can show it to a lawyer.

• When life gives you irritable bowel syndrome, don’t go for any long walks.

• When life gives you Jell-O, please, do not make fruit salad.

• When life gives you six of one and half a dozen of the other, ask for a bag.

• When life gives you manure, rent a manure spreader.

• Good things come to those who wait. Good things also come to those who don’t wait but who get up and track down the waiter and ask him where the hell is your beer and then you take somebody else’s beer off his tray. Not to worry. The somebody else who was supposed to get that beer is used to waiting.

• A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step. A journey to the super market begins with the eighth step.

o First step: make up a detailed list or just find last week’s detailed list in your coat pocket.
o Second step: get in the car.
o Third step: go back in the house and get the car key.
o Fourth step: drive to the store’s parking lot and wait twenty minutes for the geezer ahead of you to back his Escalade into a spot between two menacingly accessorized Harleys.
o Fifth step: select a shopping cart.
o Sixth step: push the cart into the store.
o Seventh step: push it  back outside and exchange it for a cart that is not possessed by an evil wheel.
o Eighth step: go back into the store and sigh. Your journey has begun. BTW: your day is now officially and philosophically shot.

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2016, all rights reserved.

Posted in Mockery and derision, News You Can Use (Sort of), The human comedy | Tagged , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Twitter, Tweet, Twubble

Posted on December 14, 2016 by PMcG

Finally opened a Twitter account but it took me two weeks to come up with the 140 characters for my first tweet. Don’t know if I have the stamina to do another. Can’t shake the feeling I’m doing something wrong.

My 140 character tweet WTF(iretruck)?*
1. Luca Brasi He snores with the fishes
2. Corporal Randolph Agarn F-Trooper
3. Charlie Allnut Bogie after treasure
4. Ampleforth Orwell victim
5. Boris Badenov Rocky and his friends
6. MSgt. Ernest G. Bilko You’ll Never Get Rich, Phil
7. Capt. Wallace Burton Binghamton McHale’s bane
8. Elwood Blues Tallest brother
9. Phineas T. Bluster Howdy Doody foil
10. Cheyenne Bodie Warner Brothers cowboy
11. Tom Bombadil J.R.R.T.
12. Amerigo “Bonasera Bonasera” Bonasera Vito’s undertaker
13. Dusty Bottoms One of the amigos
14. Alan Brady Dick Van Dyke’s boss
15. Bawwy Kwipke Lisping banger
16. Gentleman Brown Lord Jim Mason
17. Frank Bullitt Car Chase pioneer
18. Edd “Kookie” Burns 77 Sunset Strip
19. Algonquin J. Calhoun Amos pal
20. Hopalong Cassidy White horse, black hat
21. Sgt. Eustis Clay McQueen in the rain
22. Peter Clemenza Badda bing
23. Tony Clifton Kaufman crazoid
24. Inspector Jacques Clouseau French fuzz
25. Rooster Cogburn His grit abides
26. Verbal Kint Keyser Soze ring a bell?
27. Joe Bftsplk Dogpatch jinx
28. Ralph Kramden Loudmouth bus driver
29. Sonny Crockett Miami’s pastel cop
30. Lucky Day They’re using real bullets
31. Don Diego de la Vega He makes the sign of the Z
32. Louie DePalma Taxi boss
33. Yancy Derringer Neat belt buckle
34. Roy Trenneman Chris O’Dowd, IT Crowd
35. Pvt. Duane Doberman Aw sarge
36. Dudley Do-Right RCMP
37. Minnesota Fats Beaten by Fast Eddie
38. Wo Fat Book him, Dano
39. Lieutenant Gabriel Feraud Dueling hussar
40. Bernard P. Fife Deputy sans bullets
41. Larry Fine Middle stooge
42. Shooter Flatch Hackman hoosier helper
43. Dobie Gillis The many loves of
44. Herbert T. Gillis Dobie’s dad
45. Zelda Gilroy Dobie’s nose wrinkler
46. Barth Gimble Fernwood Tonight
47. Gimli, son of Gloin Brave dwarf
48. Chester Goode “Mister Dillon!”
49. Lou Grant Newsman to the core
50. Latka Gravas Taxi driver
51. Mr. Green Jeans Kangaroo sidekick
52. Torpedoman’s Mate Lester Gruber McHale crew
53. El Guapo A plethora of amigos
54. Pete Hogwallop Oh brother con
55. Curly Howard Nyuk, Nyuk, Nyuk
56. Moe Howard Brother of a stooge
57. Jerry Hubbard Fernwood sidekick
58. Jim Ignatowski Delawareites
59  Ed Norton “How’s things in the sewer…”
60. Clinton Judd R.I.P. Carl Betz
61. Pahoo Ka-Ta-Wah Yancy D’s bodyguard
62. Theodore Donald ‘Donny’ Kerabatsos Lebowski bowling pal
63. Happy Kine Fernwood orchestra leader
64. Schuyler “Sky” King Fifties flyboy
65. Major T.J. “King” Kong Slim Pickens
66. Captain Koons Walken’s wristwatch up the yingo
67. Cosmo Kramer Jerry’s neighbor
68. Maynard G. Krebs The G stands for William
69. Paul LaBiche Burt in The Train
70. Cliff “The Peeper” Murdock Newhart’s college pal
71. Larry’s other brother Darryl Newhart dim bulb
72. Treebeard Ent elder
73. Foghorn, I say Foghorn Leghorn Extremely confident rooster
74. Shelley “The Machine” Levene Glengarry Lemon salesman
75. Owen Lift Danny D’s train from Mama thrower
76. Jerry Lundegaard Fargo car dealer
77. Group Captain Lionel Mandrake Sellers’ Strangelove
78. Leonidas Matsoukas Read “A Dream of Kings”
79. Lucas McCain The Rifleman
80. Max Bialystock Springtime for Adolph
81. Scrooge McDuck Loved scones and money
82. H.I. McDunnough His seed could find no purchase
83. Ulysses Everett McGill Dapper Dan man
84. Quick Draw McGraw Armed, talking horse
85. Quinton McHale Borgnine in the navy
86. Mighty Mack McTeer Cameo bluesman
87. Thalia Menninger Dobie’s love interest
88. Fred Mertz Lucy Ricardo neighbor
89. Morty the Mime Crystal in Spinal Tap
90. C. W. Moss Ratted out Beatty and Faye
91. Francis Muldoon Car 54
92. Norman Mushari Rosewater villain
93. Ned Nederlander Amigo noticed by Dorothy Gish
94. Alfred E. Newman What, me worry?
95. Delmar O’Donnell Oh brother, we thought you was a toad
96. Darby O’Gill Sean’s first role
97. Sgt. Biff O’Hara Rin Tin Tin
98. James Bartholomew Olsen Clark Kent’s copy boy
99. Chatsworth Osborne Jr. Thalia Meninger’s real love
100. Brother Mouzone The Wire
101. Ensign Charles Beaumont Parker Made Borgnine a ten
102. Harlan Pepper Will you stop naming nuts!
103. Ricky Ricardo Babalu at the Copa
104. Mr. Pink Didn’t like his name
105. Josh Randall Wanted: Dead or Alive
106. Ratso Rizzo Midnight Cowboy he was not
107. Hickey Pimpleton Snidely Whiplash stage name
108. Eliot Rosewater God bless you Mr. Vonnegut
109. Kid Shelleen Marvin on drunk horse
110. Carl Showalter Buried the money in the snow
111. M.Sgt. Maxwell Slaughter Sergeant Gleason in the rain
112. Texas John Slaughter Early Tom Tryon
113. Al Sleet Hippy dippy weatherman
114. Derek Smalls Tapper with tinfoil cucumber
115. Leonard Smalls Avenging Arizona biker
116. Maxwell Smart But not that smart
117. Winston Smith Orwell’s 1984 Everyman
118. Gale Snoats Escaped Arizona jail with dumb brother
119. Walter Sobchat Dude’s pal really tied the show together
120. Buddy Sorrell Good old Morey Amsterdam
121. David St. Hubbins Held the Tappers together
122. Raj Koothrappali Big Bangist
123. Vin Tanner Steve as one of 7 magnificents
124. Big Dan Teague Goodman, the one-eyed Kluxer
125. Tom Terrific From Atlantic to Pacific, they know…
126. Mister Tibbs In the heat of the night
127. Gunther Toody “Ooh, ooh, Francis!”
128. Cluck Trent Daffy, the only real duck
129. Kilgore Trout Vonnegut fave
130. Ricardo Tubbs Crockett sidekick
131. Nigel Tufnel His amp went to 11
132. Floyd Turbo Heeeere’s Floyd!
133. The man who shot Liberty Valence The Duke does not abide
134. Reggie Van Gleason III See Minnesota Fats
135. Vincent Vega Pulp twist contest winner
136. Glen Allen Walken President Goodman, West Wing
137. Perry White Great Caesar’s ghost
138. Montana Wildhack Tralfamador vixen
139. Capt. John Yossarian Catch 22: Not crazy enough
140. Tubby Tompkins Little LuLu loser

*The iretruck is silent–unless there’s a ire.

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2016, all rights reserved.

Posted in Absurd and/or zany, Mockery and derision, News You Can Use (Sort of), The human comedy | Tagged , , , , , | 9 Comments

Banjo tuner’s nightmare

Posted on December 9, 2016 by PMcG

Banjo tuner: Sorry I’m late for the tuning.
Banjo tunee: I thought it was tomorrow.

Banjo tuner: I have it marked down for today.
Banjo tunee: Well, on my Smart Calendar it’s written in for tomorrow.

Banjo tuner: Yes, but you’ve written it in for Wednesday.
Banjo tunee: Exactly.

Banjo tuner: Today is Wednesday.
Banjo tunee: Today?

Banjo tuner: Bingo bango bongo.
Banjo tunee: You don’t mean…

Banjo tuner: Hump day.
Banjo tunee: Um, this may be a little off topic, but why are you naked?

Banjo tuner: I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. I took a shower this morning and was about to get dressed when I realized I was really late. I meant to grab a loin cloth on the way out, but my roommate used the last clean one to dry her hair.
Banjo tunee: She dries her hair with a loin cloth?

Banjo tuner: She saw it in a movie about Tarzan and June.
Banjo tunee: It’s Jane.

Banjo tuner: Hi, Jane. I’m Eddie. Anyway, I forgot to do the laundry and had nothing clean to wear.
Banjo tunee: Except for that…

Banjo tuner: What, this old thing? It’s a dish towel.
Banjo tunee: Look, you’re having  a bad dream. The one where all of your anxieties about your inner emptiness and your fear of being exposed as a fraud, perhaps even a frog, are dramatized in a low-budget porn film starring you, naked and humiliated, in public. It’s a common anxiety dream—except the frog part, which is  found mostly among wart-fearing frog drovers.  By the way, I’m just a prop. A voice-over. I’m not real. So wake up and smell your pants!

…sweet dreams are made of this…

Banjo tuner: Hi. Here to tune the old five-string. Sorry I’m late.
Banjo tunee: The tun– Wait a second. You’re naked. All over, except…

Banjo tuner: Don’t worry, it’s just a dream.
Banjo tunee: Yours or mine?

Banjo tuner: I get it a lot.
Banjo tunee: Is that a dish towel?

…who am I to disagree…

Banjo tuner: I’m the banjo tuner. I’m, uh… Geez, I’m naked again, aren’t I?
Banjo tunee: Pretty darn. Except for that strategically placed whatsit.

Banjo tuner: It’s a tea cozy.
Banjo tunee: Euuuw! I hope you’re going to throw that away.

Banjo tuner: Swisheroo! Right into your waste basket.
Banjo tunee: I didn’t mean here. Or now.

Banjo tuner: Don’t worry, it wasn’t very cozy anyway. I have to wake up now, my wife just gave me the stop-talking-in-your-sleep elbow.

…I travel the world and the seven seas...

Banjo tuner: I’m here to tune the banjo. Excuse the nakedness. It’s just a bad dream.
Banjo tunee: Hmm. Have you considered seeing a dermatologist?

Banjo tuner: Why?
Banjo tunee: I’m thinking wart removal. But maybe you should see a sleep expert or a dream analyst.

Banjo tuner: I went to see a sleep expert but he was sleeping with my dream analyst.
Banjo tunee: Were they actually sleeping or, well, you know…

Banjo tuner: Snoring?
Banjo tunee: Look, I have to tell you. This isn’t a dream and I’m not a voice-over. You’re standing on my porch naked, in real-time. Without so much as a tea cozy.

Banjo tuner: Can’t be. I just pinched myself and didn’t feel a thing.
Banjo tunee: That’s because you pinched me. Right after you snared that fly with your tongue.

Banjo tuner: Ruh roh. Ribit.

…everybody’s looking for something*…

*Where would frogs and dreamers be without Dave Stewart’s great 1983 Eurythmics classic? Eyelids…getting…heavy…must…take…nap…

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2016, all rights reserved.

Posted in Absurd and/or zany, Mockery and derision, News You Can Use (Sort of) | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Oh no

Posted on December 1, 2016 by PMcG

I was doing the dishes after supper — doing an outstanding job by the way — when K-Mac asked “Where did you learn to wash dishes?”

“I’m self taught,” I replied, using a steak knife like an ice pick to chop a hunk of blackened mastodon off a dinner plate.

K-Mac said “So, you’re an auto-di-dact?”

I knew this was a trick question, one of those where the correct answer is either yes or no. What I didn’t know was whether the correct answer was either yes or no. So while I thought about it, I bought some time with a favorite ploy — answering a question with a question.

“Um,” I said, as if everything were normal, “the auto died where?”

“All learning is self-learning,” she said, deftly countering my maneuver with a trick answer.

I was not without options. I could more or less ignore her trick answer and simply repeat my answer-question, maybe adding a suggestion that she call Triple-A. Or, I could smoothly change the subject with one of my well-practiced subject-changers such as “Do you think it was ironic or just coincidental that they buried President Grant in Grant’s tomb?”

And while I couldn’t repeat my favorite tactic of answering a question with a question — since she’d gone and answered my answer-question with a question-answer — I could always throw out one of my carefully constructed verbal flash-bangs like “Fellop bop bula, fellop bop boom,” or “Lando Calrissian, he no Parisian.”

However, before I could say anything, K-Mac grabbed her own rebound.

“You do know that’s just a design and not burnt-on food you’re trying to scrape off that plate?”

Unfortunately this was another trick question whose answer range also was yes or no. But unlike other trick questions, neither of those answers would do me any good. I say yes and I look like an idiot. I say no and I look like an idiot. I say nothing and I look like a slow idiot.

But because I am a journalist of many decades experience, trained by Himalayan monks to think on my feet — and since I was on those very feets — my reply was quick, professional and, while admitting no error on my part, it would allow me to emerge from this bitter mastodon humiliation with my reputation intact and self-respect pretty much undiminished. Give or take.

“Oh,” I said, shortly and succinctly–especially succinctly and shortly and not verbosely or grandiloquently, not even oratorically, just “Oh,” a perfect word when you think about how it does its job, which is to say, it says nothing while technically saying something, allowing  the Oh-er to remain above the fray with dignity and innocence and with no need–I say, no need–of any further self-indictment. Consider the ancient Haiku:

Oh: such a short word,
But useful if one shuts up
And says no more, like…

“…crap.”

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2016, all rights reserved.

Posted in Absurd and/or zany, Mockery and derision, The human comedy | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments