 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| Here we will be posting ArtNotes previously published in the Lone Tree Leader. We will add more ArtNotes from time to time. |
| Which Doctor Doctor E. Fudd, a medical specialist from Hither, went to his office in Yon recently and was shocked to find that it had been totally ransacked and all the files were mixed up. He saw the file for a Mrs. Kowalski, but her chart was mixed up with some of the others and he couldn't tell which is which. But one thing he was sure of, he didn't want the Kowalski clan mad at him-- not Tonto, not Pronto nor even Kemo Sabe Kowalski. Finally Dr. Fudd narrowed it down to just two charts and he decided to call the Kowalski house. Pronto Kowalski answered the phone. "Mr. Kowalski, this is Dr. Fudd. I have bad news. Your wife either has AIDS or Alzheimer's disease; I don't know which." Distraught to the point that he turned down the volume on the Jerry Springer Show, Pronto gets all worried and asks, "Egad, doctor! What should I do!?" "Take the missus way out to Afar and drop her off," the doctor said. "If she finds her way back home, for goodness sakes don't have sex with her!" Aj |
| Visitor Counter |
| Hunting music Somewhere between Hither and Yon and off the road leading to Afar, a hunting accident occurred on the last day of the Agrano County pheasant hunting season. According to Dr. Tonto Kowalski at the Agrano County Hospital he was called in to conduct emergency surgery for a hunter that was injured while climbing over a fence. From what the doctor said, the man had winged a pheasant and although the bird couldn't fly, it fell into an adjacent field and was trying to flutter and scurry away. Hurrying to retrieve the cock, the hunter got snagged on the fence and dropped his Remington 1100 shotgun. "The gun went off and hit the poor fellow right in the crotch!" Doc said. Being an animal lover and all, I wondered what happened to the poor cock. When the hunter woke up from surgery, he discovered that Dr. Kowalski had done a terrific job of repairing his vital parts. As he was gathering up his gear and preparing to go home, the doctor handed him a business card. "Here," the doc said, "this is my brother's card--I'll make an appointment for you to see him." "Gosh," the hunter asked, "is your brother a doctor too?" "No," Doctor Kowalski replied, "he plays the flute. He'll show you where to put your fingers so you don't pee in your eyes." Aj |
| Bubba's Place Anyone that is in business these days has to be especially mindful of daily operational expenses. It doesn't make any difference if you're buying and selling corn, publishing a newspaper or whatever, you have to know whether the company ink is flowing red or black. Bubba Kowalski, Tonto Kowalski's brother, had this all thought out when he opened the doors to his new eatery over by the Namlig River and not too far from Hither and Yon. Bubba's Place as it's called is a restaurant showpiece of efficiency and Bubba is always seeking ways to save a nickel or two. "After all," he said, "here's a good example." "I found out that just dropping a piece of silverware adds up!" Glancing at Bubba's breast pocket, I couldn't help but notice a knife, fork and spoon. "I figgered out," he said, "if a waitress drops a piece of flatware, it takes about three minutes to pick it up, run outside to the kitchen and the grill and get another one and run it back to the customer." Nudging me with sort of a Donald Trump look and patting his breast pocket, he repeated how lost time means lost money. Getting even closer Bubba looked at me and said, "But here's my big secret." Leaning back, he kinda gestured toward his fly. You couldn't help but see a long string of butcher twine sticking out of his zipper. "I found out too," he said, "that little ol' bit of string saves money." Wide eyed with anticipation I said, "Jumpin' Jehosophat, Bubba! How's that?" "Well," he began, "you know all the motions a man has to go through in the bathroom. I figgered with this piece of string us guys that work here could just tow it out when nature called, do their business and not have to waste costly time washing their hands. Adds up, you know." Looking around I noticed all the employees had silverware in their pockets, and all the buckaroos had a string dangling from their zippers. Real glad that I didn't work there, I asked Bubba, "Well, that's just fine and dandy, but how do the guys get everything back in place?" "Well, I don't know 'bout the other guys," he whispered, "but I use my knife and spoon." Aj |
| What goes around, comes around I suppose that like a lot of people, spring is my favorite time of year around these parts. There's just something about the transition that seems to happen overnight when the dreary and cold harshness of winter gives way to the green buds that start popping out in March and April. Sitting here in the afternoon with nary a cloud in the sky and a gentle breeze and the temperature in the mid-70's, it's hard to imagine that ol' man winter isn't too far away. But, the corn across the road will soon be harvested, the leaves will be off the trees and everyone's gas bill will be going up. I don't really "hate" many things-if anything at all-but I sure ain't fond of winter. With all the weather phenomena going on; successive hurricanes in Florida and another one brewing and gathering strength and typhoons in Japan along with a few earthquakes, I've been trying to figure out what this winter has in store. I've been looking at the woolly worms. According to what I've heard, if the woolly worms are real black in color, we're in for a bad winter. If they aren't black and more of a brown color, the winter months won't be too bad. Most of 'em I've seen have been smushed and all red and yucky-not sure what that means. I'm not sure either what woolly worms really know about the weather, nor do I have any idea who came up with the black/brown theory. So, using a more sensible and common sense approach I journeyed up to Agrano County to visit with the elders of the Namlig Indian tribe. Relying on ancient and secretive information that's been passed on from the elders and the tribal chiefs for eons, the Namlig tribe pretty much knows what's in store for the rest of us come winter time. It just so happens that my good friend Tonto Kowalski is one of the tribal chieftains. Chief Tonto, which translates into "like a horse," told me that unfortunately, over the years many of the archaic theories had been forever lost. Playing it safe, Chief Tonto merely told the young bucks of the tribe that it was going to be a tough winter. "Gather plenty of wood for the fires!" he told 'em. Then, not wanting to take any chances he did the next most sensible thing and called the National Weather Service. "Is this going to be a real cold winter?" he asked. "Without question," the meteorologist explained, "with all the satellite imagery we have available, mounds and mounds of computer data that's been compiled for years and years and a lot of black woolly worms, this is definitely going to be a terribly harsh winter." Chief Tonto rushed back to the tribal council and didn't reveal his source of information, but told the tribe to gather as much wood as possible. "It's gonna be rough winter," he said. For weeks and weeks the Namlig tribe has been gathering every scrap of wood they can find. Just the other day, Chief Tonto decided to check with the weather service again. After all, if it turned out to be a mild winter instead of what he had been telling the tribe, his reverence would be seriously diminished. "Are you absolutely sure it's going to be a hard winter?" Chief Tonto asked the weatherman. "From all indications and especially from what we've been hearing lately, this winter is going to be terrible," the meteorologist explained. "Gosh," Chief Tonto asked, "I know you have all that high-tech information and government subsidized woolly worm research and all, but how can you be so dang sure?" "Well," the weatherman replied, "high-tech information and woolly worm research aside, I'll let you in on a little secret-we're absolutely sure it's gonna be a rough winter 'cause all the Indians up in Agrano County have been collecting wood like crazy!" Aj |