From
The Shepherd Express:
I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz, another official Presidents Day has come
and gone and if you’re like me, it’s all downhill from here. To me and the
guys, Presidents Day is the highlight of the year ’cause that’s the day that
coincides with our social event of the year—our gala costume confab in which we
get masqueraded up as a U.S. president and then convene over by the Uptowner
tavern/charm school where a bartender is usually kind enough to award a shot of
bourbon on-the-White House for whichever of us looks the most like the
president he’s supposed to look like. And I tell you, things can get pretty
testy ’cause we’re all competitors, and this year was no exception, what the
fock.
There
was quite a brouhaha when Little Jimmy Iodine got really upset ’cause he
would’ve won but got disqualified on a technicality. What happened is Little
Jimmy came as William Henry Harrison, our ninth president who croaked one month
after he got inaugurated. Not only was it the best goddamn William Henry
Harrison you could ever hope to see, but it was creative to boot ’cause Jimmy
came as ol’ “Tippecanoe” a month
and a
day after the inauguration—he even
smelled
like a guy who’d been dead for 24 hours, I kid you not.
But
when the bartender wanted to know what the hell it was stinking up the place so
bad, Jimmy said, “It’s Benjamin Harrison from the Old Dominion state of
Virginia, sir!” Little Jimmy had William Henry mixed up with his
grandson-president, which is understandable, what with all the excitement and
hard cider we were logging onto the bar tab. But in our group, getting mixed up
on your presidents is grounds for disqualification from the costume contest.
And to make it doubly hard on Little Jimmy, the bartender then had him
impeached from the premises ’cause he smelled worse than the election of 1888.
The
bartender ended up giving the shot to Ernie who came as Thomas A. Edison.
(Yeah, I know. Go figure.) Some of the scholars in our group questioned the
historical accuracy of Ernie’s outfit, not quite recalling ever seeing a photo
of Edison wearing knickers or anything about an Edison administration, and if
Ernie looked like a president at all, it was Ben Franklin. But we were all sick
of the contest by then and we agreed that it was time to stop arguing and to
start drinking like Warren G. Harding.
I
went as James Polk this year. I chose Polk, our only president to die from
diarrhea as far as I know, ’cause he’s been getting better marks from some
historians lately, plus I wouldn’t have to wear a fake beard all night; so what
the fock. And as the distinguished former president from North Carolina, I felt
rather privileged to field a host of questions and comments from assorted
patrons who wandered in and out through the evening, like, “Hey, did the loony
bin let out early tonight?” and “Hey asshole, buy me a drink.”
One
guy asked me what I thought it would take for Art Kumbalek to be elected
president. I thought of our current president and wondered how the goddamn
orange bag of clown ever got elected. One thing, he had a university named
after himself. And then it dawned on me like the Allies storming Normandy: Art
Kumbalek Public University. I had my buddy Herbie Hoover get me another two
cocktails ’cause I had a lot of thinking to do, you bet.
The
first important thing I had to figure was what Art Kumbalek Public University
would stand for, what its mission ought to be besides making a quick buck. And
I decided the mission of AKPU would be to civilize the wild beast and animal.
For christ sakes, haven’t these creatures ever heard of evolution, or vice
versa? Take these apes, please. Us humans and them started out about the same
time some millions of years ago. However, whereas we are sending spaceships
into space, these big hocking primates are still spending 36 hours a day in
search of bananas and
they don’t seem the
least tad embarrassed by it.
And
yet, we’re supposed to save the rainforest for them? I’ll bet you a buck
two-eighty your typical animal could give a rat’s focking ass what happens to
it. And it’s not just the rainforest, but the whole planet. These animals bear
as much brunt for the destruction of Mother Nature as we humans do, especially
the ones we keep in our homes and call housepets. I can only imagine how much
of our ozone gets spent for the making of squeakies and the manufacture of
olive-green plastic water bowls. I’d sure as hell like to know where Fido
thinks he’s going to get his rubberized Snoopy squeaky if the Homo sapien goes
the way of the green man from Mars, ain’a? You tell me.
Yeah,
there’s a lot to think about when you start a university from scratch, but
it’ll have to wait ’cause right now I got to buy my buddy Arthur A. Chester a
nice cocktail ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.
From:
http://shepherdexpress.com/article-29292-hire-education.html
Related:
https://theshepstore.kostizi.com/
