Pulseloose Squeaks
The Trout drain bored of preggers met in Tupelo last week for an emergency session intended to explore methods of surviving the economic crush without losing our liquor license and/or rolling papers. Refugee-at-large Ob Long Pulseloose opened the meeting with an extended diatribe against organized religion, blood transfusions and female polygamy. His angst was echoed by all in attendance including The Least Reverend Bun G. Cord and his assistant, Mahlik E. Faucet, AKA, Steve Bhaerman, I loves ya.
Pulseloose had the audience eating from his hand as the food service company serving the hotel where the group met in a boiler room was on strike at the time and the only protein available were dusty pecans from the retired professor's "personal stash." Each bored member was allowed eight dozen nuts, equaling many thousand pecans and several nuts, including member-emeritus, Dave Lieben. Pulseloose asked everyone to save their applause until the end of his presentation, by which time everyone had left and you could hear a pin drop as microphones were positioned under every table.
Citing brevity as a good rule of thumb as well as a hard word to remember, Pulseloose managed to assail every known ethnic group in Gumbo, Iowa and left no doubt as to his intentions in the coming primary season when it became clear the Canadian expatriate will be intent upon leaving his mark in as many abandoned Howard Johnson restaurants as is humanly possible, in Nova Scotia, eh?
Here then is a summary of Professor Pulseloose's comments:
Thank you, thank you. Please hold your applause until the end of my, uh, presentation.
Speaking of end, I think ours is near. In fact, I just put a sell command on all my mutual funds and am going to put our house on the market this weekend, the fast food store, I mean. I think the jig is up, the cards are tumbling down, the Russ-ki's are coming and the Red Chinese have all the marbles. We might as well all move to Mexico and learn Pig Latin. Don't drink the water, though, and be careful of bandits. They're easy to recognize as they all wear police uniforms.
Your cash is worthless. Leave it with me. You won't need it anymore. Same thing with your credit cards. I'd eat those. Good roughage. Anything in your freezer is probably ruined. I'll take those orange juice cans. Veggie burgers if they haven't been opened. And you won't need any of that primo anymore. Might as well dump it here.
Now they have meteoroids in space heading our way. Gimmee those car keys. Everyone run!
Time is almost over. Breath deeply. Hug somebody. No, not me, dammit.
I always told you life was precious. I wasn't kidding, was I?
At least we got to experience the Internet for a few precious years. Broncos won a Super Bowl. I can't complain. I saw my name in print thousands of times, even if no one else was paying attention. Before she met me, my wife thought I wrote about fishing. She married me any way, even if all I ever wrote about was Bob Seger or Bob Dylan or boob enhancement, usually me.
Man, the clock is ticking. I'm going to Trini & Carmen's. Bye now.
(silence)
