Scuse me folks, but could someone 'splain ta' me why peoples are still comin' up ta' me and wishing me a "Happy New Year"? I have been ponderin' this for some minutes now, and if my calculations are correct, this would be Feb. 22nd, some seven weeks after the event. Whut th' hell!!

Whut, do peoples think that I might be so dense that I jus' didn't, "get it" th' first 200 times durin' January and February? Or perhaps they jus' want'ta let me know in an oblique manner that we are in a, "new" year now, fearin' perhaps that fact had gone unnoticed by me? — as tho I had jus' emerged from a cave or somthin'? Mebbe they're jus' tryin' to keep me current with whus' happenin'? I dunno.
I had so been looking forward to the end of the "holidays" and the endless exchange of Seasons Greetings. but, it seems...there is no end!

I cn' only await th' next upcoming holiday with dread and apprehension when peoples I don't even know will be wishing me a, "Happy St. Patty's Day". Peoples with names like Flores, Smith, Klein and Shultz, etc. etc. etc. will be comin' drunkenly up to ya', wishin' ya' a "Happy St. Patty's Day" in a loud aggressive voice, while slappin' ya' heartily on th' back. And ya' best be respondin' in kind, cuz they don't like it when ya' don't celebrate with 'em.

"Whas'sa matter with you? You don't like St Patty's day, or somthin'!! Ya' ain't even got any fuckin' green on! Whas up with that shit?"

"No, no, it's not that! It's jus' that I'm not Irish you see!"

"So whut ya' fuckhead!! I'm from Croatia and I'm celebratin'! Get with it, y'hear!!"

Well any ways....nuff' said.

th' cap't.

P.S. By th' way, how many peoples came up to ya' a couple weeks ago and wished ya' a, "Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day"?

Should you ever get th' hankerin' fer some RILLY HOT buffalo wings, I suggest ya' head on down ta' th' 400 block of E.18th ta' a joint called Grinders. And hey, look here, I'm warnin' ya', OK; these fookin' wings are HOT!!! I'm tellin' ya! They're Dragon Breath Hot!! I like hot stuff myself, but these dudes pushed me ta' my limit. Try 'em. Take some ice cream or somthin' cold in a little container, so when ya' leave, ya'll have somthin' ta' keep yer mouth cool fer th' ride home, til ya' cn' get ta' a faucet.

th' cap't

P.S. Wings aren't really their speciality tho; I jus' happened ta' go with them. They gots grinders (odd fer a joint of that name eh? Go figure) salads, big burgers, pizzas, etc. y'know, stuff like that.

Damn! I hated ta' hear about HST earlier today. He has been one of my ten favorite authors of th' last 30+ years. I loved his balls-ta'-th' wall style. Nothin' half-assed 'bout him; it wuz always Red line, Max It Out, Full-Tilt Boogie straight ahead!! So, I'm rilly surprised that he took his own self outta th' Game! Never thought it woulda' happened that way. Of course it was just a matter of time before Coach took him out cuz we all get yanked sooner or later, eh! Y'know, eventually we all gotta' do th' Dirty Bop with th' Grim Reaper, but this play took me by surprise. It's confusin' ta' me and I don't unnerstan'!

Of course, everybody's got their Demons; we all do y'know, and he never made a secret of his. In fact he shared them with us fer years; they became familiar characters in his writings, but I jus' never thought he would let his get the best of 'im.

"Fear and Loathing on th' Other Side."

Too bad this is one story we won't be gettin' from th' Doctor, eh? It woulda' been a doozey I'll bet! Can ya' dig Hunter poppin', smokin', snortin', shootin'. gulpin' everythin' in sight while alla' time babblin' ta' us 'bout whut wuz goin' down! Now THAT woulda' been a Good Read!

Gonna' miss his Rantings and Ravings......cuz I could always Relate ta' 'em!!

th' cap't

Man, I jus' had a close call. Jus' minutes ago. I'm still a bit shaky and tryin' ta' calm myself down after this near calamity. See, like, my printer wuzn't printin' properly, so I had removed th' ink cartridge and I wuz holdin' it in my left hand while readin' th' manual tryin' ta figure out whut wuz wrong and fortunately I jus' happened ta' read this under, INK CARTRIDGE PRECAUTIONS

"WARNING: Keep ink cartridges out of the reach of children and do not drink the ink."

Well, I say fortunately cuz without thinkin' too much about it I had raised that cartridge up ta' my lips and wuz jus' about ta' take a big ol swig outta' that thing, and I read that, and I Froze! And I slowly and carefully lowered my hand inch by inch.. Whew! Man that wuz close, ya' know whut I mean?

Sheeit, they shoulda' oughta' put that warning in BIG BOLD LETTERS on page ONE!! y'know, instead of burying it on page 30! Whut if I hadn't seen that in time and chug-a-lugged th' whole thing? I don't even like ta' think about whut effect that woulda' had on my internal systems! Hey, and not only wuz it lucky fer me that I didn't go chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug, but fer the folks at Epsom too, cuz ese, I woulda' sued their asses off inta' next week!!

Ya 'may go, "Oh pshaw! Why waste yer time? Ya'd never win that one!", but ya' never know. Lissen' here, a guy in Oklahoma won a lawsuit against the Winnebago company cuz on his way home from an OU game he set th' cruise control on 70 and then got up and stepped inta' th' back ta' make himself a cup a coffee. Ha ha. I'm not smokin' ya'!

Well as ya' might imagine, th' damn thing proceeded ta' drift right off th' road and crashed!! He sued 'em sayin' they should have told him in th' owner's manual that ya' couldn't actually do this. So naturally, a jury awarded him $1,750,000 and gave him a new Winnebago ta' boot. Thas' alotta' of jack ta' get paid fer bein' monumentally stoopid, eh!

This case came in th' Stella Awards at # One. Th' Stellas are given ta' th' most successful frivilous lawsuits in th' US. They're named after Sella Liebeck who successfully sued McDoanald’s a few years ago over th' hot spilled coffee in her lap.

Only in Amerika!! Ha ha

th' cap't

My buddy, Mike G. sent this ta' me about my recent reference ta' th' Hokey Pokey.

"Yo, cap't, speaking of the hoky poky, did you know that the creator of Hoky Poky, Phil Schester, died recently. They had a hell of a time burying him because when they were putting him in the casket, they put his right leg in and he put his right leg out, so then they tried putting his left leg in but he put his left leg out and shook it al about.

They finally closed the casket under force. It was quite an event."

Thanks for that informative and illuminating bit of info Mike. I rather enjoy those stories behind th' scene we are not ordinarily privy to.

th' cap't

P.S. I jus' hope Mr. Schester is able ta' Rest in Peace.

This is from my friend Katia and as she said, "This is a good one."

Q: How many Bush Administration officials does it take to change a light bulb?

A: None. There is nothing wrong with the light bulb; its condition is improving every day. Any reports of its lack of incandescence in the War Against Darkness are illusionary spin from the liberal media. Illuminating rooms is hard work.

That light bulb has served honorably, and anything you say undermines the lighting effort.

Why do you hate freedom?

A few nites ago, I wuz sittin' in Mike's tavern down there on yer Troost avenue, knockin' back a few cold ones. It wuz crowded and noisy. Th' bartender wuz standin' in front of me and I thought he said somthin' ta' me so I said in my best Travis Bikel style,

"Are YOU talkin' ta' ME?"

and he said, "Nah, I wuzn't talkin ta you!" and I said,

"Are ya' sure? Cuz it looked like ya' were talkin' ta' ME!"

And he took a drink order from some peoples standin' behind me and chuckled and said, "Everything's not always about you Charley!"

And I said, "Thas' where yer wrong my friend, cuz It's always All about ME, ME, ME! Emphasis on th' ME, ya' dig!"

These young peoples! Where do they get their quaint, naive notions? Ha ha.

So like, early this morn I'm down there in yer Plazah finishin' th evening up at Otts. I'm rappin' with th' bartender. I'm tellin' him how I can't get th' hood open on MY Mustang. I'm tellin' him about th' construction goin' on across th' street from ME that they started at four o'clock in th' fuckin' morning. I'm complainin' bout how MY beer is “off'.” I'm bitchin' bout this, that and th' other and when I paused to catch my breath he starts tellin' me somthin' or other 'bout somthin' or other. I don't even remember now whut it wuz, but I hadta' interrupt him and I said,

"Hey whoa! OK? Hold on a second. Whut has that got ta' do with ME? I don't see th' connection? Am I missin' somthin' or whut?"

And he gave me a puzzled look and said, "Well ya' know, I wuz jus' tryin' ta' make conversation." And I said,

"Yeah I know, but looky here amigo, and lemme be brutally candid here, I'm rilly not interested in anythin' ya' might wanna' say, y'know, if it doesn't have anythin' ta' do with ME, ya' know whut I mean! See, like, whut yer rappin' 'bout is not connected ta' me in any way. A little bit of advice eh, like, whut ya' need ta' do before ya' say anythin' ta' me is ta' ask yerself th' question; give yer thought th' litmus test, 'does this have anything ta' do with th' Cap't'? Is there a connection ta' him?' and if th' answer is 'No", then save us both some time. That way yer not jus' pissin' inta' th' wind and I don't gotta sit here and act
like I'm listenin', see whut I mean. That way it works out fer both of us?"

And so he sez, "OK, lemme get this straight; I'm not supposed ta' talk ta ya' unless I'm talkin' ABOUT ya', or else maybe somthin that's related ta' ya' in some kinda' way? But there's gotta be related ta you in some way, eh?"

I said, "Thas' right my man, now yer catchin' on! Like, ya' can sympathise with ME bout some sad tale of woe I might be layin' on ya', or ya' can congratulate ME on somthin' I've done, or mebbe might do in th' future, or ya' can even make up stuff if ya' have'ta, jus' ta' keep th' conversation flowin', as long as it's all good, positive things'; and of course, all 'bout ME. Th' main thing I'm tryin' ta' get across here see, and at th' risk of bein' redundant, is that it's all about ME, ya' dig!"

And he said, "Yeah OK cap'm, yeah I pretty much think I know where yer comin' from!"

And I said, "Hey COOL! So. whut were ya' sayin' before I interrupted ya?"

And he said, "Aw nevermind, I forgot. It wuzn't important anyway."

And I grinned inwardly and said, "Hey, did I ever tell ya' bout that time I .......................?"
(and th' drone goes on)

th cap't

P.S. Ok once again, boyz and gurlz, whut's it all about? and I'll give ya a clue; in spite of whut ya' may have heard; it ain't th' hokey pokey!

While this is not a knee slapper, I thought it wuz kinda funny.

Three gurls get together. They have all three just finished reading Moby Dick and are discussing it.

The brunette sez, "You know, it's not really about the whale."

The redhead sez, "Are you kidding? You mean, it's not about the whale???"

The blond sez, "What whale???"
(snicker, chortle here)

th' cap't

Well, I read in th' paper today where cooler more common-sensical heads prevailed in Virginia and defeated th' bill ta' prosecute peoples whose underwear is visible ta th' naked eye. (There's somthin' bout that phrase, "th' naked eye" that seems just a bit salacious, don'cha think? some body oughta' "look" inta that)

Damn! That kinda bugs me cuz that eliminates a real nice target fer some “mock and ridicule.” Well, at least there's still th' Kansas Board of Education ta' fall back on. They can always provide plenty of grist fer th' “Mock and Ridicule Mill.”

Y'know, speakin' of those Loons, th' Kansas ones I mean, got me ta' thinkin'. Like, whut's th' position of th' Jewish peoples when it comes ta' th' origin of Human Beings? Bein' major proponents of th' Old Testament, do they adhere ta' th' view that we all arose from Adam and Eve and that th' world, and th' rest of th' Universe, was created in six days? Or do they consider those as fables, not ta' be taken literally? Is there an official Jewish stand? Or is it up ta' each individual ta' decide fer one's self?

How about Muslim peoples? Like, whut do they think? Do they believe in Evolution, a la Darwin, or do they believe in some kind of Intelligent Designer (a k a Allah) type explanation?

Are young peoples thru out Europe, including places like predominantly Catholic Italy, taught Evolution, as opposed ta' a Biblical explanation?

Whut about th' Japanese? Th' Chinese? Do they think we're jus' a bunch of advanced Simians? Jus' curious.

th' cap't

I saw a neat bumper sticker today. It said,

Who would Jesus bomb?

th' cap't

Did'ja happen ta' see in th' paper a couple of days ago where in th' Commonwealth of Virginia, they have passed a law making it an offense punishable by a 50 dollar fine fer yer underwear ta' be exposed? Are those peoples fucking Insane? I mean, when I first read this, I thought, "Oh no, here we go again! Those Kansans, Ha ha. This sounds like somthin' straight outta' Topeka!"

But then I wuz relieved ta' see this came from Virginia. Obviously, Kansas has no monopoly on kooks.

Whut in th' hell are those peoples thinkin'? They would make even th' Taliban Mullahs proud! I'm wonderin' if this bill sent a collective shudder thru th' ranks of th' Plumbers of Virginia? But wait, th' bill is about exposed underwear; come ta' think of it, this bill may not affect them at all, cuz it's about underwear, not cracks.

Course we know exactly who this bill is aimed at; th' young brothas' boppin down th' avenue with their big baggy pants jus' barely hangin' on, a look that I've always thought wuz as Comical as it wuz Ridiculous. Don'cha know that in twenty years when those peoples look back on that and see pictures of themselves “back then” that they will cringe with embarrassment. Might be why ya' don't see many brothas wearin giant Afros today, huh? But whut th' hell, I wore long hair and tye-dyed shirts and a headband fer twenty years, so I can't get too down on other peoples absurd modes of dress, ya' know whut I mean!

I'm also wonderin' if this law is gonna' be enforced at th' malls where a diligent officer could apprehend a whole buncha' perps on any given day amongst th' thong laden teenage gurls there. Man, he could easily make quota in an hour.

Maybe some body could do a TV series "The THONG PATROL"

Announcers voice: "The gripping stories of the courageous men and women who put their lives on th' line every day in the ongoing War to keep Amerika safe from the forces of Bad Taste and Immorality.

Opening scene at the shopping mall: A young gurl approaches the jewelry counter and pauses and leans over the counter. Immediately a large burly man taps her on the shoulder and flashes a badge.

FUCU Agent Silewski: "Aw'right! Hold it right there Missy, I'm undercover Special Agent Silewski with the Felonious Underwear Criminal Unit (a k a FUC-U) and you're under arrest for violation of th' Commonwealth of Virginia code # 314, to wit, did go about in a public place with underwear clearly visible to the naked eye."

Allisyn: "Omigod! Omigod! Like, Oh officer. Please don't like, tell my parents. Omigod, like my life is waaay ruined! Like, Omigod!! Boo hoo hoo."

FUCU Agent Silewski: "You should have thought about that before you left the house dressed like that, shouldn't you young lady?"

(Agent Silewski handcuffs th' perp and walks her outside. Here, sounds of siren wailing as th' paddy wagon approaches and screeches ta' a stop)

FUCU Agent Silewski to the driver: "Got another one fer ya' Hank."

HANK: "Sheesh, ya'd think these kids would learn, wouldn't ya?"

As Officer Hank pulls away, from inside th' paddy wagon we can hear Allisyn's pitiful crying and wailing as th' enormity of her plight sinks in and she is led off ta' face th' consequences of a Bad Decision. We see a close-up of Special Agent Silewski's weather beaten face as he watches th' paddy wagon fade off inta' th' distance as he shakes his head slowly back and forth at th' tragedy of another young life doomed because of a kid who wouldn't listen.

Well anyway, besides all that, I'm thinkin' th' major drawback on this bill tho might be th' manpower and resources that will need ta' be diverted from other equally important areas, like th' War on Drugs and the War on Terrorism fr'instance, cuz after all, whose gonna' man, (scuuuse me) I mean, whose gonna' Staff these Thong Patrols? They will obviously have ta' train an Elite Unit ta' handle it.

It seems ta' me that those Virginians, in their haste ta' protect th' Commonwealth citizens, left a serious gap tho. Far thinkin' tho they may be, they didn't actually go far enuff. Like, hey, whut about exposed bra straps? Huh? Whut about that? And then, some gurls, y'know, wear outfits where ya' can actually see the bras themselves. Whooo! Some body needs a' address that issue too, don'cha think? And th' sooner, th' better.

I think we can lay a lot of this increased awareness of public decency right on Janet Jackson and her right boob. We prolly should thank her fer openin' our eyes, cuz she released th' floodgates of outrage with her shameless behavior at th' Super Bowl last year. Tsk, Tsk.

There is jus' no calculatin' th' long term damage she inflicted on millions of our innocent and impressionable youth. I mean, ther's nothin' wrong with our young children watchin' coroners on th' many CSI shows workin' on cadavers whose heads have been turned inta' unrecognizable mush, or th' remains of bodies that have been burned ta' a crisp, or decapitated torsos, or other similar stuff like that; no big deal, thas' educational; whut we don't want, is fer 'em ta' see some underwear fer chriisake!!, or GASP, God forbid, a boob!! Th' Horror! Th' Horror!!!

th' cap'm

P.S. It's a strange place we live in ihn't it boyz and gurlz?

My friend Harlene sent me this challenge.

This is jus' another another little exercise you might try, ta' get yer Boss ta' notice you more. Have th' rest of th' peoples in th' office participate and try this with you. Let yer Boss act as de' Judge in determining if anyone can accomplish th' goal. Give that person th' rest of th' afternoon off. Yer Boss will appreciate yer efforts ta' increase employee morale with these daily events you organise.
How Smart is Your Right Foot?

1.OK. While sitting at your desk, lift your right foot off the floor and make clockwise circles.

2. Now, while doing this, draw the number "6" in the air with your right hand (or on paper). See if ya' can do this without yer foot changing direction. If so, you win!

Remember, th' winner gets th' rest of th' afternoon off. Don't put any time limits on it. Let peoples try just as long as they need. Once again, yer Boss will take note of yer initiative in tryin' ta' make yer workplace a fun place ta' be, thus boosting performance among th' employees.

th' cap'm

You're at work. The day is ending. You're bored. So try this riddle ta' pass some time, and if ya' can't quite get yer finger on it, ask yer boss ta' help. I'm sure he won't mind. He's prolly as bored as you.

OK, so here it is: If the day before the day after tomorrow will be Saturday. And the day after the day before yesterday was Thursday...so what day is today?

th' cap'm

So...today, Fat Tuesday arrives on th' heels of a snowstorm. GOOD!

Normally I don't welcome weather such as this, normally this kind of weather would bum me out, but in this scenario, MAYBE it will discourage some of th' neophytes and th' amateurs who celebrate these kind of affairs from leavin' their cribs tonight, thereby leavin' th' drinking ta' us professionals.

Fuck a buncha' beads and a buncha' nonsense, it's Tuesday nite and that's reason enuff ta' get drunk.

th' cap't

It never fails ta' amuse me th' reaction I get from some peoples anytime. I mention mixin' peanut butter and syrup together. This stuff is Good, I'm tellin' ya'!! But, judgin' from some reactions, ya' would think I had jus' suggested some maggots and mayonnaise or somthin'!

After all, most peoples like peanut butter, and, most peoples like syrup, and th' two together, make fer a very tasty combination. Great fer draggin' yer bacon or sausage thru durin' breakfast. Ditto yer hot buttered toast.

Look here, th' guts of a lotta' candy bars feature somthin' very similar, and yet peoples don't react with dismay retch at th' thought. Sheeit, throw in some chocolate and some nuts and ya' got a basic, generic candy bar. So, whut exactly is it thas' so off-puttin' ta' peoples?

I mentioned some time ago a late nite snack favorite of mine featurin' some chocolate chip ice cream and some grilled sausage. I like bitin' inta' that hot sausage and havin' th' hot grease splatter about th' inside of yer mouth, and then a big spoonful (always use a spoon instead of a fork fer ice cream) of some cold, sweet, smooth ice cream ta' counter-balance it, and th' general reaction I got wuz, "Ugh!" and, "Yecch!" Once again, ?????? I don't unnerstan'?

So, I counter with, "Have'ya ever had a milk shake while eatin' a hot dog?"

And most peoples will answer in th' affirmative. "Well, sure, who hasn't?" So, whut, pray tell, is th' difference?

th' cap'm

P.S. Sometimes it's not easy playin' th' Seer/Visionary Role. Castin' Light out inta' th' Darkness, seeking ta' Illuminate th' Ignorant Masses. Ya' know whut I mean? And, I cn' tell ya', it's a thankless fuckin' bit on top of everything else!

Like, Ho-hum. Big fuckin' deal! Jus' another one of those "rookie nights" when all th' amateurs come out and get in our way with their loud, boistrous, obnoxious juvenile drunken behavior! Sigh

th cap't

Last nite I wuz rappin' with a gurl I know. I'm sayin', "So.....where you been? I haven't seen ya' around fer a while."

And she sez, "Well, I jus' been takin' it a bit easy, y'know. Haven't been goin' out much lately. When I wuz younger, like, when I wuz twenty and stuff, I could party alla' time, but now that I've gotten older, I jus' can't do it anymore."

She's 24 now. Ha ha. See, thas' whut happens when ya' get older; ya' mature and yer priorities change. I jus' hope it never happens ta' me. It's bad enuff I quit smokin' after goin' at 'em fer 48 years. I can't imagine not gettin' on my stool every evening.

th' cap'm

(My buddy Sally sent this ta' me)

Yesterday was Groundhog Day and the State of the Union Address.

As Air America Radio pointed out, it is an ironic juxtaposition: One involves a meaningless ritual in which we look to a creature of very limited intelligence for prognostication.......

and the other involves a groundhog.

th' cap't

Wouldn't this make a nice lookin' warehouse for yer industrial park boyz and gurlz? Unfortunately th' actual building doesn't look quite as "good" as th' drawing. and it doesn't look none too fookin' good itself, does it?

Oh, Kansas City. We wring our hands and gnash our teeth when other peoples refer ta' us as a "cowtown",

"Why, oh why do they call us that?"

It jus' seems sooo unfair.....but hey, y'know, some slickster from New Yawk City rode inta' town one day, took one look around, made us fer a bunch yokels and hayseeds, and promptly sold us this design fer a warehouse fer a couple hunnert million, and tole th' peoples it would make a great addition ta' our Art Gallery, th' whole time tryin' ta' keep from crackin' up. And every body wuz afraid ta' tell th' Emperor 'bout his lack of clothes.

Course, ya' gotta remember, we are also th' same peoples who turned down Frank Gehry, WORLD RENOWNED ARCHITECT, known for his innovative and spectacular designs, in favor of some locals.

"Heck, whadda' we need a fancy-schmancy guy like thet fer? We got us some darned tootin' good archeetects right here in good ol KC."

Get along little doggies.

th' cap't

go to http://www.nelson-atkins.org/museum_expansion/expansion_intro/index.htm ta' get a glimpse of whut we're gettin' fer our 200 mil

I wuz sittin' in my car over at Loose park earlier, takin' advantage of th' spring-like weather, readin' th' paper, when I noticed a gaggle of gooses flyin' towards me. They were in formation headin' straight in my direction. Somthin' didn't seem quite right but I couldn't put my finger on it, but somthin' jus' didn't add up. Then, suddenly, it hit me! These dumb gooses were flyin' back North, fr'chriisake.

I leaped outta' my car and wuz wavin' my arms back and forth, jumpin' up and down, tryin' ta' get their attention and I shrieked out, "GO BACK! GO BACK! It's a trick. Winter's not over yet.Turn around. Go back!!"

And not only did they jus' completely ignore me, but th' Leader of th' Pack dropped a load as they flew right over me honkin' and squawkin' and makin' a commotion!! Sunuvabitch. Fortunately I wuz able ta' avoid his package. I shook my fist and angrily yelled at 'em,

"You'll be sorry ya' fuckin' sorry-ass buncha' Honkers. Jus' wait and see!!"

Some joggers and sports walkers, doin' their thing there, gave me some funny looks as they trotted by, but hey, who cares? I mean, after all, they're joggers.....Ha ha. and sports walkers. once again, Ha ha. How serious cn' ya' take such critters? Ya' know whut I mean? Whut more need I say 'bout that?

And those fuckin' Ingrate Bastard Gooses! Ihn't that typical tho in this day and age; ya' try ta' be helpful; and whadda'ya get in return fer yer troubles; thas' right, they try and shit on ya'! sigh. I jus' wish I'd had a sawed-off handy, cuz I woulda' taught that gander a thing or two 'bout Etiquette and showin' some Respect. This group wuz certainly no credit ta' th' Avian Community by and large. And then, they wonder why we hunt 'em?

It would serve them right, if upon returnin' home, th' very first nite, th' worst blizzard in th' past century engulfed 'em, freezin' their goose asses solid ta' th' lake. Mebbe they would have turned on th' boss and said,

"Ya' dumb Fuck. A fine mess ya've got us inta' this time. Ya' shoulda' listened ta' that dude back in Kansas City! But noooooo......guess he wuzn't so fuckin' crazy after all, eh!"

th' cap't

P.S. OK boyz and gurlz, let this be a lesson ta' ya; watch out fer that Mother Nature Bitch. Don't let her fool ya', cuz She likes ta' play these games around this time of year.

In the last few days I've read some pretty uncomplimentary things about the new addition to the Nelson Art Gallery. So, I decided to check it out my self.

My initial response was one of disappointment because I couldn't see the building because of a huge construction site storage bunker obstructing the view. Then I recalled that that was a description I had read earlier of the building itself. That was a right-on description.

Whew! You talk about Ugly? This thing is a Monstrosity! The only redeeming quality of it was that it only cost two hundred million bucks. It's a good thing they didn't decide to spend five hundred. I dread to think what that might have looked like. This joint makes the new Plaza Library, plenty ugly enough in it's own right, look positively beautiful in comparison. Really, it looks like a huge, windowless, oddly shaped, warehouse. They claim that siding is glass, but if some body didn't tell you that, you would assume it is nothing but tin siding. You would prolly say to them, "Oh c'mon, gimme a break will'ya'? I know tin siding when iI see it!!"

I think some one ought to look behind the scenes to see if if the peoples who approved this butt-ugly of ugly buildings aren't all related to the architect. Or maybe find out if they all aren't driving brand new Mercedes all of a sudden. Or else maybe just find out if they all aren't just deranged. That would go a long way towards an explanation. Something's not right here boyz and gurlz.

In response to what seems to be universal criticism of their 'vision' they claim that they are being unfairly criticized before it's even completed. They say when all is finally said and done, when peoples see it completely finished, with the landscaping and everything in place, that they will be delighted and thrilled. I suppose that's possible..... but I'm thinking the only way the landscaping would help, would be if they planted huge and many trees surrounding the place so you couldn't actually see it. That would definitely be an improvement!

Drive by some time. Take a look for yourself. See what you think?

th' cap't

P.S. It's as big a_____ as you think it is. Thanks Kansas.

A few years ago I read a movie review which said,"features full frontal and backal nudity"

Hmmmm

th' cap't

(My friend Harlene sent this to me. it's good and will prolly make ya' laugh or at least chuckle a bit. th' cap't)

When President George H.W. Bush awarded Johnny Carson the Presidential Medal of Freedom (the country's highest civilian honor), the citation Bush uttered was, "With decency and style he's made America laugh and think."

Not just laugh: laugh and think.

There is no better example of this than a 1991 piece Johnny delivered on The Tonight Show with the band playing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" in the background. The Berlin Wall had fallen two years before, and now the Soviet Union was coming unglued.
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"What Democracy Means to Me"
by Johnny Carson

To me, democracy means placing trust in the little guy, giving the fruits of nationhood to those who built the nation.

Democracy means anyone can grow up to be president, and anyone who doesn't grow up can be vice president.

Democracy is people of all races, colors, and creeds united by a single dream: to get rich and move to the suburbs away from people of all races, colors, and creeds.

Democracy is having time set aside to worship — 18 years if you're Jim Bakker.

Democracy is buying a big house you can't afford with money you don't have to impress people you wish were dead.

And, unlike communism, democracy does not mean having just one ineffective political party; it means having two ineffective political parties.

Democracy means freedom of sexual choice between any two consenting adults; Utopia means freedom of choice between three or more consenting adults. But I digress.

Democracy is welcoming people from other lands, and giving them something to hold onto — usually a mop or a leaf blower.

It means that with proper timing and scrupulous bookkeeping, anyone can die owing the government a huge amount of money.

Democracy means a thriving heartland with rolling fields of Alfalfa, Buckwheat, Spanky, and Wheezer.

Democracy means our elected officials bow to the will of the people, but more often they bow to the big butts of campaign contributors.

Yes, democracy means fighting every day for what you deserve, and fighting even harder to keep other weaker people from getting what they deserve.

Democracy means never having the Secret Police show up at your door. Of course, it also means never having the cable guy show up at your door. It's a tradeoff.

Democracy means free television. Not good television, but free.

Democracy is being able to pick up the phone and, within a minute, be talking to anyone in the country, and, within two minutes, be interrupted by call waiting.

Democracy means no taxation without representation, and god knows, we've just about had the hell represented out of us.

It means the freedom to bear arms so you can blow the "o" out of any rural stop sign you want.

And finally, democracy is the eagle on the back of a dollar bill, with 13 arrows in one claw, 13 leaves on a branch, 13 tail feathers, and 13 stars over its head.

This signifies that when the white man came to this country, it was bad luck for the Indians, bad luck for the trees, bad luck for the wildlife, and lights out for the American eagle. I thank you.

(I always liked Johnny.)

Hey, I don't care what anyone says, you guys are great. I want you all to know that you provide the rest of us, and by that, I mean any one who is not from Kansas, with plenty of amusement, and for that, you're to be commended. There are too few sources of humor in this world today, and we'll take some where ever we can find it.

Like, the thing with Evolution. Once again. Oh my. What a treat! And you just don't give up either do you! It's like the guest who just won't leave. Ha ha. Priceless. No sireeee.

You guys are the proud buckle in the Bible Belt, and hey, look here, don't try and let any upstart crackers from Georgia or Alabama try and take that away from you. You earned it, and by golly, you deserve that accolade, with your book bannings, and your zany ideas on the Beginning of it All, and your stands on abortion and gay marriage and your Rev. Phelps and your general Kansas mind-set.

By “Kansas mind-set,” I mean, we can't just give credit to a few of you, because. after all, we can't ignore the contributions of every day, ordinary Kansas citizens whose ideas and philosophies fuel the rhetorical engines of your leaders.

Every day I keep expecting to read in the paper where your inimitable Board of Education, oh they are a delight, has decided to introduce "The Stork" in your sex education courses. There's no good reason for your young peoples there out on the plains to get their heads all muddled with a lot of nasty diagrams of penises and vaginas and stuff like that. Eeew.

We love ya'! OK! So, keep it up. But do us a favor will'ya? Just keep it in Kansas though, OK, cause, like, we'd rather admire you from a distance, if that's alright with you. Thanks, you're the Best.

th' cap't

"KANSAS: AS BIG AS YOU THINK"

You know, that new slogan of yours, "as big as you think" got me to thinking, (hey it works) and I'm thinking....."how much bigger...........?" Oh well, never mind. Ha ha forget I even almost
mentioned it. haha. Never mind.

See, I didn't really understand the need for a new slogan. You let some PR peoples come in and bamboozle you with their East Coast mumbo-jumbo hype. I always thought,

"KANSAS: AS FLAT AS A PANCAKE"

Was about as honest, straightforward, down home, and to the point as you could get. All good Kansan attributes. And hey, there's nothing wrong with being compared to a pancake. It's a helluva lot better than a cowchip', eh? And like, pancakes are good! They're wholesome! They're as American as apple pie. Know what I'm sayin'? So, lkie, what's to get defensive about?