Last night I'm sittin there in th' saloon. It's dark and smoky andthere's a band playin' rilly loud. I happened ta' notice this dude sittin' a couple of stools away and he's leanin' with his nose jus' inches away from th' bar and he's writin' somethin'. I thought he wuz workin' a crossword puzzle.

I glanced over in his direction a few minutes later and I now see he's got a brush in his hand and he's workin' with some water colors! Ha ha. Th' dude is creatin' a work of Art right there in th' saloon!!

I know this clown mus' be sittin' there thinkin' how cool he is, and how every one else mus' be thinkin' th' same thing....y'know, look there! th' young Artist..... Creating a Work of Art in a bar, no less, oblivious ta' th' noise and chaos all around him, concentratin' on his Art! Obviously, one very cool, hip character, eh!

While I wuz watchin' him, he got a phone call. So now he's holdin' th' phone in his left hand up ta' his right ear and is continuing ta' do his brushwork with his right hand. I thought he might put his brush down fer a sec, y'know, but noooooo, he can't be interrupted. There are no Higher Priorities than th' Art, ya' dig!. So, he wuz rappin' and doin' his 'art thing' at th' same time.

He wuz on th' phone fer at least 35-40 minutes. When he finally got off th' phone, he got up ta' go ta' th' bathroom and so, outta' curiosity, I stepped over ta' check out his creation. I stepped back over ta' my stool chucklin' and shakin' my head in wonderment. Ha ha. All I can say is.... th' next time this dude gets a call while he's workin' on his Art, he needs ta' call his party back later, cuz like, this dude don't need no distractions while he's workin'! Nah, cuz like, whut he had created there looked like somthin' yer kindergartener might bring home from school. After a couple obligatory "Oooohs" and "Ahhhhs" and a day on th' refrigerator it would find it's rightful place in th' trash can. But, I'm sure he would disagree. He prolly found th' conversation inspirational. Artists!!!

th' cap't

P.S. Ya' already know how I feel bout cell phones and drivin'! Now this guy has got me thinkin' bout cell phones and Artists. I got ta' thinkin' bout how if Vincent had had a cell phone there in Arles, interruptin' him alla' time. Workin' in that hot searing sun all afternoon, in th' middle of a golden wheat field, bad hangover from all th' absinthe from th' previous evenin', talkin' ta' Theo, with th' huge crows, flyin' and squawkin' about goin',

"Hey yo Theo, I'm tryin' ta' work here!! How bout givin' me a little slack, huh? It's hard fer me ta' be creatin' masterpieces when yer callin' every ten minutes! I lose my concentration"

And I'm wonderin' whut effect it mighta' had on his oeuvre?

This cliche is every where. It started no doubt in horror/mystery movies, but now ya' can't get away from it.

Th' scene: A shot of th' full moon with some clouds passin' in front of it.

Think about it! Ya've seen that scene hundreds of times. Now one can understand it's place in certain genres where it's supposed ta' invoke a sense of dread, or fear, or mystery, or suspense, y'know, somthin' like that. All directors of such material continue ta' use it even tho it's been done ta' death, and then again some!! Over and over ad nauseum. But, no matter. Ya' jus' can't get away from it.
Watch any CSI. Any episode of Survivor will have at least three shots of it. Same with Amazing Race.

But then, you will see this in th' most unexpected places. I can't believe how many times I've been watchin' some show, and it could be any damn thing, and all of a sudden, there's this brief shot of th' full moon and it has absolutely nothin' whut-so-ever ta' do with any thing that's goin' on. And I'm wonderin',

"Why in th' fuck did they jus' show a shot of th' full moon with clouds passin' by partially obscurin' it?"

If ya' pay attention you will even see this scene in sit-coms fer some unfathomable reason. I mean, it's like a director says ta' some body,

"Hey, this here would be a good place ta' put that moon shot in."

And one of his assistants goes, "But Sid, this is a scene where Joey loses an important phone number."

"I don't give a shit. Jus give me th' godam full moon shot!"

"OK. OK. Take it easy, will'ya! Hey boss, ya' want passin' clouds with that, or whut?"

OK boyz and gurlz, keep yer eyes peeled and watch fer it. Ya' gotta pay attention now, cuz ya've seen it so many times, it hardly even registers. It flashes on and ya' don't even think about it, but next time ya' see it ask yerself,

"Why did they jus' show me a picture of th' full moon? Whut does it mean?"

th' cap't

Our Kansas City Royals, as ya' may have heard else where, are th' worst team in baseball. How then ta' explain a sweep of th' Yankees and winnin' th' first game with Texas.

If ya' count 'em up; thas FOUR in a row! This is roughly th' equivalent of turning water inta' wine. And a wine with a bold, audacious nose ta' boot!

Last nite, a “gurl-type” friend of mine suggested that this was perhaps only th' beginnin; that they could possibly make th' playoffs. OK, boyz and gurlz, this is where we do a loud, prolonged, major GUFFAW. Y'know,th' kind thas' get ya' holdin' yer stomach.

I don't know whether they won their game this afternoon or not, but if they did, th' World Series is not outta' th' picture; at least ta' some peoples. Yeah, right! We might as well talk about Democracy in Iraq. And speakin' of Iraq, if they ever should attain Democracy there, there won't be anyone left ta' enjoy it. (sorry, got sidetracked there)

Th' cap't, part time sports guru at large, PREDICTS,

AT TH' END OF TH' SEASON, TH' ROYALS WILL STILL BE TH' WORST TEAM IN BASEBALL

And ya' know why? Cuz...THEY'RE TH' WORST TEAM IN BASEBALL, thas' why!!!

Sorry boyz and gurlz, I know thas' not whut ya' wanted ta' hear, but thas' whut th' chicken entrails said. And who am I ta' dispute th' immutable Laws of Nature! Fer further confirmation, take a sharp right at th' Fold in th' Time Warp and ya'll see whut I'm sayin'.

Th' sometimes Sports Sage, th' cap't

A conversation I had a couple of days ago with an elderly lady I drive about, on th' way ta' th' beauty salon.

Her: "There's a man in my apartment building who is a yogurt expert."

Me: "Oh really."

Her: "Yes, he even teaches classes right there in th' building."

Me: "In yogurt? I'll be darned."

Her: "My sister said I should enroll, but at my age I don't think so."

Me: "Well, I wouldn't think age would have much to do with it. It's never too late ta' learn."

Her: "There's no way I could twist these old bones around like a pretzel. I'd break." (This is where th' flash went off in my head. Y'know, th' breakthru ta' understanding.)

Me: "Well, there are some kinds of Yoga which older peoples Can do."

Her: “Oh my gosh. Did you say ‘Yoga?’” Goodness gracious! Some how I knew yogurt didn't sound quite right."

And we both chuckled and chortled over that. When we arrived at th' salon, I helped her outta' th' car and I told her I could pick up a carton of raspberry yoga fer a little snack later on and she said, "Oh you!"

And we did “Take Two” of th' chuckling scene.

th' cap't

Hey ya'll, I'm wonderin' if ya' could help me out. I'm tryin' ta' get a message ta' a friend of mine, but I'm havin' a bit of difficulty.

Th' last I heard, he wuz in South Africa, Johannesburg, I believe. He's a kinda tall, rangy dude, mebbe 6' 2-3" tall, and has black, kinda curly hair. He answers ta' th' name, "Kurt".

If ya' see him, jus' tell him th' cap't said, "Yo, Kurt."

Thanks fer yur help. I knew I could count on ya'!

th' cap't

"CURSES! FOILED AGAIN!"

If yer an older individual, perhaps ya' remember th' Adventures of Mighty Mouse and recall "Oil Can Harry". He wuz Mighty Mouse's nemesis. He wuz a tall lanky cat who always sported a three-quarter length black coat and had a thin mustache that curled up at th' ends and he wuz always twistin' it jus' so.
He also wore a nice, shiny, black top hat. See, appearances were always important ta' "Oil Can".

Whutever disparagin' things ya' might say bout' "Oil Can Harry", and there wuz plenty, cuz he definitely wuz a naer-do-well, he wuz always sartorially splendid in his black threads, while goin' on about his nefarious business.

Harry y'see, had a nasty habit of tyin' Mitzi Mouse, who wuz Mighty Mouse's main squeeze, ta' th' railroad tracks. I don't remember jus' exactly why Harry felt th' compulsion ta' do this; maybe it wuz jus' his hobby or somthin? Who knows whut Evil lurks in th' hearts of cats, eh?

But, in any case, as a result of Harry's fixation on this, Mitzi spent a good portion of her time trussed up there on th' railroad tracks, while Harry lurked about behind a tree tweakin' th' ends of his mustache in anticipation of th' train and Mitzi's subsequent demise......but, invariably, at th' last second...... Mighty Mouse..... would swoop in, jus' in th' nick of time ta' save th' day, thus causin' Harry ta' shriek,

"CURSES. FOILED AGAIN!

th' cap't

P.S.Another favorite expression of mine is, "ZOUNDS". Mayhap, ya' recall DR. SIVANA, who wuz Captain Marvel's nemesis; HE used ta' say, "ZOUNDS!" as did I, in similar situations when Captain Marvel would disrupt our plans fer World Domination. Tho DR. SIVANA would have ridiculed Oil Can Harry's ambitions as rather limited and petty, when it came ta' "lookin' good", he wuz, as I recall, slovenly and unkempt in appearance. I don't think he ever put a comb ta' use, but whut th' hell, when ya' think about it, not such unusual behavior in a mad scientist, eh!?

Do ya' ever have someone tell ya' about a phone conversation they had and they make that “phone thing” by extendin' their thumb and little finger ta' simulate a phone? And then they recreate th' conversation by talkin' inta their 'phone'?! Thanks fer th' clue fuckhead, but thas' rilly not necessary.

Do these fuckin' peoples think we're not imaginative enuff ta' understand that they wuz talikin' on th' phone unless they do that stupid hand thing? C'mon!

I see so many guests on various talk shows who do this. Where did this mindless shit start any way? Didn't Bob Newhart used ta' do a comedy skit where he did that? Is he responsible fer all this? I'd be willin' ta' wager that these same peoples pack whack their cigarette packs too! Th' intelligence level strike me as about equal.

So, awright boyz and gurlz....don't do that th' next time yer relatin' a phone conversation ta' me ya' had. I don't know why exactly, but it bugs me. OK! Cuz, like, we, myself included, are perfectly capable of comprehendo th' scenario without th' visual clue.

So, knock it off.

th' cap't

Earlier today I wuz drivin' along and there wuz an SUV of some kind or another in front of me with some kinda sticker in th' rear window and I thought ta' myself,

"Hmmmm. I wonder? Does th' owner of this vehicle have any dogs, like, maybe, some Rhodesian Ridgebacks fr'instance? Or children perhaps? And if so, I wonder in any of 'em are on th Honor Role, or maybe in th' Boy Scouts? I wonder?"

So I speeded up a bit so I could get a closer look and, wonder of wonders, there wuz a sticker in th' rear window that said,

"I send my son and my money to Tulane University in New Orleans."

And even tho I din't know whether his spawn wuz on th' Honor Role and whether he wuz proud of 'im or anything like that, at least I knew whut college his son attended, and so naturally, I felt a lot better about th' state of th World. And of course th' manner in which he conveyed that info wuz jus' sooo fuckin' cute, don'cha think?

I jus' wish there wuz some way I could get on their XMas mailing list and receive their annual progress report as parents, and as Humans. With some pics of course. I love those long-winded four-page affairs where I can share every single fantastic feat each and every member in th' family has accomplished. I wanna' know about th' promotions, th' new cars, th' new house, th' vacations, th' grades of their incredibly intelligent children, th' Awards, th' business accolades..... I wanna' know it all.

Bumper stickers jus' leave me wantin' more!

th cap't

Jus' a few short years ago I shared my living quarters with many, many cucarachas. I mean. a lotta' fuckin' roaches! They were everywhere! They were so bold and brazen with their numbers they didn't even scurry any more when I turned th' lights on, figurin' their odds of getting squashed were too small ta' bother with. They crawled across my face at night. Each day I woke, I had ta' discard th' carcasses of those unfortunates who I had rolled over on durin' th' night. I developed a deep-seated loathin' of th' fuckers. They acted as tho THEY were Lords of th' Manor; not me. As a result, I often had roaches on my mind.

At th' time I wuz thinkin' bout writin' a novel. It wuz goin' ta be about one cockroach in particular, a roach named Zoomer.

Zoomer had lived his entire life in my microwave oven. He had never been outside, all he knew wuz th' Chamber of Food, the giant Wheel of Life, where the gods provided all their food needs.

When the Light of Life came on, Las Cucarachas knew there was food coming soon. Th' foods were placed on th' Wheel of Plenty. No one knew why th' gods chose ta' provide sustenance for them in such a fashion; it wuz jus' understood that th' gods worked in mysterious ways.

When th' giant door clanged shut, and th' Wheel of Plenty began ta' rotate, huge chunks were magically torn from foods placed there, stickin' ta th' walls of th' chamber, where they were easily consumed when th' ringin' of th' Bell indicated they were ready.

It wuz a good Life. A roach really couldn't ask fer more. Th' warmth, th' security, th' inner chamber. But one day this roach, his friends called him Zoomer, had a strong inexplicable urge ta' see whut lay outside th' chamber. Zoomer has always had an adventurous aspect about him. He wuz dissatisfied with th' status quo. Zoomer wanted somethin' more. He wuzn't exactly sure jus' whut he felt wuz missin' cuz it wuzn't somethin' he could articulate, but there was a Void in his life. He felt a compulsive urge ta' go on a Quest, not unlike the dreamwalk of the aborigines called the “walkabout.”

So, finally decidin' ta' go, he bade farewell to his friends and family. Zoomer felt light hearted and giddy, and for th' first time in his life he had a sense of Freedom he had never experienced there in the security of the nest.

And so, off he went ta' see whut lay in th' world beyond! But this wuz not Zoomer's day. Th' gods in their mysterious workins had other plans fer him, cuz he had barely left th' confines of th' nest, havin' only takin' a few steps, when suddenly, he felt himself being propelled by
some unknown force, a force so strong he knew he wuz totally powerless.The next thing he knew he wuz fallin'. As a youth he had fallen off th' Great Wheel one time breakin' his right hindmost leg, but he had never experienced anything like this before.

He didn't think he wuz ever going ta land. When suddenly, he landed with a hard thump. Zoomer knew immediately he had broken two more legs, but before he could even begin to flee, he saw a giant creature hovering over him, with huge glass shields over his eyes and he wuz holdin' in one claw, a huge chemical weapon of mass destruction, and before he wuz even able ta move he heard a terrible hissing sound. From th' stories and legends he had heard in th' past he knew he wuz in th' grasp of th' creature known as th' Cap't and he realised that he wuz in mortal danger.

As he breathed th' deadly fumes, he wuz unable ta' breathe, He felt as though he were on fire.He immediately flipped himself on ta' his back, as wuz th' custom among his kind, and frantically began gaspin' fer air while his legs were writhing uncontrollably. As he looked up he could see the giant looming over him and he heard a loud rumbling noise that sounded like,

"TAKE THAT YA' LITTLE MUTHERFUCKER!!"

and he knew there would be no mercy fer him. And he heard the horrible hissing sound again and he felt th' poisonous cloud envelope him and even as he felt his Life Force deserting him, his whole life flashed in front of his eyes.

And so, the book was goin' to be a 700 page James Joyce Thomas-Pynchonesque cockroachstreamofconscioness account of his life.

And as the book ended Zoomer felt a great sadness and jus' before th' final curtain of blackness completely engulfed him he had but one final thought, and it was this.

"Damn! I wish I'd stayed home today!"

But then, after thinkin' on it some, I changed my mind and decided ta' have a peanut butter sandwich instead. Fuck a book 'bout a fuckin' cockroach! One can always write novels, but a peanut butter sandwich is not to be put off. It simply isn't done Horace!

th'cap't

P.S. In th' place I live now, I have seen only one cockroach here in five years! My blood ran cold and my heart skipped a beat one drunken' mornin' when I detected movement on my kitchen table, where there shouldn't have been any. I suspect he wuz a scout for those I left
behind years ago, but I wuz able ta' dispatch him before he could tell others of his kind where I am living now. I worried fer weeks afterward. I know they would like ta' find me. For those of their ilk livin' with one who has th' habits I do, is like goin' ta Heaven. Sometimes I have nightmares that they have discovered where I moved to and I wake up
covered in sweat, and I go and turn lights on in th' kitchen dreadin' whut I'll see........but so far, I have escaped their clutches. But,knowin' th capriciousness of th' gods, who knows whut tomorrow may bring?

So, like, how in th' world did Any place in Kanasa come to be called Liberal?

th' cap't

P.S. I wonder if th' peoples there ever considered changin' their name ta' Conservative?

Hey ya'll, I've sent this pic before, but here's my favorite saloon and thas' my ‘50' Jag in front.

th' cap't

http://www.mikestavernkc.com/photos/DCP_2420.jpg

It wuz jus' last night, I wuz sittin' there in th' saloon, quietly quaffin' my brew, when th' clyde on my right started packin' his squares, then th' gurl on my left start packin' hers, and then some loon behind me....... yeah, same thing.

WACK, WACK, WACK, WHAM, WHAM, WHACK, WHAM

y'know, on and on and on. Sheeit! It wuz like Dolby Surround Cigarette Pack Wackin Sound. All around me. Man, gimme a Fuckin' break! Whut d'ya say?! This mindless shit drives me nuts. I'm afraid one of these evenings I'm gonna' lose it and as they say, "snap". I can see the headline now:

THE CAP'T GOES AMOK. WHACKS HEAD OFF CIGARETTE PACK WACKER.

Where can I go ta get away from these Assholes? Do peoples in other cities, states, countries do this sorta' thing? Or, are we jus' cursed here in our region with a plethora of fuckin' morons? My guess is that this prolly started in Kansas! That is one plausible explanation ta' me'. Blame it on Kansas, cuz, after all, these are peoples who if ya' knocked them up th' side of th' head with a full beer bottle, ya'd get a sound jus' like when ya' pop a bottle of Champagne. Y'know, like.... THOWK! But, of course! whut else? There's no gray matter there. Only a huge Black Void. Emptiness. Nada fuckin' thing! Or, as the eminent theoretical-physicist Roberto Duran put it.

"No Mass. No Mass."

Is there some country (Afghanistan, Uzbekistan perhaps) where the Cigarette Pack Wackin Po-Lice simply come up behind an Offender and summarily execute them right on the spot. Put a Black Talon right in the back of their heads, thus ridding society of one more fuckin' cretin, so that th' rest of us may continue ta' quaff our brews in peace and serenity. Book me a flight. Charter me a boat. Get me a bus/train ticket. Whut th' fuck, get me a map and I'll hitch hike. Lemme know!

The Capt.

P.S. Should you be one among those who have done this before, the above message is not about YOU. It's about those OTHER peoples. But, please.... do me a favor will'ya? Do NOT use yur cell phone when I am behind ya'!!!! I am currently writin' a ballad about such cell phone abusers and my relationship with them: It's called,

"BLOOD ON THE ROAD!"

My friend Mike G. sent this ta' me. Fer many peoples, playin' this would be akin ta' a chessmaster playin tic tac toe, but th' last video game I played wuz "pong". Ha ha, and that ain't no jive either. That woulda' been around 74' or so.

Since then, in th' last 30 years, I unnerstan' th' games have gotten more complicated, but fer a dinosaur like myself, this game pushes me ta' my video game limits. But hey, I'm gettin better! And havin FUN doin' so.

Check it out below, Click on "parachutes" and wait jus' a few secs fer it ta' load until it says,"Start game" and let 'er rip. Try and keep Daffy from goin' SPLAT!!

the cap't

http://www.bassfiles.net/parachute.swf

In our last episode, through th' Duckman's heroic actions, tragedy wuz averted.

Part Three:

As we stood there, amidst th' chaos and disarray, th' flour everywhere, th' smoke, th' ashes, with ever so tiny, wispy particles of somethin' or other fallin' all around us, like some kind of gentle black snow, I thanked him, on behalf of all th' peoples who live in th' Midtown area, fer we prolly would have all perished had he not intervened. My name, no doubt would have forever issued forth in th' same breath with that of Mrs. O'Leary's cow. Years later, peoples would still be talkin' bout Th' Great Conflagration that burned Kansas City to the ground as the result of a misguided attempt by Capt. Hoohah to warm up a donut. This is a legacy one would not aspire to!

The DUCKMAN accepted my gratitude and obsequious accolades with equanimity and good grace. And then, as though an afterthought, by way of makin' small conversation, he said to me,

"Y'know, my extremely keen duck sense of smell alerts me to some nuance of........... of..........I can't quite put my wing on it.......no............ no"

and then, after a moment of reflection, "I know... it smells like donut!"

"Well yes, how right you are sir."

I said, with a sheepish grin,

"See, I wuz in th' process of warmin' up a donut, y'know, just before ya' arrived. All of this is jus' a result of my efforts. Apparently, it seems I over did it. heh heh. Whut a waste, huh!"

"Perhaps!" he chortled "But, maybe not. Let's take a closer look."

And he pulled a small brush off his DUCK UTILITY BELT.

"Normally, I use this fer archaeological digs, but I think it will serve our purpose."

And he proceeded ta' softly brush away th' flour on top of and surroundin' th' black mass on th' stove top, until, shortly, there it emerged. th' Donut itself. A-la-Capt-Hoohah style. Slightly charred and blackened, jus' th' way he likes em'.

Reachin' fer his DUCK UTILITY BELT once again, he retrieved a knife and fork and two small, delicate, Meissen saucers and cut off a small piece, and handed it to me. I took a bite.

"Hmmm. Yeah. Delightful! Hmmmm, quite yummy"

"May I?" he said,

"But, to be sure, Ducky" I replied.

Then, usin' th' small portable cappuccino machine (yes, from off his DUB) he brewed us a couple cups of a very fine Almond Mocha blend, on top of which he deftly squirted a large dollop of frothy whipped cream. And so the DUCKMAN and I shared a nice repast there, just below th' smokeline.
Th' donut, as I've said, wuz superb! And th' conversation most congenial and satisfyin'. I remarked ta' him how I had tried ta' emulate him, even as a teenager, back when I sported a "ducktail" too. (thanks CS)

"Oh that!" he replied with a smug grin,

"Yes, I had no idea at th' time that peoples would so embrace my hairstyle."

"Well," I said, "back in those teenage hooligan days of th ‘50s, not everyone wuz exactly enamored of it. Jus' those of us who waaddled ta' a different quack."

And sd, after our enjoyable interlude there in th' remains of th' kitchen, th Duckman said,

"Thank you Cap't fer yer gracious hospitality. I'm glad I was able to be of some service to you, I will consider your offer ta' help me fight Crime and Evil Doers, such as rude and imperious wait/staff persons, for example, but now, I must be on my way, as others may be needing my help. Perhaps tho, you could help me in my take off. It appears it could be dicey."

"I am yur humble servant, sir." I replied.

Reflectin' back on it, I realise that this mode of donut preparation, with th' fires, and all th' commotion and all, may be off-puttin' to some, Should you attempt ta' do yur own donuts in this style, always keep in mind Santayana's words, which in times of stress I always find most comfortin'. They may strengthen yur resolve to see yur way through to its ultimately pleasant culinary conclusion.

th cap't

P.S.Ta' be brutally candid, this whole scenario wuz NOT exactly my original plan ta' begin with, but as ya' know, some times in our endeavors, Lady Fortuna steps in, and our plans go awry!
to be continued, yet again

WE ALREADY KNOW OF THE HIGHLY DANGEROUS LANDING THE DUCKMAN MADE ON THE PORCH.
HOWEVER WILL HE MANAGE TO TAKE OFF?
WILL HE BE ABLE TO CLEAR THE POWER LINES ACROSS THE STREET?
WHAT EXACTLY IS THE DUCKMAN'S RELATIONSHIP WITH GOOSEY LUCY?
IS THERE ANYTHING TO THE RUMORS OF A SPLIT BETWEEN DONALD AND DAISY?
WHAT ABOUT CHUCKIE LUCKY AND HENNY PENNY? WHAT'S THAT ALL ABOUT?
DID UNCLE SCROOGE TAKE ADVANTAGE OF HIS AFFAIR WITH MARTHA STEWART TO GAIN INSIDER KNOWLEDGE?
DID CHICKEN LITTLE'S OUTBURST CAUSE A CREDIBILITY GAP IN THE AVIAN COMMUNITY?
WILL TH' CAPT ATTAIN HIS GOAL TO FLY ALONG SIDE THE DUCKMAN?

We'll see.

Capt. HooHaaaaaaah, Awaaaay!

I saw a pick-up truuuck a little while ago that had written on it's rear window,

"God bless EVERYONE, and God bless ALL LIVING THINGS."

Whew! I guess that pretty much covers it, don't it! Ya' notice how Geo. Bush and Co. only say,

"God bless YOU and God bless AMERIKA!"

Th' other 6 1/2 billions of peoples and 180-90-some-odd countries can get their own damn blessings!!

And as far as blessin' "All Living Things", sheeit, there's only so much one God can do!!

Knowwhutahmsayin'. Like, this One takes six days jus' ta' make a world, then he's gotta' take a day off and “rest. Whut kinda god is that? Huh? Think of all th' other stuff he coulda' made while he wuz napping!

And, how long's it gonna' take him ta' bless All Living Things? Thas' quite a task! I hope all you living things out there are patient, cuz this may take a while!!

th' cap't

(My friend mike g. sent this ta' me. in my role as World Health Promoter, I'm passin' it on. after readin' it, I immediately went ta' th' store and bought myself a huge clump of bananas and I'm now doin' th' meenky thing. I'm suspectin' tho that th' National Association for th' Advancement of Bananas had somethin' ta' do with crafting this message. Ha ha. In any case, make of it whut you will)

BANANAS. Containing three natural sugars - sucrose, fructose and glucose combined with fiber, a banana gives an instant, sustained and substantial boost of energy. Research has proven that just two bananas provide enough energy for a strenuous 90-minute workout. No wonder the banana is the number one fruit with the world's leading athletes. But energy isn't the only way a banana can help us keep fit. It can also help overcome or prevent a substantial number of illnesses and conditions, making it a must to add to our daily diet.

(I'm sittin' here right now, gobblin' bananas and shovin' 'em in my face jus' as fast as i can)

Depression: According to a recent survey undertaken by MIND amongst people suffering from depression, many felt much better after eating a banana. This is because bananas contain tryptophan, a type of protein that the body converts into serotonin, known to make you relax, improve your mood and generally make you feel happier.

(Still, not as good as weed tho)

PMS: Forget the pills — eat a banana. The vitamin B6 it contains regulates blood glucose levels, which can affect your mood.

(Sometimes known as "mad cow disease". Ha ha. I'm jus' kidding gurlz. rilly! jus' a dumb sexist joke from a dumb sexist pig, oink oink.)

Anemia: High in iron, bananas can stimulate the production of hemoglobin in the blood and so helps in cases of anemia.

Blood Pressure: This unique tropical fruit is extremely high in potassium yet low in salt, making it the perfect to beat blood pressure. So much so, the US Food and Drug Administration has just allowed the banana industry to make official claims for the fruit's ability to reduce the risk of blood pressure and stroke.

(Really?! They wouldn't jive us would they?)

Brain Power: 200 students at a Twickenham (Middlesex) school were helped through their exams this year by eating bananas at breakfast, break and lunch in a bid to boost their brain power. Research has shown that the potassium-packed fruit can assist learning by making pupils more alert.

(This strikes me as whut they call "anecdotal", eh?)

Constipation: High in fiber, including bananas in the diet can help restore normal bowel action, helping to overcome the problem without resorting to laxatives.

Hangovers: One of the quickest ways of curing a hangover is to make a banana milkshake, sweetened with honey. The banana calms the stomach and, with the help of the honey, builds up depleted blood sugar levels, while the milk soothes and re-hydrates your system.

(Fortunately, I don't suffer from this disorder, but I love banana milkshakes anyway, jus' fer th' sheer fuckin' delight of 'em!)

Heartburn: Bananas have a natural antacid effect in the body, so if you suffer from heartburn, try eating a banana for soothing relief.

(A couple of tokes will accomplish th' same thing.)

Mosquito bites: Before reaching for the insect bite cream, try rubbing the affected area with the inside of a banana skin. Many people find it amazingly successful at reducing swelling and irritation.

(If ya' blow some marijuana smoke at them, they won't even bother you, cuz they won't have th' time or inclination ta' be suckin' no blood cuz they'll be too wrapped up tryin' ta' figure out their place in th' scheme of th' universe)

Nerves: Bananas are high in B vitamins that help calm the nervous system.

(Once again, not as good as herb)

Overweight and at work? Studies at the Institute of Psychology in Austria (th' Institute of Psychology in Austria? Ok, if you say so) found pressure at work leads to gorging on comfort food like chocolate and crisps. Looking at 5,000 hospital patients, researchers found the most obese were more likely to be in high-pressure jobs. The report concluded that, to avoid panic-induced food cravings, we need to control our blood sugar levels by snacking on high carbohydrate foods every two hours to keep levels steady.

(Perhaps in this instance, if yer tryin' ta' lose weight, ya' might wanna cut down on yer herb consumption level, so as not ta' be scarfin' down as many twinkies)

Ulcers: The banana is used as the dietary food against intestinal disorders because of its soft texture and smoothness. It is the only raw fruit that can be eaten without distress in over-chronicler cases. It also neutralizes over-acidity and reduces irritation by coating the lining of the stomach.
Temperature control: Many other cultures see bananas as a "cooling" fruit that can lower both the physical and emotional temperature of expectant mothers. In Thailand, for example, pregnant women eat bananas to ensure their baby is born with a cool temperature.

(Th' message here I guess, is that bananas are "cool", but hey, if it works fer thai gurlz, whut th' hell, who am i ta' dispute it?)

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD): Bananas can help SAD sufferers because they contain the natural mood enhancer tryptophan.

(Hey, we know a little bit of THC always brightens things up)

Smoking: Bananas can also help people trying to give up smoking. The B6, B12 they contain, as well as the potassium and magnesium found in them, help the body recover from the effects of nicotine withdrawal.

(I quit smokin' tobacco 9 months ago after 48 years, and found my daily dose of weed relieved any withdrawal symptoms I might have otherwise encountered)

Stress: Potassium is a vital mineral, which helps normalize the heartbeat, sends oxygen to the brain and regulates your body's water balance. When we are stressed, our metabolic rate rises, thereby reducing our potassium levels. These can be rebalanced with the help of a high-potassium banana snack.

Strokes: According to research in The New England Journal of Medicine eating bananas as part of a regular diet can cut the risk of death by strokes by as much as 40%!

(40%? oh c'mon! some slack please)

Warts: Those keen on natural alternatives swear that if you want to kill off a wart, take a piece of banana skin and place it on the wart, with the yellow side out. Carefully hold the skin in place with a plaster or surgical tape!

(Right now as I type this, I 'm sittin' here with a flap of banana draped over my nose)

So, a banana really is a natural remedy for many ills. When you compareit to an apple, it has four times the protein, twice the carbohydrate, three times the phosphorus, five times the vitamin A and iron, and twice the other vitamins and minerals. It is also rich in potassium and is one of the best value foods around. So maybe its time to change that well-known phrase so that we say, "A banana a day keeps the doctor away!"

Bananas must be the reason monkeys (meenkeys) are so happy all the time!

(Veddy intersting! Not sure how accurate it all is tho, but I'm gonna increase my banana consumption jus' in case)

th' capt.

P.S. And by th' way, I don't guess I gotta' tell ya' why those meenkeys are so happy alla time, but I'll give ya a clue; it don't have nothin' ta do with no steeenking bananas!

It is now around four in th' afternoon and already I have been assaulted by five different telemarketers. Th' first attack came at 8:30 this morning. I wuz totally unprepared as I had only gone ta' bed jus' a few short hours earlier. Damn their eyes!! These anonymous assholes who disturb my peace and harmony. I said ta' this gurl in my most pleasant voice, well, as pleasant as I could muster, given that I had jus' been jolted awake,

"Excuse me miss. Disregard th' fact that ya' have awakened me out of a deep and satisfying sleep, but why would ya' think I would need aluminium siding since I live in a rented apartment? YOU MOTHERFUCKING BITCH!!"

This last part I uttered in a quavering shriek and then after that, I said some very uncourteous things to her in an ever increasing pitch....oh th' Banshee would'a been envious! Upon which she hung up on me, without so much as a 'Good bye sir', or, "Have a nice one' or any other goddam thing! And I hadn't even had a chance ta' tell her whut a harlot, whore, slut bitch she wuz yet, and POOF...she wuz gone. Jus' like that!

These young pipples today jus' have no manners!! It took me another hour ta' get back ta' sleep. So ever since I woke up, I'm wonderin'.......how do I go about trackin' and runnin' this person to ground, who wantonly assailed me in my sleeping hours. Must I send 'tunnel rats' into th' mountain lairs where she and others like her seek refuge? Do I need ta' mount an assault on th' trailer parks where those of her ilk are housed and supported? Does everyone get these calls in the quantities I do? Is this normal? Do other peoples get 5 or 6 calls a day from imbeciles tryin' to sell ya' things ya' don't want or need, or already have?

Or, is this, as I suspect, part of th' ongoin' conspiracy against me, by those nameless cowards who will not face me mano a mano? Is this all part of some psy/ops plot where they think that by deprivin' me of my sleep, they will turn my mind ta' mush?? haha Whut a waste of time!! Th' jokes on them since I already beat them ta' the punch a long time ago my own damn bad self!

Now, I'm jus' sittin' here...... twiddlin' my thumbs..... waitin' patiently and expectantly.....waitin' fer that next call!

the cap't

P.S. By th' way, should ya' ever call me, and don't respond IMMEDIATELY ta' my “Hello” and are then greeted by a stream of obscenities, you'll know why. This has happened before, somewhat to my embarrassment. "Oh qgee grandma, I didn't know that wuz you!"

I wuz sittin' here readin' the comics page from this past Sunday, and it occurred ta' me how much I miss Mary Worth. I recall my bitterness a couple of years ago, when th' ignerent masses of Kansas City voted to remove her from th' comics page. I remember thinkin' at th' time,

"Pray tell, what in th' fuck is the matter with you peoples? Have ya' taken leave of yer senses? Have ya' gone stark, ravin' bonkers? How could ya' overwhelmingly vote to eliminate Mary Worth from th' comics page? How can one not enjoy th' cheesy, smarmy dialogue? Th' ludicrous plots and absurd characterization....th' silly names of th' characters....th' art work which so perfectly matched th' blandness of everything else?"

Look here, ya' read Mary Worth with th' same kinda' attitude and expectation that ya' watch a Roger Corman or Ed Wood movie. Like fr'instance, how can one not enjoy "PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE"? It's not th' kinda movie ta' be taken too seriously, know whut I mean! Same thing with Mary Worth!

In th' last episode of MW, before she wuz unceremoniously yanked from my grasp, without resolvin' th' issues th' characters were dealin' with, ya' had a character who said ta' his gurlfriend who had jus' accused him of some sort of chicanery,

"Twas' not me, dear lady." Ha ha.

Where else ya' gonna hear a line like that? Ya' had a teenager who referred ta' his mother as, "Mumsy". Once again, I mean, c'mon, where else ya' gonna' find Gold like that? Th' answer, my friend, is blowin' in th' wind, or, as our black feathered avian friend said,

"Nevermore!!".

Sigh. Life goes on, albeit, not quite so brightly.

th' cap't

P.S. As an example of th' mindless, soul less crap that replaced th' inimitable Mrs. W, check out "Spot" on th' lower part of th' first page. It has never once, not once mind you, even bought a smile ta' my mind.......forget about a chuckle!

(I wrote the above title on March 25, 2002)

I'm sure you have heard by now that the Newsweek article that ran about 11-12 days ago, alleged that guards down at Gitmo, flushed a Quran down a toilet ta' try and “break” detainees, has turned out ta' be false! In other words; it wasn't true!

Because of this article, Amerikan prestige, if such an animal even exists any more, was badly damaged, and ensuing riots by outraged Afghanistanis killed some 18 peoples, including a couple of Amerikan soldiers. This article was based on a high-level government source who claimed “anonymity.”

Now, the media, the White House, the Pentagon, the Democrats, the Republicans, and Merle's brother-in-law are all trying to figure how this happened? What a crock of shit? This practice goes on daily, and has been going on forever! I wrote this bit of drivel three years ago, so you see, once again, th' cap't was ahead of the curve, what ever that
.
------------------------------------------------

3/25/02 What the fuck is the deal with this phrase anyway? Every single day as I read the paper I see this phrase 6, 7, 10 times in the front section of the paper, usually concerning Afghanistan, but certainly not necessarily so. It could be economics, national policy, homeland security etc. etc...on and on and on. no one is willing to make a statement about any fucking thing, and admit they were the one who actually made the statement.

Hell, I read in just one article on Afghanistan recently where four different “senior government officials,” including one Afghan official, fr'chrissake, invoked the anonymity bit. Sheeeit, what's with that? 98% of the American public couldn't name you TWO Afghan officials in the first place, so...to what end this desire for anonymity? Besides, as we all know now, cuz we are told this daily, in most every article we read, and in every news report we hear, that most Afghans only use one name anyway, what difference would it make if we found out “Fred” said that? Who in the fuck is Fred, we would ask?

We never know who exactly said what, and why they won't cop out to it and take responsibility for having said it? Is there no senior government official Anywhere? Even in Afghanistan? Who is willing to be quoted as making a particular statement? What kind of news is it? And how credible is it when the person saying it refuses to acknowledge that he said it??

I guess these “senior government officials” call a press conference and say,

"Ok, yo, i got some stuff to tell you, but here's the deal, if you are going to quote me on it, then i won't tell you!!! "

and the reporters all go,

"Ok, ok, it's the old, "speaking on condition of anonymity" bit, right? No problem, ese, we can do that!! whadda'ya hear? "

And then the official tells them the latest gossip he heard while lurking about the water cooler perhaps. Maybe he heard it from Betty in human resources! Who knows? Who cares? Cuz, He won't ever have to explain or defend it anyway. Shit, tell em' what your 12 year old said over the breakfast table earlier in the day.

Now, I do know why they use this ploy. It really isn't anything new! There has been a long standing process of leaking information to the public that the govt. would rather not make “officially.” But the frequency and abuse of it's use has really gotten out of control. It is now, simply, standard operating procedure!! I suppose soon we will be reading things like,

"The president, speaking on condition on anonymity, said if Saddam Hussein keeps fronting us “attitude,” we will rain nukes on him like a summer thunderstorm!!"

These "anonymous sources". Fuck 'em!!

the cap't

Earlier today, I wuz lying around th' crib all afternoon, with nothin' ta' do, bored, y'know. So ta' pass th' time I wuz kickin' back on th' sofa here, readin' a can of Campbell's soup. (hey! a lotta' bored peoples read soup cans)

This is whut it said there and I quote,

"A quick meal in five minutes...chicken noodle soup and your favorite sandwich......a quick and simple meal that's FUN to eat!!! Add a delicious bowl of America's favorite chicken noodle soup with lots of yummy noodles to your favorite sandwich...... eating noodles is so much FUN!!...you're sure to smile,"

Well gee whiz, I fer one, would like ta' thank Campbell's fer this bit of culinary treasure. I mean, who amongst us, on our own, would have ever thought of that?

"soup.... AND..... a sandwich" Damn!

Whut a novel concept, eh? But then, on th' other hand, reflectin' on whut I had jus' read, y'know.....bout' the FUN thing and all, once again, I feel as though I've been left out all my life, sittin' on th' sidelines once more, while every one else around wuz havin' FUN!!!

Like, fr'instance, when guys in th' neighborhood were selectin' guys fer their team, and I'm th' last guy standin' there, and one dude says ta' th' other,

"Hey yo, it's yer turn!"

and my other chum says,

"Hey, no fair!. Drecks' th' onliest one left!"

"Don't matter! It's still yer turn! Ya' gotta' pick."

and I'd settle th' issue by sayin',

"Fuck you assholes! I'm goin' lookin' fer an Ivory-billed Woodpecker anyway. I don't have time fer yur dumb-ass baseball games! Fuckin' waste of time any way!!"

(I wonder if that had anythin' ta' do with my life-long antipathy ta' baseball? Nah! cuz hey, I'm not bitter or nothin')

Sheeit. I mean, I jus' never really appreciated that eatin' chicken noodle soup could be so much FUN as they said. I wish I'd known that back then!! Hell, I coulda' jus' sat there, eatin' Campbell's chicken noodle soup by myself and havin' a blast, cuz let's face it; whut were my chances of spottin' an Ivory-billed Woodpecker* anyway?

"Fuck you! I don't need ya'! I gots some Campbell's chicken noodle soup, so nyah, nyah, nyah!"

But noooooo....

Now, 50 years later, findin' all this out; I feel so bad, y'know, cuz, it's kinda late now, like Thomas Wolfe said, "Ya' can't go home again ace!!"

And still, I'm sittin' around readin' th' labels on soup cans? Whut's wrong with me that I can't have FUN like everyone else?

Hell, all those years, I jus' been eatin' noodles cuz I wuz hongry, and never knew that I wuz suppose to be havin' a FUN experience.

Sheeit. Now, I'm kinda leery bout' readin' any more packages from my kitchen shelves, cuz there's no tellin' whut else I may have been missin' out on!!! I'd rather not even dwell on it. Fuck a buncha' Campbell's chicken noodle soup! I'm jus' gonna' get stoned instead. I don't give a shit whut anyone says; thas' always FUN ta' me!! Don't need no steeenking chicken noodle soup or stupid games! Jus' gimme' a big, fat sensimilla joint!

the cap't

* Speakin' of Ivory-billed Woodpeckers; they jus' spotted one down in Arkansas recently fer th' first time in a hundred years! A hundred years!!! Can ya' dig that? No big mystery I guess, why I never spied any of 'em hangin' around Dayton, Ohio in 1951, eh?

When last we left th' Capt. he wuz confronted with a sheet of flame there in th' kitchen/lab. But th' Cap't didn't panic; remainin' calm, he chose ta' summon the DUCKMAN. This he accomplished by usin' his old DUCKMAN SUMMONER which he had obtained years ago in a package of cereal, never thinkin' someday he would actually have occasion ta' use it.

Our story continues…

He flashed th' Duck silhouette on th' nearest cloud. Mere seconds later his phone rang and before he wuz even able ta speak he heard th' unmistakeable voice of the DUCKMAN,

"This is the DUCKMAN here. Are you in distress?"

"Well yeah," I said, "Whadda'ya think? I called to chat about th' fuckin' weather or somethin'?"

"Please Sir, Keep calm .... while there is a proper time and place for sarcasm.... I suspect this is neither. Stay on the line. I'm going to need your assistance landing. Please step out onto your front porch"

So, while the fire is raging in the kitchen/lab, I go out to th' front porch and I can see th' DUCKMAN approachin' in th' distance.

"Can you ID me?"

It seemed like a foolish time to be checking fer ID's, but whut th' hell.

"Yeah, Roger that!"

Hey, this is kinda cool. Y'know, the human drama and all like that. I'm gonna talk the' DUCKMAN in fer a landin'. I've seen this scene in th' movies bunches of times before. Now it's happening to me, right here in real life. I think I'll give him the call sign White Fowl One. Thas' cool. So, as per Mr. D's instructions, I put a cigarette lighter in each hand and proceeded ta guide him in.

"Yur a bit too low in yer approach, White Fowl One. Do ya' read me?.....Pull it up!" I said trying not to let my voice reveal my concern.

"Roger. copy that" he said.

But he wuz still too low.

"White Fowl One, this is th' Captain speakin', Pull it up! Pull it up!!" And now I was gettin' a little frantic, cuz it wuz obvious he wuz goin' ta' crash inta' th' edge of th' porch.

"White Fowl One. You're comin' in too hot! Do you read me White Fowl One? Fer th' Love of God, Gander, pull it up!!" I cried desperately.

And as he came in, for a moment, Time itself seemed to stand still, (later, we will discuss this in more depth, fer now jus' let me leave ya' with a quote from Albert Einstein, "Time is only an illusion, albeit a persistent one") and my life flashed before my eyes and I thought,

"Oh fuck. Do I havta' go through all that shit again?"

But then, at th' very last second, with his huge webbed feet splayed out, he cleared th' edge and hit heavily, deployin' his drag chute, and throwin' his wings into a reverse flutter, careening and skidding madly along the wet porch....and finally comin' ta' a stop mere inches from the front door.

"Whew!" he said, wipin' a bead of perspiration off his feathered brow,

"I thought I wuz a dead duck there fer a second. Heh heh" he exclaimed with a nervous, self-conscious chortle.

"So...may I hep you?" he said in an unnaturally high voice. So I said, somewhat taken aback,

"Uh....yeah, um, gimme' a regular beef and some fries...."

"Stop that foolishness" he said sternly,

"Why did you summon me? And by the way, this is the ‘90s y'know. You need to get my phone number, or my fax or E-Mail or something, cuz I haven't responded to one of these antique methods in many years. Yer lucky I happened ta' be airborne at th' moment."

and he gave me his card while I quickly led him ta' th' Inferno.

"Oh yeah, hmmmm, I see what you mean. A bit of a blaze, eh? No problema. Stand back sir, I'll soon have everything under control"

Havin' said that, he went ta his DUCK UTILITY BELT and produced a large cannister labled FLOUR which he proceeded ta' throw all over th' stove and in nothing flat, th' blaze wuz contained. (sounds kinda anti-climatic, don't it? "in nothing flat, the blaze was contained"Sheeit)

"Wow" I said, amazed, "How did you do that?"

"Pretty elementary my dear fellow." he said, though I detected a trace of smugness there.

"Say, lemme' ask ya' somethin'?" I said. "I've always been curious. Why do ya' wear that little mask over yur eyes? I mean, as disguises go, It doesn't really do that much. No offense. And by th' way, would ya' have any openings, y' know, in a sidekick kinda fashion, cuz, like, all th' superheros I've read about all have a partner of sorts ta' assist 'em, and like, I already got a name. I'm Captain Hoohah see. And I'm pretty good at crafts and stuff so I could make my own mask and all, and rig up some kinda uniform fer, y'know, when we go out on patrol. Y'know, in th' daytime I could still be jus' plain old mild mannered cab driver, Joe Dreck, ("Where in the fuck did you learn to drive? YOU STUPID MUTHERFUCKING OLD BITCH!!")

and in th' evenings put on my outfit and become CAPTAIN HOOHAH, the DUCKMAN's faithful companion in his ongoin' battle fer Truth and Justice in Amerika."

"Well", he said, in a kinda doubtful tone, "Thanks kid, but, you know, I kinda like to work solo, if you know what I mean?"

"Kid?" This kinda rubbed me wrong and I thought ta' myself, "Kid? Who th' fuck ya' callin' "kid" ya' dumb mutherquacker?"

But in my zeal ta' join forces with 'im, I let it pass without remarking on it, and as he surveyed the chaos and destruction of our surroundings there, he said further,

"And besides kid, I'm not sure if you're quite ready yet, know whut ahm sayin."

to be continued

(I wrote about th' following events in March, 99. Man it doesn't seem like this wuz six years ago. Time flies when yur havin' fun, don't it?)

It wuz jus' last night. While th' populace of Kansas City slumbered, unaware of th' potential disaster about ta' engulf 'em, th' DUCKMAN... fortunately... wuzn't asleep! But wuz in fact... doing his thing. That is, Soaring silently thru th' night time skies; Guardian of th' Peoples.

Whut happened wuz...I FUCKED UP! I'll cop out to it. It wuz all my fault. And th' irony is, it wuz only a couple of weeks ago, th' Honorable Reverend Mayor, His Excellency, Lord Emmanuel Cleaver, proclaimed FIRE AWARENESS WEEK. Perhaps ya' recall.

And so, since then, inspired by th' Mayor's plea, I have tried ta' maintain an awareness and respect for th' hazards of FIRE. I guess I shoulda' paid more attention!! But sheeit, that wuz a couple of weeks ago!!... I mean... my attention span is not all that great, ya dig?!

So, last night... rather..... early this mornin', around 3:15, in a sloshy kinda state of mind, "SNAFU" y'know whut I mean? I placed a donut, still in it's bag in th' Radar Range (microwave ta' you young folks)

Well.... I went about my other business there in th' lab, pourin' some milk in anticipation, when... suddenly... I heard th' familiar loud ZAPPING and POPPING sounds which I have become so familiar with. I wuz somewhat surprised though cuz I jus' bought this outfit a month or so ago, and wuzn't expectin' this kinda' action. Perchance ya' recall my old unit had a hole burned in th' side about four inches in diameter, forcin' me ta' take refuge behind my refrigerator door durin' operations.

Well, in any case, I noticed through th' window that, amidst all th' electricity arcing back and forth, th' bag had caught on fire, so I quickly removed it and set it on th' table and tried ta' blow th' flames out.

MISTAKE #1. This wuz not a good idea since it only made th' situation worse. It jus' fanned th' flames, don'cha see! Th' whole bag wuz on fire now, and since I didn't want ta' burn my table top, I deftly picked up th' whole flamin', smokin' affair and tossed it on top of th' stove, where it could harmlessly burn itself out.

MISTAKE #2! This wuz most definitely a bad decision! Baaad Decision! Since some (make that more than some) grease from a previous project now erupted inta' flames. I wuz standin' there, immobile, starin' at some pretty righteous flames shootin' up ta' my ceiling, and I wuz thinkin',

"Goddamn! Thas' th' only fuckin' donut I have!!! Sheeit. Fuck!"

While lamentin' th' loss of my donut I decided, maybe tho, it wuz time ta' take some kinda action. Much ta' my credit and in spite of a natural inclination ta' do so, I desisted from throwin' water on th' blaze, which is whut I used ta' do in similar situations in th' past. I learned this th' hard way from hands-on experience. Ya' might wanta' jot this down yerself somewhere fer future reference, cuz it's not a good idea ta' try and put out grease fires with water. I'm not smoking ya' either. Don't try this at home kids, jus' take my word for it! OK?!!

Whut I did wuz........I remained calm. I didn't panic and run aroun' squawkin' like some fuckin' Chicken Little-type. No, I called fer assistance, thas' right! Ya' guessed it!... I summoned "the DUCKMAN"!

ta' be continued

I woke up at 8:30 this morning and my left eye wuz burning somthin' fierce. At first I figured it wuz jus' that ol' sensation ya' feel sometimes, th' day after some excessive drinkin', y'know, where yer thinkin', "Goodness Gracious!! Great Eyeballs of Fire!!" y'know whut I mean!!

But it wuz only my left eye. Shortly, I realised it wuz jus' an eyelash in my eye. No big deal, right? But, it very soon felt more like a rock, and a very jagged rock indeed. I couldn't get back ta' sleep until I got rid of it. I tried everything! I used th' entire contents of a half bottle of Visine to no good purpose. I rubbed and rolled my eye around tryin' ta' get it loose. I did this fer literally hours.

It wuz drivin' me Insane with th' pain and th' irritation. I wanted ta' scream. I wanted ta' bang my head inta' th' wall and knock myself out. Anything ta' make it go away!! I didn't know any good incantations.

Finally, after three and a half hours of anguish, I got up at noon, havin' been unable ta' get back ta' sleep. I looked at my eye in th' mirror and it wuz a bright tomato red with a big black dot in th' middle.

I spent two more futile, agonizing hours with no results. Finally, out of frustration and desperation I, like many peoples in a quandary, resorted ta' th' Good Book fer some Inspiration.

After only a few minutes of searchin'. I wuz rewarded with this Gem, "If thine eyeball offendeth thee, then plucketh it outeth!"

As I pondered on this, th' phrase, "Burn down th' barn ta' get rid of rats" flashed thru my mind, followed by, "Throw out th' baby with th' bath water."

Hmmmmm. It didn't seem ta' be th' most prudent course of action ta' me. It seemed ta' be a rather radical cure, But then I thought,

"WELL, IF IT'S IN TH' BIBLE, IT MUST BE TRUE!!!"

Right? Cuz th' Bible is God's word direct from God hisself, ta' be taken literally, word fer word. No off-th'-wall interpretations, Pleeese!! Jus' like, fr'instance, how He made th' world in only six days, as any good Kansan can tell ya', in spite of whut all those godless, Commie Evolutionist claim.

So, now I know whut ta' do, ta' cleanse my eye, in spite of my misgivings. I know, I know.... cuz TH'

BIBLE TELLS ME SO!!!

th' cap't

A young mother prepares her darling little four-year-old angel for bed.

As they finish their prayers together on the floor, the little pixie remembers something she forgot,
"Oh yes, and watch over Captain Hoohah as he fixes his meals."

And then with a giggle, while mommy gives her a playful pat on her rump, she scampers and snuggles her way to the end of the bed. Mommy gives her a little tickle, evoking tiny squeals and giggles, while she tucks the sheet under her chin and lovingly brushes aside her golden curls.

Mommy gazes lovingly into her eyes, and says very softly, "I love you, Precious."

Her young daughter looks at her with the wide eyed Innocence and angelic smile only a four year old could possess, and says in a tiny voice, "I know mommy. I luv you too."

While they spend this quiet priceless moment together, a soft summer breeze wafts through the window, carrying with it a plaintive, and yet re-assuring cry,

"Quaaack quack, qua quaaack!"

Mommy says,

"Listen sweetie, it's the Duckman."

"I know, mommy"

Again, just barely audible now,

"Quuuuuuaaaack. qua, quuuuuuaaaaack!"

Mommy says, "The Duckman is flying high above the city, right now, on his lonely vigil, watching over us and protecting us from rude and churlish wait/staff persons and incompetent proof readers and cell phone abusers and cliche users, and so on and so forth."

As her little daughters eyelids slowly close, she whispers, with just a wisp of exasperation,

"I KNOW! mommy!!"

and even before Mommy's lips brush her rosy little cheek, she is sound asleep.

Remember boys and gurls, the Capon Crusader is watching over YOU too tonight, so sleep well!

th cap't

I jus' got done samplin' some chili I prepared earlier today. Once again, fer the second time in a row, it was excellent! Thas' twice in two weeks I haven't been injured or had ta' call th' fire dept. or transformed my chili inta' a block of lava!

I wonder if this is jus' a fluke, or whether tihs indicates that perhaps.....jus' maybe that...... after twenty-five years of effort.... I am finally startin' ta' get th' hang....of that chili thang? hmmmmm.

the capt

Have ya' ever had a twice-baked potato? I mean, whut's the deal with that? Sheeit

I decided I could do better than that. Thus, this afternoon, I decided to explore......and go where no man.......blah, blah blah,

So...I wanted ta see whut would happen if we went one more time, and go for th' Big Three! I carefully selected a fine idaho baking potato and placed it in my 375 degree pre-heated oven. I let it bake for a while. I'm not being deliberately vague here, it's jus' that my timing device wuz malfunctionin' at th' time.
I took it out of th' oven and placed it on th' counter and observed it closely. Nothin' happened. I put it back in th' oven fer a while longer and extracted it once again. Still nothin' happenin' there. I put it back in th' thrice time and took it out again and sat it on th' counter for th' third and final time. Still it just sat there.

I placed my pet rock next to it, expectin' maybe some kind of interaction. I watched them both very closely, fer a long time. I mean, very closely. I wuz perfectly still, motionless, hopin' not ta' disrupt any dynamic which might occur......I didn't move...... neither did they! I focused my entire being on them. And then. at some point, I realized I could no longer perceive either one of them. They had become invisible. I said to myself,

"WOW, this is too much!"

but then I thought ta' myself,

"Hmmmm, not only can I not see the rock and the potato, I can't see any fucking thing at all!! Have I gone utterly blind?"

I shrieked! in a brief moment of panic. But nothing so dramatic as that had happened. No, no. It would seem that, so intent wuz I in my observations, I had failed to realize that the sun had set and it was now night time.

This explained a lot! So......in th' end,.. whut I wound up with, wuz a rock and a potato sitting there on my counter.... in th' night time darkness......perfectly still! Thas' it!!

So.... whut wuz I expectin', ya' ask? I dunno! Jus' somethin' more, has' all. Ya'know! Jus' somethin' more!!! A thrice-baked potato? Pshaw! Big fucking deal!! Some horizons jus' aren't worth th' effort, y'know whut I mean?

the capt

Jus' a short time ago, Dateline travelled about th' country visiting numerous schools with' th' Health Inspectors ta' check on th' safety of their lunches.

Not surprisingly, th' KC School District wuz one of th' worst they tested. So...ya' might wanna' keep that in mind th' next time ya' sneak inta' a school cafeteria tryin' ta' cop a free meal.

th' cap't

Recently some one asked me if I would ever like to go on an ocean cruise? I jus' said, "NO!" I won't be goin' on any ocean cruise cuz; I don't like that whole "water thing." I stay away from wading pools, ponds, lakes, creeks, rivers, streams, seas and oceans and water puddles. (Ask Ira Hayes whut he thinks about water puddles?)

I don't go on any row boats, canoes, kayaks, water skies, jet skies, surfboards, inner tubes, water slides, trawlers, fishing boats, ocean liners, water-wings or any other kind of device that requires floating on water.

"STAY AWAY FROM THE WATER" is my motto! Bad things can happen there. Statistics show that water plays a major role in most drownings. Like. fr'instance, I got rid of my bathtub a few years ago after a harrowing experience I had there. I wuz sittin' in the tub with my life preserver on, when I suddenly lost my grip on the edge of the tub so that I wuz hangin' on with only one hand, thrashin' about wildly, and in the process lost my grip altogether. My life preserver malfunctioned and I was just about to go under fer th' third and final time when my dog, havin' heard my pleas for help, managed to grab me by the life preserver, and dragged me out of the tub and immediately started applyin' the Heimlich maneuver. Yeah, thas' right! The Heimlich maneuver!! This dog wasn't too bright. And I said,

"What in the fuck are you doing you dumb bitch?" *

It was a gurl dog, you see.

"Jeeeze! yur supposed ta' do 'mouth ta' mouth' in a situation like this!! How many times I gotta' tell ya'?"

But seein' as how she had saved my life, I didn't press the issue and rewarded her with a bowl of some of my special chili, which got her droolin' and her tail waggin', as ya' can imagine!

Well anyway, I'm not gonna' be going on any ocean cruises anytime in this lifetime. Perhaps next time around!

the cap't

P.S. Wouldn't it be Ironic, if in my next Incarnation, I came back as a sea slug?

* We've all prolly uttered this phrase some time before, haven't we? Usually while operatin' a motor vehicle! Ha ha

I read a review of a local band recently where they were described as, "lyrically earnest and musically sound"

hmmmmmm.....I'm not exactly sure whut that means, but it doesn't sound like a particularly enthusiastic endorsement ta' me.

Scuse me,"Lyrically earnest"??

th' cap't

Last night in th' saloon I overheard this young dude tell his friend, "This country is fast going to Hell in a hand-barrel!".

Say whut!! While I think I know what he wuz tryin' ta' say, I'm not so sure jus' exactly whut a hand-barrel is? Have YOU ever seen a hand-barrel before? Do they come in different colors? Are they bigger than a bread box? When yer hand-barrel breaks down, where can ya' get it repaired? Would it be tacky ta' give yer sweetheart a hand-barrel fer Valentines Day rather than a box of chocolates? Do they use child labor in sweatshops ta' manufacture these things?

These kinda questions and more, overload my mind, makin' sizzlin' sounds. I don't like it when my brain sizzles. They're not supposed ta' do that you know!!

the capt

Ya' know, I haven't written very much lately. Some times th' mind jus' goes blank, ya' know whut I mean? There's nothin' there. I'm sure a lotta' peoples would agree with me on that one. I've sat on my stool and came up with a number of things I wanted ta' express later on, only ta' lose 'em ta' th' Short Term Memory Loss Syndrome. Ya' know how that goes.

So I wuz jus' sittin' here for some moments with this incessant buzz in my ear, y'know, "Bzzzzzzzzz, Bzzzzzzzzz, Bzzzzzzzz" and I thought to myself,

"Eureka! Dayhm!.....sounds like I got one fuck of a good idea working here."

But then, I jus' realized it wuz naught but a fucking gnat instead. Sigh!

the capt

Jus' a little while ago I went searchin' through my fridge lookin' fer something ta' fix fer lunch and I found half of a KC strip steak I had bought X (classified) days ago. It had been hidden under some (deleted) that I had also forgotten about.

So I took th' strip out and it was slimy ta' th' touch and it had a, whut ya' might describe as an unpleasant aroma about it. Not ta' worry cuz, bein' a person who doesn't like ta' waste anything, and bein' cognizant of all th' peoples on earth who don't have any meat at all ta' eat today, whut I did in this situation wuz......... I went Real Heavy on th' garlic salt. We're talkin' HEAVY here boyz and gurlz. Ya' wanna' coat that dude Real Good.

Next, I would strongly suggest that although yer personal tastes may run ta' 'medium rare', as do mine, in this particular situation I would go with th' "well done" when it comes ta' actual cooking time. Actually I would go with th' "rilly well done"! This helps purge yer meat of those nasty bacteria-types that are lurkin' there.

If ya' follow these two simple basic steps, that is, Heavy on th' seasonings and Long on th' cookin', ya' can use this same technique on jus' about anything ya' cook up. One additional thing though, ya' will wanta' wash yer hands very throughly when ya' finish, cuz otherwise those peoples who happen ta' use the same door handle as you, or perhaps handle money ya' have been in contact with, will go home and become violently ill. This is nothing more than simple common courtesy, eh.

So... th' next time ya' open a package of meat and retch, don't despair at yer loss. Instead try this simple procedure first. And when yer friends ask ya' bout yer secret preparation methods, jus' give em' yer best Cheshire cat grin, and tell 'em it would spoil ('spoil' heh heh) it fer them if ya' 'shared'.

th' cap't

P.S. By th' way, if I were you, I wouldn't mention my name in connection with this whole affair. Fer some reason, which I can never fathom, it dampens peoples enthusiasm when my name and foods are used in conjunction. Lots'a peoples jus' don't rilly appreciate my stature in th' Culinary Crafts. Gut appetît.