Deliriously Happy (9 page)

Hey, remember that lady who'd fallen and couldn't get up?
I've fallen and I can't get up. I've fallen and I can't get up
. You know why she can't get up, don't you? Because they control the gravity and she found out.

You can bet I'd be having sex with her, too.

Travel a lot in this job. Gotta keep moving, or you get pulled into the earth by the trolls. What is
their
problem?

So I fly a lot, on planes mostly. Airline food: now, what demented individual came up with this item? I mean, who eats chicken? What if the chickens found out? They would not be happy.

Can't get a decent knife on an airplane anymore. It's all plastic now. Like, what? I'm going to stab and stab and stab the passenger sitting next to me? And how do they know what you're thinking? Here's a hint: don't eat the peanuts.

They've got a lot of crazy laws in this country. Screwy laws. Like in Tennessee, it's illegal to stand in the middle of the street,
even if you've been instructed by the highest authority to do so
. And in Maine it's against the law to spit on babies. Pretty babies, ugly babies, it doesn't matter. Crazy. They'll arrest you for anything.

Am I the only one here planning on shooting the president? Show of hands: Who's with me?

That's right, best keep it to yourself. They can trace your emails now, using DNA that the keys on the keyboard extract from your fingertips. I can't believe I invented that technology and then they go and use it against me. Totally nuts.

Hey, you know what I hate? Don't you hate it when people laugh at you? Like
you're all laughing at me right now
.

I'm going to cry for a little bit. Could we turn off the mike and take the lights down?

Great. I'm done!

How are those margaritas treating you? Strange name, margarita. Means “little Margaret.” The funny thing is, she tastes nothing like that. It's just insane. Can I have a sip of yours? Thanks. Delicious. I hope you don't mind; I have every kind of cancer. Including a couple of new ones the NIH just disseminated.

I'm a little neurotic when it comes to food. I won't eat anything orange. The color doesn't actually exist, which should be a tip-off. I also won't eat possum, because you can never tell if it's really dead. And when I kill and eat my enemies, who are legion, I forgo the eyeballs, because I don't want them checking out my insides and reporting back to
you know who
.

Well, that flashing light means that either Jesus has come for me as promised or my time is up. So I'd just like to leave you with this thought:

Good night!
And don't forget to tip your waitresses, especially that one over there: she's in love with me.

Take this simple quiz to find out if you are insane.

1.If someone bumped into me on the street, I would:

a.   Say “Excuse me” and continue walking.

b.   Say “Excuse me” but sarcastically, and continue walking.

c.   Not say “Excuse me” and stand there giving the person a dirty look as he or she continued walking.

d.   Other: _________________________________________

How You Did:
If you answered a, b, or c, you are probably not insane, although the sensitivity of this test is limited and you should periodically ask your friends if they think you've been acting crazy lately. If you answered “Other,” show your written response to a person picked at random on the street. If s/he runs away from you, you may be insane. Please consult a therapist.

Yesterday, some editions of the
Vigilante-Statesman
contained an editorial criticizing Mayor Bob McNaught for his recent handling of the Crick Creek bond issue. For the record, the Honorable Mayor McNaught, despite his miniature, squatty appearance and frequently affected demeanor, cannot be accurately described as a “mincing dwarf.”

True dwarfs, while of somewhat smaller stature than the average person, are otherwise normal, functioning human beings who make valuable contributions to our society. The same certainly cannot be said of Mayor McNaught. In any case, the correct appellation for such size-challenged individuals is “little person.” This has been official
Vigilante-Statesman
style since 2008. Furthermore, it is not this paper's policy to insinuate that dwarfs mince, nor that mincing individuals are dwarfs.

Also, as
Vigilante-Statesman
readers are well aware, this state is considering riverboat gambling as a way to raise muchneeded revenue for its education and drug-rehabilitation programs. Thus, depicting Mayor McNaught as “One-Eyed Bob,” a nineteenth-century dandy slick replete with a pencil-thin mustache and silk pinstripes, is not simply a bad cliché; it comes at the worst possible time. Moreover, this characterization of the mayor as a dishonest riverboat rogue only perpetuates an ancient stereotype that professional gamblers have worked hard to dispel. To our knowledge, at no time has any professional gambler in this community been linked to the mayor or his activities.

As the newspaper of record in this community, accuracy is our watchword. Nevertheless, a reading of yesterday's editorial suggests that some members of our editorial board were passing notes and not paying attention during Mrs. Anclade's history classes. Specifically, the statement “Like a tiny Napoleon, the mayor stands before those who would improve our school-lunch program and declares, ‘Let them eat snack cakes!'” completely disregards the fact that the original quote upon which this misguided attempt at humor is based has never been attributed to Napoleon at all, but rather to some other French person, who most scholars now agree never said it in the first place. Also, while most will acknowledge that Mussolini's foreign policy and human-rights records were poor, to call the mayor a “municipal Mussolini” only reveals our editorial writers' ignorance of the Fascist dictator's successful public-works programs.

And matters of accuracy aside, our editorial board displayed the height of insensitivity by evoking Genghis Khan in this context at a time when his own people are reevaluating the historical importance of this great warrior and, yes, statesman. To our Mongol readers, we apologize.

Our editorial writers had no evidence upon which to claim, even facetiously, that the mayor is the Antichrist. For the record, Bob McNaught is not the Antichrist. The Antichrist is Bryan Reed, Paul Bodeen, and The Ax, three talented musicians who play Thursdays and Fridays at the Goat's Head Soup Kitchen out on Old Schwermer Road. The
Vigilante-Statesman
did not mean to inadvertently imply that these earnest young men were in any way responsible for the slow, inexorable degradation of our fair city into filth and decay.

And finally, we would like to state most emphatically that pigs are actually intelligent and clean animals, and likely would not lie down with the mayor, or any other corrupt official. They are also safe to eat. In an attempt to draw a comparison with the mayor, the editorial failed to make this distinction clear.

We understand the County Farmers' Association is considering canceling “Pork Barrel Days” as a result of this ill-considered metaphor. We hope this will not be the case, and that we can all put this whole unfortunate affair behind us.

Toward that end, I have taken steps as publisher to ensure that the
Vigilante-Statesman
remains free of such offenses in the future. Reluctantly, I have accepted the resignation of Jim Hamsterman, our editorial-page editor, and have suspended without pay our two editorial writers, Ted Nuggles and Lissa McNaught. Lucy Hamsterman, the editorial-page copy editor who should have caught these mistakes, has been reassigned and will not be eligible for this year's World Series tickets pool.

And yet, even this is not enough. In a very real sense, all of us here at the
Vigilante-Statesman
are responsible for fostering the ignorance, prejudice, and unprofessionalism that led to these truly regrettable errors. Therefore, I am announcing that, with this afternoon's sports final, the
Vigilante-Statesman
will cease publication for the next three weeks, during which time I want the remaining staff of this paper to think about what we've done.

In an editorial in yesterday's paper, Mayor Bob McNaught was referred to as Mayor Boob, Mayor McNutt, Boob McNothing, Boo McMuffin, and in a number of other ways that cannot be printed in a family newspaper. According to
Vigilante-Statesman
style, these are all nicknames and should have been identified as such with the use of quotation marks. The
Vigilante-Statesman
regrets the error.

Reprinted with permission from the
Manhattan Blue Streak,
the alternative weekly newspaper of Manhattan, Illinois, located just thirteen miles west of Monee. The
Wag
is written by Laurence Doyle, also the paper's editor, publisher, and circulation manager
.

Men are but children of a larger growth.

—Dryden

Pinch Me:
That's what our own bachelor mayor squealed repeatedly during his oh-so-surprising
né day soirée
out at the Red Heifer Beefbarn last Friday eve. A consuming politician,
Mayor Ed
moved and shaked from table to table, requesting his Big 55 B-day spankings from Manhattan's more-than-happy-to-oblige business and civic leaders, including longtime Ednemesis
P. Greg Roberts
, who lost count and had to start over—three times.