Most of us learn at an early age that there are animals you can mess around with and animals that you cannot. Just because Maryjane Morningstar’s precious little kittycat, Ruffles will let you pick her up and pet her doesn’t mean Daphne Snodgras’ tomcat, Beowulf will be equally accommodating. And as for Joey Posluszny’s mangy cur, Buckshot, well, he was the actual instigator of the famous phrase, “Walk softly and carry a big stick.”
We didn’t have any pets when we were kids because my sister, Alice (The Republican), had asthma and was allergic to everything. Alice didn’t even require animal intervention to throw her into an asthmatic fit, she could perform all on her own. Every time we turned around, there was Alice, turning blue, so off we went to the Lawrence General Hospital. Alice spent more time at the hospital than Dr. Marcus Welby. She had a stamp on her forehead that read, “If found unconscious, please deliver to Lawrence General.” We thought about just leaving her there but the room rates were atrocious.
Not having any pet experience can be scary because it takes a kid longer to learn the subtleties of animal thinking. You can’t necessarily tell whether Bowser down the street is considering biting your ass or whether he is just bluffing. And let me tell you, in those days there were a lot of Bowsers. Cities and towns didn’t have all these regulations they have today about animals on the loose. On a simple little trip to school, you could run into all kinds of trouble. When I was in the first grade, there was one dog in particular, the world’s largest collie, who insisted on following me for several blocks, barking all the way. I tried to convince him that Lassie and I were best friends, but he was having none of it. I took to carrying a large (and long) stick to discourage him but the stick just pissed him off. I told my father about this hound from hell but he just told me not to look him in the eyes (don’t worry about that, Dad) and not to run. Easy to say if you’re a big person with a very mean voice. Large dogs are not afraid of being scolded by choir boys.
I was thinking about all this the other day when I read about poor old Lee Palmer of Portland, Oregon, who, through no fault of his own, is now the laughingstock of his neighborhood and several other neighborhoods, as well. Seems like Lee is having cat problems with his 4-year-old part-Himalayan named Lux. Palmer says that his 7-month-old kid pulled Lux’s tail, something most part-Himalayans consider a significant affront to their dignity (and don’t we all?). The cat indicated his considerable displeasure by scratching the child, which he also called a “ratty little mofo,” according to Lee. Palmer, who despises cursing, animal-related or other, responded by kicking the cat, which, in retrospect, might have been a little bit of overkill. Highly offended by the ongoing shenanigans, Lux “just went over the edge,” said Palmer, who excitedly called 911 (and you wonder why the line is busy when you want to report that ledgesitter at your apartment building).
“HE’S CHARGING US!” Palmer screamed into the phone, as the cat was heard screeching in the background. “He’s got myself, my girlfriend and the baby cornered in a small room. He’s gone out of his mind!”
Gee. I’ve heard about Mighty Mouse, but who knew cats were this tough? In all fairness to Poppa Lee, I think I should point out that Lux is a VERY BIG feline with a scary demeanor. Palmer says the cat has a “history of bad behavior” but we don’t know if that means he’s been getting into the Skittles or turning over buses in the church parking lot. Anyway, the family gave Lux over to a Portland-area shelter temporarily before later deciding to keep him and enter therapy with a fellow possessing the dubious moniker of “Jackson Galaxy,” supposedly the star of an Animal Planet program called My Cat From Hell. Sounds like they’ve got the right guy. Galaxy reports that he only calls 911 when either actual flesh is being rendered or the cat has grown a mustache and is goose-stepping around the room.
Close The Door, They’re Coming In The Widows!
If you think Lee Palmer had a tough time, you’ll really sympathize with the following:
1. It’s The Least They Could Do, Having Taken Back Kathryn And All…. At the Anchorage, Alaska zoo, 29-year-old Australian tourist Kathryn Warburton climbed a fence and railing to get close-up photos of a polar bear named Binky, failing to realize that Binky just hates having his picture taken. After the polar bear registered his objection, Warburton was left with a broken leg and bite wounds. “It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” she admitted, needlessly. The zoo staff let Binky keep Kathryn’s shoe for three days before retrieving it.
2. Don’t Forget Your Boots, Phil! Oh, Mom—Do I Have To? California newspaper executive editor Phil Bronstein suffered a serious foot injury when he was attacked by a venomous Komodo Dragon at a Los Angeles zoo. Bronstein was shoeless at the time of the attack, having taken the advice of a zookeeper who told him his white sneakers might be mistaken for the rats often fed to the animals. The Dragon’s jaws crushed the casing of Bronstein’s big toe, requiring surgery to reattach several tendons.
3. This Hardly Ever Happens In Pflugerville. Ninety-four-year-old Australian sweetiepie Phyllis Johnson was outside, hanging her laundry, when a kangaroo appeared out of nowhere and bounded into her, knocking her off her feet and kicking her several times. The spunky woman tried to fend him off with a broom but, as we all know, kangaroos eat brooms for lunch. She finally managed to crawl away, was rushed to the hospital and lived, despite severe bleeding and a big footprint on her ass.
4. Cheryl Tiegs Would Have Laughed It Off. During a ride on the spanking-new rollercoaster Apollo’s Chariot at Busch Gardens Williamsburg, romance novel coverboy Fabio was smacked in the nose by a large, clumsy bird, bloodying his face and ending his not-so-fabulous day at the amusement park. “The damn bird could have chosen anyone on the ride,” wailed Fabio. “Why ME?”
“De Plane! De Plane!”
Little Bo-peep has lost her plane
And doesn’t know where to find it.
Leave it alone and it will come home,
Dragging its tail behind it.
Or maybe not. Hey, anybody hear about the lost airliner? Unless you live in a cave on the far reaches of the Kamchatka Peninsula, the answer could be “youbetcha”. CNN and its ilk have devoted non-stop, 25-hour-a-day coverage to the missing behemoth, right-wing radio has burst into a nova of wild and improbable speculations and unaffiliated conspiracy theorists are spilling over with glee. “I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again” was never so relevant.
We here at The Flying Pie, a non-discriminatory outfit, feel that somebody must be right. And the boring likelihood that “the plane fell in the ocean far away,” ala Amelia Earhart, isn’t much fun. So we feel an obligation, nay, a blinding compulsion, to investigate other possibilities, of which there is no dearth. Like, for instance, these:
1. It’s ‘Lost’ All Over Again. You remember the TV megahit ‘Lost’. Planeful of disparate types crashes on an island in the middle of nowhere, far off the shipping lanes, too remote for any possible radio contact. The island in this case was lush and provided sustenance. If this is what happened to Malaysia Airlines Flight 370, any passengers who survived the crash could live for years. Just think of it—they could be out there right now, building bonfires on the sand, constructing funky rafts, spearing wild, invisible hogs. If so, we’d like to make one simple request: Please do not allow your personal tragedy to deteriorate into the sad spectacle that was ‘Lost’, a book with no final chapter, a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, a runaway elephant of a television program which promised much and delivered little, the producers, obviously overwhelmed by the Frankenstein they had created, fleeing off into the hills, screaming their insane song. Just send us a postcard and save us the drama.
2. The Bermuda Triangle Moved. And why shouldn’t it, for all the business it was getting lately? Once the popular spot for spookily lost ships and entire military air squadrons which suddenly dropped off the map, the Triangle had fallen into disrepair, snagging only an occasional fishing trawler or low-flying glider. The problem was obvious: Everybody knew where the damn thing was—time to move on to more propitious climes. A silly little Malaysian pleasure flight would be easy and welcome pickings for the long-starved tentacles of the Triangle. I’m giving this one a big 8 on the scale of likely possibilities. It has a nice tune and you can dance to it.
3. The Aliens Did It. It’s always with the aliens. Can’t figure something out? The aliens must have done it. Have you ever asked yourself Do the aliens really CARE? And if so, aren’t they awfully busy with their other pursuits. You know—like disembodying cattle and kidnapping yokel redneck women to impregnate with their alien seed? Nope, I don’t give this one any legs. Not even those little teeny ones like the Martians are known to have.
4. The Terrorists Are Hiding It. This is a BIG favorite with the redneck radio yahoos, who tend to give those error-prone terrorists a little too much credit for guile and competence. From what we’ve seen, terrorists are the new Polacks, they botch up everything. Why haven’t the stand-up comedians picked up the ball on this one? There’s an endless stream of unspoken terrorist jokes out there. Oh, you don’t think so? Examples:
a. Did you hear the one about the terrorist who tried to blow up the ambassador’s car? He burned his lips on the tailpipe.
b. Muslim goes into a sex shop, asks for an inflatable doll.
“Male or female?” asks the clerk.
“Female.”
“Black or white?”
“White.”
“Christian or Muslim?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Muslim one blows itself up!”
c. “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Terrorist burglar.”
d. Terrorist goes into a whorehouse. The Madam is out of girls but thinks she can put one over on the terrorist, most of which lack intellectual clarity. She presents him with a blow-up doll, hoping he won’t know the difference. Five minutes later, the terrorist comes out looking confused. “How was it?” the woman asks. “I’m not really sure,” the terrorist confesses. “I bit her on the tit and she farted and flew out the window.”
The 200th Blog
Now is the time for all good readers to come to the aid of their blogger. The deadline for contributions to our suggestion box is the end of the month. That’s right, this month. All you have to do is tell us which column or columns you liked best over the past four years, the better to advise our new readers what to scroll back and visit. No need for excessive details or column dates. Just something like “I like the one about the transvestite salamander.” And your obligations are fulfilled all the way up until the 300th column….and who knows if any of us will even be here then?
Derby Watch
WOW! Is it that time already? It is. This very Saturday comes the erstwhile Florida Derby at Hallandale’s Gulfstream Park, with a purse of a cool million. The favorite is Wildcat Red, who drew the rail in a field of a mere eight. John Velazquez will ride the horse for the first time. Breaking from the six hole will be General a Rod, who contested the pace all the way in the Fountain of Youth before giving it up by a head to Wildcat Red. General a Rod beat Wildcat Red earlier in the one-mile Gulfstream Park Handicap on New Year’s Day. Joel Rosario is in the irons. Cairo Prince, an easy winner of the Holy Bull Stakes in his only start as a three-year-old, will break from post three with Luis Saez aboard. Look for Wildcat Red to break on top from his rail gate and defy the field to catch him.
Florida Derby Favorite Wildcat Red, Inside
Go Gators!
The local community is all atwitter as the University of Florida basketball team battles through March Madness in quest of a slot in the Final Four. The Gators have made it to the Elite Eight four years running, the only team in the country to do so. A win in tonight’s 9:45 game against high-scoring UCLA would propel them right back into the same situation for 2014. Florida is the overall top seed for the Tournament but the competition is considerable. If we win, we promise not to overturn any automobiles or burn down any significant buildings. Everything else is fair game.
That’s all, folks….
We didn’t have any pets when we were kids because my sister, Alice (The Republican), had asthma and was allergic to everything. Alice didn’t even require animal intervention to throw her into an asthmatic fit, she could perform all on her own. Every time we turned around, there was Alice, turning blue, so off we went to the Lawrence General Hospital. Alice spent more time at the hospital than Dr. Marcus Welby. She had a stamp on her forehead that read, “If found unconscious, please deliver to Lawrence General.” We thought about just leaving her there but the room rates were atrocious.
Not having any pet experience can be scary because it takes a kid longer to learn the subtleties of animal thinking. You can’t necessarily tell whether Bowser down the street is considering biting your ass or whether he is just bluffing. And let me tell you, in those days there were a lot of Bowsers. Cities and towns didn’t have all these regulations they have today about animals on the loose. On a simple little trip to school, you could run into all kinds of trouble. When I was in the first grade, there was one dog in particular, the world’s largest collie, who insisted on following me for several blocks, barking all the way. I tried to convince him that Lassie and I were best friends, but he was having none of it. I took to carrying a large (and long) stick to discourage him but the stick just pissed him off. I told my father about this hound from hell but he just told me not to look him in the eyes (don’t worry about that, Dad) and not to run. Easy to say if you’re a big person with a very mean voice. Large dogs are not afraid of being scolded by choir boys.
I was thinking about all this the other day when I read about poor old Lee Palmer of Portland, Oregon, who, through no fault of his own, is now the laughingstock of his neighborhood and several other neighborhoods, as well. Seems like Lee is having cat problems with his 4-year-old part-Himalayan named Lux. Palmer says that his 7-month-old kid pulled Lux’s tail, something most part-Himalayans consider a significant affront to their dignity (and don’t we all?). The cat indicated his considerable displeasure by scratching the child, which he also called a “ratty little mofo,” according to Lee. Palmer, who despises cursing, animal-related or other, responded by kicking the cat, which, in retrospect, might have been a little bit of overkill. Highly offended by the ongoing shenanigans, Lux “just went over the edge,” said Palmer, who excitedly called 911 (and you wonder why the line is busy when you want to report that ledgesitter at your apartment building).
“HE’S CHARGING US!” Palmer screamed into the phone, as the cat was heard screeching in the background. “He’s got myself, my girlfriend and the baby cornered in a small room. He’s gone out of his mind!”
Gee. I’ve heard about Mighty Mouse, but who knew cats were this tough? In all fairness to Poppa Lee, I think I should point out that Lux is a VERY BIG feline with a scary demeanor. Palmer says the cat has a “history of bad behavior” but we don’t know if that means he’s been getting into the Skittles or turning over buses in the church parking lot. Anyway, the family gave Lux over to a Portland-area shelter temporarily before later deciding to keep him and enter therapy with a fellow possessing the dubious moniker of “Jackson Galaxy,” supposedly the star of an Animal Planet program called My Cat From Hell. Sounds like they’ve got the right guy. Galaxy reports that he only calls 911 when either actual flesh is being rendered or the cat has grown a mustache and is goose-stepping around the room.
Close The Door, They’re Coming In The Widows!
If you think Lee Palmer had a tough time, you’ll really sympathize with the following:
1. It’s The Least They Could Do, Having Taken Back Kathryn And All…. At the Anchorage, Alaska zoo, 29-year-old Australian tourist Kathryn Warburton climbed a fence and railing to get close-up photos of a polar bear named Binky, failing to realize that Binky just hates having his picture taken. After the polar bear registered his objection, Warburton was left with a broken leg and bite wounds. “It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” she admitted, needlessly. The zoo staff let Binky keep Kathryn’s shoe for three days before retrieving it.
2. Don’t Forget Your Boots, Phil! Oh, Mom—Do I Have To? California newspaper executive editor Phil Bronstein suffered a serious foot injury when he was attacked by a venomous Komodo Dragon at a Los Angeles zoo. Bronstein was shoeless at the time of the attack, having taken the advice of a zookeeper who told him his white sneakers might be mistaken for the rats often fed to the animals. The Dragon’s jaws crushed the casing of Bronstein’s big toe, requiring surgery to reattach several tendons.
3. This Hardly Ever Happens In Pflugerville. Ninety-four-year-old Australian sweetiepie Phyllis Johnson was outside, hanging her laundry, when a kangaroo appeared out of nowhere and bounded into her, knocking her off her feet and kicking her several times. The spunky woman tried to fend him off with a broom but, as we all know, kangaroos eat brooms for lunch. She finally managed to crawl away, was rushed to the hospital and lived, despite severe bleeding and a big footprint on her ass.
4. Cheryl Tiegs Would Have Laughed It Off. During a ride on the spanking-new rollercoaster Apollo’s Chariot at Busch Gardens Williamsburg, romance novel coverboy Fabio was smacked in the nose by a large, clumsy bird, bloodying his face and ending his not-so-fabulous day at the amusement park. “The damn bird could have chosen anyone on the ride,” wailed Fabio. “Why ME?”
“De Plane! De Plane!”
Little Bo-peep has lost her plane
And doesn’t know where to find it.
Leave it alone and it will come home,
Dragging its tail behind it.
Or maybe not. Hey, anybody hear about the lost airliner? Unless you live in a cave on the far reaches of the Kamchatka Peninsula, the answer could be “youbetcha”. CNN and its ilk have devoted non-stop, 25-hour-a-day coverage to the missing behemoth, right-wing radio has burst into a nova of wild and improbable speculations and unaffiliated conspiracy theorists are spilling over with glee. “I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again” was never so relevant.
We here at The Flying Pie, a non-discriminatory outfit, feel that somebody must be right. And the boring likelihood that “the plane fell in the ocean far away,” ala Amelia Earhart, isn’t much fun. So we feel an obligation, nay, a blinding compulsion, to investigate other possibilities, of which there is no dearth. Like, for instance, these:
1. It’s ‘Lost’ All Over Again. You remember the TV megahit ‘Lost’. Planeful of disparate types crashes on an island in the middle of nowhere, far off the shipping lanes, too remote for any possible radio contact. The island in this case was lush and provided sustenance. If this is what happened to Malaysia Airlines Flight 370, any passengers who survived the crash could live for years. Just think of it—they could be out there right now, building bonfires on the sand, constructing funky rafts, spearing wild, invisible hogs. If so, we’d like to make one simple request: Please do not allow your personal tragedy to deteriorate into the sad spectacle that was ‘Lost’, a book with no final chapter, a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, a runaway elephant of a television program which promised much and delivered little, the producers, obviously overwhelmed by the Frankenstein they had created, fleeing off into the hills, screaming their insane song. Just send us a postcard and save us the drama.
2. The Bermuda Triangle Moved. And why shouldn’t it, for all the business it was getting lately? Once the popular spot for spookily lost ships and entire military air squadrons which suddenly dropped off the map, the Triangle had fallen into disrepair, snagging only an occasional fishing trawler or low-flying glider. The problem was obvious: Everybody knew where the damn thing was—time to move on to more propitious climes. A silly little Malaysian pleasure flight would be easy and welcome pickings for the long-starved tentacles of the Triangle. I’m giving this one a big 8 on the scale of likely possibilities. It has a nice tune and you can dance to it.
3. The Aliens Did It. It’s always with the aliens. Can’t figure something out? The aliens must have done it. Have you ever asked yourself Do the aliens really CARE? And if so, aren’t they awfully busy with their other pursuits. You know—like disembodying cattle and kidnapping yokel redneck women to impregnate with their alien seed? Nope, I don’t give this one any legs. Not even those little teeny ones like the Martians are known to have.
4. The Terrorists Are Hiding It. This is a BIG favorite with the redneck radio yahoos, who tend to give those error-prone terrorists a little too much credit for guile and competence. From what we’ve seen, terrorists are the new Polacks, they botch up everything. Why haven’t the stand-up comedians picked up the ball on this one? There’s an endless stream of unspoken terrorist jokes out there. Oh, you don’t think so? Examples:
a. Did you hear the one about the terrorist who tried to blow up the ambassador’s car? He burned his lips on the tailpipe.
b. Muslim goes into a sex shop, asks for an inflatable doll.
“Male or female?” asks the clerk.
“Female.”
“Black or white?”
“White.”
“Christian or Muslim?”
“What’s the difference?”
“Muslim one blows itself up!”
c. “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Terrorist burglar.”
d. Terrorist goes into a whorehouse. The Madam is out of girls but thinks she can put one over on the terrorist, most of which lack intellectual clarity. She presents him with a blow-up doll, hoping he won’t know the difference. Five minutes later, the terrorist comes out looking confused. “How was it?” the woman asks. “I’m not really sure,” the terrorist confesses. “I bit her on the tit and she farted and flew out the window.”
The 200th Blog
Now is the time for all good readers to come to the aid of their blogger. The deadline for contributions to our suggestion box is the end of the month. That’s right, this month. All you have to do is tell us which column or columns you liked best over the past four years, the better to advise our new readers what to scroll back and visit. No need for excessive details or column dates. Just something like “I like the one about the transvestite salamander.” And your obligations are fulfilled all the way up until the 300th column….and who knows if any of us will even be here then?
Derby Watch
WOW! Is it that time already? It is. This very Saturday comes the erstwhile Florida Derby at Hallandale’s Gulfstream Park, with a purse of a cool million. The favorite is Wildcat Red, who drew the rail in a field of a mere eight. John Velazquez will ride the horse for the first time. Breaking from the six hole will be General a Rod, who contested the pace all the way in the Fountain of Youth before giving it up by a head to Wildcat Red. General a Rod beat Wildcat Red earlier in the one-mile Gulfstream Park Handicap on New Year’s Day. Joel Rosario is in the irons. Cairo Prince, an easy winner of the Holy Bull Stakes in his only start as a three-year-old, will break from post three with Luis Saez aboard. Look for Wildcat Red to break on top from his rail gate and defy the field to catch him.
Florida Derby Favorite Wildcat Red, Inside
Go Gators!
The local community is all atwitter as the University of Florida basketball team battles through March Madness in quest of a slot in the Final Four. The Gators have made it to the Elite Eight four years running, the only team in the country to do so. A win in tonight’s 9:45 game against high-scoring UCLA would propel them right back into the same situation for 2014. Florida is the overall top seed for the Tournament but the competition is considerable. If we win, we promise not to overturn any automobiles or burn down any significant buildings. Everything else is fair game.
That’s all, folks….
