Saturday, July 28, 2012


Baby Jane and Blanche On Bleeker Street.

Blanche and Jane are on the back patio on a warm summer morning.

Blanche: My, what a beautiful day. It feels so good to fill one’s lungs with fresh air.

Jane: ~cough, cough~ Yah, don’t it? Fresh air. The opium of the masses. ~puff, puff~

Blanche: Why Jane. You’re an early bird today!

Jane: ~spat, cough~ I didn’t wanna be. Those *&**%$# birds kept me awake! ~puff~

Blanche: Well come here, sit down and have your coffee. Jane sits. My! Smell the petunias and the fresh cut grass. Mr. Johnson is at it already. Such a fastidious man when it comes to his yard.

Jane: Oh! ~puff~ you bin a looking over the fence at Mr. Johnson and his big muscles.

Blanche: Why? What? Huh? Pardon? No, of course not. Jane how could you even think…

Jane: Look Sister Dear ~puff, cough, spat, puff~ I knows you peek at young Mr. Johnson when he’s stripped to the waist mowin’ his lawn. I sees ya from mah bedroom window!

Blanche: Oh, Jane Dear. Don’t be ridiculous. You just think you see me peeking through the fence boards as I wheel around the yard in my chair. I would never…

Jane: Hah! She would never! ~puff~ Well, I sees what I sees and I sees you salivatin’ all over yuhself. Hah! Hah!

Blanche: Now Jane, you are just being terrible with me. Just terrible! Now have your coffee. It’s getting cold. I’m going to turn on the hose and water my delphiniums.

Jane: Yes Blanche. You do that. Water your delphiniums right against the fence where the crack in those fence boards is widest, affordin’ you a pleasant view of what Mr. Johnson has to offer…

Blanche turns on the hose and sprays Jane

Jane: Accch! Now whaddahya want tuh go and do that for. ~puff, puff~. My blouse is drippin’ wet and you got some hose water in my coffee and on my ciggies!

Blanche: I just wanted to cool you down Jane. Your mouth was flappin’ so fast, I was afraid the friction might catch you on fire Sister Dear.

Jane: ~puff, soggy puff~ Very funny Blanche. Very funny! ~puff, soggy drag, puff~
Blanche: Hah! Hah! Hah! Oh, one more thing Jane. That guy who writes all this dialogue for us…

Jane: You mean that “Old Mr. Reid” Blanche? ~puff, drag, soggy puff~

Blanche: Yes, Jane Dear. Old Mr. Reid. Well, he’s celebrating a birthday he’s ~whisper~

Jane: Holy Shit! He really is Old!!

Blanche: Yes, Sister Dear. He really is... ~smile! ~

Tuesday, July 24, 2012


It’s a special day for us.
Our Yellow Lab Kiki turns 16!

It was a sunny, warm August morning-16 years ago when Tom and I walked downtown to the Farmer’s Market located- at the time, next to the Orillia Opera House. We wanted to buy some fresh, local corn, bread and tomatoes.
The usual garden foodstuffs and home-baked goods.
There’s no place better- or handier, than the Market.

We shopped a bit and had our usual sausage from the cart owned by folks out in Marchmount.

Eventually, we wandered to the far end of the market. The Andrews Street, North end.
Just ahead of us we saw a young lady sitting on top of a wall of railroad ties. The ties were the edging for a raised flower bed. Her legs were crossed, the right one swinging carelessly back and forth and up and down in a nervous flight. She was puffing continuously on a cigarette.
Beneath her, huddling on the hot asphalt in the late morning sun was a pair of yellowish, Labrador puppies- only a few weeks old at best.

We swooned. We already had two cats and a mini-schnauzer at home. We couldn’t even think of another dog!

“Those puppies are in the hot sun.”- I said as we stood there.

“The reply was terse- “I’ve only been here a few minutes!”

There was no water and no shade. Tom and I looked at each other. We couldn’t possibly have another dog- especially a puppy. Our lives were just too busy.

“How old are they?”- I asked.

“They were born on July 25th. The mother was a yellow lad. The Dad a Black Lab.”
She offered the information freely then added- “I just don’t know what I am going to do if I can’t get rid of these dogs today!”
She puffed and puffed and shook her leg even more.
Tom and I could plainly tell having these puppies was a great inconvenience for her.

We stood there for a few moments, concerned for the pups’ welfare, when suddenly a pair of arms pushed between us and snapped up one of the pups- a male, and swiftly walked away. We turned to see who it was but the man was lost in the crowd. The young lady didn’t blink an eye she just puffed some more.

In another moment- without even turning to Tom, I snatched up the other puppy.
We turned and walked away.

What the hell would we do a new pup?  Maybe we could find her a good home.
Yes, that is what we would do. Find a good home for the little sweetheart who was already snuggling in close to my chest, whimpering just a bit.
“You’re Okay now…” I whispered in one soft ear.

We walked home.
Unbeknownst to us, we had already fallen in love.
Fate had swooped in and pushed me forward to scoop up the puppy.
Well, she couldn’t stay with this person- could she?
What might happen if she wasn’t able to “get rid of the puppy”?
I shuddered to think.

Once we got home, Tom offered a fresh bowl of water to the youngster.
Our Schnauzer Samantha sniffed at her.
The cats were indifferent.
We made a couple of calls.
“Nope, we’re not ready for a dog- yet!” was the reply to both calls we made.

Then, we thought about a neighbour who had recently told us she was thinking about getting a dog. That particular morning Nancy she was overseeing a carwash- in aid of a local girls hockey team, in the parking lot of a nearby plaza. We drove over.
The kids screamed when they saw the puppy.
We were hopeful but the answer was no.

As we drove back home we knew our hearts were melting.
We looked at each other and realized- this puppy was home.
She was ours- forever.

Back at the house we re-introduced our new arrival to Samantha. In a few moments the two of them were running around the yard.
The cats were curious but indifferent- still.

Now, we had to shop for a new puppy who was taking up residence at Pine Tree House. A crate, food and most important of all- a trip to the vet.
He could see us later that afternoon.

It turned out she was healthy and just about 5 weeks old. We knew her birthdate but little else.

What about a name?
Later that day it was carved in stone.
Waikiki actually, for she was the colour of the sand on Waikiki Beach, a favourite
destination of ours.
So, Kiki it was and is to this day 16 years later!

Kiki is still going strong.
We love her to bits as we do all our animals- past and present.
Kiki has seen them all with the exception of our original Samantha- an Irish Setter, who never made the trip to Orillia.
Felines Max, Lucky and our Darling Luma who passed a couple of years ago at 10 from cancer, all knew Kiki and she knew them.
Kiki was trained in part by our first Schnauzer Sam and now loves to be with her sister Missy, our Schnauzer of 7 years.

In fact when Samantha died, there was a period of time when Kiki was the lone canine in the house. She mourned as did we.
Soon after, our cat Max passed and Lucky- our tabby, was alone too. We thought about another Schnauzer but always thought it was just too soon.
We still missed Sam way too much to share our love with another dog.

Then, one December day when I was walking Kiki down a snow-covered trail near our house, there was a man and his young son walking a Schnauzer just ahead. As they approached Kiki was so excited.
This Schnauzer was a carbon copy of Samantha.
Same colouring. Same disposition.
Kiki was so happy.
She barked and turned and looked up at me.
We knew she missed Sam too.
With tears in my eyes, I explained to the man and his son why Kiki was so excited and why I was so emotional.
Kiki looked up at me again with those beautiful brown eyes of hers and she told me- it was time to get another Schnauzer…

When Tom arrived home from a flight, I told him what had happened and he agreed- not without a few tears, that it was indeed the time.
One day, we brought Missy home from “Whiskers”.

So, Miss Kiki is 16.
She is the most wonderful dog.
As yellow as the day we got her. Sometimes a small strip of black from her Dad peeks through the blonde hair along the length of her tail.
In summer she bleaches out to a whitish-blonde.
In fact we call her “Blondie” at times.
She is a very happy girl.

We have had some medical concerns.
She sprained a leg during the first week she was home, tumbling in the yard with Samantha!
The cast on her leg stayed in place for about two days.

When she was nine we started to see Liver problems. The vet we had been using for more than Kiki’s nine years was ready to write her off.
“She’s had a good life.”- He said.

Not good enough for us.
That’s when we found Dr. Stephen Choles at Barrie Animal Hospital.
A naturopath vet.
A few remedies.
A change in diet and Kiki was doing better.
In fact at 16 years old her physical a few weeks back, told us her liver levels were lower than last year and “normal” for her.
We are happy.
There’s a small heart murmur- but nothing to worry about right now. There is medication if things progress.

She has some arthritis in her hind quarters.
She looks like she’s in pain when she tries to lie down but she never whines or winces.
“She’s stoic!”- says Doctor Choles. “You’ll never know when things are wrong. She protects you. She will never let you know!”
How true!

Even though she is 16, Dr. Choles says to let her run and walk all she wants. It’s keeping her mobile.
I’ll say!
She still does 13 stairs and jumps onto the bed.
Kiki is amazing!

She loves to go for walks- even in the heat of summer.
We try to pass a day by when the heat from the pavement is unbearable but Kiki is adamant, so we go a couple of blocks with a few stops for a refreshing drink of water along the way. I make a cup with my hands and Tom pours in some water.

When Tom or I are not feeling well or he’s snoozing from the jetlag of a long flight, Kiki is there, snuggling up close.
Watching out for us.
Being there.
Loving us.

Her eyes tell the story.
There is something so special and “other-worldly” about those beautiful, brown,  puppy eyes. It is difficult to explain but it makes me all emotional to think of how she looks at us.
...and her puppy kisses.
Pure ambrosia!
Always freely given and in abundance.

So, my Dear Kiki- sweet 16.
Your Dads can’t believe it.
People who ask can’t believe it either.
“My! She’s in good shape!” they say.

She’s a little thinner these days.
It comes with age.
She’s down 4 pounds from last year.
Dr. Choles has switched her food around and we are being extra diligent, seeing she eats- and finishes her food, twice a day.

Happy Birthday Dear Kiki- and many more.

When she was 10 I whispered in her ear one night before bed.
“Kiki…”- I whispered softly, “You have to stay with your Dads until you’re 20- at least.
Then, we’ll talk.”

So far she’s right on schedule

Friday, July 20, 2012


I was sitting on the verandah the other day when I thought- I haven’t talked to God in a long while.

So, I rung up his personal secretary Michael and asked if the Lord God was busy or did he have time to talk to me for a few minutes.

“Oh Goodness Rob, The Supreme Being always has time for you- someone who tells it like it is. You’re one of his favourite people you know- even though it’s likely you’ll burn in the fires of Hell for an eternity once you pass over!”

“Very Funny Michael, I’m sure.”

“Oh wow. You should have seen your face just then Rob! Hah! Hah!”

“How can you see my face Michael, you being in Heaven and all?”

“Heaven? Oh gosh no. We’re in Honolulu. We have cameras focused on many parts and people of earth. Heaven’s really a pretty ghastly, sparse habitat these days. Not a lot of people are settling here in the afterlife. It’s the fault of the Baptists and the Mormons. Who wants to live in a condo next door to one of them? Besides the Baptists and the born-agains really get on God’s nerves, so we moved to Honolulu last year. It’s pretty nice here. Have you been?”

“Oh yes. Many times.”

“Well, next time you’re on the Island, drop by.” Michael sounded sincere.


“No. Of course not! This is God we’re talking about not your Aunt Martha! You can’t just drop by anytime you like. Besides, God runs a Lemonade and Coconut stand on Kalakaua, so his schedule is rather full. Hah Hah!”

“Could you just put Our Father Who Art in Heaven on the phone?”

“Funny you should say that.”


“Our Father Who Art in Heaven. That’s what we all call him around here- Art.”


“Hah! Hah! Of course not! He’s just God to us. Cripes you’re too easy. Hold on a mo…”

I could still hear snickering as Michael connected me to God.

Then, I heard a deep, base voice through my phone.

“Well, Hello Rob.”

“Hello God. It’s great to hear your voice again!”

“This is a nice surprize Rob- You calling little old me. It’s been a while. You know, it doesn’t happen often enough.”

“What doesn’t- Your Honour?”

“People calling me.”

“Sir, I thought people talked to you every night. You know – Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord….”

I heard a deep hearty laugh.

“Oh, Lions and Leeches! That old chestnut? You know, I’ve always had trouble hearing people. Too many at once. Crossed lines, I guess. Everybody wanting things. Good Health. A New Car. A lover. A bigger Penis…”

“A bigger Penis? Guys actually ask for that, God?”

“My Stars, of course they do. Know, I happen to now you’ve never asked because I gave you a Bi…”

“Ahhhh. Yes, well on another topic Your Highness, Michael tells me you’ve moved to Hawaii. Must be nice.”

“Yes, last year I pulled up stakes and moved here. I love the ocean and the trade winds. Actually, I have to be downtown in about an hour to open my Lemonade and Coconut Stand on Kalakaua Avenue.”

“So Michael tells me. Is that lucrative?”

“Oh well, it keeps me out of the poor house and it’s a lot of fun meeting people, talking to them one to one instead of this conception of me with a crown of gold on top of my old, graying locks and sitting in this big be-jewelled throne passing judgement all the day long. That’s such a lot of hooey!”

“Do people actually recognize you at your lemonade Stand?”

“Lemonade and Coconut Stand. Sometimes, I see a certain twinkle in their eye. My friend Santa Claus who runs a Sno Cone stand right next to me is recognized much more often?
“Santa Claus lives in Hawaii too?”

“In the off season, of course!”

“Of course...”

“No, it’s not a constant but people do believe they know who I am. I just give them a look and blindside them. It wouldn’t do if the Honolulu Advertiser discovered that I ran my stand and plastered it all over the front page. Good Gosh, with today’s social media, I’d be the top story of the day in no time! Why I’d take that actor fellah playing with his dinky in a darkened movie theatre right to page two! Hee! Hee! ”

“Yes, I guess you would. So, would it be a silly question if I asked- what else is new?”

“No Rob. Not at all. I guess things are pretty much the same. Miss Hellzapoppin my liaison back in Heaven says the request are still coming in- although not as many as there once were. I thought this religion thing with me as the focal point would have died off years ago. It’s had a good run. I mean really, all that time ago I suggested a mathematical equation to Mr. Beaker- head of my scientific department that would make an ice cream cone that wouldn’t melt. Well, he added another plus and minus sign, some H20 and a few triple EE’s to the second power and whamo- I have this planet.”

“So are you saying the creation of Earth was just a fluke?”

“Yes Rob, I am. Earth should have been an ice cream cone!”


“Indeed it was- and is, Rob. Then back a few thousand years ago right after the dinosaurs- I can’t remember exactly when. Michael is the numbers guy, some people- men mostly, were looking for someone to put on a pinnacle and make Holy and make stuff happen...”

“Stuff, God?”

“Yes, stuff like knocking the Romans down a peg or two and keeping the Thessalonians in their place. Oh, then someone got the brain wave to write this all down- most of it a farcical re-write of how things actually were, calling it the Good Book. Good Book? Bedknobs and Broomsticks- have you ever tried to motor through it? What a dis-jointed bunch of confusing claptrap!”

“My. That’s rather strong language for you, Sir.”

“Well, it’s all mixed up Rob. Love and respect one another. Marvel at the warmth of the sun. Wonder at the petals of a flower. Suck up a Martini now and then…”

“A Martini?”

“Martinis are one of the most civilized creations on this very earth. I have one or two every day about 6PM under the shade of a Banyan Tree just sitting there just looking out over the Pacific Ocean. Good for the soul- and listen Rob, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“…But what about all these church goers and your sheep.”

“A waste of time. I just started a little experiment that went a little wrong...”

“The ice cream cone?”

“Exactly, Rob! Things spiralled out of control and now look at the mess of the world. People shooting People. People killing People. Nations again Nations. People against People. Stephen Harper taking power… Some days I have a good mind to start all over again, but it’s not my problem. It never was my problem, Rob. Humanity tried to stick it to me. Bunch of Assholes those religious potheads!”

“Wow! I never expected this outpouring from you. I must confess, great parts of life and living are in dis-array but life can be wonderful. There are little ups and downs. We all reach a crossroads now and then but with a little patience and love, we can move on.”

“Exactly! That is life. It’s not a big deal. People make it a big deal. Enjoy it. It can be lovely. People- especially people with power, create all life’s problems. Oh, say! Look at the time. I have to get on down to my stand. Have to get squeezing those lemons. Hey Rob, you know what?”


“If people are handed a lemon in life…they should make lemonade. How’s that?”

“That is a good one God. A real good one. Thanks for this…”

“Anytime my boy. Take Care.”

“You too, God. You too…”

Monday, July 16, 2012


Readers: Today’s RobBlog is a “quirky little story that came to me a few days ago. I wrote down a few quick facts and lines of dialogue that instantly came to mind. Then a day or two later I flushed out the entire story.
That, as well.

Mrs. Tiddleworth Comes to Terms

It was a warm, pleasant mid-winter morning in Sunnidale.
The sky was clear and the thermometer hovered around 48 degrees Celsius.
A cooling trend to be sure.
It was wintertime after all.

Officer Big and Tall was patrolling the Southside neighbourhood of Sunnidale when he happened upon Mrs. Tiddleworth’s charming turn of the last century homestead. A steady exhaust of dryer heat emanated from a vent on the north wall of the home alongside the Hollyhocks- which were in full, brilliant bloom.

Officer Big and Tall walked up Mrs. Tiddleworth’s front walk lined on left and right with rich, green succulents and colourful pansies.
He knocked gently on her front door.

In a few moments, Mrs. Tiddleworth opened the door. From behind the screen, Officer Big and Tall could see she was dressed in a gingham house frock and was holding a tea towel in her left hand. Her hazel hair was done up in a bun.

“Oh! Officer Big and Tall. This is an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you on this fine January morning?” Mrs.Tiddleworth seemed genuine enough.
“Can I offer you a hot tea or lemonade? My Xtra can pour a glass fro you and we can sit in the garden.”

“I am sorry this is not a social call for procurement of sexual relations or other niceties Mrs. Tiddleworth. I am afraid I am here on police business.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Tiddleworth seemed surprized but she didn’t blink a lash.

“Now then Mrs. Tiddleworth-” Officer Big and Tall tried to sound authoritative. “It appears your clothes dryer is running at a steady pace and you must know the local bylaw requires you to use your clothes dryer only when the temperature is below 40 degrees Celsius. According to my temperature gage Mrs. Tiddleworth, we are currently at a handsome- yet coolish 48 degrees. How do you explain that?”

“Oh my stars!” Mrs. Tiddleworth was caught off guard. “I hadn’t looked at my thermometer in the back garden but I was sure it was much, much cooler. It is the dead of winter after all Officer Big and Tall and I really need to dry my sheets and towels.”

“Perhaps hanging them on the fence that runs along your property might be a better suggestion?” Officer Big and Tall waited for her answer.
He didn’t have to wait long.
“Indeed it would be Officer Big and Tall, only I am afraid I am not lanky enough to fling the sheets over the fence. It is pretty high, as you can well see.”
Mrs. Tiddleworth pointed in the direction of the vinyl-clad fence.

Officer Big and Tall looked Mrs. Tiddleworth directly in the eye for a moment, then said-
“Perhaps it is but nonetheless, there is a heavy penalty for using that air dryer of yours and the law if the law. Think of all the extra heat being released on an already warmish afternoon.”

“Oh Dear!”
Mrs. Tiddleworth, sighed heavily.
“I suppose you’re right. You’ll want my youngest then.”

“Yes indeed. I am afraid I will. You know the heat law. There is no other way around it.
I have already been tracked to your address Mrs. Tiddleworth. The charge has been effectively laid! Your youngest child must be stoned in the marketplace for your transgression and to the amusement of the village elders.”

“Goodness. I was hoping that this special child would escape such a fate but...”

“The law is the law!”
Officer Big and Tall began to tap his right foot on Mrs. Tiddleworth’s front step.

“But Officer Big and Tall, what about the Christians? Surely you can round up a young one  to be stoned in place of my young one.”

Officer Big and Tall hiked up his uniform trousers and replied- “Well, it appears the Christians these past weeks are few and far between. They’ve taken to the forests and the caves out in the hills. We don’t have the manpower to track ‘em down Mrs. Tiddleworth. You can see my problem. Personally, I would gladly substitute a Christian instead of your young daughter.”

“Oh yes. I can see exactly.” Mrs. Tiddleworth stepped from behind the screen door and out onto the porch next to the officer.”

“I wish there was a solution. Little Betsy- that’s my youngest, will turn 9 next week and we were planning a birthday celebration of sorts.”

“Risky, at best.”- said Officer Big and Tall.

They both stood in the shade of the freshly-painted porch roof for a minute or two. One could tell they were both thinking- long and hard!

“You know, Mrs. Tiddleworth…”

“Yes Officer Big and Tall. You have a solution?”

‘Well now, some of the government folks have been talking about ships coming across the great ocean loaded to the brim with all ages and sizes of Xtras!”

“You don’t say!”
There was hope in Mrs. Tiddleworth’s voice.

“I do!” – said Officer Big and Tall.” These ships were bringing hundreds upon hundreds of Xtras- slaves, if you pardon my language Mrs. Tiddleworth…”

“Oh Dear me! Of course I do. I mean a man in your position Officer Big and Tall has to be allowed to remove himself from pleasantries now and then.” Mrs. Tiddleworth smiled as she looked directly into Officer Big and Tall’s deep set brown eyes.

He continued.
“Did you know the researchers at the Institute are discovering they used to do that several thousand years ago?”

“No!” Mrs. Tiddleworth was over-acing just a bit.

“Yes. Apparently they use to haul in shipfulls of poor slaves and when they came to these shores they had to work at something called slavery. In fact Professor TooToo told me these slaves were something like our Xtras of today.”

“My Goodness! What next?” Mrs. Tiddleworth covered her mouth with her tea towel.
Then she said-
“Do you suppose one of these Xtra’s- not the Christian ones- the ship bound ones, could
stand for my youngest at the stoning?”

Officer Big and Tall removed his cap and scratched his head.
“I don’t see why not. They are just as worthless as those Christian runners. Leave it with me Mrs. Tiddleworth. I need to report this infraction regarding your hot dryer but I will invite the Justice over to my house for a Hot Sauna and suggest he revert the sentence to a freshly arrived Xtra.”

“Oh I am so delighted Officer Big and Tall. I shall be able to plan Betsy’s 9th Birthday after all!” She paused and looked up into Officer Big and Tall’s face and used all her womanly whiles as she said-
Now, how about some hot tea and a great big piece of my Apple Dumpling fresh from the Oven…I ummmm... mean my larder?”

Officer Big and Tall smiled warmly.
“I suppose there’s no harm in that. Maybe you can give me an all-over massage after we exchange pleasantries and I eat your hot pie!”
“I would be delighted Officer Big and Tall. After you I’m sure.”

She motioned to the front door with a tea-towelled hand.
Officer Big and Tall stepped across the threshold into her house.

Mrs. Tiddlesworth followed him through the door, admiring his rock hard bum as she
did so.

Thursday, July 12, 2012


…and now, here’s NEWS from the Country. This was a story posted recently in the
The Crabtree Herald News.

The  C R A B T R E E  Herald

Weather: “Hot enuff for ya?”
Copy Price: 15 cents


Crabtree, Ontario (local): by Winnie Whynot

Matilda Beaufort told Millie Cox who told Miranda Tannenbaum who told Delsie Dickenson who eventually told me (after she shot down to Costco to buy Herbie her 2nd husband- after Arthur left her for that 63 year old floosie from Beamsville- some new Stanfields) that the old White House along the lane has been bought by City Folks!

Now, we're talking not only a couple of full-blown Catholics here (according to Millie Cox) but a couple of middle-aged Gentlemen who are apparently sharing the place.

Tillie Beckman told Mollie Seafoam yesterday- when they both stopped for corn at Karl Hansen's stand, that these two boys are not what you would term "the good-old variety". Tillie says that she heard for a fact that they didn't even vote for Garfield Dunlop in the last election but might have voted for that commie NDP guy.
Now- that’s queer! Ain’t it?

Of course, nowadays even the Liberals have some commie leanings. Poor Old Mr. Dunlop must be beside himself knowing that he alone is upholding all that remains of chastity and righteousness when it comes to normal people like us who still know the meaning of the word family- for pete's sake. Of course, that does not include Mary-Anne Brown who has been seen twice at the Farmer’s Market in Orillia with a tall, dark-haired man.

Now, Tillie also says that these two, unrelated boys know a lot about music, flowers and decorating stuff. The agent’s identity I must protect under the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. That’s the same one that protects those same-sexually people who should just move to Africa or Botswana if they think it's so bad out here.
She also says they’ve been seen "out on the town" once or twice with others of “their same ilk”.

Now, this here agent has called these two who have bought the place- “a little light in the loafers”. My first cousin Barney was that way too and they sent him for therapy. I think the doctor gave him an insert for one or both shoes and it seemed to clear it right up.

Anyways we should say welcome to these gentlemen.

Malcolm that big strapping lad at the Pioneer Station- the one with arm muscles bigger than watermelons, told me that he'll be helping them move in.
“Just a neighbourly thing to do”-  Malcolm says.

Good Lord! When is that boy gonna start wearing underwear? A couple of weeks back I stopped by for premium unleaded and I swear to Mary Magdalene I saw something big sticking right outta those cut off shorts of his.
Connie Tagalong- who was in the car with me, said I was probably just seeing the tail of his winder-cleaning brush stickin' outta his pocket.

Lands Sakes that boy is always strokin' his hair or something these days but he does do a good pump job for everyone!

Well at least the newcomers will have a friend right off the bat.

One last other bit of news…

Manny Kravitz has still been underselling Harold Nutsley on the price of eggs every weekend out at the Organic Market in Goon City. Harold tells me he'll have brown eggs at the market come Saturday and they'll be up a bit in price.

So Manny Krevitz- if you're reading this, Harold says:
“Up yours too!”

That's it till next week.