"The sound of Lincoln turning over in his grave -- that's the Republican revolution."
Lyrics by Roy (formerly of The Foremen) Zimmerman



We were away last weekend performing in two shows as "Funnk and Mundaigne" and others, in "George Tirebiter's Radio Follies," written and directed by David Ossman at the South Whidbey Island Arts Center off the Seattle coast, which were recorded for rebroadcast locally on KSER, 90.7 FM, sometime in the fall, and possible future syndication as part of David and Judith's Otherworld series. By the way, Melinda got the lion's share of the exit applause for her spirited portrayals -- but after all, she is a Leo. It was great fun for all, with Cat coming all the way from Canada and some other Bozos by bus all the way from Long Beach to see us!

The weather was perfect, and we stayed at a totally charming B&B called the Pine Cottage, surrounded by towering trees topped by an eagle and overlooking some dazzling strait. Funnk & Mundaigne stayed at the Old Alcohol Plant in Port Hadlock.

Adventures on the road included finding a brochure for a cellular phone offering "one battery eliminator and carrying case..." and some swell lines on a great old bomb on TNT, an unidentified vintage one-hour black-n-white early Sci-Fi anthology show featuring Adam West and Ted Knight.

It was about a Martian landing party from Earth being attacked by dragon-like handpuppets from a Sea of Sand! "Keep your shirt on! barks Commander Batman, "Calculations always take longer than decisions." And later, the head of the party back on earth explains to Senator Ted Baxter, "A computer always reveals the obvious with the felicity of an elephant."

We also caught the replay of an interview with the vindicated Archie Bunker who said: "I joined the organization for a drug-filled America..." before correcting himself.



In a Leipzig elevator:

Do not enter the lift backwards, and only when lit up.

In a Bucharest hotel lobby:

The lift is being fixed for the next day. During that time we regret that you will be unbearable.

In a Belgrade hotel elevator:

To move the cabin, push button for wishing floor. If the cabin should enter more persons, each one should press a number of wishing floor. Driving is then going alphabetically by national order.

In a Paris hotel elevator:

Please leave your values at the front desk.



From the Aug 1-7 Buzz weekly, in the "Buzz Saw" column edited by Radee Harris III: "Who says actress-models can't be intellectual?" It seems that Amanda De Cadenet fell into the Heritage Book Shop in Beverly Hills looking for a first-edition of Shakespeare. When the salesperson explained "that no such thing existed," De Cadenet countered that "money was no object," adding, "This is for a gift, and it has to be autographed, too." (Edgar "No" Bullington)



This essay from Harper's Magazine, August 1990, by Hugh Gallagher, then eighteen, won first prize in the humor category of the 1990 Scholastic Writing Awards. It originally appeared in the May issue of Literary Cavalcade published by Scholastic in New York City.

3A. ESSAY -- in order for the admissions staff of our college to get to know you, the applicant, better, we ask that you answer the following question: are there any significant experiences you have had, or accomplishments you have realized, that have helped to define you as a person?

"I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.

"I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

"Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets. I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hand gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

"I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned my fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.

"I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby-Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish and entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

"I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four-course meals using only a Mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

"But I have not yet gone to college."

From the "What's So Funny?" mailing list at http://www-ece.engr.ucf.edu/~bmo/wsf.html, by way of Harris Mike.



Fred Wiebel's report from the Monster's Bash in Ligonier, PA included these tasty tidbits. "Before the festivities completely churned the stomachs of the pun-parched participants, the in-house feasting establishment offered up an irresistible menu."

For Breakfast: Eggs The Unknown (2 alien eggs, Turhan Bacon, Texas Chain Sawsage, Hammer, Ghost Toast with a Blob of Jelly), Mourning Boo-Fay (Strangled eggs, Cold cereal killers, Bagel Lugosi with scream cheese, Vasarian Wolfles, Flesh fruit, Gravefruit half, Juicferatu, Dracular or Decapitated Coffin, etc.)

Lunch and Dinner: Cabinet of Dr. Calimari Rings, Crabmonster stuffed toadstools, Hypnotic Eye-talian sausage, Splatter-dipped Goulardi-choke hearts, Ghastly Pasta Dishes, Petit Lorre Filet of Beast, Filet Megalon, along with It Came From Beneath Seafood platters, all served with various Dark Sides: Edgar Allan Poe-tato Salad, Ghoulslaw, Dwight Fryed Potatoes, Dungeon Rings and Marble Garden tossed salad. (Yum...)



According to an item on am710 news last week, "Dudley Moore made his wife dance nearly nude for 20 hours a day..." He kept crying, "Moore! Moore!"



In any species of warm-blooded animal, the farther north you go, the bigger that animal. Take bear or deer. But in any species of cold-blooded animal, the farther north you go, the smaller that animal. Take the turtle or cockroach....please. Curious, what? This generality is called Bergman's Principle. (Sampler!)



A guy goes into confession and says to the priest, "Father, I'm 80 years old, married, have four kids and 11 grandchildren, and last night I had an affair, and I made love to two 18 year old girls. Both of them. Twice."

The priest said: "Well, my son, when was the last time you were in confession?"

"Never Father, I'm Jewish."

"So then, why are you telling me?"

"I'm telling everybody."



NEW YORK, July 22 (UPI) -- A Manhattan commodities broker has reportedly bought the piece of Evander Holyfield's ear that Mike Tyson bit off during their bizarre bout last month. Daily News columnists George Rush and Joanna Molloy report 30-year-old Pete Stevens says he paid over $18,000 to an MGM security guard for the piece of ear, which he plans to put in formaldehyde.



I have an earache...

2000 B.C. - Here, eat this root.

1000 A.D. - That root is heathen. Here, say this prayer.

1850 A.D. - That prayer is superstition. Here, drink this potion.

1940 A.D. - That potion is snake oil. Here, swallow this pill.

1985 A.D. - That pill is ineffective. Here, take this antibiotic.

2000 A.D. - That antibiotic is artificial. Here, eat this root. (Harris Mike)



Valles Marineris (MPI) - A spokesthing for Mars Air Force denounced as false rumors that an alien space craft crashed in the desert, outside of Ares Vallis on Friday. Appearing at a press conference today, General Rgrmrmy The Lesser, stated that "the object was, in fact, a harmless high-altitude weather balloon, not an alien spacecraft".

The story broke late Friday night when a major stationed at nearby Ares Vallis Air Force Base contacted the Valles Marineris Daily Record with a story about a strange, balloon-shaped object which allegedly came down in the nearby desert, "bouncing" several times before coming to a stop, "deflating in a sudden explosion of alien gases."

Minutes later, General Rgrmrmy The Lesser contacted the Daily Record telepathically to contradict the earlier report, stating that hysterical stories of a detachable vehicle roaming across the Martian desert were blatant fiction, provoked by incidences involving swamp gas.

But the general public has been slow to accept the Air Force's explanation of recent events, preferring to speculate on the "other-worldly" nature of the crash debris. Conspiracy theorists have condemned Rgrmrmy's statements as evidence of "an obvious government cover-up, " pointing out that Mars has no swamps.



My daughter, Kristin, arrives on Tuesday from Oslo for a brief summer visit and soon thereafter, Melinda and I will be off to the Least Coast to celebrate her Highschool Reunion and see some overpriced plays. If the Planet orbit seems erratic, don't worry. "I'll be bacccckkkk...." Have a great summer!


PP (8/3/97)


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 Published 8/03/97

1996/2002 by Phil Proctor