January 5, 2014
Loon: I hardly know what to do with today’s subject for the 3 Question Interview. A hairy beast some 10 feet tall is right now staring at me and muttering I don’t know what, but frankly it doesn’t seem to be all that friendly. Yeti, is your hair white because you’re old, or were you always thusly endowed?
Yeti’s ghost: To tell you the truth, I don’t recall. You look tasty. What flavor are you?
Loon (edging away): No flavor at all. Tasteless. What’s your favorite flavor?
Yeti’s ghost (musing, claw at chin): That’s a real poser. Some days I like something in the butterscotch line. Other days I favor coffee. Or blood.
Loon (nervous): I like coffee, too. Coffee is very good. I have coffee. Lots of it. Would you like a cup?
Yeti’s ghost: A cup? Are you implying that I would be satisfied with A SINGLE CUP?!!!! AARRRGHHH!!!!! BLOOOOD!!!!
Loon (fleeing): Byeeeee.
January 4, 2014
When sisters Minnie and Helen Cloverdale founded their secret society, The Target and Strangulation Club, little did they realize the sort of journey on which they had embarked. For lo, a multi-billionaire strolling along the sidewalk adjacent to the Cloverdale home spied the satin costumed sisters as they conducted a meeting perched in their treehouse. Inquiring as to what they were about, the wealthy fellow received the following information: “Nuts to you!” Chuckling at the siblings’ audacity, the rich industrialist, for that’s what he was, sped to his nearest mansion, had a minion discover the identity of the sisters, and subsequently wrote the girls a check for three quarters of a billion dollars. This naturally encouraged Minnie and Helen no end. They spent the rest of their lives smiling and in costume.
January 2, 2014
Success was the reward earned by Sam’s merry band of hippies in the search for Twinkies.
January 1, 2014
Young Uncle Sam once rang in the new year by:
a. rowing across Lake Michigan with his eyes closed.
b. interviewing a famous talking hen.
c. dashing through the snow.
d. leading a band of merry hippies in pursuit of Twinkies.
December 31, 2013
On New Year’s Eve Harrison Grieve always dines on oats.
‘I do so because,’ he told his cuz, ‘it keeps away the goats.’
‘How does that work?’ asked his cousin, James Burke, a skeptic from the west.
Harry replied, I keep closed one eye and dab mustard all over my vest.’
Not being a dunce, Burke left at once. Rapidly did he go.
At home his goat did gleefully gloat, ‘See? I told you so.’
December 30, 2013
To begin, fell several trees and bustle about turning them into logs. Build a wagon, load it with the logs, and haul them to the beach. Next, get yourself some rope, a whole lot of rope. Bind your logs together into an attractive patterned house frame. Following this activity, set yourself aside and partake of the contents of Granny’s jug. When you emerge from your coma two weeks later, take some time, at least three days, to regain the ability to walk. Having reached this plateau, return to the beach and decide whether or not you still want to live. If yes, abandon the project, move to Barstow, and open a bead shop. If no, swim out into the middle of the lake and refuse rescue by anything not a pterodactyl.
December 29, 2013
Loon: Today as the old year totters to its conclusion, the 3 question interview welcomes the ghost of yet another former President of the United States, William McKinley Taft. Mr. President, how many pairs of shoes did you own?
Taft’s ghost: Are you going to eat that cruller?
Loon: No, I’m done. Take it, by all means. Tasty, isn’t it?
Taft’s ghost: What about that stuff behind you?
Loon (holds up bunch of celery): This?
Taft’s ghost: No. That. (points to pie cooling on window sill)
Loon: Have at it, Mr. President. Looks like I ran out of questions by accident, didn’t I? Oh, well. Same time next week. Don’t miss it. (leaves)
(Taft’s ghost consumes pie, plate it was resting on, window sill, 2 portraits hanging on the wall, and a tin of sardines before disembodying.)
December 28, 2013
I write this by the light of the Lumogaz lamp on the round wooden table in the barn at Roques.
No, not the first sentence of a ripping yarn. Yes, from Michael’s most entertaining Diaries 1969-1979, The Python Years.
December 27, 2013
She never should have given Goofy that first fateful tic tac.
