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| Here we will be posting ArtNotes previously published in the Lone Tree Leader. We will add more ArtNotes from time to time. |
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We do too .... It was a beautiful December evening when Patron and his girlfriend Evangelina gathered up a bottle of muscatel, a blanket, a bag of nachos and of course, Patron's guitar. After arriving at their secret get-away spot upon the banks of the Namlig River far south of Afar and Beyond, Patron and his beloved lazed the time away staring at their campfire and watching a romantic full moon make its graceful arc across the star laden sky. "Mamacita," Patron cooed as he snuggled up to his raven-haired beauty, "let's do weeweechu. Please!" "No, no," Evangelina replied softly, "let's just watch the moon and dream dreams of dreamers." "I am dreaming," Patron responded, "I love you and we're all alone. It's the perfect time to do weeweechu. Please!" Finally giving in to Patron's begging and the tears welling up in his eyes, Evangelina said, "Okay, okay, Patron! We will do weeweechu, but just once," she declared, "and it will be a long time before we do it again!" Patron hastily grabbed his guitar and they both sang, "Weeweechu a Merry Christmas, Weeweechu a Merry Christmas, Weeweechu a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year." Aj Jack Daniel's Stonecold Christmas Cookies A good friend of mine that lives on the outskirts of Hither sent me his favorite cookie recipe. "There's nothing I like better," he said, "than putting on my frilly apron and baking up a batch of these for my friends." We'll just call the guy Kevin. Here are the ingredients and the instructions for Kevin's Stonecold Christmas Cookies: 1 cup of water 1 tsp baking soda 1 cup of sugar 1 tsp salt 1 cup of brown sugar 4 large eggs 1 cup nuts 2 cups of dried fruit 1 bottle Jack Daniel's Whiskey. 1/2 gallon of flower First of all, sample the Jack Daniels to check quality and of course, purity. Then, take a large bowl and carefully place on counter. Check the Jack Daniels again. Pour one level cup and drink. Turn on the electric mixer and carefully mix some of the ingredients. Check the Jack Daniels again. Beat up on the stuff in the bowl with the thing that mixers. Carefully add one peastoon of sugar. (Before mixin' again, it's best to make sure the Jack Daniels elixir is still okay. Test by having another cup or even two cups, to make doubly sure.) Turn off the mixerer thingy and carefully break two leggs and add to the bowl with the dried fruits. Check on Jack again and then, mix on the turner. (If the fried druits gets stuck in the beater, just pry 'em loosed with your kitchen srewscriver.) Turn off mixerer and check Jack for tonsisticity. Next, carefully sift two cups of salt or something that will sift. Aferall, who geeves a sheet. After that, add the jemon luice and strain your nuts. Add a table, a spooner of sugar and greaser up the oven panner. Check on Jack. Put in oven. (Not Jack; the dookie coe.) After 10-minutes or so, check on cookies. Turn on oven. Finally, don't forget to beater off the turner and put all of your fools into the wishdasher. Aj Oh, poo! Over the past few years in the community of Hither, there's been a bit of a discussion or even controversy if you will, regarding the town's fresh water supply. Some of the folks are concerned about water contaminants. A scientist at the famed Kowalski Laboratory said that in some parts of the country up past Afar and Beyond and not far from the State of Chicago, that if you were to drink just one liter of water a day, at the end of the year your body would have absorbed more than one kilo (2.2 lbs.) of Escherichia coli, or E. coli; a bacteria found in feces! Simply put, these poor folks are ingesting...well, poo! Fortunately, a number of residents around Hither and even Yon do not run the risk of bacterial infection having found that drinking wine and beer removes the worry since both are highly fermented, filtrated and purified. All of that making perfect sense, it is therefore better to consume wine and beer and talk stupid, than to drink water and be full of crap. The high price of gas You could tell she had class the minute she opened the door to the auto dealership. Heads turned when her high-heel boots clickety-clicked across the floor as she headed toward a dressed-out Hummer. Recognizing that it was Dolly Kowalski from the well endowed Kowalski clan from Hither and Yon, the sales manager followed at a discreet distance. Carefully peeling off her gloves, she thrust her head into the Hummer for a closer look. But just as she bent in further to feel the luxurious leather unholstery, a totally unexpected little burst of flatulence escaped from her drawers! Embarrassed and red faced, she cautiously fanned the air with her gloves and looked around to see if anyone noticed. She was startled to see the sales manager right behind her. I think his name was Chuck. "Well, hello, Dolly!" He said. "How can we help you today?" Struggling hard to maintain a Kowalski air of sophistication and acting as though nothing had happened, Dolly smiled and asked, "Chuck, what is the price of this lovely lime green Hummer?" "Dolly," he answered, "if you farted and passed gas while you were just touching it, you're gonna crap when you hear the price." Rot gut You could tell there was something wrong with the ol' timer. For over an hour he'd been sitting there at Kowalski's Bar and Revival Centre just staring blankly at his drink with a troubled look on his face. Suddenly though the side door swung open and the joint got stone cold quiet when a big and rough looking biker named Kevin strode into the bar and took up a place or two next to the troubled man. Not wanting to wait for a drink, the biker grabbed the man's drink and slugged it down with one swig. Then he belched and passed gas. The old timer started crying. "Aw, come on, man," the biker guy said, "I was just kiddin' with ya - don't be all upset. I can't stand to see a man cry!" Feeling sorry for the old man, Kevin ordered up another drink for the guy. "Oh," the old man said sadly, "maybe I don't need a drink, but this has been the worst day of my life. First, I oversleep. I get to work late and the boss fires me. When I leave the building, I discover my car's been stolen!" "My word!" The biker declared, "That's dastardly!" "That's not all," the old timer says, "my wallet with all my money and credit cards and cellphone was in the car too." In a touching gesture of understanding, Kevin offered his bandanna to stem the flow of tears flowing down the old man's wrinkly face. "Worse yet," the old timer went on between sniffles, "I walked all the way from Hither to my home in Yon and found the junk man in bed with my wife! Then, just when I was thinking about putting an end to my miserable existence, you show up and drink my poison!" |