The Genesis Of Mail

In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without mail, and void. So God said, “Let there be mail,” and there it was.

2  God saw the mail, that it was plentiful and multiplied, and so God divided the occupant from the personal. And God called the occupant, “Junk,” and the personal, He called, “Personal.”

3  Then God said, “Let there be a postal office, and let it divide small boxes among those who would receive, though it be more blessed to send.”

4  And God said, “Let there be stamps, bulk rate, and second-day delivery.”

5  Finally, God said, “I will make a mailman in my image, after my likeness, and let him have dominion over the mail, and postcards shall read he them.”

6  But later, the Lord God said, “It is not good that the mailman should be alone.” And so he caused a deep sleep to fall upon the mailman, and took one of his ribs, and made He a mailwoman, and brought her unto the mailman.

7  The mailman said, “This is now bone of my bones and employee of my civil service. She shall be called: mailperson.”

8  They both were naked, except for their bags.

9  Later on, the Lord God planted a garden, in the lower east side of Eden, and there He put the mailpersons He had formed, and the postal office of which He had made thee it.

10  After that, the Lord God commanded the mailpersons saying, “Of every tree of the postal grounds, thou mayest freely eat, but of the tree of the knowledge of collective bargainings, thou shall not eat of it, for in the day that thou eatest thereof, thou shalt surely be attacked by all manner of dog and die.”

11  But the civil serpent said unto the mailwoman: “If ye eat of the tree of the knowledge of collective bargainings, ye shall not die, for God doth know that in the day ye eat of the tree, then, your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing of work stoppages and calling in sick.”

12  The mailwoman desired the fruit of the tree and did eat. She gave also unto the mailman and he did eat. The eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked, except for their bags, and so they sewed many fig leaves together, making postal uniforms.

13  Suddenly, the Lord God called unto the mailman and said, “Why hide you he in underbrush thus?”

14  And the mailman said, “I am looking for my chronograph!”

15  Coyly, the Lord God said, “Who told thee that thou had no wristwatch?”

16  The mailman answered, “The mailperson whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me of the tree, C.O.D.”

17  Sternly, the Lord God said unto the mailwoman, “What the hell is this thou hast done?”

18  The mailwoman replied, “The civil serpent beguiled me.”

19  Unto the mailpersons God said: “Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of the civil serpent, ye shall drive in tiny Jeeps, and delivereth all manner of mail to distant places of dwelling which in turn shall contain multitudes of rude dogs. I will greatly multiply thy sorrow, and in sorrow shall the mailwoman bring forth tiny mailpersons. They shall multiply in the earth, and shall be cursed above all cattle, above every beast of the field, and above all manner of living thing, except for used car salesmen.”


 ~ by Russ Allison Loar © All Rights Reserved





Biden Dorks Out!














Vice President Joe Biden appears to temporarily lose his mind during President Barack Obama's "jobs" speech to Congress on September 8, 2011.

Actually, he was licking his lips due to dry mouth.



~ Unaltered photo of freeze-framed TV screen by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





Heh, Heh, Heh





L aura was breathing harder now, her head resting against George’s shoulder as they sat in his pickup truck at the drive-in movie. It was a long movie and she had been up since the crack of dawn. She was asleep.
"Looks like you managed to cut off our only escape route,” Princess Leia tongue-lashed the handsomely handsome Han Solo.

“Maybe you’d like it back in your cell, your highness!” Han rhetoricated mockingly.
“Aaugh!” Laura screamed, awakening to the sound of laser fire pontooning from the small metal speaker box hooked on the passenger side window.

“Laura, what’s wrong?”

“Oh George, I just had the most frightening dream of my life. I dreamed you were president and I was First Lady and a band of bearded evildoers blew up New York City!”

“Heh, heh, heh,” George spontaneously chuckled, draining his fourth Budweiser. “Heh, heh, heh. That’ll be the day.”




~ Story & photo morph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





No Wonder!





So old Chinesey man run away from Lost Angeless mental confinement palace and seek taxi cab steerage.

When after much arm wagging hot dog mustard color car stop, Chinesey man find into back seat and profuse:

“Hurry hurry! Drive to Kowloon! No letter from home residents for twenty year!”

“You must tug my leg sideways,” taxi pilot expunge. “Drive to Kowloon impossibility. Kowloon on other shore side of ocean water expanse!”

“Ah,” Chinesey man breathe when brain light explode, “No wonder they never write!”








~ by Whingy Whang
© All Rights Reserved





Sit!







Q:   What's Lassie's favorite
        kind of chair?

A:    A Barkalounger!






~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Baboon-ed!




















M ethinks
These be baboon-ed days.
For want of suck this curv-ed fruit I entreat.




~ by Russ Allison Loar
Photo: Public Domain
© All Rights Reserved

You Did Not Return My Shovel


You did not return my shovel.
I really need it bad.
You left and took my shovel.
It’s made my life so sad.

It was my only shovel.
I had it all these years.
I own no other shovel.
My tool shed sheds such tears.
I can see it now,
Shining in the sun.
Glowing in the rain.
O my lost shovel,
Causes me such pain.

I am cold in the night
Cause my shovel’s not in sight.
How can I carry on
When my shovel’s lost and gone?

Someday when you’re in hell,
You’ll know the reason why.
You horked my beauty shovel,
And digging made you die.



~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





Uber Al Fresco



The comfort of a limo with the thrill of a convertible. Caution is advised when reclining seats while vehicle is making sharp turns in busy intersections. Not recommended for freeway driving.


~ Words and Photo by Russ Allison Loar 
© All Rights Reserved






Home On The Range



Home on the range,
On the horse.





~ Words and artwork by Russ Allison Loar
~ Click on image to enlarge
© All Rights Reserved





A Matter Of Taste








What does a garage door . . .




 . . . have in common with
             the Rock Of Gibraltar?






They both taste bad with ketchup!







~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





But Seriously Folks




Thank you ladies and gentle worms. Tonight, I’m going to start out with a tribute to all of you. That’s right, a musical tribute to human beings.


{Sleazy lounge singer voice}

♪ Hey there!
Yes you there!
Didja know there,
That you’ve got:
Two legs,
And you’ve got:
Two arms,
And you’ve got:
Two brains,
Inside your head, yeah! ♪


Needs a little work.

But seriously folks, I just want you to know I’m a believer in clean comedy. Yeah. Clean comedy. That’s my thing. Clean comedy.

So, these two bars of soap were walking down the street and they’re having a really heated argument. This one bar of soap is getting furious—out of control. So the other bar of soap says, “Hey! Don’t work yourself up into a lather!”

Oh yeah, it’s clean!


(Rim shot)

I was just talking backstage with legendary comedian Buzzy Vava Voom. He just flew in from a 37-year run at Joey Knuckles' Steak and Stein in Lost Wages, Nevada, and boy is his airplane tired!


(Bass drum hit)

“Buzzy,” I said, “what’s the secret of your success? How do You be funny?”

Buzzy says to me, “Kid, don’t get too personal with your humor. Nobody wants to hear about your personal problems. So if you really hate your wife, don’t do wife jokes because the audience will see that you really mean it and they won’t think you’re funny.”

So, taking Buzzy’s advice about keeping my personal life out of my humor, for those who have seen me perform before, I won’t be doing the bit about the wacky arsonist, the naked parking attendant, or the bit about falling in love with grandpa’s cow.



(Muffled laughter)

There was this guy with a big penis who walks into a bar, sits down on a barstool and orders a beer. The bartender slaps the beer down on the counter and the guy with the big penis hands him a twenty dollar bill. A couple of minutes later the bartender comes back and gives him a five dollar bill in change and says:

“We don’t get many guys in here with big penises.”

The guy with the big penis looks at the five dollar bill, looks at his beer, looks back at the five dollar bill, then looks at the bartender and says:

“How come?”


(Sustained, awkward silence)

“But seriously folks, you know, my wife is such a bitch . . .”



~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





Blackmail
















To You Whom It May Concern,

I am in possession of certain facts and sensitive material that have no relevance to you in any way.

Unless you deliver $1 million in unmarked coins to my home within 48 hours, I will be forced to release this irrelevant material to the newspapers, which, in all likelihood, will not publish it.

This is your next-to-last warning!

Ima Moron
54321 Blastoff Avenue,
Zoloft, CA 98765-4321


P.S. Do not give my address to the police.





~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





Teapot Song




I'm a little teapot
Short and stout,
Kick me in the rear
And step on my snout.

I'm a little teapot
Fat and wide,
Take me to the slaughterhouse
And cut off my hide!





~ Poem & artwork by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





Fried Chicken Crossing















Why did the chicken cross the road?

To get away from Colonel Sanders!





~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Illustration by ?
© All Rights Reserved




Afterlife


The first tribunal was with the chickens.

“According to our records,” the chief justice rooster announced in a loud, screeching voice, assuring he would be heard all the way back to the very last row of the cavernous courtroom, packed with clucking hens and muttering roosters of all kinds and colors.

“According to our records, during your lifetime, you have eaten," he paused with grave solemnity, "the equivalent of 5,693 chickens,” he declared, pointing his beak menacingly at me, his wattles inflated with indignation.

I shivered at the totality of it all.

“The accused will stand before this court.”

I stood.

“Do you wish to make a statement before sentence is passed?”

“Yes,” I barely answered in tremulous voice.

“Proceed.”

Summoning up my courage, knowing there was little I could say that would alter my fate, I cleared my throat, took a deep breath, and at the top of my voice cried out:

“Cock-A-Doodle-Doo!”



~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





Kids Need Discipline!





















The school board Tuesday night unanimously approved
the death penalty for dress code violations.





~ by Russ Allison Loar
~ Photo by Paul and Lora Guajardos
© All Rights Reserved




Meeting Slated
















The Inland Valley chapter of the Society For Clear Thinking will hold an all-day workshop on “How To Make Life Simple” from 10:20 a.m. to 5:47 p.m. Saturday, March 2, at an undisclosed location.

New members are required to attend an orientation session at 7:48 a.m., in the Thoreau Room of the Simple Gifts Meeting Hall at the Southern California College of Agronomy and Moral Certainty.

After the orientation, exit on Walden Avenue South, past Civil Disobedience Drive, then turn west on Emerson Road and make a U-turn at the third intersection past the green/black student dormitories (If you see the black/green student dormitories you’ve gone too far!), bearing to the right onto Harpers Ferry Way to Parking Lot 81, Section 26 (southeastern quadrant), next to the campus greenhouse.

Walk northeast on Campus Loop toward the Transcendental Arts Building, past the Hell No We Won’t Go food court, turning right at the Gandhi memorial bird bath. Walk straight ahead until you see the second unmarked bus stop and wait for bus No. 331, or 28-A if after 9:15 a.m., or any bus between H-9Q and 12 if after 9:33 a.m.

Exit the bus at Tolstoy Street and walk north on Tolstoy, past the King Cotton Laundromat (on the left) to the Thrifty Chick fried chicken restaurant (on the fourth, north-south corner of the traffic hexagon). Enter Thrifty Chick and say: “Sir Larry has come to collect the poll tax,” if the man at the counter is wearing a hat or an eye patch, or “The goslings weep for their mother” if there is another man without a hat and/or an eye patch, or a woman (mature, no eye patch), behind the counter.

You will be led to the rear of the shop and put into the cargo area of the Thrifty Chick delivery van whose driver will blindfold you and take you to my house where I will then drive you to the meeting. The workshop fee is $20 (stamps).





~ by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved





Pine Koan


















What is the sound of a pine tree falling in the forest
    when no one is there?





~ Koan and photograph by Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved