1020_FoolishTimes-web

zach.allen2814

A unique publication founded 18 years ago in Monterey County
to turn this sleepy area into a laugh fest.

October 2020

I hope October is as AWESOME

as my hair in high school...

Daria talks with

Felipe Esparza

» Pg. 6

VOTE

» Pg. 6


2 \\ Foolish Times

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October 2020 // 3

What The Bleep

Is Foolish Times?

Foolish Times is a free monthly tabloid publishing

the best humor we can find (some months we search

harder than others). The opinions or ideas expressed

by contributors are not necessarily those of Foolish

Times, its owner, advertisers, or associates, or their

extended families, or their friends or neighbors,

or their associated pen pals, up to and including

cockatiels. All articles, graphics, photographs, and

what-not (especially the what-not) are copyrighted

by the so-called “writers” and “artists” who

contribute them. Foolish Times uses invented

names in all its stories, except in cases where public

figures are being satirized. Any other use of real

names is accidental and coincidental.

Contributors

Tony Albano, Bini, Charles Birimisa, Just David,

Roger Freed, Ted Gargiulo, Jann Gargiulo,

Debbie Harris, Michael Houston, Daria James,

Robyn Justo, Rex Keyes, Dana Larabee,

Peter Mehren, Pizza Delivery Guy, Nancy Pyzel,

Jay Russell, Gilly Spangler, Mary Tompsett, Sali

Cartoonists

The Chucklehead Speaks

With Election Day approaching, we will be making choices that will influence our future. It

seems like the same things get rehashed every election; taxes, climate change, jobs, naughty foreign

leaders, and promises to do a better job than their opponent. If a candidate can do better than their

opponent, show me your track record and stop making promises like I have low self-esteem and I’m

three drinks in at happy hour. Do my best, not your best.

One thing we’re not going to do at Foolish Times is tell you what candidate to vote for. That

is your business and media shouldn’t be influencing you with their slant. Do your best, not their

best. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if American Indians had a stricter immigration

policy and kept us out.

Don’t get me wrong, we highly recommend that you vote. There is a ballot on page 5 to voice your

opinion on The Best Pizza in the County. We give you a head start with a list to decide for yourself a

topic we can all sink our teeth in. Pizza!

Pizza is very important and I’m bewildered why this hasn’t been a hot topic between

parties. Chicago Deep Dish, New York Thin Crust, St Louis Cracker Crust, New England Greek,

Detroit Square, California Style and all the unconventional toppings and the original Neapolitan.

There are so many choices and not one debate to narrow down which is the best. Probably because

they are all good. Even the use of pineapple is somehow OK.

Let’s all agree to unite as one party by accepting all the differences. There is more than one way

to ‘pie’ and we understand the true meaning of ‘party’. That is why we are the Pizza Party.

Stevie P. // publisher@foolishtimes.net

Andre Adams, Will Bullas, Max Cannon,

Roger Freed, Chris Myers, Chuck Scardina,

David Schmidt, Monte Truitt, Megan & Miguel,

Jo Mora, The Unknown Carmel Cartoonist

Advertisers

FOR RATE INFORMATION:

sales@foolishtimes.net

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For rat information, call your exterminator

List of Fools

Chucklehead // Stevie P.

Editor at Large // Javlis

Art Fool // Mama Morgan

Social Media Fool // Jordo

Web Fool // Zachy

Sales Fool // Michael

Foolish Times

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www.foolishtimes.net

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YOU

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office@foolishtimes.net


4 \\ Foolish Times

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PUBS

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October 2020 // 5

CONFESSIONS

OF A PIZZA

DELIVERY MAN

Delivering pizza was one of my first

jobs and one of my last. My quest for

finding a woman with a steady job

who could help pay more than her

share for the rent and didn’t mind

that my degree in basket weaving

from CSUMB barely qualified me for

the delivery job.

It’s hard to say how much money

I’m going to make during a shift.

Being a contractor, I basically depend

upon the gratitude of the person who

is receiving the delivery. Sending

your kid to the door to receive the

pizza is a technique parents use to

stiff me. Although other times I’ve

been completely unsuccessful in

predicting who will tip well or not.

I’ve been stiffed by the rich, the poor,

the young, the old, and even when

delivering to employees on duty

where they rely on tips themselves.

I’ve even been stiffed AND shorted

on the bill and had to cover the

shortfall out of my own pocket. You’d

expect some kind of look from them

when they leave you hanging but they

don’t even flinch. Sometimes they

smile like they gave you a huge tip

and you should be grateful. Luckily,

it all balances out and the average

tip is a few bucks dollars per pizza.

Being stiffed is not a good feeling

but thankfully there is always a big

tipper right around the corner to help

restore your faith in humanity and in

yourself and your ability to pay your

rent.

Pizza delivery times can

definitely vary but Friday from

5:30- 8:30pm seems to be the busiest

time. Summer, with lots of people

in town being the busiest season for

deliveries. Because almost everyone

wants pizza at the same time there

will inevitably be a time crunch and

the occasional late pie. This is where

I double as the mobile complaint

department. Who is to say what is

‘late’? Domino’s used to guarantee

30 minute delivery or your order

was free. That was before accidents,

speeding and reckless driving

citations increased for pizza delivery

drivers. One ticker can set you back

finically to the point of no return.

One of the most common

complaints is that I forgot the side

of ranch dressing. How does ranch

dressing come in to play for pizza

delivery anyway? What’s in this stuff

anyway that makes it so appealing as

a dipping sauce? I regretfully have

to admit that I’ve forgotten the ranch

on more than one occasion. The

most memorable time was when they

insisted that I drive back and get

their cherished side of ranch. Being

so far away from the restaurant, I

went to a nearby grocery and bought

them a whole damn bottle just to

satisfy the whinny customer. Where

they grateful? I rather not say.

People treat pizza like a life or

death situation and it wouldn’t be

right if I didn’t deliver their pizza like

a NASCAR driver or an ambulance.

Though it can be as stressful as brain

surgery at times, I found it to be one

of the most rewarding occupations

I’ve endured in nearly a half century

of working. The most advanced

behavioral science reveals that

human beings only need two things

to be happy; human connection and

meaningful work. And when it comes

to both of these things, nothing

delivers like pizza delivery.


6 \\ Foolish Times

BAD DECISIONS

& GOOD STORIES

An Interview With Comedian, Felipe Esparza

Felipe Esparza has been performing Stand-up

Comedy since the mid-90’s. After a stint in rehab,

he began telling his stories and getting laughs. He

has been outspoken about his bad habits and family

relations through his comedy. He speaks of what he

knows, and it comes from the heart. Some relatives

have told him, “That is not how it happened”

but we all have our side of the stories we lived.

Because the future is now, we talked over Zoom to

discuss his new Netflix special, Bad Decisions and

MalasDecisiones, (two specials for the price of one

Felipe).

Felipe translated and tested his Spanish material

in California clubs and Tijuana; he started with five

minutes and worked his way to an hour and half in

Spanish.

Daria: You have been doing comedy since the

mid-90’s. How has comedy changed from when

you were starting in the 90’s, and if you were

starting right now, what would the differences be?

Felipe: The difference now would be social media.

There was hardly any social media when I first

started, Yahoo messenger and that was it. I think

now people who start off Stand-up comedy,they

have it much easier because they can produce and

star in their own ten minute comedy special, or

two minutes or five minute one. If it’s really, really

funny that is all they need to become a star.

Which is the truth. That was the advice I got

when I first got started in Stand-up comedy. They

told me, ‘Felipe just write a five minute set and

don’t worry about forty-five minutes to an hour.

With a five minute set, you can get a lot of work

from that.’

That is all I had at the beginning of my career, and

those five minutes got me a TV credit within a year

and half from when I started. I was on Showtime

in 1996 for the Latino Laugh Festival, a young

comedian show. I recently had Rob Schneider

on the podcast (What’s Up Fools) and he kind

redirected what I just said. He said someone also

told to him to just write five minutes. Those five

minutes got him on the Young Comedian’s Show

and SNL. So if you are starting now, don’t worry

about a forty -minute set, that will eventually

come. If you can just write a three minute or a four

minute set, you are good to go man.

ALISAL PIZZERIA

ALLEGRO

ANGELINA’S

BLAZE PIZZA

CAL PIZZA KITCHEN

CANNERY PIZZA

CASA SORRENTO

CHUCK E CHEESE

CORKSCREW CAFE

DOMINOS

GIANNI’S

COSTCO

GUSTO

HEIRLOOM PIZZA

IOLIS’ PIZZAERIA

INTERNATIONAL CUISINE

LITTLE CEASARS

LITTLE SICILY

MELVILLE TAVERN

MIKE’S PIZZA

MIDICI

MOD PIZZA

MONTAIN MIKE’S

MONTERY PIZZA

PAPA JOHN’S

PAPA MURPHY’S

www.foolishtimes.net/feedback

office@foolishtimes.net

831.648.1038 (operators are standing by)

PO Box 4046 Monterey, CA 93940

PELICAN PIZZA

PIZZA FACTORY

PIZZA HUT

PIZZA MY HEART

PIZZA MY WAY

RISE + ROAM PIZZA

ROUND TABLE

RYLI’S & PAPA’S

SALINAS PIZZA & PINTS

STIRRIP CUP

THE OVEN

TUTTO BUONO

EATALIONO

Stuffing the pizza box is acceptable. Ballets will be tallied under the

supervision of the accounting office of Dewey Cheatem and Howe

Daria: Have you thought about writing a book?

Many comedians like George Carlin have written

books and they translated into a special. In your

Stand-up, you get so personal and I think some

people might find it painful to recall their past

growing up with the struggle, when the struggle

was real (laughs)

Felipe: That is funny you asking me that question

right now. I feel like Catherine O’hara in for your

consideration. You have all these gifts; don’t you

want to teach an acting class? I wouldn’t dare! (big

laugh) You know what? I should! When I think

about it, I should write a book about my life and

throw in comedy lessons, just like Ali Wong did in

her last book about Stand-up comedy. She gives

advice to female comics.

When I was reading the part in her book about

female comics, I felt bad that I never thought about

it, you know as a male comedian. Many times,

I’ve hung out with female comics at the end of the

show, whether we shooting the breeze, or smoking,

having a beer or eating. Then we say goodbye, I

never thought about how lonely or how scary it is

for female comedians. They have to walk back to

their cars at 3am. Ali Wong she talked about that in

her book. We have to back each other up. If I see a

female comic after we say goodbye, ‘Hey man, are

you gonna be alright? We can drive you or walk

with you if you want.’ Now that you asked me, I

should write things like that in my book.


October 2020 // 7

Daria: Yeah, how to be a gentleman.

Felipe: Little advice, like go hang out with people

you don’t know after a show. You just got paid cash,

you have a thousand dollars, they are going help

you spend it.

Daria: I would love to read a book by you and

learn. You have so much experience both in your

personal life and in comedy…

Felipe: Starting right now, Daria.

Daria: There you go, you can thank me later.

How has your life changed from your first special

They’re not going to laugh at your Bad Decisions

right now? How would you say you have evolved?

Felipe: I think my comedy has evolved from the

first special because the first special was given to

me by surprise. I was hanging out with Latin Kings

of comedy star Alex Raymundo, he was part of the

Latin Kings of comedy in DC and we’re talking

about comedy specials. I told him that I never had

a special, and he calls up his guy Scott Montoya

from Showtime and LOL. The next day, I get a call

from Alex. He says to get ready to do your first

special in two weeks. I mean just like that! I called

my manager and I told him they’re going to give

me a Showtime special so you better call them an

handle the business, so it happened so fast. I had

two weeks to prepare, so I just did all my material

I had ever have done. I didn’t care if it was on

YouTube and I just did it. I broke it down together

with my wife, my partner in crime, who has been

with me since the beginning, every special she has

produced and edit so that was hard.

The second special, we learned a lot from the

first special like do’s and don’ts. For the second

especial we put up our own money and it was

tougher than the first special, but at least I was

prepared this time. I knew what material was safe.

The third special was given to us. They offered

us a special for Netflix, but I threw in too. I want

to challenge myself so I asked if I can do it in

Spanish too. They were surprised that I do stand

up in Spanish. Yes,I lied, yes. I do it in Spanish all

the time! On the side! I was given nine months to

prepare.

What I learned from the last three specials is

how to prepare myself better and be more focused

and have fun. The first one I was worried that

everything’s going come out wrong. The third

special is better,the hardest part was the Spanish.

Daria: How was it? I moved to America when

I was 18 years old and I considered myself to

be funny, but I noticed my humor was not fully

translating sometimes. Was it harder to make

the audience in Tijuana laugh over the crowds in

California?

Felipe: First, I started in the bottom. Like I told

myself I’m not going to start doing this stand-up

comedy in Spanish as a guy that’s going go up last

and think he’s badass and try to do one hour of

Spanish that’s not funny, or waste time.

A lot of comedians who are famous I would say

all of ‘em, from Chappelle to Chris Rock to Louis

CK, Mike Epps,they walk in, interrupt the show

and they do an hour,and pretty much kill the show

for the other comedians that are supposed to go up.

I’ve been one of the comedians that was waiting to

go up and when a big comedian goes up and tries to

work out his one hour in front of our show, and that

is messed up. Like do it somewhere else and go do a

show! Book yourself and do two hours if you want.

The audience likes it; they get to see Chappelle do

three hours, now I have to wait until tomorrow to

go up.

I don’t want to be that comedian that pops in

and does forty-five minutes and this looks like a

comedy show that was there for somebody else,

so I don’t want to do that in Spanish. I want to

know who is the headliner of the show. A woman

from Mexico is going to headline. Ask her if I could

please open up and I’ll go ahead and promote that

I’m going be at her show.

I was doing five minutes at a time; I will go five

minutes and get off and then do fifteen and then

the headliner does an hour. I did that for like three

months until I got comfortable and then I said,

OK let me feature, so the headliner let me do 25

minutes and I don’t

want to go up first. I

want to go second and

they said all right.

Finally I said OK I’m

ready to do the whole

hour by myself, so

let’s set up a show

once a month here,

where you guys put

up all the Spanish

comedians you want

from Mexico or San

Diego. I will sell

tickets as the main

headliner in Spanish.

Just give the money

to the comedians. I

don’t want nothing so

that’s what I did it for

a whole year. I would

book myself and not

keep any of the money

just give it to the

younger comedians.

In Bad Decisions,

Felipe takes us

through his struggles

and decision making

process has he

learned from his experiences, from buying hot

dogs for his dog, to his family dysfunctionalities,

no subject is taboo in his life to get laughs from. He

crosses over in Español with MalasDecisiones.

I recommend you watch both specials available on

Netflix.

I hahaha and then I jajaja, if you speak

Spanish, you know what I am talking about.

Cool fact: We both share a love for Sonoran

Doggos!

Photo Credit: Netflix Media


8 \\ Foolish Times

2020 Buskers’ Best Central

Coast Pizza Award Winners

Michael Houston with the

View from the Gutter

“Dis-moi ce que tu manges, je te dirai ce que tu es.”

Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, 1826

“You are what you eat, hippy scum.” was the

countersign of the counter-culture in the Golden

Years of Monterey Pop, macrobiotic diets, and

Adelle Davis, the high priestess of the early organic

food movement. Right on!

We’re under orders from Chucklehead here at

The Times to work “pizza” themes into our “Best

Article In Foolish Times This Month Competition”.

Some suspect that this is done in hope of winning

the hearts of more advertisers. (I’d first suspected

he’d gone Pizza-Gate-Q-anon-bonkers, decided

to play my part as mindlessly as possible.) Like

the good people at the Sermon on the Mount in

The Life of Brian, I felt compelled to elucidate

every conceivable conceptual variation of our

mispronounced classic Italian word for “pie”

Edgar Allan Poe like, I set me down to write

about any combination of starch in contact

something savory with (or without) meat or dairy

that came to mind. Fringe Sermon on the Mount

listener-like, I realized, or misunderstood, that

I needed to promote every regional purveyor of

relatively edible products having anything to do

flavored carbs. Somehow, it was my part in the war

on Covid-19.

What is pizza?

In this age of cultural relativism and culturally

diverse literacy and the lack there of, I knew I

couldn’t just write about an Italian

dish consisting of geometrically shaped

baked flatten dough topped or filled

with what was lying around tenement

kitchens in 19th century New York,

Philadelphia; contemporary street food

in Venice (Italia and SoCal); Milan; Ho

Chi Minh City; Jersey; Lima; Cork City;

Guanajuato; Orleans; New Orleans; the

Hague; Chiapas; Marrakech, Morocco;

or any strip mall, chicken wing joint

anywhere that tomatoes, cheese, meat,

fish, dubious vegetables or cracker

leftovers may be found. In other words,

if tostadas aren’t pizza then neither is raman or

the very Tower in Pisa itself!

Heretical Gnostic vs.

Vulgate Pizza

St. Jerome, circa 382, suggests that the Eucharist

puts us in instant union with all our fellow saints

via sacred unleavened bread. That’s a lovely idea

and touches the heart of even this fallen away altar

boy. Oddly enough, archeologist recently found

middens of a thousands of years old fast food

chicken shop in Jerusalem. That proves that pizza

and wings is a more primordial idea that we would

have imagined by just watching ads on TV.

Pizza Liberation Front,

“We Are All Pizza if not

Spartacus!”

Why be a purist pain-in-the-neck? Pizza is pizza! It

doesn’t become a calzone just because you fold the

tip of the slice to the crust butt! Remember corn

just meant grain before the insular Cockneys and

peasants got their gobs into maiz from Oaxaca.

Reflect. If a doubled over pizza is still pizza pie…

Ergo any startched-topped and/or bottomed

cooked delight also has the right to declare itself

“Pizza!”

So, Grilled Cheese Sandwiches, Pupusas,

Steak and Kidney Pies, Mashed Dutch French

Fries Drowned in Catsup or Mayonnaise, Sushi,

Nan with Humus,

Breaded Jelly Beans,

Empanadas, Falafels, Tamales, Calzones, Soft

Shell Crab Sandwiches, Souvlaki, Hominy Grits

and Butter, Oatmeal, Tacos, Khachapuri (Georgian

Cheese Bread), Fish and Chips, Dumplings, Canned

Cat Food in Bread Crumbs, Cherry Doughnuts,

Vietnamese Rice Noodle Salad, Chocolate Dipped

Popsicles, Chitlins, Kombucha on Toast, Sour

Dough Chowder Bowls, Smoothies in Ice Cream

Cones, Enchiladas, Khinkali, Jellied Eels in a Bun,

Pop Tarts, and Chow Mein are all free to be “pizza”

varietals, if that is their desire.

By contrast, “Sidewalk Pizza” is not pizza at

all. It’s vomit hurled up by amateur drinkers

outside pubs where the servers don’t care if the

management keeps its license or if respectful

patrons risk their lives and sick days slipping and

coming to serious grief! And don’t ask how the

carrot bits got there either.

And the Winners Are…

This year’s “Foolish Times Buskers’ Best

Pizza Awards” go to: Seaside Auto Center,

Pacheco’s Cleaning Services, Hans Auto Repair,

Del Monte Realty, Roof Maxx, Marina Beach Real

Estate, TRA Digital Designs, Destination 831,

Casa Dolores Wood Floors, J. Taylor Insurance,

Jeff’s Appliance Repair and Service, Trinkle Real

Estate, Lauris Wellness, SPCA Benefit Shop, AV

Transfer 4 –U, Bay Consignment, Yellow Brick

Road, Grove Market, Crown and Anchor, Shag

Bag Radio Show, Peninsula Tire, Fool On The

Curb, and sales@foolishtimes.net, 831-648-1038


October 2020 // 9

When a man steals your wife, there is no better

revenge than to let him keep her.

When someone asks me if I’m seeing anyone,

I automatically assume they’re talking about a

psychiatrist.

A smart man in a relationship is one who thinks

twice before saying nothing.

The difference between “Girlfriend” and “Girl

Friend” is that little space in between.

It’s called the “Friend Zone”.

A man admitted he lied on his income tax return:

he listed himself as the head of the household.

Date for lust. Get engaged for love. Marry because

you’re confident your spouse will never blow your

401k on a worm farm business.

You’ll never have a successful relationship with a

woman if you can’t tell the difference between a

smile and a warning.

Marrying a man is like buying something you’ve

been admiring for a long time in a furniture store.

You may love it when you get it home but it doesn’t

always go with everything else in the house.

You know that tingly little feeling you get when you

like someone?

That’s your common sense leaving your body.

Never go to bed angry…or with a knife in your

hand.

We have a new neighbor who always kisses his wife

in the driveway when he leaves for work. My wife

asked my why don’t I do that. I told her it’s only

because I don’t know her that well.

Bisexuality immediately doubles your chances for a

date on Saturday night.

My wife of thirty years comes into the kitchen

feeling very down. “Honey just look at me. My legs

are heavy and my thighs are getting big. I could

really use a complement right about now.”

My replied, “You have really good eye sight!”

My girlfriend plays the role of the victim very well.

She even carries around her own body chalk.

I found out that my girlfriend cheated on me with

six different people in the past two weeks. I wasn’t

angry. I was impressed.

I came home early from work and found my best

friend and my wife in bed together.

“Jim I have to…but you?”

I asked my wife what the log I was for the

computer; She said di t was our anniversary date.

She did that on purpose.

My boyfriend is

always making

me cry. I think

he’s more like an

onion than a real

boyfriend.

My girlfriend

wanted us to get

a Sleep Number

bed, so we went

and checked it out.

Turns out her sleep

number is 61, and

mine is $3500.


10 \\ Foolish Times

Zero Cheers for the

Winner, Play Ball!

// Jay Russell TheRaverTip.com

How will a baseball team celebrate winning the

World Series this year? Baseball just said no to

fizzling and spraying alcoholic beverages in locker

rooms. Will the champs get to dogpile on the

mound and smash pies in each other’s face? Or will

it be 2020 style? Will champagne showers turn into

Purell drizzling? I would imagine that might look a

little... x-rated. A little too glossy.

Furthermore, spitting, sunflower seeds and having

a fat worm lip of chew- not so much this year.

If I know anything, it’s that a ball player does two

things: spit and grab their crotch.

So an irrevocable license to crotch grab will be in

full effect. It’s the perfect year to get your girlfriend

into October Baseball.

Okay, so who has the advantage? Well obviously

the Oakland A’s. They have lots of experience playing

in empty stadiums, sadly. But, that’s no sleight to

us A’s fans. We the A’s fans may be scarce, but are

the best in all of sports- knowledgeable, chill, and

refreshingly not “bro.” A’s fans are not the typical

sportsball jock pieces, psychos or fake corporate “I

took off my sports coat, now I’m cool” yuppies.

The A’s also have Tom Hanks cardboard cutouts

all around the stadium selling cardboard hotdogs to

a stadium less crowded than Wilson Island,

talk about a funky vibe that can’t fail.

Anyway, the oddest thing about the corona-season

isn’t the silence at the stadium, but

the lack of it. Artificial crowd noise is broadcast

over the speakers at games. I wonder,

who is in charge of that, is it just one person?

Usually when you watch baseball you can tell

if something good or bad happened based on

the crowd reaction. Surely there are thousands

of rookie fans that cheer like it’s the

moon landing every time there’s a fly ball.

But for the truly big moments thousands of

baseball gurus and skeptics join in the cheers

with the rookies. So, does the crowd noise

activator have more

than one button?

Do they have the

sound effect for “a

bunch of nearsighted

newbs think this

is a homerun, but

the ball just went

high?”

Strangely, the

intensity of the

cheering probably

does come down to

the opinion of one

person. Have some

teams chosen that

person as someone

legally blind, or

with a tendency for

sarcasm or alcoholism?

There are

sure to be bloopers,

where accidentally

a full roar happens

when someone

gets hurt, or when

the button gets

jammed down with

crackerjacks and

cheers rain over a

moment of silence.

What I’m interested

in is: can the

crowd noise simulator boo the umpire or the other

team? It doesn’t seem like it through September, but

maybe in October? Unfortunately, the cheating Astros

don’t have to face 81 road games worth of name

calling this year after being revealed as a bunch of

integrity-less low lifes. If you are unaware, they used

cameras to see the type of pitch coming up and used

electronic buzzers and banged on trash cans to alert

their hitters of what was coming. Can the crowd

noise simulator boo the Astro’s every move? I still

have hope for 2020, but if the Astros win it all, I may

get an economy seat on that fat “2020 sucks” bandwagon

everyone seems to have taken residence on.

Even worse than the Astros winning would be no

one winning,

though. If a

If I know

anything, it’s

that a ball player

does two things:

spit and grab

their crotch.”

whole team

gets sick in the

World Series

will they wait,

play sick or

continue with

replacement

scabs?

The current

plans are to go

to a “bubble”

for the second

round of the playoffs through the World Series, in

Southern California and Texas, getting rid of air

travel. But wait, you mean the current hottest spots

of coronavirus, So. Cal and Texas? Well, yeah, duh,

that’s what the NBA did by bubbling down in Florida,

hide in plain sight I guess. What would make

sense to me would be playing at that corn field from

Field of Dreams, making everyone sleep in a tent on

site and forage for themselves. Maybe airdrop some

jerky and potatoes down. That would be must see

TV, watching grown men with 9-figure salaries realize

all they know how to do is play baseball and flail

at trying to camp in a corn field for a month. It would

turn into Survivor, that TV show no one watches

anymore, or maybe Lord of the Flies.

The current bubble plan also requires players to

quarantine from their families for seven days before

the playoffs. Then, if their wives, kids and babysitters

want to join in the bubble for round two the

families have to quarantine for a week at a hotel. Excited

to see how that will go. Hundreds of millionaire

trophy wives, “what am I doing here” nannies and

trust fund kids all forsaking the outside world for

a week. Could they do it? Seven months into a pandemic,

how easy would it be for a big leaguer’s kid to

say ‘the hell with stupid dad’s team, I’m going out to

see Bill and Ted 4.” Supposedly, players and family

members will be under surveillance, weird. That’s

the plan though, that’s the world we live in. Hip-hip

hooray, the computers go wild. Play ball.


October 2020 // 11

Scout School Dropout

// Nancy Pyzel

When my daughter was ten I tried to be a Girl

Scout leader, but I didn’t have the buns for it.

Full disclosure – I am a member of that odd tribe

of women who would rather camp than shop.

Leader training camp sounded like a blast. I was

looking forward to a fun weekend with like-minded

women. The women I met at camp were my tribe,

alright, except the instructor. She must have been

former CIA. Her torture method was devastatingly

simple but effective. We were forced to sit on

hard, knotty logs listening to her lectures on camp

cooking for ten hours each day.

Surrounded by redwood forest, with the siren

song of a waterfall beckoning us to hike up the

trail and swim in its pool, we were, like Ulysses,

chained to our masts. After five hours, some of the

leaders-in-training offered their first born children

in exchange for a break. At this point our butts and

brains were so numb that we spent the next five

hours in a near-comatose state. Our instructor had

the buns for the job. She was amply endowed to sit

comfortably on a hard surface for a millennium.

When this torment finally ended, we were forced

to demonstrate our mastery of outdoor cooking

techniques. The alfresco menu included brownies

baked in a foil-covered box, potatoes roasted in an

open fire, and scrambled eggs boiled in a plastic

bag. The instructor sampled the

fare and critiqued our efforts.

If Michelin gives stars to

restaurant chefs, what do camp

chefs get? Little outhouses?

This was about as far

from my childhood scouting

experience as the moon is

from a burnt marshmallow.

When I was a girl scout, our

leader, the 22 year old mother

of a seven year old, had zero

training. None of us knew

this, or cared. Girl Scouts of

America must have decided that these young,

inexperienced moms

were not prepared

to take charge of 20

knife-wielding young

girls building fires in

the woods. What new

leaders needed was

cooking classes!

Actually, at age

seven we mostly

did crafts. Still, this

involved scissors and

glue guns – arguably

just as dangerous as

knives and matches

for anyone under 30.

As we got older,

we eschewed crafts

for camping. One dry,

hot summer day our

troop was camping in

a Eucalyptus grove in

southern California.

Eucalyptus trees,

called “Gum Trees”

in Australia, produce

sap so flammable it

causes firestorms. The

boy scouts in the next

camp decided to save

matches by carrying

hot coals on a shovel

from one fire ring to another with incendiary

results. Organized by brave young moms, none

of whom could scramble eggs in a plastic bag, we

formed a bucket brigade and kept the fire from

spreading until the fire department showed up.

Like Pigpen in Peanuts, I always managed to

get dirtier than the

rest of the girls. After

If Michelin

gives stars to

restaurant chefs,

what do camp

chefs get? Little

outhouses?”

the fire encounter, I

wanted to impress

my mom, so I rubbed

charcoal in blotches

on my face, arms and

shirt. Mom just said

“Put your clothes in

the washer and take

a shower,” barely

glancing up from

her ironing. No one

notices if Pig-Pen is

dirtier than usual.

Mom was a great scout leader, though she never

had any official training. She was, and still is at 90,

tall, lean, smart, outdoorsy and serious. Everyone

called her “Miss Jane” after the character on the

Beverly Hillbillies. On one trip mom and I were

laying out a nature hike for a brownie troop. We

nearly stepped on a young rattlesnake basking on

the trail where dozens of seven-year-olds would

soon walk. At twelve I was a cadette and felt very

grown up, until I saw the snake. Mom calmly

picked up a rock, bashed the snake on the head,

cut the rattle off with her pocket knife and handed

it to me as if it were a wildflower (I still have the

rattle in a box next to my scout badges). These

days, killing a snake would not be environmentally

conscious. At the time, I was just glad to be alive.

What had happened to Girl Scouts between my

childhood and my daughter’s? Gone were the bands

of hatchet-carrying young trailblazers running

amuck in the forest. Gone were adventure, girldrama

and mud-encrusted jeans. Now Girl Scouts

seemed more like an outdoor version of “Hell’s

Kitchen.” My brother was a Boy Scout leader and

I’m pretty sure he didn’t spend all day in cooking

class. Boy scouts probably just roasted squirrels on

sticks. Or ordered pizza.

Leader Training Camp may have been torture,

but I’m not a quitter. I’m honing my scouting skills

for future granddaughters. This time, I’m going to

be ready. I’ve ordered the “Buns of Steel” Workout

and twelve gallons of ice cream.


12 \\ Foolish Times

SENIOR

MOMENTS

There is a new site for senior citizen dating.

It’s called “I’ve fallen in love and I can’t get up.”

Internal medicine Dr. King says to his patient, “I’ll

need a urine sample, a feces sample, and a blood

sample.”

The old man says, “What?”

So the doctor repeats himself in a louder tone,

“I’ll need a urine sample, a feces sample, and a

blood sample.”

With that the old man’s wife turns to her

husband and says, “He needs a pair of your

underwear.”

A distraught senior citizen phoned her doctor’s

office. “Is it true that the medication you prescribed

to me has to be taken for the rest of my life?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” the doctor told her.

There was a moment of silence before the senior

lady replied, “I’m wondering just how serious is my

condition because this prescription is marked ‘NO

REFILLS’.”

When an old person farts, it’s a blast from the past.

Santa Cruz comic Richard Stockton gets a gig to

perform at the Carmel Foundation.

Soon he notices that most of the old people

there are pretty out of it so he tells the same joke

twice and people still laugh because they already

forgotten that they just heard it.

He gets a kick out of it and keeps telling the same

joke for the duration of his show and towards the

end of it, he notices that one old guy is staring at

him.

Stockton is a bit nervous that the old guy is going

confront him about what he just did. As he braced

himself the old guy asked, “How do you remember

all those jokes?”

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What do you call an old person with really good

hearing?

Deaf defying.

A couple of guys were golfing when one mentioned

that he was going to a dentist for a new set of

dentures.

His buddy remarked that he too, had gone to the

very same dentist two years before.

“Is that so?” asked the first old guy. “Did he do a

good job?”

The second oldster replied, “Well, let me put it

this way, I was on the golf course last week when

a guy on the next fairway hooked a shot. The ball

must have been going at least 100 mph when it

slammed me right in the groin.”

The first guy was confused and asked, “What

does that have to do with your dentures?”

“It was the first time in two years my dentures

didn’t hurt!”

What’s an old persons underwear taste like?

Depends


DESTROYS

Episode 23

"Yellow Streak"

October 2020 // 13

Adapted from the Original Novella Written and Illustrated by Dana B. Larrabee dalarents@gmail.com

Previously: Malcolm D. Monster promises ad man Lester Krasse two million dollars to deliver a marauding T. Rex to

promote his new Salinas Monster Mart store. But when despite Army tank fire, the creature escapes clutching teenager

Neil Scallopini to wreak havoc on Salinas, it takes Air Force jets to subdue it with tranquilizer dart-tipped missiles, and the

T. Rex and Neil are incarcerated. Krasse cobbles together a fake T. Rex commercial hoping to win over Monster Mart, and

local media reps begin courting him, one of whom is KTOM radio’s Sue Foxx. CEO Monster nixes Krasse’s fake dinosaur

commercial, insisting on the real deal. Undaunted, Krasse convinces Sheriff Naylor to release the creature on a “work

furlough” for Monster Mart’s commercial starring the heavilly sedated GODZELDA. When Neil sees it, he reveals how the

T.Rex came out of his iceberg hunting expedition for the Icily Nicely Ice Co., and demands to be released. Later when

Captain Horatio Algae corroborates his fantastic story, Neil regains his freedom, and just as Monster Mart’s Grand Opening

commences he learns from Felicia Nicely how Lester Krasse defrauded the company. So Neil sets off for Monster Mart

in the Karmann Ghia he and his father restored to find Krasse and get Felicia’s money back. Dr. Quayle finally arrives for

Godzelda’s morning injection, and bumps in to Neil on the way in, and when Krasse learns Neil is in the store sends security

guards after him who disguise themselves as shoppers and prepare to apprehend Neil. Unfortunately, Malcolm D. Monster

receives GODZELDA’S tranquilizer injection by mistake, GODZELDA breaks free of her chains and...

Lester Krasse clung to the girdle display anxiously waiting for the

Croaker Cola tide to ebb. When it finally did, he dropped to the slippery

floor. “What a disaster!” Kiss that bonus good-bye, he thought and looked

for some way to get dry. A store directory pointed the way to Bath Accessories.

From behind the “TOWELS” sign, a cardboard replica of Godzelda

stared down at him. He shivered.

It was the “Godzelda” bath towel display he’d

helped Peterson assemble. Strung across it was a

clothesline to which they had fastened the colorful

“Godzelda” towels. They had hoped these would be

big sellers, but with the creature on the rampage,

the green Godzeldas on purple, blue, yellow and

orange terry-cloth gave him the creeps. He sneezed

and selected a plain yellow one from a different rack.

Then he ducked behind it to dry off.

Meanwhile, under Neil’s tentative direction, the real

Godzelda was obediently trotting up and down the aisles

searching for the ad man. Ahead of them sloshed a

woman with a shopping cart, hunting for the angel food

cake mix advertised at half-price. She scarcely noticed

the boy and the Tyrannosaurus.

But the sign posted on the wall overlooking the next

aisle had one youngster’s undivided attention:

It was illustrated with a drawing of Godzelda munching

away on a man’s arm. Despite the grisly admonition,

the nearby bin of Chocaroo candy bars was simply too

tempting for ten year-old Stevie Wunderlich. Furtively,

he looked up and down the aisle. Everyone was busy

buying stuff. What the heck? He swiped several and was

about to gobble one up, when he was horrified to see the

Tyrannosaurus staring down at him. “I’ll pay for ‘em!” he

shrieked, “Honest!” and off he fled screaming down the

aisle.

Krasse hadn’t quite finished drying himself when he

saw the dinosaur towering above the stacks of drygoods

and rapidly moving his way. No time to dress, so

he knotted the yellow towel around his paunchy midriff

#23-25

SHOPLIFTERS WILL BE EATEN!

COPYRIGHT 2020 BY DANA B. LARRABEE ALL SLIGHTS DESERVED

and bolted for the nearest exit.

The flash of yellow streaking down the aisle caught Godzelda’s

eye. “There he is!” Neil yelled triumphantly. “Get him!”

“GNNRRAAOOWWRRGHH!!!!” roared the monster.

“Eeyyeeaaaahhh!” shrieked Lester Krasse.

Godzelda burst through the stacks of canned soups

and vegetables and went galloping after the nearly naked

ad man. “Lemme outta here!” he yelled and unmindful

of staring shoppers, ducked down the Breakfast Food

aisle.

“Mommy!” exclaimed a wide-eyed toddler. “That man

has no clothes on!”

“How nice,” murmured the young mother, totally absorbed

in her shopping. “And look!” Her glazed eyes

suddenly brightened. “Breakfast Cheer! Two for a dollareighty-nine!”

Not far away in the hardware section, Victor and Maude

Cobbopolous were shopping for a new toilet. They were

examining the latest Niagara “Hush Flusher” models with

gold plated fixtures when Lester Krasse dashed by.

“Hey, you work here?” Victor tried to get his attention,

but Krasse shot down the aisle and was gone. Seconds

later, Godzelda and Neil whizzed past. “Mercy!” cried

Maude. “That’s the dinosaur we saw on TV!”

“Hmmph!” Victor Cobbopolous grunted intently studying

the new toilet’s transparent tank and the patented

Hush Flusher system inside. He fingered the gold plated

handle. “Ya seen one Tyrannosaurus, Maudey, ya seen

‘em all,” he muttered, pressing it with a flourish. In

seconds the bowl had completely drained and re-filled

without even a gurgle. “Now that’s amazing!”

Krasse collapsed against the wall just short of the

main entrance. He fought to catch his breath and re-

tightened the towel around his tummy. Then he turned

to the door and found himself staring down the muzzle

of a two-hundred millimeter tank gun commanded by

General Blunt!

“CLEAR THIS AREA AT ONCE!” barked Lieutenant

Stractomeyer over a bullhorn. “EVERYONE TO EVACU-

ATE TARGET AREA IMMEDIATELY!!”

“Thank heaven you’re here, General!” bawled the ad

man. “The monster almost had me! It was horrible!” He

sneezed and nearly lost his towel.

“Get this man some clothes, Lieutenant!” ordered the

general. “And remove him from the target area! On the

double!”

The young officer drew the exhausted ad man aside

and threw a field jacket over his quivering shoulders.

Then he escorted him to safety behind the barricade of

sand-bags and barbed wire the soldiers had erected in

the parking lot.

Excited shoppers with cartloads of purchases

streamed out the building. Inside, the store resounded

with the symphony blaring over the P.A. system and

the footfalls of the monster charging the main entrance.

Above the din in the monster’s fist, Neil thought he heard

police and emergency vehicle sirens outside. Then he

spotted the tank with its gun aimed right at them. “Slow

down!” he yelled. “Come on, girl! You better STOP!”

Godzelda swung about and attempted to reverse direction,

but her feet slipped out from under her. The creature

fell, slid tail-first down the aisle and--- WHAAMM!

slammed into the army tank!

Next issue:

Episode 24 The Crush

All previous episodes available at www.foolishtimes.net


14 \\ Foolish Times

Mira. WOW!

I’m Not Afraid Of No Ghost

October is supposed to be scary but in 2020 every month

has been horrendous, sorry October you don’t get your

individual shine this year. The biggest scares for me

have been what used to be regular body functions, Oh,

spend too much time outdoors and now you have little

allergies? Or is it the COVID?! Followed by a dramatic

musical pause. Oh, you worked out outdoors in the

middle of summer and now

your body is overheating? Or is

it the COVID?! I really hope we

neutralize this thing before flu

season.

I have always been very clean

with a mild case of germaphobia,

and a sprinkle of OCD to

counteract my ADHD. My friends

made fun of me and now that they

have to do what I do on regular

basis which totally vindicates

me. It was not always the case. I

remember getting in trouble for

having a messy room when I was

a kid. When I was active duty

and went through basic training

the devil was in the details. The seed was planted,

when I was living in the barracks I quickly learned

about room inspections and how you can get in trouble

if you fail said room inspections. A whole new side of

me woke from its slumber. The rest is neatly organized

history. However, I do have lazy days or as some people

call them regular days. I’m working on teaching my

offspring to be clean and it has been a bit of an uphill

battle. Unfortunately, for her, I do not skip leg day.

Muahahahaha!

The following is a true story:

Now, when you read the rest of this, imagine a raspy

serious voice in

your head. The

person is lighting

a cigarette with

a Zippo lighter.

They fix their

hair back with

one hand as they

take a drag and

exhale:

We have just

gotten home

from the store

and with the

I am going to be

angry because

now I gotta plan

a funeral and you

know I do not like

to plan events

with catering.

COVID going around we have tighten up our sanitation

security procedures. When we get back inside the

house; we must hang our masks and drop everything at

the door, specially our shoes. If you got caught wearing

shoes inside the house there was a hefty price to pay.

After taking our shoes off, protocol mandates to go wash

our hands with soap and then retrieve our belongings.

(takes drag of cigarette and

exhales) One of our younger

house members thought they

had done a good enough job at

washing their hands. The boss

witnessed their actions and told

them to do it again, eyes were

rolled, then …

Boss: Did you just rolled your

eyes at me?

Young one: No

Boss: You know what? Do not

wash your hands. I don’t know if

you know this but out the COVID

is running rampage. You neglect

your personal hygiene and you

will get it, then you are going to

get sick, followed by a one-way ticket to heaven. Then I

am going to be angry because now I gotta plan a funeral

and you know I do not like to plan events with catering.

At the funeral, people are going to ask what happened,

which is going to make me respond with oh you know,

she did not listen to her parents. Then you are going

to get to heave and St. Peter is going to ask, “You what

happened.” You are going to have to say, “because I did

not wash my hands.” He is not going to believe that

such simple thing lead you there. St. Peter will ask to

make sure he heard right: “because you didn’t wash

your hands, you say?” And then you are going to spend

eternity grounded for not listening. Insubordinate and

churlish.

Young one: why does God sound like my mom?

Boss: I don’t know, maybe God is a very wise lady. Now

wash your hands right this time.

Here is the part where you switch to a regular voice:

Keep washing your hands, you can’t let your guard

down with germs. They strike when they see the

opportunity, like those people in kiosks at the mall,

burglars or the devil. Be in high alert.

Instagram: Mira_Wow

JUNIOR

JOKES

Q: What do you call

someone who bumps

their toe on the stove?

A: Stub-burn

Q: Why did the sheep get

punished?

A: He had been baaaad

Q: What did the left eye

say to the right eye?

A: Between us,

something smells

Q: What do you call a fish

with no eyes?

A: Fsssssh

Q: What is small, round,

green and a master at

karate?

A: Bruce Pea

Q: What is a pig’s favorite

bread?

A: Sow a dough

Q: What did the baby cow

order at Starbucks?

A: Caffeinated tea

Q: What do you call a

fungus that eats grass?

A: Moo shroom

Q: Where is the train’s

favorite place to eat?

A: Subway

Q: What did the chicken

do when he couldn’t

finish the report on time?

A: He winged it


THE OTHERWORDLY REPORT

// Robyn Justo

October 2020 // 15

If you are old enough, you might remember the

song “The Purple People Eater.” To be more exact

it was about a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple

people eater.

It reached #1 on Billboard in 1958. I remember

it well. And it came to my mind the other day as

I was about to eat a purple potato. It was homely

and muddy brown on the outside, but a brilliant

electric purple on the inside. As I cut into it, the

song started to play on my little vinyl mind.

Maybe it’s being inside too much or maybe I see

things that other people don’t.

Maybe it was the stress of a

hurricane headed right straight for

Maui and a virus that was ready to

pounce if we evacuated to a gym or

to a church.

But this potato was cosmic. The

more I stared at it, the more I was

mesmerized. I even took photos.

I was ready to find a Mr. Potato

Head set and slap some ears,

eyes, nose, mouth and a few more

convenient appendages on it and

call him my boyfriend. I would

name him Prince. I was in love and

I was now The Purple Potato Eater.

Is this what happens when one is bombarded

by the news of the plague, earthquakes, tsunami

warnings, hurricanes, viruses, and volcanoes all

within a few weeks? It’s like waiting for a bullet

and not knowing which version is going to hit you.

With a hurricane, you can know it’s coming a week

before it does which makes it worse, just like this

virus that might get you and might not.

I surely needed a distraction. Along with the

anxiety of all of those things mentioned above, it

was National Noise day on Maui. The guy next

door turns bowls. He’s also building on to his deck.

This means that he runs saws, lathes, and talks

really loud too.

Along with my purple potato, I took two

shots of Jameson in my Egyptian licorice tea so

I wouldn’t take two

shots at the guy next

I took two shots

of Jameson in

my Egyptian

licorice tea so

I wouldn’t take

two shots at the

guy next door.”

door. Suddenly I

was no longer living

in paradise, but I

was unwillingly

transported to

industrial downtown

Detroit.

Ok, I was edgy. I

took a walk. Some of

my neighbors were

not worried about the

hurricane because it

had never happened

before historically.

SMH. I was better off talking to Prince. These are

the same humans who say that they don’t know

anyone who has died from the virus. SMHH.

Smacking my head harder.

I a sked one of these neighbors if the entire

planet had ever been shut down by a virus? He

stared at me like I was crazy.

What helps me through all of this is my IDMs

(interdimensional messages) from my Mom. She

is no longer on the planet but has a way of making

herself known and I still listen to her. And God, of

course, and meditation. And Jameson. And now,

of course, Prince the Purple Potato.

In the meantime, I choose to find the miracles

that other people might miss. Call me crazy, but a

purple potato made my day and took my mind off

of everything that was going on around me.

I keep reminding myself that behind all of this

insanity is an invisible, subtle backdrop, a canvas

if you will, like the air we don’t see but if it weren’t

there, we would not be either.

I took a deep breath and was grateful that I still

could

as I felt

the air

around

me,

realizing

that I

was still

painted

here.


16 \\ Foolish Times

Halloween Masks for 2020

// Debbie Harris

2020 has been a one-of-a-kind year. Everyone has

been ready for Halloween since April. We’ve all

been wearing masks. Of course, these masks are a

little different. They’re for protection, not for trying

to look like Batman.

People have been wearing all kinds of masks

to help prevent the spread of COVID-19-- paper

masks, homemade cloth masks, purchased

pre-made cloth masks. Some people even use a

bandana or a neck cloth that they can pull over

their faces. The hard core mask wearer will don a

contraption that looks like a WWI surplus gray face

cover with a salt shaker top type vent in it. With all

these options, you can choose the type of mask that

fits you best, but remember, no matter what mask

you wear, it needs to cover your nose. In the game

of let’s-not-spread corona virus, the nose is half of

the potentially dangerous duo. It counts.

Some people have become mask fashionistas.

They have many different colored masks and they

match them with their outfit. Some people like

solid color masks; others want prints. Making and

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marketing masks has become a cottage industry.

Some people like pictures on their masks— big,

red lips, a Disney character, a flower, their favorite

sports team, a pithy saying. Forget the latest shoe

style. Get a mask with a big daisy on it that says,

“Kindness Rocks!.” I don’t care which style of mask

anyone wears, just as long as

they include their nose in it.

Unlike Halloween

masks, we need to have a

protective mask wherever

we go. People try to make

sure they’ll be covered by

stashing extra masks—in

their cars, purses, pockets,

and even diaper bags. More

important than a Darth

Vader mask on Halloween is

an N-95 in the diaper bag.

People have different ways

of not wearing their masks

when they don’t need to.

Some people take them off

completely. I do this when I’m outside walking by

myself. I’ll loop the ear straps around my wrist,

HEE!

HEE! HEE!

GIGGLE!

One side effect

of wearing a

protective

mask that I’ve

found, is what I

believe is called

“maskne.”

Watch as

GODZELDA

Destroys

WinslowArt TV

Thursday,

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Hosted by the divine

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Rebroadcast at

8pm Thursday night,

12pm and 9pm Friday,

6pm on Saturday,

and

1pm and 1am

on Sunday...

just in

case I

meet

up with

people

or go into a store and have to put it back on. I’ve

also been known to do the hammock for my chin

look. Some people do the ear dangle. They’ll take

the strap off of one ear and let the mask dangle

from the other. Is that the cool way to not wear

a mask? Like the 50’s greasers who rolled their

Lucky Strikes up in the sleeve

of their white tee shirt?

Or maybe it just means: “I

don’t breathe well wearing

a mask and I hate it.” I’ve

yet to meet a person since

COVID restrictions who’s

told me they love wearing a

protective mask and wished

the trend had started sooner.

And by the way—the nose

counts. Keep it covered too.

Unfortunately, masks

aren’t like sunglasses. I

doubt it would work to just

loop an ear grip inside the

front of your shirt and let it

lie on your chest. I guess you could wear the mask

on the top of your head like some people do with

sunglasses, but that would be quite a stretch.

One side effect of wearing a protective mask

that I’ve found, is what I believe is called “maskne.”

That’s the pimples you get on your mask covered

areas from your skin not being able to breathe. As

much as I may like a sign of youth on my face, chin

pimples isn’t really my first choice. Maybe I should

buy some stock in Clearasil.

However you decided to dress for Halloween,

your costume will likely include a mask. Maybe we

can all be bank robbers. I’ll be the one wearing a

faded cloth mask with make-up stains on it. May

you have a safe and COVID-19 free Halloween. And

keep your nose covered too.


DILLIGS!?

October 2020 // 17

Graffiti Grannies and

Humor Boosters

To have a “boyfriend” at my age sounds, well,

absurd. But I will say that my “very special friend”

and I have a soul connection that has deepened

over the years. As we spooned and snuggled this

morning, our faces shone like fairy love due to

matching strands of drool. How blessed I am to…

dammit, is that a Tootsie Roll in the corner?!!? So

much for soul cuddles with a goddamned cat. O

beast! Thou hast betrayed my lovingkindness and

doth smite me with thy evil wicked ways! Yes,

biblical lingo can add some class to whining. Okey

dokey, and welcome to another dose of snake oil

advice at DILLIGS!? (Does It Look Like I Give a

Sh*t!?)

QUESTION: After moving back with my

parents, I’m in an identity crisis with zero selfconfidence.

DILLIGS: Take heart. Labels and

roles aren’t “you,” but are simply costumes. They

do change and you may wear many. Right now

my identity costume is “Crazy-Ass Germophobe,

Relaxed Fit.” To create confidence, I recommend

adding a no-iron dental smock to your wardrobe.

After watching a YouTube video, I gave myself a

tooth implant. What a rush! Five more teeth to do,

and I can only get better each time.

QUESTION: How can I tell if online photos have

been altered?

DILLIGS: Simple. If you want it to be real, it is.

If you don’t, it isn’t. Example: I received an email

photo showing a rear view of a 1960’s granny in a

flowered dress balancing on top of her walker to

spray political graffiti. Fake? No way. She’s the real

deal! Did she waddle over and paint safely from the

ground? Nope. This elderly patriot, clutching spray

cans and her purse, vaulted onto a rickety walker

to deface a wall with truth—despite a deformed,

arthritic body encased

in four layers of size

XXXL Depends. What

a gal.

QUESTION: I’m already dreading the holidays

alone. Any ideas?

DILLIGS: Lifeboats. Literally. The boat in my

living room is way cheaper than a rowing machine,

and it has a snack tray. On Turkey Day I plan to get

comfy in it and Zoom with a friend in another time

zone while we plow through our frozen pizzas. It’ll

be fun, though the life jacket gets easily stained

and is a bitch to clean. This gem of a plan came to

me after a lengthy meditation with a Sock Puppets

wall calendar and a few cards from my “Tarot for

Tax Accountants” deck.

QUESTION: I think a lot about aging and death

this year. Help!

DILLIGS: Ever the comedian, Joan of Arc’s

battle cry was “Less fear, more tacos!” We can’t

slay that two-headed fear demon but, damn, I’m

gonna litter-train the bastard. And as we slog

through 2020, we need even bigger doses of humor,

like booster vaccines. Ooh, yeah baby, what big

boosters!! Enough snickering, class. Settle down.

Keep them questions coming, kids, and

try to submit electronically because the

usual trucks of fan mail might clog the

USPS. My dedicated staff are working

24/7 here at DILLIGS. Speaking of staff,

get off the keyboard, kitties. Mom has

to type.


18 \\ Foolish Times

Fool-O-Scope

// Bini

Aries: (Mar 21–Apr 19)

The Ram

Yet, another idea...a farce-book- a-thon! Running

for 27 hours in virtually the same cyberspace

circuit. You conceded to amateur conversation,

concluding with thousands of “Likes,” such pizazz.

Then why do you feel like a jittery desert, you

wonder. Just think what you could do with a kiss-athon.

Certainly your lover would prefer.

Taurus: (Apr 20–May 20)

The Bull

Hurry up! You loathe being rushed...move it! This

disgusts you especially when you are so dependable

and always show up. You are more than your data,

more than what your profile claims you to be.

Into the deep dark depths of your Bullish ass lies

a soul ready for a quantum leap. Shine up your

nose ring and show your contacts what real time

communication is about.

Gemini: (May 21–Jun 20)

The Twins

Has anyone made you laugh lately? Listen to

yourself gossiping. You can only fritter your twitter

just so much before your face resembles a snapchat.

You may cry salty tears after you hear what “they”

have been saying about you, things like toil, boil

and hedge-pig whined. Not quite what you had in

mind is it?

Cancer: (Jun 21–Jul 22)

The Crab

Can one kiss do all of this? If it’s Dracula’s, hell

yes! Even your ringtone is playing “Bite Me.” Don’t

rush headlong into anything. First you need a

transfusion before you can trust how you feel.

Clear history and Refresh before you count on The

Count to tell how many tweets it takes to make you

twitch.

Leo: (Jul 23–Aug 22)

The Lion

How long has this world shaking conversation

been going on? Small talk is not for you, unless it’s

all about you. This Hyena co-worker has spritzed

its wits all over you for the last time! You are cool

as a cucumber until your tail taps a haunted rap

song and there lies a litany of diverse tempestual

rhythms. You are a big star, I assure you, it’s just

that the monitor is small.

Virgo: (Aug 23–Sep 22)

The Virgin

Head of Toad...Keep in mind you are a person who

thinks. This is a means to a beginning. Behind the

curtain of an exotic neurotic thrives a functional

advantage: Being able to refer to your ethics on

a daily basis. You wouldn’t be caught dead at the

end of a camera tentacle that was hoovering your

personal data and distributing it to say Farce-Book,

Fritter or Welp!

Libra: (Sep 23–Oct 22)

The Scales

You are thinking that the way you feel must be

illegal! (Is it?) Since you are the Tiffanys of the

Zodiac, extorting advertising dollars for your

birthday desires is a synch with all that Libra-L

charm. You shall get all your birthday wishes this

year because you are so linked in! (But, just n’ case

have the GodFather on speed-dial).

Scorpio: (Oct 23 –Nov 21)

The Scorpion

A passive You doesn’t blow. That is exactly what

Farce-Book is, a passive view on events occurring

willy nilly throughout the day. No wonder you

are tooth of wolf after shedding your identity...

careful that it doesn’t bleed into an unrestrainable

behavior that could destroy that eloquent

anonymity of yours.

Sagittarius: (Nov 22–Dec 21)

The Archer

There is lot’s of itchy, witchy, bitchy in the air!

What happened SAG to your joie-de-vivre?! Did

you get swiped from the predicts of what “they”

think might interest you? Autumn in New York or

golf in the Ozarks? You can’t decipher where all this

spam is coming from-Wool of Bat! What APP really

stands for is, Apply Pressure Promptly to injury or

end up in the outlands alone!

Capricorn: (Dec 22– Jan 19)

The Goat

Melancholy Baby ~ You desire real conversation

and not some pasted post of pictures from a third

party posing as a friend. It’s been a long time

since you’ve bitten the neck of a juicy intelligent

conversation. Arrgh! It’s ok pumpkin, all desires

coming from where you least detect it.

Aquarius: (Jan 23–Feb 18)

The Water-Carrier

When Faced with a head-on approach you tend to

retreat! Face it and see through the shadow lurking.

This could be a case of human trafficking...‘round

about that cauldron of yours, seek the antidote for

being sucked in. Whatever it takes, toe of frog or

a fenny snake, be the person in private that you

reward yourself for in public.

Pisces: (Feb 19–Mar 20)

The Fishes

Whispered in the moon’s eclipse... your thousand

Faces speak. Still remain unique, elusive,

untouchable and mysterious, and no, not a freak.

PI you have a modern day quality with a touch of

the ethereal. Not too many get you babe. Makes no

difference at all because your daydreams are your

truest reality. Edge your way to the cliff’s crest

and dive into the vastness of your imagination and

peak!


October 2020 // 19

The Steps of Laundry

(four loads, two basket variation)

// Gilly Spangler

1. Find favorite/last jeans, shirt, etc

2. Wear them one more day

(funky at the knees and all)

3. Throw them into growing dirty pile/basket

4. Look around your room to find other stuff

5. Socks!!

5(a) Socks!!

5(b) Socks??!

5(c) You’re kidding!! This is in the living room!!

6. Get pile into carry mode - basket or in arms is

fine, stop at the chair to check phone

7. Get pile all the way to washer

8. Pre sorting - two loads for now, four, if you

let things keep going

9. Oh I’m going to need more detergent, go

to couch, play on phone

10. Sort for real - your typical version applies,

or just don’t bother

11. First load in, press start, wait at least

twenty four hours to transfer

12. First load into dryer, look over at lint screen,

set to 60 minutes, press start

13. Phone call, social media and errands, including

grocery store (more detergent.)

14. Transfer dry load into basket, place by couch

or someplace in the living room

15. Second load in, press start, forgot soap,

just pour some in

16. Second load into dryer, look over at lint screen,

set for 60 minutes, press start

17. Get basket from living room, balance

second load on top

18. Find second basket, overfill with second two

loads. Keep baskets nearby (typically 4

loads, 4 hours to 4 days, circumstances prevail)

19. Repeat steps 11-17, omitting buying laundry

soap, leaving second

basket on

20. Find something on

TV, dump first

basket onto couch,

push it all to

one side

21. Glass of wine,

move pile over and

watch show

22. On the way to pour

a third glass, look

at pile

23. Begin folding first

two loads (How

cute...the cat’s

sleeping in the basket, stop to pet cat)

23(a) Try to fold and stack nicely on back of couch

23(b) Should I keep these? Uhh. Oh well.

23(c) Just fold haphazardly now. Who cares??

Laundry cops aren’t around

24. Wake up cat, stack in basket, and place near

bedroom doorway

25. Where’s the bottle opener?

26. Find PJ’s in basket, trying not to disturb stacks.

Oh, well.

27. Repeat steps 20-24 for second two loads

28. Sidestep baskets and get to bed

29. Place baskets near closet and carefully grab

things to wear, one to two days is fine

30. (Day three) move basket closer to closet,

dresser, or just on top of dresser

30 (a) or the treadmill

31. First basket is almost empty. Put things in

drawers now. Place dirty clothes in basket

32. Repeat steps 29-31, omitting step 26, for

second basket.

You should be good for about six more days.


20 \\ Foolish Times

SINCE SOMEONE

LEAKED IT ANYWAY

I was ordered by General Westmorland never to

speak of it, because it could have world-changing

implications. And the Government couldn’t give

me my Purple Heart or any of the other medals

even some of the fellows under my command got.

The reason they gave for not giving it to me was

because all my fighting took place in what weren’t

technically Combat Zones: Cambodia and Laos and

all those places.

But I was parachuted behind enemy lines, and

made my way to Ho Chi Minh’s office, wonderful

fellow, I think the world of him; but a great

negotiator, although, of course, in the end, I got

what I’d been sent there to do, and that was end the

Vietnam War.

Ho lived in Boston for a while, you know, so we

had some friends in common, and had been to

some of the same restaurants and so on.

Anyway, I spent a week there, the first day having

my bone spurs treated by Ho’s personal doctor,

with some Oriental herbs and things, and that’s

why they haven’t bothered me since.

Of course, the fake news

reporters never heard of my

mission, and when they did,

they refused to write about it

because they could see that

I was going to be great, first

as the greatest builder in the

history of New York City, and

then in the world.

You know the wall

separating Vietnam from

China: I designed that. Ho

was amazed. He got his

people working on it even

before I left, and it’s great, the greatest wall in the

history of Asia. Incredible. And beautiful! Perfect!

Of course, mine with Mexico will be greater. But

in Asia, mine’s the greatest. Ho and I signed our

signatures on the first

stone, with the date. It’s

there. Everyone knows

it. But the Democrats,

you know, JFK and

LBJ and that crowd,

they didn’t want me to

be famous, so they’ve

refused to publicize my

great accomplishments,

ending the Vietnam

War and all that,

and with bone spurs,

although I’ve endured

their pain without

letting on, nearly all

my life, but the fake

news people, they know

about it, they stole my

medical records and

publicized them, but

never wrote about how

Ho flew me all the way

back to New York on

his private plane, and

I took him down to

Florida for the weekend

before he flew back.

It’s in his records,

but they’re all in

Vietnamese. He spoke

French and English,

You know the

wall separating

Vietnam

from China: I

designed that.”

too, you know. So do I, and I picked up lots of

Vietnamese during my week there, but I’m ordered

not to use it because of the implications it could

have for China and Russia, whose leaders love me

and know that I could out-negotiate either of them

or even both of them at once. Great guys, each of

them, and big fans of me. You can tell.

And I did get Ho to release all the prisoners

in that hotel–really second rate, not like any of

my hotels- so that fellow who didn’t become an

admiral like his father and grandfather, but just lay

around for most of the war, he

could come home.

Most of the people in

Congress didn’t serve. Even

Mike Pence didn’t serve in

Vietnam. But I went there,

under cover of darkness,

bravely parachuting in and

ending the war.

But the fake news won’t

tell the truth about it. But

that’s why he always resented

me, voted against me. He

knew I wasn’t a loser: I went

into what was then North Vietnam, night-time

parachute drop, unarmed except for my excellent,

incredible, beautiful intelligence, and won the

war, got Ho to see that he couldn’t out-negotiate

me. Great guy. Fine sense of humor. Little. But he

couldn’t help that. I’m the tallest President in the

history of the world.

But the fake news people, they change the

angles of their cameras. I’m taller than Comey.

But you’d never know if from the fake loser failing

newspapers and TV networks.

And I shouldn’t be telling you this, because I was

ordered by the head of the UN not to reveal how I

won the Vietnam War, brought the boys home, and

opened up trade

with all of Asia.

But since it’s been leaked, I just thought I should

clear it all up, tell the real truth, not some other

version that people who weren’t even there, who got

out because their fathers knew doctors who could

get them out, while I was there, behind the lines,

risking my life, but you’ll never read about it or

hear about it. But the good people of America, they

know it, and that’s why they all love me more than

they’ve ever loved anyone else, except maybe Jesus,

but he didn’t end the Vietnam War, his bone spurs

aching every minute.

We don’t even really need an election. Save

money. Everyone knows I’d win again, with the

biggest, most beautiful, incredible margin in

history. Again. Perfect.

So I graciously accept right now. Because I love

the American people and the American flag, and

Jesus.

And that’s the truth. You can ask anyone.

Kellyanne, for example, she’ll tell you it’s the truth.


October 2020 // 21

1) Last month when the sky turned orange,

what were your thoughts?

2) What are your plans for Halloween?

3) Is pineapple an acceptable topping for a pizza?

Bob #1

1) It was very eerie and quiet. It was like time was

standing still.

2) Dressing up and not being able to go to a party

will not be fun. I’ll probably just stay home and watch

Swengoolie.

3) Pineapple is crazy good on pizza. Not sure how

Canadian bacon got involved but it works for me.

Robert

1) If it was the end of the world, I would rather hide in

my house and not be found.

2) I hope we don’t many trick or treaters so I can eat

the candy my wife buys.

3) I grew up with the classic cheeses and pepperoni.

I’ll stick with that.

Roberta

1) I’ve never seen such a site but in its beauty, it was

hard to breath.

2) I always stay home and hand out candy to the

kids. This year I’m not expecting much action on the

streets.

3) Not sure who came up with that but it is a little

weird. Tastes good but sounds weird.

Bob #2

1) I thought it was the end of the world and stayed

home. When my boss reassured me everything was

OK, I went to work.

2) I like Halloween and dressing up. This is one

holiday you can’t stop me from having fun. It will be

nice to be someone else for a day.

3) Fruit on pizza is disgusting.


22 \\ Foolish Times

Foolish Sudoku

Answers

from page 21

Foolish Search

Answers

from page 10

A man was lying on the busy sidewalk after getting hit

by a bus.

“A priest. Somebody get me a priest!” the man gasped.

“I’m not a priest. But for 50 years, I’ve lived near the

Carmel Mission and I’ve overheard their services.

I can recall a lot of it, and maybe I can be of some

comfort.”

The dying man agreed.

The old man knelt down and said to him in a solemn

voice:

B-5 .... I-19 ... N-38 ... G-54.... O-72

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October 2020 // 23

ANYTHING GOES

Readers old enough to remember when “a glimpse

of stocking was looked on as something shocking”

will understand where I’m coming from.

I was never a prude when it came to female

attire. Time was when I fancied myself a champion

of social reform and sexual freedom. At least that’s

how I came across on paper, probably because it

sounded fashionable in those days. Alas, I perceive

now that the world’s values have evolved a lot faster

than I have, leading me to think that maybe I’m the

one who’s repressed.

The problem with women’s fashion today, simply

stated, is that no one is shocked anymore. Used

to be that most women kept their property more

or less in reserve. On rare occasions, when they

accidentally let their guard down in public, they

had enough decorum to feign embarrassment…

even when the alleged “malfunction” wasn’t

entirely accidental. To this old-timer, that veneer

of modesty and restraint seems oddly appealing in

retrospect. Nowadays, “anything goes.” There are

no accidents. There is no restraint. Garments have

become shorter, skimpier, more obvious, nearly

transparent. Limbs, body parts and underthings

are flaunted deliberately, flagrantly, with little

finesse or subtlety. Bo-o-o-rring!

Think of fashion as theater. Audiences don’t

attend a performance of “Oedipus

Rex” to discover what happens. They

already KNOW the end from the

beginning. What draws them back

into the arena time and again is the

experience of seeing the mystery

tastefully and skillfully unveiled.

Take it from a reformed bad-boy:

anticipation is as crucial to an

experience as the experience itself,

maybe more so. And I, for one, miss

that anticipation.

For that reason, I maintain that

gift wrap is often more precious than

the actual gift, insofar as it masks the

shape

of said contents,

suggesting a texture

and quality more

enchanting than

the comparatively

humdrum

merchandise

contained within.

Wrapping whets

the recipient’s

appetite, forces him

to wait, prolongs the

suspense, forestalls

the reward…or

letdown, as the case

may be. Sorry if that

sounds sexist or demeaning. But ALL of us, women

as well as men, have been similarly disappointed

sometime or another. (My own unveiled real estate

could be THE most grievous letdown of all!)

Not that it matters what this opinionated old fart

likes or dislikes. But my advice for ladies wishing

to impress me is to keep

me guessing. Whatever

you possess, whatever

The problem

with women’s

fashion today,

simply stated,

is that no one

is shocked

anymore.”

you’re concealing—

assuming, of course,

that you possess

something worth

concealing—don’t reveal

it all at once. Begin

small. Modest attire,

subtle mannerisms,

intimations of things

hoped for, of pleasures

not yet seen. Proceed

slowly. In the words of

the Bard, “The play’s the

thing.” Give me time to savor the drama. Let me

nurture the mystery. The trick is to suggest without

declaring, to whisper without shouting, without

ever raising your voice…to tease me into thinking

that you’re concealing a prize I haven’t already seen

hundreds of times, even though I have.

In short, you need to humor this observer. Don’t

begin at “ground zero.” Work your way there slowly,

tastefully. Less is more. If you show me your cream

filling before I’ve tasted the chocolate icing, you’ll

ruin the effect, and I’ll lose interest. Because, you

see, keeping the payoff at arm’s length for as long

as possible is what the game is all about. Or so it

used to be.

TUNE IN 9-10AM

Every Saturday morning

LOCAL GUYS

ON

LOCAL RADIO

also streaming on

www.shagbagshow.com


24 \\ Foolish Times

To Advertise

on the Cork

Board Call:

648.1038

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