DIATRIBE GETS NEW CLOTHES……zuki says to eat more art

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAGood Morning Seekers of Truth and Light,

If by chance you happen to be remnants of the two or three that read my blog of fictional flatulence I apologize for what might be perceived as a 180.  Prior to my foray into the blogosphere I’ve always wanted to be an artist!  At this point in my life it doesn’t have to be the Mona Lisa, but something just for me.

Not that it matters much but I did earn a BFA from BYU and rode a full 2 yr scholarship at Idaho State to snag a Master’s degree from a reluctant newly installed Department head Tony Martin.

This cultured risibility should be encased with real enthusiasm and joy so at the very least the observer is either amused or disgusted.  Being indifferent shouldn’t be an option, so if it happens I either failed or the observer’s head is scheduled for removal in an emergency colonoscopy.

For you purists that accidently found this page and still reading this desperate cry for help, you’ll notice I have been influenced greatly by both Robert Arneson and David Middlebrook who’ll be featured often on this site.  I should clarify it was David’s early work in clay that blew me away.  But over the years he decided the unpredictability of working in clay was more than he could take and now works in stone, metal, and other mediums not placed in a 2300 degree kiln.

I will be transforming this site as quickly as my I.T. Advisor and son has the time and patience to guide me through it.  Hopefully it’s fun, educational, and above all interesting.  I may fall short from time to time but know this:  I always mean well!  So check in on me in the hope I’ve made progress from your previous visit and pray with me that it blossoms into a site centered on art and being an artist.



fahrenheitGood Morning Invioables,

Oh the humanity!

Just like the Hindenburg, Curmudgeon Corner has crashed and burned leaving only me to tell the tale.  I saw the Bagwan weeping, wailing, and gnashing his teeth as news of his dalliances became public.  Shamed beyond his ability to cope, we speculate that he broke his neck falling off his high horse! But to his credit, he died face up and according to the Paramedics had a smile on his face.  Incredibly, I’ve received two or three notes of condolences at this tragic loss.

Dawn the Bartender is still around but was seriously injured at a Justin Bieber concert. You see, Bieber removed his shirt sliding it back and forth between his legs…driving who we thought was Joe and thousands of twelve year old girls crazy.

Like screaming ‘FIRE!’ in a theater, Joe rushed the stage to in fact snag the shirt for himself.  Calamitously his self-absorbed actions triggered a rush of 4,000 screaming young girls all competing for Bieber’s pheromone soaked shirt!  In the ensuing confusion Dawn the bartender while trying to hold back the onslaught of pubescent girls was trampled….subsequently rupturing her spleen.

Last I heard Dawn’s medical expenses were substantial. She sued Joe, Bieber, and the theater for trauma, pain, and mental anguish successfully settling out of court for an undisclosed sum.  Due to her newly found riches she has retired and knee deep in her garden…literally, and now has moved on to greener pastures with her new life on a dairy farm.

Let me give you some background before we get to the violent and tragic ramifications that unfolded before the entire “Rules Committee’s” affectively changing their lives forever! The above tragedy unleashed the “Finger of God.”

First of all Joe, the pillar of the Corner, the “man” who was the glue that held it all together wasn’t actually Joe at all, rather to our collective amazement he wasn’t even a man.  In Joe’s rush to the stage and the act of tackling Bieber to the ground his pants split revealing what appeared to be a ‘Cod Piece’ strapped in place over what was clearly a vagina! With all the phone cameras present it was plastered all over the Internet not to mention the entertainment section of the Post.  Our very own Joe was OUTED!

It was discovered Joe was in fact the notorious Mary Agnes O’Connor a 1966 graduate of a local all-girls school and an infamous fugitive from justice. As you might imagine this shocking news didn’t sit well with the full body of the “Rules Committee” gathered at “Curmudgeon Corner.” Ironically all were present to specifically elect Joe as our new Chairman. Feeling betrayed there was mumbling and whispering revealing several plots for revenge! This egregious act had to be reconciled if justice was to be served.

Mary Agnes was the ringleader of a group of violent insurrectionists who like so many in the 60’s broke the law to further the causes they supported.  While many groups of that era were protesting for civil rights or against the Viet Nam war, Mary Agnes and her group opposed a rather obscure sugar tariff. Evidently Mary Agnes had a sweet tooth!

While their goals may not have been as lofty as others, their methods were just as violent. They robbed Salvation Army Santa’s, stole from poor boxes, rolled drunks and even stole cookies from Girl Scouts! They used their ill-gotten gains to further their own cause and distributed the remainder to other activist movements. Mary Agnes admired the work of the SDS and even tried to give them financial support only later to find out she had actually sent the donation to the LDS! Ultimately though, she went into hiding and took on a male persona and has eluded capture since then.

Fast forward to the year 2005 we were all sucked in by this wanna be transgendered mercenary and recruited the curmudgeons one by one to join the now Joe in her latter-day ‘Quixotic’ missions. We were all promised 72 virgins if we cooperated making it an easy decision for we curmudgeons to go along.

But things quickly turned ugly once Joe was outed as Mary Agnes.

What makes this all the more interesting is Mary Agnes’ co-conspirators make up the bulk of ‘Curmudgeon Corner’ members both now at Blondie’s and earlier at Dewey’s. That’s right; DV ANT, Madcow, Cush, Roger the Hairdresser, zuki, Bagwan, Griz, and El Poo where all members of the original gang. Hopefully under the circumstances our legal system will show a bit of mercy.

Roger the Hairdresser was the first casualty. You’d think given his profession he’d be more sympathetic about supporting a transgendered ‘Robin Hood’ but was actually the most vengeful. Alone he secured a butane powered tar melting trailer used to repair or install roofs.  RTH tiny frame managed to drag it to the service elevator and positioned it over Blondie’s entry from the roof.

While waiting for Joe er..um Mary Agnes to arrive he got thirsty and decided he had time to get a beer at Blondie’s.  Unfortunately for RTH his timing sucked.  Just as he approached the entry the trailer full of hot tar which had been left unsecured dumped the entire load on Roger.  He died from first degree burns and suffocation from his lips and nose being sealed from the tar.  A couple of local punks added insult to injury by kicking any life left in the bitter little man right out of him.

He never looked better!

Dv’ant, El Poo, Madcow, and Griz who’s membership was due to expire anyways decided to teach Mary Agnes aka Joe a lesson for her deception.  As not to raise suspicion and tip off Mary Agnes they all bought tickets and attended a reunion concert featuring the Monkees, Barry Manilow, and Boy George. Nobody would suspect anything and was a perfect cover.

An invitation was extended to Mary Agnes to join them but being recently outed left her embarrassed and just wanted to lie low, so she declined.  Expecting this, the boys now possessed an air-tight alibi and slipped out a side exit door during Manilow’s performance of “Mandy” The plan was set into motion.

Griz, the fat bald pompous one of the committee has always considered himself the “pretty-boy” of the group and was to call Mary Agnes feigning a need to confess his love for her and would she meet him at Angelo’s for a glass of wine.  Still very conflicted about her now disclosed secret she accepted his invitation.

Unbeknownst to Mary Agnes the rest of the boys were waiting in front; parked on 6th ave poised for a quick get-a-way.  When she got out of her car Griz walked toward Mary Agnes meeting her directly in front of the getaway car.  In a single fluid motion Griz put a chloroform soaked cloth over her nose and Mary Agnes collapsed into a wide open trunk and then whisked away.

When Mary Agnes came to she had been placed in a narrow container much like a coffin.  It was dark with only the sound of a fan blowing fresh air into the container.  She’d been stripped naked and seizing upon the irony, they left her still wearing her cod piece!  She lost her voice screaming for help and could only whisper.

The boys were still on schedule and made their way back to Blondie’s praising Barry Manilow’s voice; excited he still found a way to punch out a tune. This was their story and they were sticking to it.

They had buried the box under a Spruce located in Wash Park and planned on holding Mary Agnes for ransom.  A note was slid under the door at AB&C Mary’s business, in hopes her family would not ask questions and pay the $100K they asked for—that is if they ever wanted to see her again.

Cush was visiting his Aunt Myrna to check on her brand new oxygen tent and electronic breathing apparatus when he heard of Joe’s revelation.  Cush turned an ashen gray and immediately explained to his ailing aunt he had to go.  Putting on his teamsters cap he made a 90 degree turn and stormed out of her house to meet up at Curmudgeon Corner.  Sadly he failed to notice the cord had wrapped around his foot unplugging the breathing device in his hasty departure.

Flailing her baggy skinned arms frantically and turning blue, Cush waved back to her saying he’d be back soon.  She died a slow humiliating death.

Completely clueless Cush raced to Blondie’s knowing something was amiss at the corner.  He arrived to find El Poo, Griz, Dv’ant and Madcow going on and on about Boy George and his newly styled make up.  Cush immediately asked if they had heard about Joe’s outing.  Smiling at each other the boys assured him they had and are doing something about it.

The boys decided to let Cush in on the deal and ask for more ransom money. It was either that or listen to Cush blather on and on about his beloved but deceased Aunt Myrna.  Cush wasn’t smiling. He demanded to know his benefactor’s whereabouts. The boys were surprised by this but stuck together and would not give up Mary Agnes’s location.  There was an estimated 24 hours of battery life left that supported air intake for poor Mary and time was running out!

Cush being a man of action (perhaps not as he is a union man) immediately left to retrieve his twelve gauge shotgun and returned to Blondie’s determined to save Mary’s life.  A determined Cush, eyes ablaze with hatred, pointed the shotgun down the bar telling everyone to get out except our boys now held at gun point.

He asked them one more time where she was buried.  When they refused Cush didn’t hesitate and blew all four off their stools.  He reloaded and emptied the gun again into their faceless bodies.  Then once more for good measure!  But now he realized he had just killed the only people who know where she is!  Shit….

Sirens could be heard in the distance so Cush pushed his way past the cowering patrons at Blondie’s and bolted.

Knowing he’d be identified as the killer Cush didn’t have much time so he decided to make a run for it.  He hitched up his new boat, gathered camping gear, and filled water jugs for a long trip.  Our sobbing Teamster was inconsolable; tears making it difficult to see.  He really didn’t know how fast he was going but was traveling 95 mph and dragging his boat actually turned his new vessel into an air foil that lifted him and his truck off the road directly into a bridge abutment bursting his entire rig into flames!

Unfortunately for Mary Agnes the ransom note left earlier was read by Julie the office manager as well as a few other employees.  They collectively wondered what to do.  However, Julie pointed out that Mary Agnes really had no family and had bequeathed the successful business to them should she/he pass away.

The proud new owners of AB&C closed early and bought Champagne to celebrate their collective good fortune.

Mary could hear the fan supplying her oxygen begin to sputter and fluctuate in the delivery of air; she knew at that moment nobody was coming for her.

As the sole surviving “Curmudgeon” I felt like I owed the two or three of you reading this ‘Cacophony of Clucks’ an explanation for closing the ‘Diatribe.’ I’m at a loss for words and you can’t imagine the grief! I’ll try and pick up the pieces…and move on…hopefully to make amends for a lifetime of captaining a rudderless ship and become a useful citizen…..or at least that’s my intention.  I will lead a life of sanctimonious accusations the rest of my allotted rotations.  Goodbye! (for now anyways)



haggard womanGood Morning Victims of Circumstance,

There seems to be a never ending stream of bull shit emanating from the mouths of infectious drip-dicks that the once famous ‘Susie Chapstick’ was seen engaged in coitus with the ‘Bagwan;’ staining the ‘Doghouse’ parking lot. Not rushing to judgment I did some asking around and conducted a thorough investigation. Based on DNA samples taken from smeared spooge left on the dashboard of Suzy’s car, it appears the rumor is true. While this in its self isn’t surprising, the fact our ‘Holy Fucker’ broke his 15 year vow of celibacy for a fat dried up old hag with thinning hair has me in a foul mood. If one takes on the thankless job of being the ‘Diatribe’s’ spiritual leader, swearing to abstain from carnal pleasure, then one must do it! Never mind he’s married to his sainted wife, how in the name of everything holy does he insert his ‘Johnson’ into that bag of worms?

For the two or three of you too young to remember, Suzy Chaffee after doing well in the Winter Olympics became the attractive spokeswoman for Chapstick brand lip balm and forever known as ‘Suzy Chapstick.’ She went on to become a political activist for women’s causes in the 70’s and her talent as a lobbyist became widely known when it was revealed she fucked Ted Kennedy to get the 1978 Amateur Sports Act passed into law. I thought I had read someplace Sleazy Suzy had moved back to Colorado, and it appears she has. ‘Bagovermehead’ never had a chance!

Now we the disillusioned have no spiritual compass to set a moral course for this our humble forum. Oh the shame! “Oh the humanity” Oh shit!

This will no doubt come down to an emergency committee meeting to discuss disciplinary action or possible sanctions against the ‘Holy Fucker’ for breach of contract. I’m in hopes it won’t come down to that. We curmudgeons do whine and complain allot, often asking for the head of a perceived ne’er-do-well, but we’re also a kind and forgiving lot. Besides Just Jackin,’ who of us hasn’t fallen prey to the charms of a seductress bent on picking our pockets? Sure we hold Baggy to a higher standard but in spite of his claims he is after all mortal; subject to failure.

I intend to interview (provided I can be worked into his schedule) the mystic to determine his contriteness and willingness to learn from this unfortunate mess to once again rise up and become our spiritual compass. His attendant’s claim he’s been locked in the ‘Meditation Room’ for the last 72 hours since the news of his dalliance became public. I think this is a good sign. I’m sure he feels just awful about this and is seeking further light and knowledge. I suspect he’ll emerge from this ugly dilemma a changed man thus benefiting us all.

In the mean time though, I hope his ‘Johnson’ turns into a burnt matchstick!


ZUKI HAS THE EXPRESS LANE BLUES…..peggy offers letter of the law

grocery_line_skeleton-1-e1372459139271Good Morning Disciples of Free Enterprise,

It’s funny how we perceive the same event or series of events so differently. I was standing in a long line at the grocery store holding my basket of staples because I failed to qualify for the 8 items or less line. There was only one other stand open, and had three women with substantial loads of groceries ahead of me. God forbid they bring on another check out person! However, things we’re progressing nicely and I was certain my inconvenience would be brief. Lost in my own thoughts, I was quickly brought back to the present, when a call to the manager was voiced over the intercom; more time wasted.

Something was terribly wrong. I could sense it. Looking enviously back to the “Express Checkout” line, I noticed only one person finishing up their transaction. I was at a crossroads; do I risk jumping out of line only to be rebuffed because I was a mere five items over the limit? Or do I continue to be the obedient customer and wait it out? As I continued to stand in line, the Express checker seemed oblivious to my personal crisis (and isn’t it always about me), as she was very busy wiping down her checkout area. I decided to risk it. I quickly pulled out of line and approached the freshly wiped stand offering my best smile and greeting.

Peggy was not amused. She had seen better days (haven’t we all) and judging from her demeanor suspect she hates her job. As I began putting the items on the conveyor belt from my basket, Peggy announced I was disqualified from participating as an Express Checkout customer. I knew this might be a contingency, but really hadn’t prepared for it, so I winged a reply, “I’m sorry, do you have something better to do”? If looks could kill, I’d be at the very least paralyzed. About that time the recently summoned manager shows up at the long line of aggravated shoppers. Seeing this, Peggy begrudgingly began to scan my little order.

I’m always amazed how people utilize “the rules” to inject themselves into our lives. There’s the spirit of the law, and there’s the letter of the law. In this case, if Peggy had her way, I’d have to return to the end of a long line, VERY unhappy instead of the minute it took to handle my basket of goodies, and leave a satisfied customer. I suppose that’s why we have lawyers. Please join me in prayer that Peggy either dies in her sleep, or finds employment on an assembly line, both would put her out of her misery.


ZUKI HAS MEA CULPA ……but says he did his part

suicide girl copyGood Morning “Confederation of Dunces”

“In 2014 3,385 children and youth ages 0-19 years were killed with a gun. This includes homicides, suicides, and unintentional injuries.  This is equivalent to about 9 deaths per day, a figure commonly used by journalists.”
The 3,385 firearms related deaths for age group 0-19 years breaks down as follows:

214 – unintentional
1,078 – suicides
1,990 – homicides
83  –   for which the intent could not be determined
20  –  legal intervention

Perhaps if we all put our hands together we can coax the ‘Suicide’ fairy into a more aggressive posture.  Killing themselves is a tremendous ‘community service’ and a clean way to eliminate the unworthy saving taxpayers millions on social remedies that are nothing more than “polite bathroom talk.”  I understand the above numbers represent children, but think about it.  If we could double the number (suicide) above, not only would moronic behavior be less prevalent, but would go a long way into balancing the national debt.  I’ve done my part.  In a scant three months, I drove Kenny to put a bullet through his head at the same place he had earlier scattered his mother’s ashes.  While not confirmed, there’s serious speculation that Phat Ass Patty also ate a bullet.

If true, I certainly contributed to it.

Now get out there and make somebody’s life miserable!