Archive for category Ordained

THE POLE THEATER TAKES CENTER STAGE…….zuki brings specimen jar

a poleGood Morning Tatterdemalions,

I was perusing my normal sources of inspiration and entertainment for the weekend and came across a Blues Theater website promoting a ‘Pole Dancing’ competition.  This isn’t necessarily your “Father’s pole dance” either as the marquee announced pole art, pole comedy, pole drama, and pole classique!


When did this happen?  Back in the day…and I’m talking way back in the day, pole dancing was limited to firemen and strip clubs.  Today we’ve got “Festivus for the rest of us” introduced in a Seinfeld episode where the pole centered on the airing of grievances with family members over the Christmas holidays.  The North and South Poles are of course geographic markers, Antipodes mark absolute opposites, mathematically speaking “a pole of a meromorphic function is a certain type of singularity” whatever that means, and certainly who can forget the quickly disappearing ‘ski poles’ used to gracefully navigate down a mountain ski slope.  I missed it somehow…I mean the day “Pole Comedy” arrived at a club near you.

I’m reluctant to admit this, but I honestly don’t find poles all that amusing!

I was a mediocre pole vault-er in high school, but 11 feet was honorable in those days and I’m a better man for the experience.  I continued to marvel at the promotion offering a chance for a member of the audience to join the ‘artist’ on stage as evidently there’s an ‘Amateur Division.’ Guest stars that, assuming this is all true and not an elaborate ruse, are well known in the Pole Theatre community and will also perform.  I honestly had NO idea this obsession with poles was so pervasive, but there it was calling to me with bright shiny pictures and text with the following announcement:

Pole Theatre USA:

Friday Night:  Amateur Competition and guest performances by some of the biggest names in the pole industry.  Back by popular demand is Sally Slipenslidey who perfected the running leap catching the pole with both knees using her momentum to spin gracefully onto the stage completing the move with a springing hand-stand onto her feet.  (Para-Medics are on standby).

Gracing the stage and our headliner for the evening is our very own Bertha Clinchmeyer.  She defies gravity by wrapping her buttocks around the pole and with amazing strength and muscle control uses her ass cheeks to climb the pole!  (Please no cameras)

Saturday Night:  Professional Competition and guest performances by last year’s national champion Olivia Spittle; bringing her plates on a stick routine to our humble venue!  Marge “Firehouse” Brickman will be there without a helmet as she uses the pole to drop 20 feet directly onto her head….she gets up (most nights) and carries a basket of fruit on the flat portion of her head on exit!  You have to see it to believe it.  Cheryl Boneme’ is our final act!  Get a front row seat and watch Cheryl hump and make love to her favorite pole; gyrating for tips..   (Towelettes will be available)

Our emcee both nights is Michelle Shimmy, a Sydney-based pole dancer, instructor and co-owner of the Pole Dance Academy.  Shimmy has performed and competed all over the world, and we could not be more excited to have her on our stage!  She will be available for private dances after the show.

Our judging panel consists of Marlo Frisken, Nadia Sharif, Maddie Sparkle, David “Toothless” Owen, and Natasha Wang.

For the two or three of you still reading this ‘bucolic’ rhapsody this “New shit coming to light” has opened up a whole new world for this observer of “life’s rich pageant.”  I plan to get a front row seat this Saturday night.

On a side note:

I’m looking for an attractive woman interested in cooking while on a pole.  It’ll take some practice but believe that by securing a hot plate around her waist my star would cook then feed some lucky customer a ‘Denver’ omelet.  This can’t miss!  Contact me for more details.




george and billGood Morning Cynosure’s of Life’s Rich Pageant,

It’s Monday therefore it must be time for Bagwan’s “Further Truth & Light” brought to you by the good folks at the Clinton Foundation.  While today’s whipping seems far removed from our ‘Holy Cantillates’ usual condescending platitudes and besmirchment, he does make a point.  Please take a minute to familiarize yourselves with Bagwan’s far reaching report as there will be a test.  Enjoy:


ABC News anchor George Stephanopoulos was in the news this week himself. I wanted to weigh in on this but I was afraid I would screw up his last name and sure enough the first time I typed it I did. I was relieved to find that my computer auto-corrected my mistake so I now feel free to proceed. I would say that you add the name Stephanopoulos to his diminutive figure and that almost fake looking shock of hair and you have the makings of a Muppet character on Sesame Street. Only instead of having Jim Henson’s hand up his ass he has Hillary Clinton’s up there. Now don’t get excited Zuki, I am speaking metaphorically.

It turns out that George gave $75,000 to the Clinton Foundation and forgot to mention that to anyone. ABC News’ rules permit charitable donations, but reporters are required to inform management before covering a story related to the organization. Stephanopoulos did not tell his bosses, or viewers, about the donations before interviewing Peter Schweizer on the Sunday public affairs show “This Week” recently. Schweizer is the author of “Clinton Cash,” a book that traces the involvement of organizations that have donated to the Clinton Foundation.

George hammered Schweizer pretty hard suggesting that he had really not uncovered a “smoking gun” in the Clintons’ dealing with the foundation’s donors. The best part was when he questioned Schweizer’s objectivity since Schweizer had written speeches for George W. Bush. Where does he get the nerve – can you even begin to comprehend the hypocrisy here.

George’s connection with the Clintons goes back to when he worked on Bill’s Presidential campaign in 1992. He had previously worked on the Dukakis Presidential campaign so his left wing bona fides are pristine. It would be naïve to think that network news anchors don’t have political beliefs but is it pure coincidence that they all seem to lean left? Even old Uncle Walter Cronkite and Tom Brokaw come off as bleeding heart liberals in their post-career writings.

This whole business of the wayward network news anchor is starting to pile up on us. I have mentioned Brian Williams’ misdeeds before but now the total of his documented on-air lies is up to 11.  And you have to love the audacity of Dan Rather who tried to influence a US Presidential election with a forged document on W’s National Guard service. Dan Rather to this day thinks he did nothing wrong because the end (derailing Bush) more than justified the corrupted means. Poor Brian Williams should not be held accountable because it has become obvious that he suffers from the same malady as our genial host who believes that a good story cannot be held captive to reality and the truth.

While we are dealing with the tawdry and the unseemly, how about those Clintons? The Clinton Foundation that George so generously supported is now on the “Watch List” of the highly respected Charity Navigator. It seems there are questions about donations from countries and corporations that had direct dealings with the State Department while Hillary was Secretary of State. And there are questions about how much of the money donated by the likes of Microsoft, Algeria and George Stephanopoulos ever reached the AID’s victims of Africa.

While I can’t stand the thought of Hillary ever being President, I have actually come around on old Bill. First of all he wasn’t an awful President (not great either) but not awful like the buffoon we currently have. Second the whole Monica thing is a testament to the power a hard-on can wield over the brain of even a Rhodes Scholar. Here you have the most visible and most protected man on the earth living in what amounts to a birdcage enclosed in a glass house and he still manages to get himself some strange. And I don’t think we should hold the perjury charge against him either.  I was told that the first rule of this type of activity is: “Deny it and defy them to prove it”—or Zuki’s less effective, “That’s my story and I am sticking with it.”


A MISPLACED AND DISHEVELED LOVE……just joe stalks his way into her heart

edda moserGood Morning Pusillanimous Drifters,

Have you ever seen a mirage?  Something you felt was a sure thing with tactile surfaces and substance only to watch it evaporate?  I ran into one of our own last night and was pleasantly surprised given nobody has seen him in months!  We sat at the bar (surprise) and caught up with missed “rules committee” meetings although I spared him the minutia normally associated with these little soirees’ and cut to the chase.  Interestingly enough there was very little substance but hoped he appreciated the gesture. I asked where the hell he’d been which caused him to change his demeanor and immediately became serious.  He confessed a horrific story but swore me to secrecy.  This is generally not a good idea as my responsibility to this forum supersedes any promise of keeping lids in place.

Before I move into the meat of the story, I’d like to post this disclaimer:  The following story contains graphic language and adult themes; readers sensitive to such are advised to log off now.  Should you choose to read on, you do so at your own risk.

The Management

This curmudgeon like many of us fancies himself an aficionado of the ‘classics’ and maintains he’s the last of the Renaissance Men.  While I have no problem believing this, however I know only of one thing he does well and had already demonstrated his talent by farting “Yankee Doodle” at the bar. He says the older he gets the pursuit of his passion has taken on a sense of urgency so he travels the country to hear everything from Rachmaninoff to George Gershwin.  He is now rushing to see as many classic operas as possible and has what I can only describe as a ‘bucket list’ with each entry prioritized according to historical significance.

Our associate finally took a knee to the groin though.  In a film production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni in San Francisco our good friend became smitten with Edda Moser who played one of the lead characters ‘Donna Anna.’  Evidently Edda is an accomplished soprano and our associate put taking her to bed atop his ‘bucket list’ postponing the other performances.  Our adventurer further confided that he’s been involved in a campaign of letter writing, phone calls, Fed X, and a standing offer of $5,000.00 to simply enjoy a dinner together.  To date, all efforts have gone without reply.  I had no idea, but according to our heart broken friend, even opera singers have ‘groupies.’  I suppose from her standpoint it’s just best not to encourage anyone!

Our committee member was discouraged but not yet ready to give it up and pressed on.  Ms Moser lives in a ‘gated’ community in Westchester County, New York and is married to a heart surgeon so she lives quite well.  Undaunted, he continued his quest by moving into a nearby Motel 6 that had weekly rates and plastic sheets.  He planned to accidentally bump into her creating an opportunity to introduce himself. Unfortunately by the time he discovered her routines she’d spotted him enough times to be convinced he was stalking her.  Before he could execute his plan the police were summoned and our well intentioned ‘Dickhead’ was taken in for questioning.  There’s now a restraining order in place and was forced to leave the county.  Our boy’s family has rotating shifts to keep an eye on him.

It was good to see my old friend but he’s quickly losing what’s left of his feeble brain and seems to lack discernment of right from wrong.  I understand the idea of chasing a dream only to see it obliterated, but to actually stalk someone who obviously has no interest what-so-ever seems a bit demented to me.

Please join me in a moment of silence for this poor son of a bitch.


ZUKI TAKES MUCH NEEDED VACATION…….hoards of revelers heighten experience

Sunday's Breakfast

Sunday’s Breakfast

Good Morning Sand Dwellers,

How does one begin to describe the living hell that is vacationing with the Grizwald’s? I know I’ve had a few rotations but even with my limited reasoning skills I pictured a paradise of white sand, palm trees, and blue waters maximizing my complete relaxation.  How could anything go wrong?

A gentle breeze wafted the smell of coconut sun tan lotion as I trudged awkwardly through the sand dodging the hundreds of bodies absorbing the sun’s vitamin D but feeling good about the $9 sunglasses I’d just purchased.  I felt pretty hip for an old guy.

I struggled with where I should go for my 4-day vacation.  At the end of 2014 I managed to squeeze out 16 days of vacation but spent all of it working in my studio and watching daytime TV.  Please note:  Daytime TV has nothing to offer anyone with a brain.  So I was determined to actually leave town and travel to someplace with palm trees.  I contacted my very good friends euphemistically referred to as “The Grizwald’s” taken from National Lampoon’s ‘Vacation’ series with Chevy Chase.  It was all set.

It’s with a bit of shame I admit most women are far superior to me and suspect most men when it comes to planning.  Not only was I unaware it was ‘Spring Break’s final weekend but was Easter weekend as well.  For those who’ve not had the privilege of visiting Clear Water Beach, FL—traffic headed to the beach and across a two lane causeway backs up to a crawl 15 miles before even reaching the causeway!

Jimmy my host knowing the above to be true and what must have been at considerable expense set us up at three different hotels nestled right on the beach! This kept us at the center of the beach’s nightlife and its many clubs my entire time there.  I think my host knows me pretty well.

I’ve known Jimmy & Stacy since 1992 and watched their three boys grow up until a tearful goodbye when they traded the Rockies for the gulf shores of Clear Water Beach.  As life’s rich pageant never stops, each of their sons has grown to be young men with successful high school & college football careers, smarts, and all of them are good looking.  As one might expect they all have beautiful girlfriends and an entourage of teammates and friends the Grizwald’s have adopted as their own.  I had no idea they’d all be staying with us and our drunken overnight vigils each successive night.  Yikes!

I quickly discovered the key to surviving this late night sardine can was to drink enough and inhale voluminous amounts of accoutrements suitable for the occasion so that you essentially pass-out allowing a modicum of rest.  I was promised at least half a bed each night, but that proved to be a fools dream and was regularly, sometimes brutally, forced off the bed and onto the floor usually on top of another body.

I had contracted a nasty dose of heartburn…I suspect as a result of “Street Taco’s” eaten earlier and needed to seek relief.

I removed myself from the occupied 10 inches of bed and negotiated each body as much as my physical conditioning would allow and almost made it to the door but got snagged on a blanket or towel and kneed an offensive lineman (nickname of bowling ball) in the ribs!  He never moved or even acknowledged the event so I wandered the streets at 5 am looking for a 7/11 to buy medication.  Jeez….

Sunday being the last night we pulled out all the stops and went to Shepherd’s to get out on the dance floor.  For the two or three of you still reading this dry-humpty hump perhaps you can appreciate the fact that at 65 rotations the pickings are pretty slim for dance partners so I turned to technology.  Tinder is designed to find women/men wherever one happens to be using GPS location algorithms and hook up.

I matched almost immediately with Pam a reasonably attractive 59 year old woman and noticed her location was one-tenth of a mile from me.  Using the Tinder text messaging feature I told her where I was and with my directions and landmarks she arrived within 15 minutes sipping on a Rum Runner.  Engaging me in what quickly turned into dirty talk and subsequent high school make out and groping session, it was crystal clear where this was going.

We danced to a few songs then around 2 am and without saying anything to our hosts we ditched the crowd and walked a block up the road to a Quality Inn.  They had one room available and of course raped me at $309.00! The clerk sized it up pretty quickly and wouldn’t come off the price.  So I gladly paid it not only to get lucky, but more importantly to actually have a bed to myself.

We had what could only be described as drunken sex immediately followed by deep snoring.  When I awoke about 10 am Pam had already let herself out without a note or kiss goodbye…but that’s the idea behind Tinder.  I lay there for another 30 minutes basking in my alone-ness before I showered and dried myself with clean dry towels instead of a damp used washcloth!  Heaven!!!

I hadn’t seen my hosts & family for 5 years.  I love the Grizwald’s and the time spent with them and committed to go back at the end of this year’s football season to catch number 3 son as he’s a highly recruited QB for one of Florida’s top high school teams.  They will no doubt be involved in the state championship series.

Whenever I hang with the Grizwald’s it usually takes a little while to put it all in perspective and realize I really did have a great time!  Knowing how this works now, my next visit will include a female masseuse and private sleeping accommodations!


BAGWAN EXPLAINS ST JOSEPH’S DAY……zuki says drinking needs no explanation

Just Joe's personal altar

Just Joe’s personal altar

Good Morning Magniloquent Revelers,

As he often does, our very own Bagwan in his typical pedantic fashion felt the need to dwell among we the unwashed to prevent further embarrassment.  We owe him much for his tireless pursuit of truth & light thus nurturing the uncouth, both  in manners and procedures.  He felt it important to ensure continuity on the upcoming holidays.  Please take a look and if possible read his illustrative decantation and enjoy:


There are two big holidays coming up this week, St. Patrick’s Day on March 17 and St. Joseph’s Day on March 19. I am guessing that all of our readers know what they are supposed to do on St Patrick’s Day but maybe are a little less sure of how to celebrate the Feast of St. Joseph. Well that is why we are here, to make sure you never miss a chance to celebrate and more importantly to celebrate appropriately.

Just to review the symbols of St. Patrick’s Day still include shamrocks, green beer (with subsequent green bowel movements), vomit and sobriety check points. I first started celebrating St. Paddy’s over 40 years ago in my 20’s at a place here in Denver called Duffy’s Shamrock Bar. Duffy was long gone by then and the place was run by a couple of “Irishmen” suspiciously named Lombardi. My friends and I used to arrive before 8:00 am in order to beat the crowd. It is hard to describe the raucous nature of this event but it got so raucous that the Lombardi’s quit opening at all on St. Patrick’s. I guess I decided that was a sign from God and I gave up too. It had just become one of those days when people try too hard to have fun, not to mention it had become one of those days when the local police went out in force looking for those people. For old time’s sake I did have Brian over at the Sporting News pour a little green food dye in my Chardonnay last year.

The lesser known event is St. Joseph’s day or the Feast of St. Joseph. Of course Just Joe gets very excited for this day, not just because of his name sake but because the celebration is built around food. I have copied and pasted the history here:

During a famine in Sicily, when food was scarce and many people were starving, the poor people had only their faith to rely on. St. Joseph was known as the protector of the Holy Family and Italians had strong family relationships, so they prayed for St. Joseph to intercede for them so they could have successful crops. Their prayers were answered, and the famine came to an end. In gratitude, people promised to make annual offerings of their most precious possession – food – in St. Joseph’s honor.

Today, the faithful erect “St. Joseph Tables,” which are set to honor St. Joseph. They are filled with beautiful and often elaborate foods, including meatless dishes such as stuffed artichokes, pasta and fish, as well as breads, cookies, pastries, cakes and other delicacies. Each table is blessed by a priest and presided over by a statue of St. Joseph. A stalk of lily blossoms, votive candles and a lace tablecloth are other typical items used to decorate the feast table.

When you visit a St. Joseph’s table, you often receive gifts of fava beans and breads. Fava beans play an integral part of the celebration because this was the food that saved the Sicilians from starvation. The bean is said to bring good luck, and it is believed that if the St. Joseph’s bread is kept in the home, the family will never starve.

Many Sicilian immigrants (including my own grandfather) entered this country through New Orleans and as a result the city really goes all out for its St. Joseph’s Day celebration including a parade. You combine that with the fact that every day in New Orleans looks like a St. Paddy’s day celebration and it becomes obvious that if you are feeling like a party, that would be the place.

I doubt these two events are going to alter much around Curmudgeon Corner.  They aren’t going to drink any more on St. Patrick’s than they usually do because no one can drink more than they usually do. As far as St. Joe’s goes, good luck finding one of those tables set up around Littlewood.

Oh well, it’s unlikely that all the fava beans and shamrocks in the world are going to change the luck of that crowd.