Once upon a time, in a garden approximately 100 feet from where my hiney is sitting, there was a garden that’s still there and food was planted for eating, both human and animal. Wait… just to reassure you, I do not plant humans or animals!! Also, the animals did not eat the humans; but we humans have eaten some animals in our time. We generally eat only their muscles, milk, or eggs. However, some humans are known to eat muscle egg milk and many other animal parts. Those humans have (just now) earned the scientific name anymunchers. Those crinkly individuals eat lots animal pieces-parts that other humans do not consider delicious.

So in this aforementioned garden, I planted chards, beets, parsnips, lettuces, tomatoes, onions, potatoes, garlics, beans, (pop)corns, squashes, and members of the cabbage family: please say hello to Budding Broccoli, Brussels Sprouts, and Tiny Turnips (planted them a bit late), all of whom (along with their kaley cousins) are still in the garden and are very happy to live there even in the dead of winter. All of these items are very delicious indeed. However, chards and beets (both of whom are also in the same family), had to be harvested before the Big Freezes come, because they would otherwise be frozen to death and rendered non-delicious. Well the beet roots might survive a deep freeze (temperatures in the 20s or lower) but the greens, not so good.

And we do love beet greens.

We’ve eaten beet greens raw in the past… they are quite nice when picked very early and added to salad. However, our favorite way to eat beet greens is to simply steam them with about an inch or so of water in the bottom of the pot and blast the heat on high until the steam makes the top of the pot start to dance. The result is a very tender and delicious side vegetable that makes a fantastic addition to just about any warm meal. The other day we had some with some pig muscle (a.k.a. pork) steaks I had marinated and thrown on the grill. Mmmm barbecued, marinated pig muscles with hubbard squash and beet greens! Truly mondiferous! And mondiferous isn’t even a real word! One can get frightened after eating beets. I remember a beet laden meal from days of yore. The following day, while sitting in the bathroom, I arose and (may or may not have) shouted, “OH GOD!!! I’M BLEEDING!!!”

Nope. It was just the beets!

We have a waste not, want not policy here. If we have leftovers, they sit in the fridge for a day or two, sometimes a bit longer but usually less than 8 months. If we decide not to snarf them it’s time to toss them into the freezer. By the way, the only proper way to store leftovers in the freezer is to put them in a container and throw them with great force from a distance of at least 15 feet. Please do not judge us when you come to visit if you see splatter marks here and there from less than successful leftover tossings. Oh, and it’s always best to make sure the freezer compartment door is open before you toss. So umm… yeah, don’t judge from the numerous dents in the freezer compartment door on top of the fridge. The leftover tossing “accidents” give us greatly humorous laughing chuckles with the eyes squinting while we shudder with ha ha convulsions that confuse visitors and also birds who spy us from the outdoor feeder.

Most recently, we placed both some homemade stir fry and some leftover Chinese food in the same freezer container. Well OK, the homemade stir fry went in first, but there was enough room for the left over “Tofu With Vegetable” entree from our local Oriental Gardens cookery. Both sat in the freezer for about 17 weeks (or perhaps only 9 days) and I scratched my head with a rake (or perhaps my fingers) in an effort to decide what to do with this combo. Then I saw what was left of the beet greens. About a cup or so of greens, and maybe two cups of purple water from cooking. I said to myself, “Let’s have some purple soup!!” I removed the container with leftover stir fry / tofu stuff from the freezer, got on top of a chair, and PLOPPED the contents into the pot with the beet greens. Purple juice flew everywhere, ha ha, very humorous chuckling with eyes squinting and convulsive shuddering. The birds were not amused. OK, perhaps we don’t really throw food around like that.

But I tell you what, the purple soup was holy mackerel wow oh my word yum yum delicious!

Here are some interesting cooking methods you might find entertaining.

Ohhh retirement!!  Such a joy!!  My stress level is much lower these days, although for some strange reason my calendar seems to fill up all too fast.  Thought I’d be able to kick back and do whatever I want but no….  And it’s very OK.  Certainly better than the before times while I was working.  One fond memory:  there I was, at work, in the industrial manufacturing stress pile that seemed to grow smellier with each passing hour, no plane, no parachute, and thinking about writing a run-on sentence, with no semi-colons but only commas, and probably grammatically incorrect; but that doesn’t bother me one little bit; oh wait, there are a couple of semi-colons back there.

One day at work, I was heating up my lunch in the nuking machine. My friend Jenise saw the vegetation in my Pyrex bowl and said, “what are you cooking today? Smells really good. ” I smiled and said, “yes, and today I have leaves, roots, and the flesh of a dead chicken.” I explained that I intended to consume asparagus, onions, Swiss chard, and some dead rotisserie chicken meat from Meijer, little sploosh of soy sauce, little floof of thyme. Mmmm-mmm yummy. After I finished the list of goodies, she said, “Oh, I would never eat that.”

At this point she ran screaming through the top floor window while her ’65 Mustang was in flames and all the propane tanks that were strapped to my safety shoes burst into an explosive conflagration causing the air to become very brightly orange but then black with smoke as the rest of the cars in the parking lot exploded one by one and the military came in full force to let the cat into the shower so she could drink off the floor while the Happy Friday Ken Guy wrote yet another run-on sentence with nary a comma or semi-colon to be found within the whole darned thing.

Our Beautiful Kitty, Nevvie (God rest her soul)… she loved to drink off the shower floor! We believe she was addicted to shower water. She lived to be 21 ½ years young and would broop and mee-roouu until one of us turned the shower on for just a bit. Then of course we had to let her know we were OK with her going in there to drink. It was a ritual you see. Shortly after she got her drink, the earth’s crust split open and large steel structures vaulted toward the sky while people were screaming and running for cover and toasters were flying sideways through the violent winds that were generated (of course) by the huge bats that arose from the bowels of the planet and OH MY GOD HERE COMES ANOTHER ONE get down and hide behind this big rock OH NO THE TREE MONSTERS ARE STEALING ALL THE ROCKS those dirty selfish stinkers they wish to protect themselves and who gives a flying mahookey about us, right, we should be grateful the trees are safe and there’s yet another run-on sentence with questionable (at best) grammatical structure.

OK. So, what have we learned from this week’s installment of “Goats On Parade?” Well boys and girls, we’ve learned that some guy who once worked at an explosion factory likes to eat leaves, roots, and dead rotisserie plastic button meat from Sneeb’s grocery in Moopah, Michigan. We could also possibly infer that the author of this week’s installment of “Radio Sandwich Dust Lanterns” is prone to writing run-on sentences. Also, a very likely possibility is that I, the author of this week’s “Happy Burger Filled Sock Drawer” very much enjoys nonsensical rants that have absolutely nothing to do with Stone Age Birthday Parties.

Therefore, I implore all of you: Please, if your job is stressful and ouchy, PLEASE remember that work is what you do for a living; but it does not necessarily have to define who you ARE. In my case, four egg sample, I was very grateful to have a job, but if I allowed the stress consume me I was no good to anyone at all (including myself). Hence, I would remind myself often of how blessed I am.  And I still do that regularly.  And I would find ways to help others smile at work.  I was often known as the person who sent instant messages and / or e-mails to his peers with the following content as an example:

My dustflute sings much better than our dog’s frozen trumpet.

At times, back in the good old days (ha!) I would receive audio from someone’s mouth parts as they asked, “Hey Ken, did you have a stressful week at work?” And of course I would reply, “Does a chicken have lips? Is a frog watertight??” The answer to both of these questions was, of course, 37.

When I got home, I relieved some stress by pulling a few weeds and (unintentionally) eating a few bugs.  It was truly constabulatory!!

Actually I still pull bugs and eat weeds.  But hey, I actually grow nice veggies for eating too!!  Gardening is my work now.  And it’s very good for my soles!

Retirement has given me a bit more time to observe wildlife.  I listen to the trees singing, and I love the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves of the birds.  The following video shows the exact methods our friends in the forest work hard during autumn to prepare for winter.  Please enlighten your friends after learning these amazing rituals.

Dear Tinker Toy Handlers,

This is to inform you that our house is exploding and the bottle rockets have prevented me from listening to the stereo for 13 weeks. I know that you are the ones who forced me into this situation, and I demand immediate constipation. If you do not comply with this request, I shall be coagulated instantly while I sail off to Bermuda with a large tube of toothpaste. No one has the right to tell ME what to wear to the Chicken Festival! So please, before our relationship has been too greatly damaged, change that stinky underwear you have on! You should know by now that the brown and yellow crusties are a clue that wash day is past!

And another thing: every time I sit down, my butt makes contact with another thing! I wonder: how many times has my butt touched another thing without my asking the thing if it wanted to be touched? I’ve also learned that my butt and my brain appear to be  connected. I know this to be true because a) I’ve made some really embarrassing mistakes during my stay on this planet we call Rhubarb, and 19) every time I forget something, I sit down and instantaneous remembering occurs within 7 or 8 millirockens.

Now don’t correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure you cannot be allowed to stay in the country after those things you did with that flyswatter in the restaurant. I mean, people who try to eat soup with a used flyswatter are probably not going to be invited to my burping contest anytime soon. Unruly behavior will be rewarded with gentle slappings about the eyes and shoulders with the standard issue licorice flavored water balloons.

Please remember that the child within you needs to be nurtured,

and only YOU (and your Maker) can do it.

If you ever feel sad or lonely, you can take action on this by paying me some big bucks. I will gladly use the money for disturbance mechanisms which will not allow you to get proper rest. A few weeks of this and you will forget all about that whiny inner child; and you will sport a pleasant, robotic appearance. Another tried and true method of healing the inner self is to shame the heels that find you. In other words, whenever some schmuck tries to mess you up, grin politely and suggest that they eat bark and poop at the moon. They will usually be glad you were honest, and will mumble unintelligible affirmations as they briskly walk away.

Well, as you can see, there is no reason to panic. Nothing is all right here, and the world is coming to an end. Please understand that I have found some very effective ways to deal with the stress that Armageddon brings. Firstly, give yourself the treat of some good all around attention: walk through the mall without clothing on, and smile to all you meet. Second: stop in the restaurant and briskly apply jelly to your ears. Your eyes will get squinty, and you will laugh loudly at the lack of pockets for hankies to wipe it off. Next will come the overpowering urge to charge people extra for car repairs.

Nevermind. That may have been a dumb idea. Just try something else, ok?

If you question my sanity or the validity of any of the aforementioned delinquent parboiled Parthenons, I say to you, “tough beans, Mr. or Ms. Smartenheimer!!” Sheesh!! Being absolutely correct is one of my hobbies, and unless I am mistaken, I have never been totally accurate on any doggoned thing in my whole life!! Fortunately for me, however, I know now that the more I learn the less I know. I learned that… I think. Ya know??

So in silence, I grant you three wishes, none of which will ever come true so forget about it. Don’t push me into something I don’t understand. I have low self-esteem and you know it. I have been taking classes for this, and they told me the best way to talk to people about your problems is to lie about the weather and run away laughing.

Be friendly to all you meet, as you may wish to borrow their used cereal someday. Have a conversation with a foreign car. Sing loudly with a mouthful of spaghetti; you’ll quickly learn who your real friends are. Feed your fish some dust and see how they like it. Try drinking from the toilet, cats do it all the time. Carry fried food in your pocket and offer it to strangers. Lick a telephone pole for fun.

Above all else, please remember: GOD MAKES NO JUNK, SO LOVE THYSELF!! OK?

Thank you for being, it gives me great comfort to know that you are.

Also, thanks in advance for not eating the crayons.

Peace, Love, and AM Radio,

Forvis “Green Tongue” Marbleswapper

a.k.a. “Runs With A Flashlight”

Well, OK, that was weird.  But hey, anyone remember Gumby?  Gumby was also pretty weird!!

Ever have a cold that just didn’t seem to go away? Well I once had one that started on October 13, 2125 at approximately 12:17 PM and lasted for a -9 years and 10 days. Perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration… but seriously folks, that “cold” stuck around way too long. My doze got stubbed up, add it stodded rudding, I coughed and coughed and coughed, and den I had to use up da whole box of tissues every hour; which became rather expensive.

The beautiful woman I live with shocked me after several days of this ordeal when she said, “Honey, your cold is lingering way too long. I think you have a sinus infection.” I’m not sure how she felt qualified to say such things. Just because she’s been a nurse for over 30 years and does in home care for people and knows a lot of stuff about healthcare doesn’t give her the right to make wild accusations about some lousy cold her husband might have.

Does it??

Being the enlightened man that I am, I decided to invent a number of methods that would be certain to bring any so-called “sinus infection” to its knees, so to speak. I thought I’d better pass these on to all of you because I’m sure you are interested in following my exact instructions.

Without any further ado, here are the methods, in order of magnitude.

1) Get an eighteen inch length of surgical tubing and shove it deeply into your nostril. Connect the other end to a faucet using an appropriate adapter. Turn on the water quickly, then off just as quickly. Be certain to turn the faucet completely on during this operation to apply maximum pressure. Repeat on the other nostril, then repeat the entire procedure at 3 hour intervals. This will flush out any germ infested mucus.

After 2 days, if symptoms persist:

R) Continue with the water flush, but after each flush use an ordinary toothbrush to clean each nostril. Be sure to remove any clingons from the bristles after each flushing operation. Discard the clingons in the usual manner: rub them on the underside of the sofa or flick them into an inconspicuous corner.

Still having difficulty? I see… try this:

9) Place a birthday candle inside each nostril. DO NOT LIGHT THE CANDLES!!! Whadda you, crazy??? Sheesh! Hold each candle between thumb and forefinger and apply inward pressure while twirling the candles back and forth. This will lubricate your nasal passages and allow clingons to be more easily removed in steps 1) and R)

Still hab a stubby doze?? OK, one more try:

@*) Request the assistance of a trusted friend or loved one. Hand them a ping pong paddle, have them stand behind you with the paddle held parallel to the back of your head. Have them be ready for “the signal.” Fill a glass with ginger ale and place two drinking straws in the glass. Insert a drinking straw into each nostril. Now you are ready to give “the signal,” at which time your helper should whack the back of your head with the paddle. This will cause an involuntary snorking of ginger ale deep into your sinuses; which will of course fizz out any congestive fluids.

I personally have not tried any of these methods, so once you’ve given them a whirl please report back to me as to their effectiveness.

So… remember that Beautiful Nurse Lady I mentioned earler? The one I’m married to? Well guess what she did?? She said, “Honey, you need to go to the doctor.” Now, we’ve been married for awhile and I’ve learned (too often the hard way) that all goes much better if I follow orders.

I went to the doctor. He said, “you have a sinus infection.” “Oh,” I replied. “What do I need to do?” “I’ll prescribe some antibiotic pills for you,” he answered.

I got the prescription filled for FREE at our local pharmacy!! Is that cool or what??

So I wondered, “what, do I just shove these up my nose???”

Could’ve been worse, Goofy got a bad one…

Hello Marvelgrabbers,

May I be the first one to wish you!! Happy Friday, the world is still flat and all the flaming custard pies are of course!! Round as the day is long, and smothered in onions and dripping with gravy, the happy toast salesman changes his underwear more often than a bread flavored pair of zircon encrusted tweezers!! If any of the sentences in this paragraph are not complete!! Please use the localized amnesia to invigorate the invertebrates!! These superfluously punctuated exclamations not to be endured!!!!!

Now there may be a time when time is short, and at that time, please try either thyming or rhyming, depending on the length of your very own noodle fasteners. There may be hours of whistling ahead of each and every one of us. Just pucker your lips and kiss the lightning bugs before they turn left at that silly USB port over there. I don’t care if they insist upon recharging their hineys!! Don’t they know that bio-luminescence is fortified by part of this delicious breakfast??

Huck. Hucka Hucka! Apply Hucka Hucka fastener jelly each and every midnight on the bread and Holy Cow eat the darned thing before the dogs catch a sniff. I’m sure you all know what happens when sniff fasteners change lanes during a staple storm. In order to avoid the obvious need for renting electric staple removers, I wrongly suggest not using electric stables in the first place. After all, electric stay bulls will merely insight a rye out when Victor, the Prize Bull of Lockawanna County takes a whiz on that electric eel you so cleverly dressed as a butter sniffing clown.

Now I must go. Please don’t ask me to explain any of this. I merely had too many burrito molecules lodged in my sandals during the last 14 episodes of “Melvin The Mailman Makes Marinades.” As I’m sure none of you are aware, this week’s episode finds Melvin licking telephone poles and other small animals in search of that elusive Marinade Holy Moly. I’m sure once he discovers the incorrect ingredients, a very unsatisfactory Mystery Marinade will make even the sleepiest Great Blue Heron stand proudly in the swamp. Then, when his guests sample the finished product, there will be intestinal volcano in epic contortions. All will be delighted to induce vomiting during commercials.

In conclusion my friends, please remember that it’s always better to be you than for you to be me, and although you can count to it, eight is a word.

Please pass the gravy,

Kibble G. Wibnerdort

a.k.a. “Freebert Firesauce”

And now for some audiovisual amusement:

OK, so there I was, outside planting my garden, enjoying the tingly sensation of mosquitoes sucking my blood and gnats chewing off the top layers of my flesh, and most everything that needed to be planted is growing nicely, but HOLY COW July is half gone awreddy and I shoulda got some peas in the ground and maybe some turnips but then I looked in the planting chart in the Old Farmer’s Almanac and it’s OK, it’s OK, it’s gonna be OK; unless of course I continue with this run-on sentence and then it’s maybe not gonna be so OK.

OK?

OK.

So yes, it’s gratifying to have most of my stuff in the ground. Now, those who know me understand that my mind is often wandering into strange territories. So today my mind was fizzing with ideas and I poofed out some “scientific” revelations that, if successful, will revolutionize gardening forever more. The “science” goes thusly:

A- Although I’ve transplanted tomato, pepper, and eggplant seedlings, much of what I plant are seeds (or in the case of potatoes, tubers).

9 – The seeds I plant are often the part of the plant that actually gets eaten during harvest. This goes for potatoes, too, in that although a “seed potato” is planted, one could actually eat it. However, you wouldn’t get any harvest if you ate all the seeds (ha, ha ha).

R) You can plant carrot tops and they will spout leaves and start growing again.  You can also replant celery, but of course you would plant the bottoms.

Therefore and to wit, my scientific infusion shall be proclaimed thusly: one should be able to plant other parts of other things we eat and grow more of them.

Try to keep an open mind here.  If we can regrow foods like celery and carrots, why couldn’t we expand that practice to just about any other food?  So my theory, which of course has to be true because it’s posted here on the interwebs, is that if we plant other food items we should be able to increase our original amount of food things via food-o-synthesis.

One example which seems like a good place to start is Meijer rotisserie chicken. Boy howdy I like that stuff. I’ll start by planting a couple this weekend some time. As with potatoes, the whole chicken would need to be in the ground. I can hardly wait to see what sprouts from this. Other ventures may involve a stick or two of butter, perhaps a block of cheese, and maybe a couple fresh fish.

I’ve also theorized that perhaps non-food objects like a could be planted. For these I’d use the “cuttings” method that is so often a popular way to grow various plants. Some things I’d like to try are: spark plugs (to grow a new engine for my rototiller), radio knobs (should grow a stereo I’m hoping) or perhaps a piece of glass or two for a new type of “cultivated windows.” The possibilities are only limited by the imagination, in my professional opinion. I mentioned these to my friends and was greeted with wide eyed smiles and joyful giggling. I can just tell they are excited for me!!

This weekend, I’ll be planting eggs, bananas, and a vanilla milkshake alongside a few metric socket wrenches and a couple rechargeable flashlights. I’ll let you know at a later date what my success rate is. In the meantime, I hope I don’t have the type of garden problems Mickey Mouse had.

Well here we are on another late Friday night when the grandsons finally made it to our house. Because of Covid and other such nasties, we’ve been staying clear of them whenever they have any cold bugs or sniffles. We’ve learned the hard way that a bug they might have can turn into something more serious for us old farts. Last time we had a happy enjoyment of bronchitis!!

They are both getting older now, so bed time is not so easily achieved as it was in previous years. Rather than be the ogre I summoned them to contribute to Happy Friday!!! with a few random thoughts. I think they were a bit tired from a long day so getting ideas out of their heads was a bit like pulling cheese out of a broken saxophone (or something). Anyway, what follows is a composite of ideas, theirs and mine, in a mixture not at all resembling American Breadsticks And Gravy.

“Hey guys, if you can’t sleep, how about helping me with a few story ideas?” I asked. Silence followed. I waited. As they started talking I started typing.

“I had something,” said Ollie.

“I’m thinking,” Gabe said.

Ollie noticed I was typing every word, and exclaimed, “Papa, what are you doing??” Then an idea that was stirring vanished. “Dang it…!!!” Ollie uttered in desperation. Finally I typed furiously as the spurt of “creative” thoughts emerged.

Herman and Karle were two chickens whose favorite thing to do was eat a cheeseburger stuffed inside a pizza stuffed inside a turkey with butter on it, deep fried and covered in chocolate. “This is the healthiest food in the world, totally,” said Gertrude.

Any other time they weren’t eating this marvenkulous snack, they would be hunting down roadkill. Upon finding roadkill, they would poke it with frogs. The frog would try to hold its nose and would often yell while barfing, “ARGHHH why do you force me to poke these dead possums???” “Be quiet you toad, you are not allowed to complain per our agreement.” “I am not a toad, you overcooked poultry excuse for a human.” the frog bribbled.

When they got bored with poking roadkill with frogs, they would run through the aisles of the local Meijer with a fire extinguisher. Whenever they saw somebody they would hide behind the nearest row of pickle jars and giggle while trying their best to play songs on the fire extinguisher. “This is a brief concert in the key of no fire.” they shouted while giggling into the marshmallow bin.

Upon being discovered, they would yell “FINDERS KEEPERS!!” and run out of the store with the fire extinguishers hidden inside their sneakers.

What would you say to a cat that finally quit smoking?? Does anyone hear my silent motions?? I’m having great difficulty seeing in this small bottle with all the noise in the garage. Tonight the robots will be serving Wild Lego Surprise. Hold the whipped cream on mine please. And please don’t rub it in kale juice like last time. For myself, I have always known that zebra mussels are very yummy in cake. Proving this has not been easy; but when I have friends over for tea and slobberfood they smile sheepishly and say “What’s crunchy?” When I tell them they are snarfing down thousands of little zebra mussels in each bite, they say “O” and excuse themselves out the door very quickly.

Well I hope by now that none of you have learned your lesson. If there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s a bread whistle perched atop an inkjet printer with that smug “ha ha I’m a bread whistle” look. So if you ever come upon a singing centipede during your travels, please call the nearest Yo Ho Da Knee at your earliest inconvenience.

Thank you and please enjoy what follows; unless you’d rather not.

Hello My Fellow Pastrami Crinklers,

This is to inform none of you that all new banana recipes should be turned in to the Front Sniffing Room before 12:47 p.m. on Tuesday, August 72, 19127. This is to ensure the cranial vibration machines will be well coagulated prior to sailing off to Monster Island.

None of you may remember “The Hatchling Song;” the words of which were “stolen” by Gus Parbnackle during the Second Coat Hanger Revolt of 1924.

This enjoyable malady has been renewed during the last 28 microseconds and is now sung to the tune of “Inna Gadda Da Vida”:

Guess who barfed on my shoes today
Do dah, do dah
Hatchlings shouldn’t act this way
Oh do dah day…

Some may proclaim, “hey, that looks like it should be sung to the tune of ‘Camptown Races!!’ ” Well of course those who find that line of dingle berries fuzzy and warm will never be successful at launching pickles with catapults. No, rather they will wander aimlessly over hill and dale; squandering what was left of my 2^nd grade lunch money.

I’d like a refund yesterday or the year before if you please.

If you find it necessary to rekindle the spirit which is found to be both blue and wormy; please run directly to your neighbors and ask them to return the crescent wrench your uncle borrowed shortly before dinner last Wednesday morning. Perhaps they are unaware that even inanimate objects yearn for their homeland; which is exactly why we intend to bury all wrenches back into the iron mines from whence they originated.

In summary, I must remind you not to rub sandpaper inside your mucous membranes. Fortunately, that practice has been abandoned long ago due to the over abundance of spaghetti in water fountains made by Mattel. Additionally, please stop putting duct tape sticky side up on my favorite Loaf Toasting Chair. I’ve been mocked numerous times during my grocery store excursions that followed some nice Loaf Toasting Sessions. If you Are Willing to comply with My Duct Tape Restraint Request (DTRR); I’ll also Be Willing to Cease the Use of Grammatically incorrect CapiTalization (UGIC).

MayBe. If I fEel liKe it. OK MaybE noT.

(FOOP).

Thank you for being who you are. After all, if you weren’t you, you wouldn’t be. That would be very confusing to you now wouldn’t it??

My toes look like morel mushrooms again!!

Happy Bozo Express,

Zibnick G. Amplegrane
a.k.a. “Monty the Moth Rancher”

Without any further ado, here be this week’s cartoon.  Gotta love Betty!!  This one’s from The Internet Archive, so the player’s a bit weird.  After opening, click on the arrows in the bottom right corner to view it full screen.   Below the cartoon is a link to a rather silly song sent to me by a friend… never heard this one before and it shows that Bob Dylan has a sense of humor.