Dear Nanabanana~Sex, Lies and Bad Ideas!

Things aren't going too well for our new shrink Dr. Goanz. She tried to make a few changes around here and met with, shall we say, a little resistance. She decided that all our activities should be scheduled and timed in compliance with her new Patient Programs. Maybe she thought it would benefit our mental health. So we super glued the lock to her office while she was in there watching Honey Boo Boo on her lap top. The chefs seemed to think it was pretty funny and found other things to do for a few hours while she pounded on the door. It's been pretty obvious that they don't like marching us through Craft Hour, Music Hour, Yoga Hour and etc. When she got out she tried to 'sanction' us by denying us access to TV and the web. That didn't work out either, because Bennie, (as Houdini, of course) made her car disappear from the parking lot. She still hasn't found it and it's been over a week now. Yesterday she tried to convince Monty that his baboon is imaginary, which is why he bit her. This morning she walked in on Phyllis and Roy while they were doing the wild thing in the craft room and they went all Jackson Pollock on her. She should sell that outfit at auction. It might be worth something.

That's all the news here and now. We're planning our annual Labor Day festivities. The ladies will all go into spontaneous labor while the guys groan with sympathetic labor pains. We have rubber baby dolls, ketchup and everything! Feeney wants to be the obstetrician, but everybody knows he just wants to get his hands between the ladies' thighs. That's OK. It's all for fun anyway.

Now, here's the latest Dear Nanabanana!
 ______________________________________________

Dear Nanabanana,

I don't know where to start, except maybe at the finish. It's all finished. My wife divorced me BEHIND MY BACK! Have you ever heard of THAT? She had the summons mailed and pulled it out of the mailbox before I could read it. Then she went to court and because I wasn't there she won by default! She told me she was going to go help her sick mother for a month. Then I got a subpoena for unpaid spousal support, which is when I found out I was divorced!
As you can imagine, I'm crushed. I thought we had a good marriage. I dug through her emails and found out she's got a lover named Raul. They're down in Belize. My brother is a lawyer and he says I can get the ruling thrown out. I've been staying at his place to prepare for court and keep from drinking myself to death. See, I can reverse the original ruling and get out of spousal support, but we'll still be divorced and she's STILL going to get half of everything!
I can't get my mind off this whole mess. I'm haunted, horrified and flippin' PISSED!
What can I do? I want revenge but the jointly owned properties are already on record so I can't just take off with the liquid assets. Why should that scheming SLUT get a G-damed DIME? Got any ideas? How do I show her how I feel without ripping her C-sucking head off?

Signed,
Royally Screwed
 _____________________________________________

Dear Royally,

Wow. I mean, WOW. This a totally new one for me! I never knew it was even possible to have a secret divorce or I would have done it to a few of my own husbands! Now, I've heard of people selling cars for a dollar to low ball a cash settlement, but I don't know how you can keep your sleazy spouse from collecting. And who gets the house? You'll have to sell it or one of you gets half the value and the other lives in it. I smell a battle of the legal beagles in the offing!
Since she's out of town you could do a few token gestures like burning her clothes or engaging in a bit of creative graffiti. Going a little nuts is almost traditional during the divorce process. I got to one of my husbands by slipping a couple of Quaaludes into his Mad Dog 20 20. Then I buried him in the back yard up to his neck. I can't really recommend that, though. By morning the raccoons had chewed off his ears and I had to split for another state.
You have all my sympathy and I hope you find a way to express your feelings. The kind of betrayal you've suffered demands action! Be sure to vent your emotions in a way that is unmistakable. She should be punished in SOME sort of way! Don't let her get away with it!

Your friend,
Nanabanana
______________________________________________

Yup. He got creative.


Divorced Man Enacts Revenge
August 29, 2013
Writer Dean Withers

In a bizarre act of revenge Mr. Hatch Fonderlass dropped a large tree on his own house to prevent his wife from living there after their divorce. "He was very methodical about it", stated Officer M. Glint. "He brought in the bulldozer to tear up the driveway, but we got there first." Neighbors alerted police to Mr. Fonderlass's activities when they heard the crash. "My Lord!" exclaimed Mrs. Fiona Pentwhistle, "I thought it was the Communists!" Police had Mr. Fonderlass under arrest for creating a public hazard when a voice was heard coming from the second story. A man was screaming incoherently. 

Fire and emergency workers pulled a bloodied man through the broken roof. He was revealed to be Mr. Raul Spinoza and workers discovered Mrs. Arlene Fonderlass pinned beneath the felled tree. She was pronounced dead at the scene. As police put Mr. Fonderlass in the squad car, he was heard laughing and shouting, "You should have stayed in Belize, you F'ing C**T! 

Mr. Fonderlass has been charged with first degree murder. 

   Photographed in the act by a neighbor, Mr. Fonderlass fells the tree before police arrive.

  

If Weiner Would Talk!

OK. I have a good excuse for being AWOL from the blogging empire this time. Dr. Idiot died! The chefs won't tell us how, but we think maybe he fell down the elevator shaft when Duds was playing with the buttons. So the elevator has a new lock on it, but Bennie's already figured it out. (Nobody's planning to visit the basement though. We think that's where they buried him.) The doctor's sad end was a great excuse to scream, giggle and generally act even crazier than usual, but we were all restricted to our rooms and the dining hall and they changed the computer sign-on password . (I felt pretty dumb when I figured out it was 'doctordeath'.) We held a charming New Orleans style funeral, crying, slowly marching down the halls and playing St. James Infirmary Blues on imaginary instruments. Then we all danced and played When the Saints Come Marching In on imaginary instruments. We waved paper napkins to keep the flies off the imaginary coffin.

It's not that we aren't sad to lose Dr. Idiot, after all, he was pretty nice as shrinks go. Now we have a lady shrink who looks a lot like Kathy Bates when she was in Misery, only scarier. (Rumor has it she wears a Nazi uniform when she's alone in her office.) Her name is Dr. Goanz, which makes for a few good jokes. "Where's she Goanz" or "She's Goanz crazy too". But we giggle quietly because she doesn't smile very much. So things have been pretty quiet. We've been getting a lot of comfort food, like mashed potatoes and jello. It's always comforting to fling that stuff around, PLUS somebody decided it would be a good idea to bring in visiting pets to make us feel better. The dogs were a little scared of us, but the cats didn't give a crap who was petting them. The only problem was when Rita started stuffing bunnies down her pants, although the bunnies didn't seem to mind. Bet the visiting pets won't be visiting again. Oh, and Feeney got sent to the mop closet because he was WAY too pissed off when he found out he wouldn't inherit Dr. Idiot's inflatable sex doll.  

So today I finally hit the web and got caught up on the news. I see Dr. Sanjay Gupta has decided that marijuana is pretty much a good thing, and he did a whole show about it. I always figured he was a pot head anyway, so, no big surprise. Then there's the story about Dr. Farid Fata, who made a ton of money treating people for diseases they didn't even have. Now he's in jail instead of that great big mansion of his. It's kind of ironic, because if he'd just put his patients on weed, he'd still be stinking rich and nobody would be mad at him. Medicinal weed is legal in Michigan and he could have gone on TV with Dr. Gupta.   

Of course, I was most intrigued by the latest news about Anthony Weiner. Here he is, running for mayor of New York, and it turns out he's been twittering around again. This raises more than a few questions. Like, why the name 'Carlos Danger'? Anybody who takes one look at him is going to figure out he's not Hispanic. (Not that I'm disrespecting Hispanic penises.) Second, why doesn't he just tweet his wife? That could be kind of kinky, especially if he isn't really sure it's her. (There's a wealth of porno she could use to fake him out.) But most importantly, does this latest excursion to the twittering nest of chicks with too much time on their tails hurt or benefit his run for mayor?

Ah, there's the rub, as Shakespeare would say. A lot of other people are saying that too. Last time, he was all contrite, promised not to do it anymore and fluttered away for a whole year. Now, journalists are asking, "are you done now?" and "was it good for you?" But here's the most interesting aspect of the story. Anthony is tired of talking about it. Now, we have to believe he's not actually bored with tweeting his wiener. All evidence indicates he isn't. So why is he deflecting questions about his flighty wiener?

Think! There's a dynamic at work here and it isn't that hard to figure out. We're talking about New York City, folks! Before Disney invaded Times Square, there were more perverts in plain view than are now winging their way through the Twitosphere. Anthony's rookery of fellow twits are chirping with delight and if they vote, he's going to be in the Mayor's office faster than he can clench his jaw and clutch his throbbing manhood. Ignore the polls! That 80% disapproval rating only reflects how many people won't admit they do the same thing! His coy refusal to discuss his photogenic wiener will only serve to keep him in the news as everyone waits, frantic for the next Weiner Twitterfest. It's the ultimate news bait! So Anthony rolls his eyes and says it's old news, not worth talking about, while the amorous news hounds feel their ratings shrink in frustration.

But no doubt, just before the campaign comes to a frothy climax, Anthony's wiener will once again, like the Phoenix, raise it's head in triumph. Because, let's face it, the world can never get enough wiener.
  

Rick Perry Knows the Why and How!

  Hi 'ya all!  Did the ol' in and out the mop closet again!  I admit, it really was my fault this time.  Angus and I wanted to get out for some fresh air and we went a bit far.  All the way to Bob Evans, in fact.  Why is that such a big deal anyway?  We just wanted some biscuits and gravy and you can't get it any better than at Bob Evans.  So we picked the lock on the elevator, slipped out the service bay and climbed the fence.

  Once we got to Bob Evans and put in our orders we figured we were doing OK.  The waitress was a bit snotty though.  You'd think she'd have learned to be polite by the time she hit her seventies!  Other than that, we were having a great time.  Angus can stick a spoon on his nose and it doesn't fall off!  I tried and it fell down the front of my jammies, which was pretty funny.  While we were giggling and playing Napkin Parachute the nice old couple sitting next to us started up a conversation.  They wanted to know how we felt about the abortion bill in Texas.  We told them we really didn't give a crap, but I don't think they heard us.  Really now, why should a couple of nuts in Michigan give a crap about anything down in Texas?  Except maybe the biscuits and gravy?

  So the old couple kept nattering about some Texas bill that was going to make women have babies whether they wanted to or not.  I got pretty confused.  I mean, how do you make a woman have a baby?  Isn't that kind of impossible?  Then they gave me the name of a website where I could read all about the Holy Mission to make women have babies.  That's when Dr. Idiot and the chefs showed up with the syringes.  Guess that rude waitress dropped a dime on us.  Oh well.  We were going to dine and dash anyway.  When I got out of the mop closet I drank about a gallon of coffee.  Then I told Dr. Idiot that I'd tell everybody about his inflatable sex doll if he didn't let me use the computer.  So here I am.  I looked up that website and sure enough, there was a dandy article on the aforementioned subject.  Here it is.

 Texas Gov. Rick Perry Has All the Answers
           

 Texas Gov. Rick Perry shows the gals how ta start the baby makin' process. Too bad none of the guys would help him show how ta finish it!


Sometime in June, 2014 
by Mary T. Virginia @moonbattery.com

  So we got hold of Gov. Rick Perry an' he had lots ta say! Like how those Godless feminist sluts in his beautiful state of Texas were tryin' ta tell him what ta do! That's pure stupid! Gov. Perry is a lot smarter than they are an' he's runnin' the state so they should just shut up! So we said, whadda ya got ta say, Gov.?

Me: So, whadda ya got ta say, Gov.?

Him: I got alot ta say about that stupid slut Wendy what's her MAIDEN name with the kid born oudda wedlock! Bitch took up a buncha time runnin' her mouth right there in the Texas buildin' where they do laws when I TOLD 'em ta pass that bill thing! An' she brought a buncha SLUTS with her!

Me: That's pretty darn stupid!

Him: Yup. But I'll make 'em go home an' we'll be stoppin' those baby killin' whore clinics! You'll see! I'm gonna make 'em have those babies!

Me: Darn tootin'! How ya gonna do that?

Him: Don't matter. We're runnin' shorta soldiers ta fight for the Lord an' the United States! How we gonna keep spreadin' democracy? We gotta grow us some new soldiers! How we gonna do that without fresh babies? How we gonna send those soldiers ta die who the heck knows where without babies! So those stupid sluts gotta start spittin' out some babies an' I mean NOW! If they need LESSONS I'm the guy ta show 'em HOW! 

(Look at that photo up there! He ain't kiddin'!)

Me: Gee you're smart Gov.!

Him: That's how come I took over Texas. Next I figger I'll take over the White House. Then we can send our soldiers ta North Korea an' Iran. Ya gotta watch it with those Godless places 'cuz they know all about baby makin'! I'll keep those stupid sluts doin' their duty. I'll hook 'em up with our heros in uniform. We're sure ta get good soldiers out of 'em then! Ya know what they say, breedin' is everything! Just like with cattle.   

   
     

Dear Nanabanana: Unalienable Rights!

Hi everybody! I know I've been gone awhile because Roy said I missed out on two Crazy Chili Thursdays. That's too bad, because I like to put a soft taco in my mouth and pretend I'm Donald Duck. The good thing is, I've been enjoying a long episode of delusional fantasy that will keep me smiling for at least a month. First, I went to London to visit the Queen. I didn't get to talk to her though. She was busy with a war crimes trial against G. W. Bush and Dick Cheney. They were crying and squirming around in a vat of Jello. That makes sense at least. I love Jello. I thought Parliament would have been trying the defendants, but the Queen was very efficient about the whole thing. She shouted, "Off with their heads!" (as I expected) then William and Kate came at them with machetes and made quick work of the sentence. The British are so much more sensible about these things, even if it makes a big mess in the throne room.

Next, I found myself in Congress during a paint ball game. Boehner was standing on his desk with his pants down. He spread his cheeks and said, "Try and hit this you Communists!" They did. In fact, so many hit the bull's eye that paint was shooting out his nose. Nancy Pelosi had the best aim, even though she's for gun control. Paul Ryan was running around screaming, "Filibuster! Filibuster!" but it didn't do any good. Harry Reid hit him with yellow paint that must have had nails in it. Ryan was pinned to the wall. There were some Democrats who got nailed too, like Anthony Wiener. He doesn't even work there anymore but he uses the showers. He was hit so hard he wound up in the balcony. The crowd cheered! Then they ate him. What else could he expect with a name like Wiener?

It got too hard to tell who was winning so I went outside. There were lots of people building guillotines and yelling, but I don't think they were French. They had Rush Limbaugh trussed up like a capon and he didn't stop screaming until they chopped his head off. Can't remember much else, except for the sailboat race in that pond in front of the Washington Monument. Vladimir Putin won, probably because he wasn't wearing a shirt. The President pursed his lips so I knew he was really mad! 

Delusional fun! Now, here's the latest issue of Dear Nanabanana.

______________________________________

Dear Nanabanana;

I'm pretty darn tired of paying for insurance and never getting anything. I never have a car wreck, so no new car. I never get sick, so I'm paying on health insurance for nothing. I'll never see any cash from my life insurance and that REALLY ticks me off. My wife spends enough of my money already. I did file a claim on the house once. My neighbor hates my guts so he busted out all the 1st floor windows. I got new windows. Big deal.

Well, the other day I found paper work on a policy I forgot all about. It's a death and dismemberment policy and it's pretty neat. You get money for parts of you that get chopped off. The bigger the part, the bigger the payoff. A little cash for fingers and toes, more for hands, more for arms, etc. Heck, my right foot has a big bunion so I could live without that. I could ice it up and take it off with a chop saw. It's pretty tempting.
Now, the really interesting thing is, I can't find any reference to deliberate loss of body parts in the policy. Not even in the fine print. Maybe that's in recognition of my unalienable right to amputate something if I want.

The Declaration of Independence says I have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I figure that about covers it, even if the insurance company tries to fight me. What do you think?

Thanks,
Real American

______________________________________

Dear Real,

You're absolutely right about the Declaration. We have those rights as Americans and nobody can take them away! Heaven help any insurance company that tries taking away your right to chop off a body part! No doubt there's millions of lawyers who'd drool at the chance to represent you in a lawsuit! You might, however, want to have the chopping done by a professional chopper. Some pain killer would be good and you could donate your body part to some poor soul who's missing one. Maybe one of our heroes who had something blown off in Afghanistan. Wouldn't that be patriotic! Someone who got hit at the Boston Marathon would probably be thrilled to get a replacement part. It's all up to you. Sure hope you'll get back to me. I'll be wondering how it all turns out.

Your friend,
Nanabanana

_______________________________________

Here's how it turned out...

Rights and Claims  

June 13, 2013
Bob Hoggett, for the Freedom Chime

Recently, an event in Burgertown came to light, raising questions about our rights as Americans. A dismemberment claim was filed with the Dipsom Insurance Company for the loss of a policy holder's leg. Interestingly, Mr. Theodore Hosenfrost lost his leg because he removed it himself. When Dipsom denied the claim, the ACLU was called in to protect the man's right to amputate his own leg. Lawyers of the opposing parties expect a protracted battle.

"It's a question of rights afforded to all Americans," said ACLU attorney Walter Carp. "Dipsom will have to come up with some legitimate argument that over arches the Declaration of Independence. So far, they've shown nothing in their policy that has that power." Representatives for Dipsom have declined to comment. 

When reached for comment, Mrs. Bee Hosenfrost had much to say, most of which was unprintable. "I can't tell you how mad I am!" said Mrs. Hosenfrost. "Look a the mess we're in now, not to mention the mess he left in the garage!"

Mr. Hosenfrost was found in his garage by his son Harold Hosenfrost. The senior Hosenfrost was lying in a pool of blood, a Saws All in one hand and a cell phone in the other. The cell phone's battery had no charge. Mr. Hosenfrost had no pulse. 

   



 







         

Dear Nanabanana Follow Up!

Oh my GOODNESS! We've got a few bullies here who are VERY sorry they messed with Phyllis! First of all, they were deprived of their little fish crackers. Next, a little shampoo on the shower stall floors resulted in a slippery boom boom on their bottoms. But best of all, someone who will remain nameless, (me) got hold of some hot Chili pepper and sprinkled it in their underpants while they were busy trying to get up from the shower floor. We made sure Phyllis got to see them doing a high speed Chicken Dance while they screamed for mama. I think that should be enough to influence their future behavior. When the chefs asked what was up, we just told them that Monty's imaginary baboon did it. Not sure they bought that story. Too bad you can't pull those kind of stunts in the outside world without the probability of winding up in jail. If you get caught, that is. Thankfully, the insane have a lot more latitude in the naughty department. But you knew that already, didn't you.

Other than that, things have been basically normal around here, by our standards anyway. Memorial Day was a hoot. Hot dogs, beans, potato salad and watermelons have great aerodynamic properties. Of course, a few people couldn't resist doing things with hot dogs that got them sent to their rooms, so they missed out on the ice cream. Not me! I learned that lesson the hard way last year! Our veterans, Earl, Roy, and Angus, got extra helpings, salutes and lots of hugs and kisses. They were gong to use the watermelons like bombs to reenact their favorite battles, but they ate too much and fell asleep on the buffet table. We managed to toss a few anyway. Don't watermelons make a lovely splat!

Here's the follow up on Edgar the skeleton! Isn't it amazing the affect he's had on Dina's life! He's really brought her out of her shell!

___________________________________________

Regarding Edgar

May 30, 2013
Frederick Bimmel for the Kinnybunkton Patriot


Our readers will recognize the name Dina Grimdust. Ms. Grimdust appeared at the Yummy Yum Cafe' earlier this May with a skeleton she referred to as Edgar. Efforts by authorities to identify the skeleton included a visit to Ms. Grimdust's home and produced a surprising discovery. Within the attic recess where the skeleton had been stored a diary was found. Packed beneath cedar chips, presumably used to mask the odor of decomposition, the diary made short work of the investigation. The diary, dated 1919 and authored by Mrs. Fiona Pincrest, made reference to the man who wound up in her attic. If that weren't bizarre enough, the diary revealed that Ms. Grimdust has named the skeleton correctly. Excerpt below:

"Oh give me my darling Edgar! I have gone against God to be his lover! My shame is my glory! As I lay beside my husband each night I can only think of Edgar sleeping in the barn loft! Such a humble bed for the man I truly love! It takes all my restraint not to rush out of the house and join him! I am consumed with sinful longing for his touch, his kiss, his manly passion! How can I continue this charade while I live with the knowledge that I carry his child?"

The diary goes on to give some graphic details unsuitable for print. It concludes with an entry stating that Mrs. Pincrest suspected her husband, Mr. Thornton Pincrest, was aware of her affair. Given the dates, the child Mrs. Pincrest mentioned would have been her first born son, Sheldon Pincrest, who was the father of our own mayor, Thornton Pincrest II. 

"You just never know, do you," remarked coroner Martin Bugthistle. "We can't find any mention of an Edgar in the census or church records from those days, but we sure as hell know what he was up to!" Under the circumstances, it's unlikely that Edgar will ever be positively identified. Authorities have concluded that he was a wandering farmhand, a common occupation in those days. Most likely, Mr. Pincrest found the diary and dispatched Edgar out of righteous anger over his wife's illegitimate child.

When shown the diary, Mayor Pincrest was naturally shocked, but somewhat pleased.
"What do you know. Grandma was a real spicy lady!" he remarked. "Of course, I knew my grand parents were prominent and where they lived, but who'd guess that my dad was a bastard!" The mayor was more than willing to leave the skeleton of his true grandfather with Ms. Grimdust but kept the diary, "for the family archives". 

It's hoped that this article will serve as notice that Ms. Grimdust and Edgar will continue their relationship. Students of the Kinybunkton Community College, who have been picketing the mayor's office daily, may now direct their interests elsewhere. A visit to Ms. Grimdust's home found her on the back porch with Edgar, enjoying the fine spring weather on her glider. Edgar was appropriately dressed in blue jean overalls and bandanna head dress. 

"I'm so relieved that the controversy has ended so quickly," Ms. Grimdust said. "We've had many visitors since it all started and made new friends.  We're so happy that Edgar has relatives in town! I think the mayor looks quite a lot like Edgar! Next week we're going over to the Community College so the kids can see all the knife marks on Edgar's ribs. It all just goes to show how appealing a guy can be, whether he's alive or not."

                
 Art by Abril Andrade Griffith
 


 

Dear Nanabanana X4!

Well! I never thought any of my buddies here at the maximum security psychiatric facility could be so CRUEL! Yesterday Duds and I walked into the craft room and a few of the guys (who I'll leave nameless) were harassing Phyllis! They were telling her the North Koreans were coming for her! So, of course, she was hiding behind an easel, crying and trying to shoot at North Koreans with a tube of acrylic paint. (The craft room needed more color anyway.) Where are the chefs when you need them!

So Duds and I went into action. We quickly wadded up some balls of clay and let 'em fly! Ever get hit in the head with a wad of clay? You wouldn't like it. Neither did the bullies. There was some hollering and then they ran from the room. The noise attracted people from the dining hall, so we got a good round of applause. Then Duds and I helped Phyllis come back to reality, which was a trick for her. She's only been on meds for a few weeks. The last thing her nerves needed was a dose of stress.

Everybody that wasn't a bully gathered around Phyllis in support and the bullies found themselves the objects of social rejection. That's likely to last awhile. There's a few rules here and they broke one BIG time. It's fine to join in on a delusion if the person who's delusional enjoys it. If you're contributing to somebody's pain it's entirely unacceptable. The whole episode put my brain into a high geared spin. I thought of all the attention bullying is getting in the press and how bullying plays into other social issues. Then, I remembered this letter I got last week. The backlash was almost immediate, so I've included that here too.

___________________________________________

Dear Nanabanana,

I've always been a quiet, unassuming person. I'm a middle aged, single woman with no family and I'm very shy. Even at my job in the cardboard box factory I hardly ever talk to anybody. A few years ago I bought an old farmhouse in a small town in Massachusetts. Last year I decided to add some insulation in the attic. I pulled up the floor boards and discovered that a skeleton was packed beneath them! I pulled him out, wired up his loose parts and set him on the sofa in the parlor. In almost no time I was talking to him. Since he's even quieter than I am, he makes good company. I decided to name him Edgar and he sits with me at supper, watches TV with me and rests with me on my glider in the screened porch out back.

While I realize this is an odd relationship I can't imagine why anyone would object. Then there's our human rights to consider. Don't we have a right to be friends even if people don't agree? Still, I'm wary of taking him out in public. It would be great to take him to the movies or a nice cafe' but I fear the attention it might bring us. He doesn't complain but it seems cruel to keep him in the house all the time. Edgar and I would appreciate any thoughts or ideas you might have regarding live/dead relationships.

Thank you,
Friendly Bones

___________________________________________

Dear Friendly,

I assume you and Edgar aren't having sex, since he's missing a few important parts. As far as I know the only laws against your relationship pertain to sex between live and dead people (necrophilia). Other objections are just artificial social conventions and hardly worth mentioning. It does remind me of the struggle gay people face when they want to get married. I've never understood why straight people are so cruel to gay people. If you're feeling brave enough to take Edgar out, why not? The worst that can happen is a tangle with the authorities. If you have the courage, you could strike a blow for live/dead relations!

My only word of caution is; get a lawyer. Sorry to say, my advice tends to result in people being jailed or declared insane, so think hard before you act. Also, keep in mind that the rest of society is going to be against you. It takes a lot of backbone to stand up against that. (No joke intended.) So make the decision that's best for you two, and enjoy your friendship. It's hard to find true friends, and Edgar sounds like a great guy! He can't walk out on you or drink up your beer! Say Hi for me!

Your friend,
Nanabanana

__________________________________________


So, wouldn't you know, here's the results;

Bony Buddy Gets Attention

May 17, 2013
Fredrick Bimmel for the Kinnybunkton Patriot

Patrons got a shock when Kinnybunkton resident Dina Grimdust took a seat at a sidewalk table of the Yummy Yum Cafe'. Ms. Grimdust wasn't the problem, but her partner was. Ms. Grimdust was accompanied by a skeleton. Owner Bob Button summoned police when Ms. Grimdust refused to remove the skeleton and leave. As police arrived, Kinnybunkton Community College students, who were marching for gay marriage rights at General Skeezer Park across the street, dropped their signs to join Ms. Grimdust in solidarity.

This reporter was down the street and joined the growing crowd while police attempted to detain Ms. Grimdust and take possession of the skeleton. Three lawyers, Attorneys Ruddy,  Weiner, and Coxe, also patrons of the cafe', confronted the bemused police officers on behalf of Ms. Grimdust and her skeleton. As it became known that the skeleton was on her property when Ms. Grimdust purchased it, the three attorneys pointed out that she had every right to claim ownership. When Ms. Grimdust stated that she found the skeleton in her attic, the lawyers agreed that its removal did not constitute grave robbing and it's probable that Ms. Grimdust will only need a permit to keep it. 

Students chanted "Freedom for Skeletons!" as cafe' owner Mr. Button and our local police officers wiped tears of laughter from their eyes. "I can't wait to tell the Chief about this!" declared Officer Walt Teasdale. "I can't wait to tell my wife!" said Officer Dale Featherbalm. Under the circumstances, police decided not to detain Ms. Grimdust, but wrote her a ticket for disturbing the peace. It's expected there will be an investigation into the skeleton's identity and how it got in her attic. Given the aged, yellow coloring of the skeleton and the few years that Ms. Grimdust has owned her property, it seems unlikely that she put it there herself.

With three attorneys proffering their cards, Ms. Grimdust won't lack representation should that prove necessary. As she prepared to leave Ms. Grimdust lifted her skeleton, turned to the crowd and called out, "Edgar is my best friend and nobody is going to separate us!"

The crowd went wild. 


*****************************************************

See this here? Living people and skeletons have been friends for a long time! Not sure how the Saki sucking monkey fits in...
 

 

 

   

    

 





                 

I'm Crazy and I Have a Gun!

Hi everybody!  Hope you all had a fine Cinco de Mayo!  It was wild here at the maximum security psychiatric facility!  We had a swell time with the construction paper making ponchos and sombreros.  We pretended to be Mexicans, shouting, "Fuego!" or  "Dos cerveza por favor!" or "Mi aerodeslizador esta lleno de anguilas!" (which means, 'My hovercraft is full of eels' and doesn't have anything to do with Cinco de Mayo but we like it anyway.)  The tacos and burritos went air borne as usual and the re-fried beans stuck to our faces real well.  Of course, the Mariachi music was playing full blast so it seemed like a good time to put Phyllis through orientation.

Phyllis arrived here on April 1st but wasn't up to socializing for a few days.  It takes awhile to get on meds and become somewhat conscious of reality.  Phyllis got picked up because she was waging her own little war with imaginary people, but using a real shotgun.  By the time they dug her out of her bomb shelter she was a real mess.  So we took great care showing her how to start a food fight, wreck the arts and crafts room and pick the lock on the elevator.  I think she'll fit right in.

That reminds me!  I got a letter from my actual old friend Mary Theresa.  She and I were great pals back in the day and worked together at a mud wrestling establishment.  We liked to hang out at the local biker club and had many a riotous adventure.  One time we went to the roof of the club house and threw shingles at the police when they came to arrest our buddies for whatever stupid excuse they could come up with.  Anyway, I thought you, my faithful readers, would enjoy reading the letter.  Everybody here got a kick out of it.  (We always share our letters.)

Dear Nanabanana,

Long time no shit!  I'm writing from the county jail while the sphincters of authority decide what to do with me.  Guess they didn't like it when I showed up at Governor Ricky Snyder's house.  I took along my AK47 and shot a few rounds in the air while I was yelling, "I'm crazy and I have a gun!"  They didn't even know a crazy people's rights activist when they saw one!
Of course, I'm twisted and I can prove it, so buying a gun was easy.  Gun dealers have no problem selling all the weapons a lunatic wants, since there's no background checks that track us, yet.  Makes it a lot easier to fight the good fight, bringing insanity into the light of day and demanding that 2nd Amendment rights are not withheld from the mentally disturbed.
Well, maybe I should change that to made it a lot easier to fight the good fight, since I've been denied my 2nd Amendment rights already.  Respect runs short for us psychos, doesn't it?  Sure hope you're doing OK.  Maybe I'll get sent to your place and we can form an insane political activists gang!  We, the psychotic, disenfranchised misanthropes gotta stick together!  Here's a photo of me in my glory.  Send me a photo of you if you can.

Stay cool,
Mary Theresa

Now, I didn't see any news on Mary Theresa's story, so I have to wonder if she's not exaggerating a tad.  After all, she really is a nut case.  The only other explanation I can think of is that they kept the story under wraps so more psychos wouldn't stop by to visit the Governor.  I'm betting Mary Theresa will be contacting every wacko she knows to push her agenda and Snyder will be having more guests real soon.  And why not?  Isn't that what democracy is all about?  

 The top photo is Mary Theresa.  The guys here at the facility think the bottom photo is what she ought to look like.  (Perverts.)

Well, that's all for now folks!  Load 'em if you got 'em and buy 'em if you don't.  (Guns, not boobs.)
   

         

Texas Toast

Well don't I feel stupid.  While I've been ranting about the terrorism at the Boston Marathon I overlooked a little issue in Texas.  I only started paying attention because of my nutty buddies.  At dinner of the 26th I was happily brooding about the remaining little twit who bombed Boston when I realized there was a hum of whispers underlying the usual dinner chaos.  I kept hearing low pitched mutters of "Texas Toast" but just thought it was some paranoid observation because we had, in fact, been served Texas Toast with our barbequed chicken strips.  Well, it was a group paranoia event triggered by 'suspicious' Texas Toast.  Fairly understandable since it was founded on a real situation.  I didn't get it until I asked Roy what the heck was going on.  He pointed at his toast and explained, disdainfully, that the toast might blow up because it came from Texas and nobody was going to eat it.  HUH?  We all love our Texas Toast!  So I tried to trace the cause of that remark on TV.  The news was still focused on Boston but there was 60 seconds of coverage on the Texas story that  gave me a point of reference.  

The internet was more obliging and I got a nasty shock when I read about the fertilizer plant explosion.  I was puzzled by my own ignorance until I recognized that the West Texas incident was rather mundane compared to the sensational nature of the bombings in Boston.  Terrorism is much sexier than a little old explosion of known origin.

               
I'd be a lot less shocked if there wasn't such an obvious failure of corporate responsibility and evidence of appalling regulatory incompetence.
 
"It seems this manufacturer was willfully off the grid," Rep. Bennie Thompson, (D-MS), ranking member of the House Committee on Homeland Security, said in a statement. "This facility was known to have chemicals well above the threshold amount to be regulated under the Chemical Facility Anti-Terrorism Standards Act (CFATS), yet we understand that DHS did not even know the plant existed until it blew up."

"Fertilizer plants and depots must report to the DHS when they hold 400 lb (180 kg) or more of the substance. Filings this year with the Texas Department of State Health Services, which weren't shared with DHS, show the plant had 270 tons of it on hand last year." 

WHAT?  Seriously?!  The article goes on to say that 270 tons is 1,350 times the amount that should have triggered an inspection! 

Well isn't that just DANDY.  In what I'd consider a mass shock reaction, the nice folks of West Texas are united in the support of the West Fertilizer Co.  Since the company supplies a lot of jobs for the area it's understandable that there's a well established community loyalty.  This, in spite of the fact that the explosion is the second worst in our country's history.  It's likely that their attitude will change when FEMA steps in and funding is delayed.

Remember Hurricane Sandy?  Remember how Rick Perry remarked that FEMA funds shouldn't be used for the victims?  Remember how pleased he was to have Texas named a target by Kim Jong un?  I'd love to know what's cascading through his shrunken little brain right now.  He wants lots of FEMA money for this disaster, apparently oblivious of the irony.  The conspiracy theories are already in play; Kim Jong un and the feds taking turns being the culprit.  The first lawsuits are rolling in.  Some legal warriors will assign a value on the lives of the 17 dead and numerous victims.  Next we can expect a general collapse of community loyalty as it becomes obvious that the massive loss of property won't be promptly addressed and the jobs are gone.


How will this impact the rest of the country?  Probably very little.  We all like to put such things behind us.  Memories of  the record breaking tornadoes of 2012 and Hurricane Sandy are already fading as new opportunities for morbid fascination crop up.  I'm left to wonder if any 'normal' folks will experience residual unease from the West Texas explosion.  There are lots of fertilizer plants in the USA.  As for me, I'll never feel quite the same about Texas Toast.     
             

Boston Lockdown!

Darn it!  That little 'brain chips' freakout last week put the whole floor in lock down.  We all had to stay in our rooms until Dr. Idiot decided which of us were behaving well enough to get out.  I was sprung the next day because I wasn't freaked out to start with, but I was alone most of the day, which is almost enough to freak me out.  Isn't it weird how footsteps on terrazzo sound when there aren't any other noises?  The TV and computer were still blacked out, so I was pretty itchy for some kind of contact.  I indulged myself by sneaking up on the chefs and screaming, but that's an old trick that doesn't impress them much anymore. When Duds and Rita got out the next day I felt a little better but they were so loopy with head meds that they weren't much company.

The days dragged by while my nutty buddies trickled back into the common rooms a few at a time.  Still, the TV was off and I couldn't get permission to use the computer.  I've already read all the books in the library and crafts leave me cold, since I'm not allowed to melt crayons, so I was getting desperately bored.  Yesterday they finally turned the TV on and opened the computer for use.  Duds and I did rock, paper, scissors and I convinced Duds that I won so I got first crack at getting online.  That's how I found out that there was more than insanity to blame for the media black out, there was horrible news too.  Just as well I didn't hear sooner, because I went from bored to completely FURIOUS.  Jumping up and down, beating on the wall, screaming obscenities, PISSED OFF TO THE EXTREME!  The chefs called Dr. Idiot, but he decided I was behaving normally.  In fact, Dr. Idiot said he was pissed off and all the normal people he knew were pissed off too.  SMALL WONDER!

    
Bombing in Boston.  At the Marathon.  All kinds of people parts flying everywhere and 4 people DEAD.  Here, once again, is a prime example of amateurs playing with explosives and killing people!  For pity's sake!  They couldn't have just blown off their bombs from the roof of a building?  A nice display of pyrotechnics instead of murder?  Then what happens.  The WHOLE CITY is put in lock down, the older homicidal sociopath gets shot and the younger one hides in a boat like a raccoon.  Oooo!  We're SO impressed!  

Message to Monkey Brains: Having fun now Mr. Islamic Jihadist Wannabe?  Enjoying your bullet wounds?  Your misanthrope of a brother is DEAD and you're left to tell everybody how smart you are!  Can't wait to hear all about that!  Did you make Allah happy?  Are you SURE?  Well, I'm betting Allah would say you're a deluded little pimple on the ass of the universe.  Keeping in mind that Allah is a lot smarter than YOU. 

So now we get another noxious dose of ethnic and religious condemnation.  Every Muslim will be getting the stink eye even if they don't come from Chechnya.  Everybody who has a vaguely Russian accent will be under suspicion.  Yeah, that's just GREAT.  Thank goodness the people of Boston all pulled together to help the wounded and chase down these twisted little poster boys for poorly interpreted religious doctrine. I wish the conspiracy theories that prompted this paranoid psychosis could be permanently put on black out.  Yeah, yeah, 1st amendment, blah, blah, blah.  The internet spreads conspiracy theories like whores spread syphilis.  If these guys believed the conspiracy crap that turned them against the USA then what the HELL were they doing here?  Oh, that's right, they wanted to play with explosives and become martyrs to a phantom cause.  Chechnya must be really proud!

***************

Postscript:  Oh wow!  The Junior Jihadist woke up!  Now he's telling the world how he and his dead brother were "self radicalized", which means they spent lots of time on the internet getting misinformed.  

ANOTHER message for Monkey Brains: Now that you'll have plenty of time to play on the internet, you might want to study the actual history of events in Afghanistan and Iraq.  For instance, the US and other countries, such as Israel and China, kicked in billions of dollars to get the Soviets out of Afghanistan in the '80s.  Ever hear of that?  Ever hear that money is STILL flowing into Iraq and Afghanistan to help rebuild?    But don't worry, you'll have lots of time in prison to upgrade your woefully truncated education.  While you're at it, think about those people you've killed or crippled.  Did that even the score?  Do you feel vindicated?  If you wanted to blame somebody, why didn't you blame the guys who made billions of dollars off those wars?  Why didn't you go after them?  Of course, that would have required a lot more courage than you'll ever possess. If there's any justice you'll have a ghost child taunting you every night for the rest of your life.  By the time you're facing your own death you might even figure out what a tool you've been.  I have my doubts, but it could happen.          

Bummer!

Judas Priest!  This weekend is shaping up to be a real circus!  I woke up to the sound of a fracas in the dining hall and got there just in time to see the chefs chasing people around trying to medicate them.  Roy was about the only one I could see who wasn't running around so I asked him what was happening.  He just genuflected and covered his mouth, which told me he was being a nun who took a vow of silence.  Roy never breaks his vows, so I crawled under the table where Monty was to ask what was going on.  He took his thumb out of his mouth long enough to yell, "Brain Chips!"  Then he stuck it up his nose as a visual aide.  Monty's imaginary baboon, who's never delusional, told me what started the fuss.     

Remember those squirrely looking guys who stuck swabs up our noses?  Turns out they weren't looking for jeans, they were looking for genes.  Crazy genes, to be exact.  Like some little gene is going to go psychotic so they'll know which one it is.  Honestly!  Sometimes normal people can be such twits!  Anyway, word came down the grape vine that the nose swabbing gene freaks were coming back to swab noses again.  This news was not greeted with cheers.  It was greeted with screams, the gnashing of teeth and the yanking of hair.  All my psycho buddies, once again, reached the conclusion that they were about to be implanted with brain chips.  Every time things started to calm down somebody would yell, "Brain chips!" and everybody would go nuts again.  The chefs kept trying to tell them it was just a rumor, but you know how that goes.  Rumors are always more believable than the truth.  Just look at Congress.  Any day now C-SPAN is going to air live feed coverage of the entire House full of Congress people running around screaming, "Brain chips! Brain chips!"

Why is it people don't listen when you're only trying to help?  You can see this phenomenon in action all the time.  For instance, the folks who want new gun regulations are NOT trying to take everybody's cap pistols.  They're trying to keep people from getting shot!  HELLO!!  The folks who want gay marriage aren't trying to threaten the fabric of civilization, they're just trying to be nice!  What's wrong with that?  I keep running into this problem too.  I give people advice through my Dear Nanabanana forum and NOBODY LISTENS!  Darn it all!  Why do they ask if they aren't going to listen?  Case in point, see the following:

Pot Party Bust Results In
Felony Charges

by Carl Lingerlong, for Police Beat

In response to a noise abatement call, police arrived at 1298 Tweezer St., to discover a party in progress, with an estimated 60 people on the property, dancing to loud rock music under a heavy haze of pot smoke.  Police called for back up while the party goers scattered, many of whom climbed the 6 foot privacy fence to escape.  Only 6 of the revelers were detained, all of whom were minors too heavily drugged to run.  Cursory examination of the open garage revealed 16 pounds of marijuana, 200 "hits" of LSD and several platters of marijuana laced brownies.

One of the detained minors informed police that the home owner, Mr. Donald Burnbottom, was last seen entering the crawl space beneath his house the previous day.  Police used a remote bomb detonation robot to inspect the crawl space where they discovered a naked Mr. Burnbottom crouching, giggling and singing while coating a Rottweiler in cobwebs.  

A group of neighbors stated that Mrs. Burnbottom and the two Burnbottom children had left town several weeks earlier.  "It's been crazy around here ever since the wife split," remarked Ms. Angel Knitski.  "Don's been such a good neighbor.  It's sad to see him fall apart like this."  Ms. Knitski described the recent activities at the Burnbottom household as "perpetual partying with people running naked all over the place".  Mrs. Burnbottom could not be reached for comment.  The Rottweiler was returned to it's owner who is considering animal abuse charges after discovering that the dog was "very stoned".

The curious lack of any earlier complaints was explained when it became known that nearly all of the subdivision residents were in India, celebrating the Hindu holiday of Holi.  "Nobody likes to see somebody get busted", remarked neighbor Brent Vigorelli.  "We all love to party, but it got way too silly.  I mean, there's limits, even in California."  It took several hours of coaxing before Mr. Burnbottom emerged from beneath his house to be taken into custody. Probable felony charges include distributing drugs to minors, possession with intent to distribute or sell marijuana and LSD, plus lesser charges of burning bonfires and use of fireworks in a residential neighborhood.

Mr. Burnbottom, a mortgage loan officer for Bank of America, will remain in the Hoarfrost County jail under observation until he is able to respond to questioning.

       
A Polaroid instant photo found on the scene shows  
Mr. Burnbottom, center, with unknown guests.