Archive
The Power of Tolerable by Brian Schropp
Brian Schropp is not to be confused with Lankville Daily News columnist Brian Schropp or UFOlogist Brian Schropp.
Please take out your notebooks now and turn to page 26.
In this lesson, you can learn greatness and eventually you may be great.
But that is setting a very high bar. Can you achieve that?
No.
So, strive for being tolerable (turn to page 33).
Tune in to my show “The Power of Tolerable” beginning Tuesday nights at 9PM on Cable Network 152 (Network 27 in the Islands). Complete exercises 5-21 beforehand and have them ready as you watch the show. We will go through each section, lay out a plan of action for each and then you will hand in your notebooks via the special slot on your television (a Danny Madison Vision Marauder HD-Portal TV is required to complete this dispatch). I will grade each section and return them to you within one business day. There are no additional materials to purchase.
Each of us has within him the power to be tolerable. Join me now.
I’ll be by the pond.
Third Volume of Keebaugh Memoirs to be Released Tomorrow
The third volume of Lankville Daily News correspondent Zach Keebaugh’s memoirs will be released tomorrow, sources are confirming.
My Tussle: Book Three: The Spleen of My Heart, a 1,216-page tome covering “Keebaugh’s early high school years” has gotten rave reviews.
“Keebaugh’s third volume is pure raw testimony of youth, it aches with intimacy,” said literary critic Bernard Varrone, Jr. “When Keebaugh writes– “yo, I wanted to pounce on that shit like a hillbilly on a rolling melon” the reader can relate to that in a profound and personal way.”
Keebaugh says that My Tussle: Book Three: The Spleen of My Heart will cover his life from grade 9 to the early part of grade 10.
“Yo, it’s taken me a little longer to drop this one on the public because it was a deeply mysterious point in My Struggle and I had to really wrestle with it, do some personal reflecting by some pools and all, just to get this bad boy down.”
“The book begins with a 150-page rumination on how they made me take 9th grade social studies in this shitty trailer they pulled up on the high school campus. Yo, that was a stone-cold slap in the face and I remember opening the squeaky door to that trailer and the squeak was like somebody saying this is the end of your childhood Keebaugh. It was brutal.”
Keebaugh is already working on volume four.
“The original plan was to drop a tetraology. A big old fuckin’ tet, man. But realistically, this could end up being six or seven volumes, man. Shit, I blew through 1,200 pages on Grade 9 alone.”
My Tussle: Book Three: The Spleen of My Heart has already sold several thousand advance copies and will be available at most Lankville bookshops.
Bumpkiniana
The Lankville Daily News is lusciously delighted beyond measure to present “Bumpkiniana”, a series of Bumpkin tales as recorded by folklorist Otis Nixon.
Earl came 300 miles along the tracks of the Southern Outlands Express to see his sister Tulah who lived above a greengrocer’s. He sang an old bumpkin folk song as he walked:
I’m walking
Yes, I am walking
I’m walking
To see my sister.
When he arrived, Tulah greeted him from the porch. She was wearing a unicorn costume.
“Aww, honey,” Earl said. “You ain’t gonna’ wear that unicorn hat the whole time, are you?”
“Naw, Earl,” Tulah said. “If it bothers you, I don’t need to wear it.”
She removed the helmet with the big papier mache horn to reveal long flowing brown hair.
“Aw, now, see Tulah, you always did have the most beautiful hair. Why, you’re gonna’ have just all kinds of suitors asking after you now that you took that unicorn hat off.”
Tulah blushed.
“I got you something Earl. It’s a present.”
“Aw, now, Tulah, you didn’t need to go and do all that.”
She gave him a box with a big colored bow. Earl removed the top to reveal a giant crushed hat.
“Aw, my God, Tulah. Look at this hat! It’s beautiful!”
“I’m sorry it got crushed, Earl. The man at the hat store was rough with it.”
“It’s beautiful.”
They embraced, sister and brother, for the first time in years.
“You must be hungry Earl. Let’s go over to the train station. There’s a fellow over there that sells franks.”
After dinner, they sat on the porch above the greengrocer’s. A man came out below and screamed for a long time.
“Who’s that devil?” Earl said.
“Aw, he does that all the time,” Tulah said.
They set out awhile.
“Aw, this is a beautiful town you live in, Tulah.”
“I know Earl.”
Earl left the next day. “I gotta’ keep on,” he said.
As he walked away, he sang another old bumpkin folk song:
I went to see my sister
Oh, I went to see my sister
Now, I’m done seeing my sister
And now I’m fixing to walk back home
BREAKING: Balloons Tied to Mailbox to Indicate Party
Some balloons have been tied to a mailbox to indicate a party, sources are confirming.
“Yes, we tied the balloons to our mailbox,” said Northern Forest Region resident Dale (female) Bonds. “We thought it might be a good way for our guests to know that, this, this is where the party is.”
The balloons were tied to the mailbox around 11:00 AM, Northern Region Time.
“There was some confusion on our part,” said Detective Gee-Temple, who passed by the balloons shortly thereafter. “The party was at 1:00 PM (Northern Region Time) but the balloons were out there two hours before. I drove by a few times and then I inquired at the house. That’s when I was told they were for a party.”
“It’s an interesting idea,” Gee-Temple added after a long silence.
The party was held to celebrate the birthday of Bonds’ 95-year old grandmother, Eunice.
“Grandmom had a great time and more people were able to find the party because of those balloons,” stated Bonds.
“I thought they were great,” said attendee and relative Del Bonds. “Until I saw those balloons, I was driving in an endless loop of confusion and increasing terror. It had been hours since I had eaten and I ended up in a derelict parking lot, scared, afraid, hungry, and cold. But then I looked up and I saw the balloons and I thought- why, they must signify something. And I knew that something had to be something celebratory, joyous even. After all, they were balloons on the mailbox. It would have been different if there was something scary tied to the mailbox like kaleidoscopic images of death or a detestable water lizard from another epoch. Thankfully, they were bright, strong, full balloons.”
Bonds says she plans to use the balloons again.
“We have a lot of parties and people really liked the balloons. Yes, I believe we will certainly use them again.”
Ask Catrin

Catrin Lloyd-Bollard is an expert at answering questions.
Dear Ms. Catrin,
I use a gravy ladle to measure out brown sugar. The ladle fits perfectly into a measuring cup and I use the ladle bottom to tamp down the sugar so it’s packed.
The other day a friend saw me doing this and said, “You must be shit-all stupid using a god damn gravy ladle like that.”
I thought I was being really clever but what do you think?
Confused in the Kitchen
Hill Area
Dear Confused,
Once I got locked out on my roof and used a pair of tweezers to pick the lock and get back inside.
Ms. Catrin
Dear Ms. Catrin,
My husband and I were having some marital problems so we went to a counselor. The counselor told us to take an interest in each other’s hobbies. I’ve tried, Ms. Catrin, but it just makes me sick to go down to the dump and shoot at trash.
What should I do?
UNHAPPY IN OUTLANDS
Dear Unhappy,
Murder is usually an effective solution.
Yours truly,
Ms. Catrin
Dear Ms. Catrin,
So, you know, I was standing around the garage getting some tires put on my car and, you know, Gary, who is the mechanic, he kept dropping the tires and they’d roll away into a meadow, so he’d grab some other tires down from the wall and then he’d drop those too and after awhile, I noticed that every time he was dropping the tires, you know, he’d look at me, like, you know, up my skirt and all and now I’m thinking he really likes me.
Should I just, you know, let him keep dropping the tires and see what happens or what? I mean, I kind of have to get back to work, you know, but he is really good looking and he’s greasy which, you know, is kind of hot.
OK,
Gung Ho in the Garage (female)
Mercantile District
Dear Gung Ho,
Things like “work” should never get in the way of a potential romance. Let him keep dropping the tires and see where it goes. Also, if you could write back and let me know how many tires he dropped before anything happened, that would be great. I have a bet with another advice columnist.
With anticipation,
Ms. Catrin
OPINION: I’ve Been Smashed in the Neck by a 2 x 4 Before, I’ll Be Smashed in the Neck by a 2 x 4 Again
TIMELY OPINIONS
Yeah, this here’s a message for that little dipshit that smashed me in the neck with a 2 x 4 yesterday at The Lumber Brouhaha. Guess what, shit for brains? I been crushed in the neck with a 2 x 4 before and I’ll sure as hell be crushed in the neck with a 2 x 4 again.
So, here’s what happened. You remember that sweet deck Dick La Hoyt built last Fall, right? Well, look– Tam thinks it’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. Just the other day, she was all like– “Oh, Dick, lounging around outside takes on a whole new meaning ever since you put up this motherfucker.” I’m flattered by the compliment, I really am, but I gotta’ tell you– to the seasoned eye, I’m starting to see some problems. There’s a little wobble in a couple of the boards and a bit of greying underneath over near one section. Dick La Hoyt don’t like it– not at all and I’ve been sizing up ripping the whole thing out and starting over. Tam’s all like, “OH MY GOD, DICK LA HOYT, there ain’t no reason for that” but I can’t live with it anymore. It’s gotta’ be fixed my way and so with that in mind, I head on down to see my buddy Chris at The Lumber Brouhaha.
Chris and me go way back to the old neighborhood. We used to chase tail back in the day, go on fishing trips and hang out at the old Lingus Nets arena. One time, we both got pretty damn lit and ended up pissing in some guy’s vegetable garden. Needless to say, we both got punched in the mouth. Not the first time and not the last, let me tell you what.
Anyway, Chris showed me some of the new stock they got down at the Brouhaha. Beautiful red oak they just got in and I started thinking maybe that was the way to go.
Well, the next thing you know this little guy comes out of nowhere and pinches my cart. It was a good one too– one of those nice orange ones with the double handles. Sure, I didn’t have nothing on it but it was only a couple of feet from me. This candy ass didn’t even ask or nothing.
“Hey man,” I called out. “That cart is SPOKEN FOR!”
“It don’t got your name on it anywhere,” the guy responded.
That did it. Dick La Hoyt don’t take no shit from anybody at The Lumber Brouhaha. You might as well be coming into my god damn living room and swiping my favorite recliner.
“YOU AND ME, WE’RE TAKING THIS OUTSIDE,” I hollered.
“GLADLY,” he said.
I led him to a little spot I knew of between the Brouhaha and that elegant reception hall or whatever that everybody’s always going on about.
I turned to face him and the next thing I know– BAM! I take a 2 x 4 right in the neck.
Chris was the one that found me.
“Jesus Christ, Dick,” he said. “You got a big ol’ red mark on your neck.”
“WHERE’S THAT HORSES’ ASS?” I called out.
“He put a bunch of lumber on that cart of yours. Paid and walked right out with it. That’s how come I knew to look for you– I knew that was your cart. That’s the one with them double handles.”
“GOD DAMN, RIGHT,” I said. I was having a hell of a time catching my breath.
“Want me to call Tam?” he said.
“Nah, I’ll be alright. Let me just lay here a minute.”
Chris sat with me. Me and him go way back.
Anyway, I just want to make sure that asshead knows that didn’t get one over on ol’ Dick La Hoyt. I been smashed in the neck with a 2 x 4 before and I’ll sure as the sun rises get smashed in the neck again.
The opinions of Dick La Hoyt are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
Royer’s Madcap Experiences: I, River Dick
It was a muddy, debris-choked tributary of a much greater but unseen river. Several greying, dilapidated highway overpasses blotted out the sun. The trees along the banks were dead and gangly. But someone wanted it protected. They decided I was the man.
I, River Dick.
My interview took place in a forlorn trailer, littered with trash. The foreman was decidedly obese– his fat rolls could not be contained by his undersized, cheese-stained sweatshirt. He sat behind an overflowing clothes hamper. I sat on a stool. I suspected he lived here.
“You ever do any river dicking before?”
“Nope.”
“You ever done any carnival work?”
“Once”.
“OK. It’s like that.”
I was hired on the spot and issued a bright yellow pantsuit and a revolver. The first day passed without incident.
On the second day, some droids attempted to fill their pails under the overpass. I confronted them.
“You can’t fill those pails here.”
A long series of computational beeps ensued. One of the droids issued a small, printed-out index card. It read, “CHEESE OFF, HUMAN.”
I didn’t think twice about it. I blew them all away and buried them beneath some rocks.
On the third day, the foreman called me in.
“Did you kill some droids?”
“Yep. You know what– I don’t even feel bad about it.”
“Well, some guys at the lab feel bad about it. And they’re making me feel pretty damn bad about it too.”
“They egged me on. They were asking for it,” I added. “You know it, I know it, they know it.”
“That’s fine,” he said, after a long silence. “We’ll cover it up. Just go back along the banks and make sure the parts are pretty well-hidden.”
I did as I was told. But the parts were gone. The rest of the day passed without incident.
On the fourth day, the foreman called me in again. As I was approaching the trailer, I noticed something odd. There were tracks there, made by rolling droids. They led off towards the woods. There was an overhang there, covered by odd brush that didn’t belong. It was a setup. I was being sacrificed.
I hotwired the foreman’s pickup and headed for Lankville Beach.
I, River Dick.
Samways and Fick: Consultants, the Letter of Recommendation Experts
The letter of recommendation. The hallmark of a successful job application.
Did you know that 98% of letters of recommendation have been scientifically proven to be failures?* But what can you do? You have to ask someone in a position to write one– such as a current or former supervisor, a professor or mentor or a volleyball coach. But what do you do if these people can’t write? Or if they simply don’t have the time? Or if you waited way too long to ask and now they’re out coaching volleyball in some distant Lankville province? What can you do?
Thankfully, Samways and Fick: Consultants have created a “Letters of Recommendations” arm designed to fulfill all of your non-sexual letters of recommendation needs. We now have an entire stable of important-sounding individuals who will tailor a custom letter to fit your desired (non-sexual) position (non-sexual). Our experts will tirelessly refer to the job posting or job description to find your specific skills and knowledge that are included in the letter and are partially-guaranteed to make you a top-flight candidate. Some letters are even written by Dr. Samways and Dr. Fick!**
Body of the Letter
The body of your Samways and Fick Recommendation letter™ will reference your skills, qualities, areas of knowledge and other assets (non sexual) while stressing your vibrant personality, your enhanced people skills and how you look in an off-color pantsuit. Our experts will start by making a list of your strengths which you would like conveyed in your recommendation (limit ten strengths– after, $49.99 per additional strength).
Our experts will then compose sentences which include references that will make these assertions about your assets seem more credible. As these sentences mount they will become paragraphs. The magic of professional writing!
These assets might consist of a project or role where you successfully applied a certain skill. Citing accomplishments where value was added to your organization and describing the strengths which enabled you to generate these results can be particularly compelling. Any trophies or medallions you have won will be mentioned and perhaps photographed for use in our Samways and Fick Recommendation Letter Appendix™ which can be included with your letter for an additional fee.
Letter Closing
The closing of a Samways and Fick Recommendation letter™ is partially-guaranteed to send you out with a bang!
We may elect to mention that we would like to hire you. We might say something like, “if not for those fires that have been ravaging the Lankville Pines Area we would certainly hire [your name here].” We may include a positive statement about our belief that you would be an outstanding addition to any staff. If applicable, we may grade you physically– candidates with an 8 or higher on the dumper tend to fare better than those with a lower score.
At Samways and Fick: Consultants, we don’t believe in trite valedictions. Your letter will not conclude with worn out cliches like “kind regards”, “best wishes”, or “thanks again, what a great time that was.” At S&F, we have an entire stable of distinctive farewells. Everything from “lusciously yours” to “within the realms” and everything in between.
Contact us now.
Samways and Fick: Helping You Reach the Area Near the Top of Your Mountain.
*-See Samways and Fick: 98% of Letters of Recommendation Have Been Scientifically Proven to Be Failures. “The Samways and Fick Journal”, No. 88, p. 265.
**- this is rare.
The Complete Brock Belvedere Death Notices
April 12, 2016
Friends, I’m saddened to report that Brock Belvedere was electrocuted last night. He is currently in Room 065 (basement) at Greater Lankville Plains Less Expensive Hospital. I saw him this morning and he looked as good as could be expected. If you want to send him anything, I remember he once expressed great admiration for balloons, so that might be the best way to go. I’ll keep you posted.
April 13, 2016
An update on our friend Brock Belvedere, who was electrocuted last night.
I went back to see Brock this afternoon but he was not in his room. When I inquired at the darkened nurses’ stand, I was told that Brock had been “misplaced”. “We lost him,” the nurse said. “Sorry.” They hope to find Brock later this evening. Before he was misplaced, the nurse noted that he was feeling slightly better and that he even sat up in bed and drank a big soda.
I hope to have another update for you all in the morning.
April 13, 2016
Friends– an update on dear Brock Belvedere, who was electrocuted two days ago.
First off, Brock has been found!!! He was accidentally thrown away by an over-eager janitor and, fortunately, an intern came upon him, nestled in the bin on top of some discarded food. They cleaned him up and I’m happy to say, placed him in the only available room (which is in the psychiatric bad manners ward on the first floor). I brought Brock some breakfast cake this morning but he was still in a semi-conscious state, so I ended up eating the cake myself. Our dear friend looks better– his skin has a certain sheen that I appreciated but it is still very, very grey. I am hoping that the fluids they are pumping into Brock (strangely, three lines are going into his arms causing some visible swelling) will help him. I will have an update a little later.
April 14, 2016
Everyone– it is with deep sorrow that I must inform you that our dear friend Brock Belvedere has died.
Friends are invited to call at the Life Lessons Funeral Home (ceremonial collectible funeral keepsake attached) tomorrow and Friday from 1-3, 5-7, and 11-1.
Brock seemed to be improving this morning but I am told he took a turn for the worse after lunch. “His skin began to take on the color of a dried sponge,” one nurse noted. “He began to sort of fold in on himself,” another added.
He died at 2:16 LST.
Goodnight, friend.
April 14, 2016
Friends– an update on the viewing of dear Brock Belvedere, today and Friday at the Life Lessons Funeral Home.
Brock had a little cash in his wallet so, in accordance to what we think his wishes may have been, we decided to have a box lunch for his friends. We are taking orders now.
Lunch will be provided by the catering division of Vitiello Decorative Hams, Inc. Below are the options:
-Turkey Club on a sliced decorative ham: Turkey, bacon ,swiss-like cheese, lettuce & tomato on a flaky decorative ham with fruit, chips, cookies and a bottled water.
-Honey Mustard Chicken: Marinated/grilled honey mustard filet on a sliced, crisp decorative ham with muenster-like cheese, whole real fruits, chips, cookies and a bottled water.
– The Vitiello Combo: Turkey, Swiss-like cheese, dijon-like mustard on a petite sliced and breaded decorative ham with cheddar-like cheese on the side, a fruit, chips, cake substance and a bottled water.
-Vegetables: Just a plate of mildly steamed vegetables, poorly presented (Vitiello Decorative Hams detests vegetarians).
Please RSVP your choice to Devon Fick using the “comment” option. As you can see (attached), I am keeping very careful track of the selections utilizing Excel Spreadsheets with complex summation formulas so that I can instantly tabulate final food totals.
God Bless our Friend.
April 14, 2016
Friends– we now have a quantity of Brock Belvedere Bereavement Frisbees available. Remember our departed loved one with these flying discs made of durable environmentally-friendly cross-woven plastic. We only have orange right now. 9 1/4″ diameter (standard).
$12.99, 8 for $59.99.
RIP, dear friend.
April 15, 2016
Friends, the first viewing for Brock Belvedere was an unprecedented success. So many vivid memories, textures and feelings. I know we all had a wonderful time (especially at the 11-1 session).
Remember, if you couldn’t make it yesterday, you can still look at Brock’s lifeless body today from 1-3, 5-7, and 11-1 at the Life Lessons Funeral Home in the Southern Lankville Marshland Area. We have also set up a “Brock Belvedere Bereavement Shop” where you can pick up a number of terrific items including the Brock Belvedere “Thanks Brock” basketballs, the Bereavement Frisbees and the beer cozies. Plus, we’re offering a package deal. Get all three for just $29.99 (limited quantities, one per bereaved).
Scott Answers Your Pizza Questions
What happens if a person who orders for pizza delivery takes the pizza and refuses to pay?
Lance Speaker
Lankville Pine Basin
Dear Lance,
First off, Lance, nobody has ever “taken” a pizza from me and refused to pay. The pizza remains firmly wedged between my left hand (my delivery hand) and my left flank until the dollars have been counted out to MY satisfaction. Nobody touches a Round pizza until that transaction is complete.
I’ve heard it said that some pizzerias will simply take the pizza back to the restaurant. At worst, they might make a notation in their computer system– mark the deadbeat as a “non-payer”, something like that.
But that ain’t not how we do it at the Round.
Secondly, you pull that shit with us, and that’ll be the last pizza you ever order in the Northern Suburbs. And I don’t just mean from the Round. I mean from anybody. I’ll personally see to that. Go ahead, Lance. Try me.
SCOTT
Is it ethical to order a delivery pizza when it’s raining?
Buck Igloos
Snowy Lake Area
Dear Buck,
You ever hear about that little creed that the Lankville post offices have got? The one about delivering in the rain, sleet and snow?
Well, the Round goes one better. We’ve delivered in rain, sleet and snow, sure. But we’ve also delivered in tornadoes, dust storms, super squirrel infestations, trash blows and even hurricanes.
Frankly, I don’t know where the hell these questions are even coming from.
SCOTT
Why don’t more pizza places offer stuffed crust pizza?
Billy Choppy
Lankville Outlands
Dear Billy,
Now here’s something that I got an opinion on after 20 years in the business.
Look, stuffed crust seems like a breathtaking advancement, I know. But the thing is- it ruins the crust. I view the crust as the oasis of a pizza, if you will. It’s a little break after all that cheese and sauce. It mixes it up. Now, you put sauce and cheese inside the crust and what do you have? You got overkill, that’s what.
Plus, it’s a grade-A pain in the ass to make. My guys at the Round ain’t no good at it– they don’t have the spatial thinking skills that are required. Very few do. I do but that’s rare, man. As rare as a shimmering diamond popping out of the ass of some deep cave. Stuffed crust don’t pay the bills, man.
SCOTT
Scott will continue to answer your pizza questions in further issues.
OPINION: TURN AROUND IN TONY PEPPERONY’S DRIVEWAY AND YOU MIGHT FIND YOURSELF WITH A TIRE UP YOUR ASS
TONY PEPPERONY LIVES ON A NICE, QUIET DEAD END STREET.
PEOPLE, SEE, SOMETIMES THEY DON’T PAY NO ATTENTION AND THEY DON’T REALIZE IT’S A DEAD END STREET. SO, THEY GOTTA’ TURN AROUND, SEE? SO, THEY PICK SOMEBODY’S DRIVEWAY TO TURN AROUND IN.
WELL, LET ME TELL YOU RIGHT NOW: YOU PICK TONY PEPPERONY’S DRIVEWAY TO TURN AROUND IN AND YOU MIGHT FIND YOURSELF WITH A TIRE UP YOUR ASS.
MADGE AND I SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THE PEBBLE LINER THAT RUNS UP EITHER SIDE OF THE DRIVEWAY TO THE GARAGE. CHRIST, TONY PEPPERONY HAS BEEN KNOWN TO BRING A GOD DAMN BIG DIGITAL LEVEL OUT TO MAKE SURE IT’S EVEN. HELL, TONY PEPPERONY’S EVEN BEEN KNOWN TO TAKE AN ARIEL SHOT FROM THE ROOF JUST SO’S HE CAN BE A HUNDRED PER CENT CERTAIN. AND IF YOU THINK IT’S EASY TO CLIMB UP ON THE ROOF AT MY AGE, WELL, ASSHOLE, THINK AGAIN. GO TO HELL.
NOW, LAST NIGHT, SOME GUY THAT WRITES FOR THIS VERY PAPER, TURNED AROUND IN MY DRIVEWAY. HE DISTURBED ALL THE PEBBLES. THERE WERE PEBBLES IN THE GRASS. NOW, TONY PEPPERONY CAN’T STAND TO SEE THAT. PEBBLES BELONG IN THE PEBBLE BED, IN THE PEBBLE LINER, NOT IN THE GOD DAMN GRASS.
NOW, THIS GUY THAT WRITES FOR THIS VERY PAPER, HE SAYS HE’S COMING OVER WITH HIS PEBBLE RAKE LATER ON. WHO EVER HEARD OF A PEBBLE RAKE? I THINK THIS GUY IS SHINING ME ON. HE THINKS HE’S GOT TONY PEPPERONY FIGURED OUT BUT HE AIN’T GOT TONY PEPPERONY FIGURED OUT. I GOT HIM FIGURED OUT. THAT’S THE NATURE OF THIS GOD DAMN EQUATION.
NEEDLESS TO SAY, TONY PEPPERONY FIXED HIS OWN PEBBLE BED.
SO, OF ALL OF YOU, I ASK– WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? TONY PEPPERONY?
I THINK NOT.
The opinions of Tony Pepperony are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
OPINION: I’ve Been Kicked in the Face Before, I’ll Be Kicked in the Face Again
Yeah, this here’s a message for that little retard down at Climax Auto Parts on Route 71. Guess what, asshole? I’ve been kicked in the face before and I’ll sure as shit be kicked in the face again.
Let me tell you what went down. So, I’m just in there to pick up a couple of new cabin air filters for my ’09 Neptune Steed– let me tell you something right now–the interior of a Dick La Hoyt truck is so clean you could god damn eat off it. Anyway, I’m just minding my own business, checking out a sale they got going on hot shine tire spray, when all the sudden this little piece of fucking shit just reaches in front of me and grabs the EXACT spray bottle that I was eyeing up. I couldn’t believe my god damn eyes.
So, I’m like, “hey buddy, that there bottle is SPOKEN FOR.” He looks at me a second and then he’s like, “alright, I’ll grab another one.” And the sonuvabitch puts back my spray bottle and grabs the one next to it.
I just about lost it. “HEY MAN, HOW DO YOU KNOW ALL THESE BOTTLES AIN’T SPOKEN FOR? What in the hell gives you THE RIGHT?”
“Listen,” he says. “There’s plenty of tire spray for everyone.”
THAT DID IT.
“WE’RE TAKING THIS SHIT OUTSIDE,” I said. “DICK LA HOYT’S GONNA’ TEACH YOUR STUPID ASS A LESSON.”
“Listen- I’m not a fighter, man,” he says. “Why don’t we just pay for our stuff and go our separate ways?”
“LISTEN HERE, CHICKENSHIT,” I said. “IT EITHER GOES DOWN OUTSIDE OR IT GOES DOWN RIGHT HERE IN THE EXTERIOR CARE PRODUCTS AISLE.”
And then the next thing I know, the guy floors me with a roundhouse kick to the face.
When I woke up, I was on a stool and Bert, my buddy that runs the register, handed me a cup of water.
“WHERE’S THAT HORSE’S ASS?” I said.
“He’s gone. Dick, that guy had some moves. That kick came out of nowhere. You were out before you hit the floor.”
Maybe. But I just want that god damn half-pint to know it and know it good. Dick La Hoyt has been kicked in the face before and as sure as the sun is gonna’ set, he’ll be kicked in the face again.
The opinions of Dick La Hoyt are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
National Gallery of Lankville Art to Exhibit Rare Painting
LANKVILLE ACTION NEWS: YES!
A rare painting by Linda Ten Boom, Lankville’s best-known artist, will be exhibited for the first time in over twenty years, sources are confirming.
“The Candy Hamlet”, painted in 1959, has been shown only twice since it was acquired by a private collector in 1965.
“It’s an extraordinary vision,” noted head curator Chet Lemons. “It may be said to belong to Ten Boom’s “Pink Maudlin Period” but really it is its own singular creation.”
“The Candy Hamlet” will be exhibited for one month only before returning to a private collection. Tickets are already sold out for the first three weeks.
“I remember when Mom painted “The Candy Hamlet,”, said Ten Boom’s oldest son Kent. “She had just completed a long period of dark, tortured religious work, much of it drawing on her obsessions with Eastern Lankville Plains iconography. And then, suddenly, this glittering, sugary candy village came out of nowhere. I remember my sister and I were transfixed.”
“It remains my favorite of Mom’s work,” Ten Boom added after a long silence.
Ten Boom (1919-1962) has permanent exhibitions at several Lankville galleries. “There is no question, she is a modernist master,” noted Lemons. “Our greatest 20th century painter.”
Art lovers may contact the National Gallery of Lankville for more information (after 10 pm). Limited tickets for the final week of the exhibition are still available.






























































LETTER SACK