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Posts Tagged ‘Lankville’

Fun Science Experiments with Dr. Matt Dragons

June 23, 2016 Leave a comment
Dr. Matt Dragons

Dr. Matt Dragons

Conductivity

Today, we’re going to discuss conductivity. When an ionic compound, such as sodium diopotate, dissolves in water, it dissociates into ions and the resulting solution conducts electricity. A conductivity meter can be used to measure the flow of electricity and determine the ionic strength of the solution and with the easy-to-read digital face, even the retarded or insane can join in the fun!

Remember, the flow of electricity is directly proportional to the number of ions in the solution– the more ions there are, the greater the conductivity of the solution!

Directions for Using the Conductivity Probe

1. Purchase a Danny Madison LabQuest Vertex II Conductivity Probe™ for this test– they are available anywhere fine scientific testing supplies are sold. Make sure the LabQuest Vertex II is plugged in and turned on and that the probe is set to Channel 34 (25 in the Islands).

2. Obtain a sample of water. Try a nearby pond, lake or stream. Be sure to isolate your sample in a scientific plastic bottle and store it in a small scientific cooler full of scientific ice packs.

PRO TIP: No matter what you are testing, always be sure to record its weight first!

PRO TIP: No matter what you are testing, always be sure to record its weight first!

2. Place the probe into a beaker or shallow basin containing the water sample you are testing. The Danny Madison Lighted Beacon Tip™ must be fully submerged.

3. Wait for the value to stabilize and note this in your notebook, pad, or digital writing pad (if that’s how you choose to live your life).

4. Rinse the conductivity probe off with distilled water and dry it with a Danny Madison DryWipe 2000™ (available anywhere fine scientific cleaning wipes are sold).

5. When you are done collecting your data, turn the LabQuest Vertex II off. Make sure the probe has been thoroughly cleaned and dried and be sure to keep it away from the infirm, babies and small pets.

What Does Your Data Mean?

By measuring the conductivity of your solution, you can now discern its salinity. Salinity is a measure of the total amount of non-carbononananate salts dissolved in your solution. The salinity of seawater is fairly constant, at about 35 ppmc (parts per measuring cube, or 1 g/Lm (x)). Brackish estuaries may have salinities between 1 and as high as 50 ppmc– although higher levels have been found in the Lankville Western Dead Swamps and the Route 71 Trash Stream.

Since aquatic organisms have varying abilities to survive and thrive in different salinities, you now know if life is possible in your pond, lake or stream. Remember: most freshwater organisms cannot live in levels above 5 ppmc; if your salinity level is higher than 5 ppmc, then everything in your sample is stone dead and the sampled pond, lake or stream is what is known as a “dead zone” or, in scientific terms, a ingens dunda mortis. Although dead zones can occasionally be reclaimed, it is best to forget about them and alert your local builder to the matter so that the area can be filled in and a parking lot or mall constructed.

Next time, we’ll be looking at protons and electrons and how to draw them.

Gourds in Summer: The Sleeping Giant?

June 22, 2016 Leave a comment
Dr. David Hadbawnik

By Dr. David Hadbawnik

Dr. David Hadbawnik is Lankville’s premier authority on gourds.

You thought gourds were for autumn, the time of cider and the harvest and little people in funny hats. You thought – thanks to my previous column in THIS paper – gourds could be good for Christmas, as ornaments, gifts, holiday dream-scapes. But gourds in summer? If, perchance, the thought crossed your mind, like a big red pumpkin flying through the evening sky, no doubt you immediately dismissed it. Ridiculous! you thought.

You were wrong.

Gourds in summer are a gift, a gift I now wish to share with you. All it takes is a little love and a lot of ingenuity. You have to really want a summer gourd. Do you want it? Do you?

I thought so. Now that the idea is in your head, you can feel the love spreading out slowly, softly. Follow that love into the fields, near the meadows where a stream quietly trickles, nestling the banks with moisture. Find a rich, moist spot of ground and start digging.

Have you found anything yet? No? Keep digging.

Summer gourds don’t just jump out of the earth into your arms. It might take an hour. Three hours. Half a day. Oh, the times I’ve spent searching and digging for summer gourds. I could tell you some stories.

Let me just say that it’s always been worth it. When my fingers bump against that hardened green flesh, when I clear away the dirt and feel the shape of the gourd against the palm of my hand, when I finally pry it loose… Let me just say, it’s very satisfying indeed. Like finding a long-lost child. A child you never knew you had.

So keep digging, my friends, and find your summer gourd. They are out there, in the valleys and fields and dales, a summer giant waiting for your touch to free them. Enjoy!

Haunted Amusements

June 21, 2016 Leave a comment
By Ted Cromartie

By Ted Cromartie

I left my motel room just before dawn. I carefully placed a handmade sign clipped to the windshield of the brand new luxury car– Donated to Pandas. Sure, the fundraiser was over. But they’d figure it out. I walked down the two-lane highway. I passed dirt, stones, signs and dead bodies. No one passed me.

Near dawn, I came upon a dilapidated service station. The pumps out front were clearly inoperable. There was a car bay and the door was up but the glass was all broken out. There was a stack of old oil cans but someone had spray-painted WHORE all over them. Some of them had fallen over into the pumping lanes.

The service area door was open and an old man sat behind a derelict counter. He barely looked up.

“Life lost meaning for me a long time ago, I cannot even remember when that was,” I said.

“Boy, that’s too bad,” said the old man, finally. “You could try some of these candies.” He passed a dusty package of faded jelly candies across the splintered counter.

“Are these Goofs?” I asked. “I thought you couldn’t get Goofs anymore.” I couldn’t help myself– I tore the cellophane asunder with such force that many of the Goofs fell to the floor, rolled under distant objects. I ate one.

“Funny, as otherworldly delicious as these are, I don’t feel much like goofing. I feel the same ennui.”

And then the old man died, right there in his chair.

I peered out the door, down the highway in both directions. Seeing nothing but giant brown boulders, I knew it was safe. I removed the old man’s wallet and tucked it into my jacket pocket.

And then I felt better.

“It will be best not to donate that car to pandas,” I said aloud to no one. And I huffed it back to the motel. Some men in blue jumpsuits were just about to roll the luxury car onto a flatbed tow truck.

“No. I don’t want to donate it now,” I screamed. “Get out of here. Get away!”

The men left immediately.

And so did I.

The Power of Tolerable by Brian Schropp

June 20, 2016 Leave a comment

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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

June 20, 2016 Leave a comment
A Buck Igloos Health Watch

By Buck Igloos

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 by the pool.

Keebaugh by the pool.

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

June 20, 2016 Leave a comment
By Otis Nixon

As Told to Otis Nixon

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.”

A local lunatic's imaging of Tulah in her unicorn suit.

A local lunatic’s imagining of Tulah in her unicorn suit.

“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

June 20, 2016 Leave a comment
By Elliott Cumber-Lanny

By Elliott Cumber-Lanny

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.”

The lovely balloons.

The lovely balloons.

“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.”

Funny Stories by Dick Oakes, Jr.

June 10, 2016 Leave a comment
By Dick Oakes, Jr.

By Dick Oakes, Jr.

I headed down for breakfast at the Murray.

I was hungover to hell.

Tibbs was in there– a splattered tan apron around his ample belly. He smelled like beer.

“GOOD MORNING, MR. OAKES!” He started laughing hysterically, even ended up bent over at the waist. Who could make anything of any of it?

“Morning Tibbs. Let’s have biscuits and gravy and a cup of that mud you’ve been peddling as coffee.”

“HAHAHAHAHAHA, OH, WHAT A DELIGHT! WHAT AN AMAZING DELIGHT YOU ARE, MR. OAKES!”

My temples throbbed.

I read an old local paper somebody had left in the booth. There was an article in there about some donkeys that had pulled a cart up a hill. The writer went on and on and on about it. Took up 3/4 a page. They had quotes and everything. There weren’t no merit to it.

Tibbs came back. The joy on his face had disappeared. There was a shadow over him.

“Mr. Oakes– have you ever slept with faith and awoke with a corpse in your arms?”

I just sat there. What could you do? He leaned in closer.

“YOUR BREAKFAST WILL BE OUT MOMENTARILY, MR. OATES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WHAT A DELIGHTFUL MORNING!”

He bolted over to the counter and deposited a basket of rye toast into a nearby booth. There wasn’t anybody sitting there.

I kept up with the paper. The towels-by-the-pound lady had taken out a little ad. There was a pennant that went across the bottom. It said: “Ask for Dick Oakes, Head Salesman.”

“Chrissakes,” I said aloud.s-l1600

“That’s right, Mr. Oates,” Tibbs said. I jumped a bit. He was right behind me. I hadn’t heard a thing.

“That’s right, Mr. Oates. Flames will burn up all the trees of the fields; even the animals will pant for you.”

I was starting to figure on some kind of a jackpot but Tibbs was blocking me in. I didn’t know where the hell to go.

“You read about this donkey, Tibbs?” I finally countered.

“OH YES! YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, and YES, MR. OAKES. WHAT A DELIGHT!”

Some more rye toast appeared on the counter. Tibbs brought it over to me and then bolted outside.

I could hear him out there.

“ALL YOU RAVENOUS CUNTS! YOU WANT A LITTLE TIBBS IN YOUR BASKET DON’T YOU? I’LL FIGHT ANYBODY.”

He nattered on insanely until finally a couple of detectives plowed up onto the curb and took him away.

I never did get my biscuits.

Ask Catrin

June 9, 2016 Leave a comment

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

Royer’s Madcap Experiences: I, River Dick

June 2, 2016 Leave a comment

royerIt 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

June 2, 2016 Leave a comment

samwaysandfick2

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

Dr. Fick.

Dr. Fick.

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!

Dr. Samways

Dr. Samways

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.

Scott Answers Your Pizza Questions

June 1, 2016 Leave a comment
Scott, Manager of the Pizza A-Round

By Scott, Manager of the Pizza A-Round

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 AreaBiKpwGoCcAAR-hz

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

April 8, 2016 1 comment
By Tony Pepperony

By Tony Pepperony

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

March 31, 2016 Leave a comment

hoyt2

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

March 30, 2016 Leave a comment
By Charles A. Pappas

By Charles A. Pappas

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, 1959.

The Candy Hamlet, 1959.

“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.