Posts Tagged With: fun

Letters from the Front Line –Day 18

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My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

I can scarcely contain my exuberance. Yesterday, I was faced with another day of drudgery which I turned on its own head.

I found a most generous proprietor who, despite the governor’s order to the contrary, has allowed one elderly couple to continue to dine inside her establishment. So pleased was the general with my find, that he has sent my report up the chain of command, straight to the Pentagon!

Hopefully, the directors of this cruel war will be equally pleased and grant me 48 hours leave. It would be my greatest desire to escort you to a fruit stand to swap bananas.

Yet, I also have disappointing news to bring. Your sweat-stained gift made it only half a night in the boudoir. It’s musky air fouled Miss Gail’s sinuses, and impeded her excitement for her matrimonial duties.

Your wife-beater now resides inside my horseless carriage where I can gaze upon it often and wish it were filled by your muscular physique.

Hold strong my dear, for we shall meet again, soon.

Warmest regards,
Sgt. T. Polisher
1st News Division
9th Battalion

Categories: Fun, Life Or Something Like It, news, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Letters from the Front Lines — Day 16

EDITOR’S NOTE: In and effort to entertain the newsroom, another photographer and I (who are now required to work from home) have begun exchanging letters from the frontline of the Coronavirus Pandemic. I share them with you so that you may feel the love.

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My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

Apologies for the tardiness of my daily missive. General News is relentless.

With the loss of Pvt. Slappy, he has demoted me to daily reporting. Real news! With actual deadlines! And a 90-second time limit!

I fear my reputation as the Feature Guy may be in jeopardy.

Daily news is an ugly business, much like the work of Captain Crank. Business from which your delicate eyes should always be protected.

Today, I found myself surrounded by women in masks and gloves. Never have I been so unnerved since my last colonoscopy. They, however, were gentle creatures helping treat victims of the cruel contagion that has separated us. 

I hope the good General is kinder to you.

I long to hear more of your adventures with the loquacious Ms. Kitch. She seems to know many big words that assuredly challenge your comprehension daily.

Thank you for the thoughtful gift. Until I can embrace you again, I shall sleep soundly with my arms wrapped around your smelly wife-beater.

With warmest regards,

Sgt. T Polisher
1st News Division
9th Battallion

Categories: Fun, Life Or Something Like It, news, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Letters from the Field — Day 12

EDITOR’S NOTE: In and effort to entertain the newsroom, another photographer and I (who are now required to work from home) have begun exchanging letters from the frontline of the Coronavirus Pandemic. I share them with you so that you may feel the love.valentines-day-massacre

My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

We have lost a good man. . . Well, we have lost a man.

Private Slappy is no more.

No! This vile infection did not take him. He is too simple for something like that. His wife has birthed his offspring — a scary though in itself — but in this time of uncertainty and toilet paper scarcity, a truly heroic feat. . . on her part, anyway. The private had little to do with any of it after conception.

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So, we are a man down at Forward Operating Base Frat House. Captain Crank has assigned me to Boot Duhe for the remainder of this unfortunate situation.

He is pleasant enough, though a tad too happy for my liking. But I guess that goes with being young in his craft. A few days with me, and I am sure he will sour.

If that were not enough, the General has assigned me reporting duties. Keep your eyes peeled. Though you cannot see me in person, you may soon see me on your glowing flat-screen.

Warmest regards,

Sgt, T. Polisher
1st News Division
9th Battalion

Categories: Fun, Life Or Something Like It, news, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Letters from the Front Lines — Day 11

EDITOR’S NOTE: In and effort to entertain the newsroom, another photographer and I (who are now required to work in separate offices) have begun exchanging letters from the frontline of the Coronavirus Pandemic. I share them with you so that you may feel the love.

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My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

You were right as usual. The thought of Mr Balboa’s pugilistic prowess in defeating that ugly woman’s husband lifted my spirits enough to carry on.

My apologies for not writing yesterday. So much has happened I scarcely know where to begin.

Firstly, sanitary privileges have been restored! T’was long over-due. The air here had become quite foul. Sadly, there was only water enough that we had to share.

Ranking members Forward Operating Base Frat House were allowed to shower first. That water was recaptured in a washtub from which the rest of the men were allowed to bathe.

I was able to fashion a pair of tweezers out of two spork handles and perform a little maintenance on my longer follicles as well.

Yesterday, I was, once again, outside the wire. Again, it was in the delightful burg 90 minutes southeast.

I spent the better part of the morn ferrying locals to and fro, hither and yon. Various appointments, and obligations needed tending. I was only too happy to break the quarantine here to engage in a little distanced socializing.

The afternoon was filled with physical labour. The sweat of my brow was a paltry sum to see such happiness on the faces of the locals.

So pleased with my work, were they, that they gifted me with something more prized than gold in these times of scarcity.

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Bathroom stationary.

3-ply!

Rest assured, I shall put it to good use later this evening.

With warmest regards,

Sgt. T. Polisher
1st News Division
9th Battalion

Categories: Fun, Life Or Something Like It, news, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Letters from the Front Line — Day 4

EDITOR’S NOTE: In and effort to entertain the newsroom, another photographer and I (who are now required to work in separate offices) have begun exchanging letters from the frontline of the Coronavirus Pandemic. I share them with you so that you may feel the love.Periplaneta_americana_Face_MD_Prince_Georges_county_2014-02-27-15.31.28_ZS_PMax.jpg.860x0_q70_crop-scaleMy Dearest Mr. Daquano,

Your last epistle brightened my spirits tremendously. I am greatly comforted knowing that you will continue to broaden your vocabulary in my absence.

The troops of Forward Operating Base Frat House are in the doldrums, today. Boot Duhe left the remnants of yesterday’s pie uncovered last night. This morning, Lance Corporal Houston found the largest cockroach I have ever seen perched atop a dollop of whipped cream, almost daring the Lance to knock him off.

So large a creature was he, that the terrified Boot Duhe made haste to exit the Mess Hall as if his hair were set ablaze.

Thankfully, in his tryptophan-induced stupor, the vile creature was too slow and dispatched with great ease. The cockroach, that is, not LCpl Houston.

The drudgery of FOB life has set in. Tonight, we plan a covert action against Captain Crank’s liquor cabinet. I cannot get into the specifics of the operation, but suffice it to say it involves a coupon and a crooked hat.

Until next I lay eyes upon you, I remain most sincerely yours,

Sargent T. Polisher
1st News Division
9th Batqallion.

Categories: Fun, news, Not Writing | Tags: , , , , , | 1 Comment

Letters from the Front Line Day 3

EDITOR’S NOTE: In and effort to entertain the newsroom, another photographer and I (who are now required to work in separate offices) have begun exchanging letters from the frontline of the Coronavirus Pandemic. I share them with you so that you may feel the love.
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My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

Lo, it has only been three days in quarantine, but it seems a lifetime since I have gazed on your gentle countenance.

Rations at Forward Operating Base Frat House are bountiful. Today, one of our members supplied us with cookies and cream pie from Elsie’s Pie-porium. It was the perfect ending to an otherwise boring ham and cheese sandwich. Still, I long for mornings when I can watch you deep-throat monkey food.

The men have settled in to a daily routine. We rise in the morning, receive our orders, bitch about our orders, then proceed to carry them out. Frankly, we think our generals could use a taste of battle now and then, but that might upset the chain of command, and confuse the the rest of the men.

I am quite pleased that the quality of our work has not suffered for our working conditions.

Today, Private Slappy and I had to confront a rather ferocious middle school principal. The woman said all the right things on camera, but we could feel the hatred she had for our kind seething just behind her gregarious smile.

Next, it was off to a contaminated home. Bravely, we entered without any protection to chat with a comely mother of two as she set about schooling her agnst-filled teenage daughter and precocious little one, all the while huddled in fear of the current cause of all our misery.

I hope the governor lifts his orders soon and we can all go back to being our happy newsroom again.

Until then, I think of you often, (especially when perusing the fresh fruit at the market on the rare occasion we are allowed to venture out) and I long for the day when I can hold you in my gaze again.

Sincerest regards,

Sargent Richard Portier
1st News Division
9th Batallion

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#HookerProblems

316675--600What do hookers do on vacation? Do hookers even get vacations? And if they do, where do they go?

That’s what news guys discuss in the break room over caffeine and honey buns.

What, at first blush, may sound like a crass joke could be a serious problem.

Hookers were arguably the original working girls. And workers here in the good ole U.S. of A have come to expect a few things when it comes to their employer: Health, Dental, and the paid vacation sitting near the top of the list. So I find it hard to believe that any pimp worth his backhand would not offer his stable at least a little time for self-enrichment. And if he didn’t, I’m sure Local 69 of the International Floozie Sisterhood would hire some muscle to convince him otherwise.

polls_ProstitutionND_3852_520564_poll_xlargeSo, Jezebel, you’ve sold your wares for six months. Now, your loving flesh-peddler has given you five days to let your hair grow . . . or whatever a pimp tells his harlots when he gives them a few days off. Where would you go?

It would have to be somewhere cheap. The going rate for, ahem, “personal favors” in Vegas around $50. (Don’t ask me how I know, and if my wife dumps my browser history, I swear it was just research.) You’re not rich by any stretch. And with all those wanton millionaires dragging you to museums, operas, and polo matches, (Yes, all I know about hookers I learned from Pretty Woman.) you’d probably be ready for something a little less sophisticated.

So you take a bus to Palookaville, USA, and check into a hotel. Now what?

prostitute+legWhen normal people check into a hotel, the first thing they do is have sex, but you’re a hooker on vacation. Sex would be work!

Maybe you could go to the bar for a drink. No, wait that’s work, too. Dinner at a nice restaurant? Work. Lay out by the pool? Really? Like skimpy clothes aren’t your uniform.

You’re a street-walker, so a walk in the park is out. The zoo? Probably not. All those animals mating is too much like research.

Go fishing? Really? You had to bring up fish?

About the only thing left for a hooker to do on vacation that isn’t work, is sleep. And why not? After all those late hours, you deserve a nap.

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