Posts Tagged With: fun

Letters from the Front Lines —Day 45

IMG_0882My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

I am heartfully sorry for imposing that simpleton on you for even a single day. Private Slappy is my cross to bear.

Your assistance in this matter is as admirable as that of Simon of Cyrene, who lifted the Christ and bore the weight of that awful cross on the road to Calvary.

And you will be rewarded just as the Cyrenian was. Not with everlasting life, but with leather whip blows, spit, and vile insults from the House Boys.

IMG_0928 I am surprised that news of my injury has reached you with such haste. I was not aware the Pony Express traveled on weekends, but I am happy that it does.

Fear not for my leg, darling, for I have acquired the services of the best surgeon in all of the Confederacy. He has assured me that amputation is a last resort. And if I must lose a single leg in order to hold you again, it is but a paltry price to pay.

Until next we meet, I remain your gimpy soldier of love.

Warmest personal regards,

Sgt, T. Polisher

1st News Division

9th Battalion

Categories: corona virus, covid-19, Fun, Life Or Something Like It, news, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Letters from the Front Line –Day 43

IMG_0506My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

Sincerest apologies.

My meaning seems to have been misconstrued.

When I stated that the men are debating whether to return, I meant it in a more rhetorical sense. Hyperbole, if you will.

Your vocabulary has improved so, that I sometimes forget that you are still my little simpleton. Please allow me to explain.

I was simply comparing how annoying a screeching scanner and bloviating anchor must be for this isolation to be the preferable condition.

When I mentioned that missing smiling faces would be a lie, I simply meant that the only time anyone smiles is in times of fakery, as in waiting to be cued for a live shot.

Worry not, gentle one, I long for the days when we can, again, sit together and pass less than secretive insults at Mr. No-Hustle, and the good Senator.

And lest we forget, hold each others’ calls, and fill the grotto with flatus.

Warmest personal regards,

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

Post Script: For confusing you so, and causing you to fret, the season’s first Icee is on me.

Categories: corona virus, covid-19, Fun, Life Or Something Like It, news, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Letters from the Front Line — Day 30

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My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

Has it really been an entire month that I have not seen your homely face and disfigured physique? I perish the thought.

It is a depraved disease, indeed, that keeps us apart.

24129841_10212939781022152_6563068290520468342_nSo lonely was I last eve, that I scoured my photographic repositories for nostalgia’s sake. Oh, the fun you and Major Doofus had knocking footballs off my dome and through your uprights. How I long for those carefree days filling the sports department with our flatus.10471219_10204952772511931_2741076323039023589_o

Or, the hours of enjoyment you always find in tying the shoestrings of my running shoes together, while I pretend not to notice. Ah, to have those lighthearted days back.

The memes of our hi-jinx you so joyfully add to social media accounts always bring a smile to my wrinkled face. Not mention a chuckle to my heart.

Your Buffonery knows no bounds, much as my affection for your childish spirit and your propensity for jocularity at Mr. Nipsy No-Hustle’s expense. It is my fervent hope that soon we shall be reunited to relive some of your favorite old comedy routines at his expense.

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I hope that once life returns to a semblance of normalcy, we can re-create the evening when I gifted you with the threesome that has always been your desire.

Warmest personal regards,

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

Post Script: Run, those skinks are mating!

Categories: corona virus, covid-19, Fun, Life Or Something Like It, news, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Mail Call — Day 29

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Precious Rick,

I am bewildered to learn that you received hate filled messages from our adoring viewers. Your compassion and gentle care of touching souls on a deep and personal level is what separates you from the many others who have stepped inside an audio booth and tried their hand at the field of journalism. I’m sure the Russians are attached to this atrocity!!

I’m overcome with joy knowing that you have commandeered a 21st century device with which to communicate properly. I hope the occasional fart that you so affectionately record will be of the utmost quality.

In any case, I’m glad you’re now a lowly nothing Photog again, able to freely grab yourself and spew profanities on a whim to unsuspecting lens meat.

BTW, maybe you can identify this massive dinosaur looking creature that has decided to homestead in front of my modest home. This beast has most certainly made it easy to quarantine, and for my family to become hermits.

Leaving the house would be tantamount to a Jurassic Park adventure!!

Unrelenting affection,
Left Eye Daquano
2nd Regime
69th Battalion

Categories: corona virus, covid-19, Fun, Life Or Something Like It, news, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Mail Call –Day 24

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Thine steed Rick,

What a wonderful idea!!!

Your genius knows no bounds. The thought of us being superhero’s side by side in tights and matching capes makes my nether region tingle!! Having Tiberius Doofus be the dim-witted buffoon will add authenticity and make all the “slightly off” adults feel a sense of pride that one of their own is on the big screen.

Like most nights before I drift into my slumber, I recite lines from the American classic Smokey and the Bandit. This time I thought about recasting this modern marvel of cinema with people from our newsroom.

Nipsy No Hussle will play Big Enos Burdette. Lil Enos, played by Captain Crooked Hat. Junior the Moronic son will of course be played by Maj. Doofus.

Colonel Kielbasa with his hair and movie star looks will play The Bandit. Heck, he even has the car. That will help our budget greatly.

Now to make it a authentic 2020 reboot, and spice it up with a little controversy, might I suggest the effervescent Mrs. Poe to play the role of Frog!! Can you imagine the shock waves we would send through the Fallopian Tube of Freedom, Livingston Parish??!! An interracial version of Smokey and the Bandit!! Let the hi jinx commence!!

I’m open to suggestions as to the casting of the rest of the star studded cast.

Until we gaze into each other’s eyes again, may your dreams be filled with us fighting crimes in capes and making fun of the doofus.

Missing my beloved turd,
Left eye Daquano
2nd Regime
69th Battalion

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Letters from the Field — Day 23

My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

Sleep is but the only respite I receive from this insipid disease. But, still in my sleep, I toil for us, my darling. And it is slumber that hath provided the best news of the past three weeks!

I can scarcely contain myself at the glorious news. But I hesitate to share it, that in doing so may register it null. Marvel and DC are currently in a bidding war to turn us into the next graphic novel heroes! And it has everything to do with last night’s dream.

You, I, and Major Tiberius Doofus, that’s right Major Doofus, teamed up for one action-packed hootenanny of an adventure. 

We we’re all on a plane parachuting, on jet skis no less, into some god-forsaken hinterland inside these borders. Don’t bother yourself with the details of how, why, or which one of us stuffed a backpack full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches instead of a parachute. Suffice it to say we eventually returned to earth barely worse for the wear.

Once on the ground safely, we teamed with Lance Corporal Houston to infiltrate the lab of a mad scientist who threatened to save the world from global warming by turning everyone into houseplants.

Hilarity and mayhem ensue, mostly at the expense of Major Doofus.

It is my every hope that the final sale price is sufficient to rescue us from our separate isolation and deliver us to a private island where we can enjoy all the bananas we care to eat.

Warmest Regards,

Sgt. T. Polisher

1st News Division

9th Battalion

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Mail Call — Day 23

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Precious Rick,

Despite my yearnings for one of your well crafted heartfelt letters, I understand the quandary that lies within.

You have been thrown into the deep waters of MMJ life. As you stretch your hardened and grizzled hands, grasping for a momentary break on the preverbal side of the pool, Emperor Hays squashes them with his $19 buster browns sinking you deeper into the thankless natatorium.

I sincerely hope you find a modicum of solace in the near future.

Much like Colonel Kielbasa, I too crave those wintergreen treats. I stealthily broke into the lower barracks with a Lysol wipe and commandeered some of those wintergreen candies which lay in Major Auzenne’s nacelle. The sweet sugar rush is just what I needed to push onward, ever so close to the days in which we can play a game of Would Ya.
Until next time,

Left Eye Daquano
2nd Regimen
69th Battalion

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Letters from the Front Line — Day 22

 

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My Dearest Mr. Daquano,

My, what a whirlwind these past few days have been. This impersonating a real reporter is more of an impediment to my letter-writing than I would have imagined it to be. What, with photoggery, reportery, and webbery, I scarcely have time to update Facebook, much less compose artful missives.

Five different stories in five days had upset my delicate constitution. And to make matters worse, I could not ply my ailment with medicinal corn squeezings for I was on-call this weekend past, and remain as such until Friday evening.

Thus, I was forced to remain home instead of traveling outside the wire to visit the elderly couple of which I have become so fond. I did not waste my days languishing  before an insipid feline trainer and his ramblings about that bitch Carole Baskin.

I found my time home ripe for lathery.

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Lance Corporal Houston had grown lethargic and in dire need of wintergreen candies. But alas, Forward Operating Base Frat House has not a single repository for such delicacies. To that end, I produced a fine bowl from and old sweet gum tree that succumbed to Hurricane Barry.

It is quite delightful and can hold an entire bag of the treats the young Lance craves as well as the chocolates noshed be He Of The Crooked Hat.

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I continue to look forward to the days when I can bore you with lathery videos and answer your well-intended, yet naive queries.

Warmest Regards,

Sgt T. Polisher
1st News Division
9th Battallion

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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

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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

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