Ed:  The Snooseville Baywatch Rerun Society met a week ago last Tuesday in the saloon, as usual, but when the VCR got fuzzy during a segment featuring a former member of the Swedish Bikini Team, riotous complaining erupted and the loggers began to throw barrels of rotten fish at each other. 

Ollie:  That's terrible.

Ed:   The Sheriff, reacting to an emergency call by the bartender, stuck his head in the door just in time to be coldconked by a flying frozen two hundred pound Icelandic codpiece. 

Ollie:  That can't be right.

Ed:  No, it can’t.  It must be a typo. This was written by a member of my news department.   Good staff, as you well know, Colonel, is hard to find. 

Ollie:  I hear that.

Ed:  You’d think (Ollie North Show producers) Griff or Chris wrote this.   It had to be a flying frozen two hundred pound Icelandic codFISH.  Or, perhaps a piece of one.   I mean, I hope there’s no such thing as a two hundred pound Icelandic codpiece, let alone a flying one. 

Ollie:  It would be awful if there was. 

Ed:  Frozen, I suppose is possible.  A codpiece could easily freeze in a place like Iceland. 

Ollie:  Yes.  Yes it could.

Ed:   Back to the story.  So, after he, the sheriff, was dunked in the logpond, and regained what little sense a malodorous genetic heritage has bequeathed upon him,  he refused to return to the saloon interior without backup, and called the Oregon State Police. 

Ollie:   Oh, no.  A standoff.

Ed:  Right.  Four cars showed up, all of them loaded with affirmative action recruits from the People’s Republic of Portland.  These women reminded bystanders of Nurse Ratchet.  If it wasn’t for their round eyes, you’d have sworn they were Sumo wrestlers wearing purple lipgloss.

Ollie:  My producers wear that.

Ed:   Well, these troopers stormed inside the saloon and pretty soon you could hear Norwegian logger pleas for mercy.  God only knows what those femi-nazi cops were doing to the boys.  Some who heard the wailing said it reminded them of the mainstream media the day the U.S. Supreme Court told the Florida Supreme Court that it didn’t have the power to arbitrarily rewrite constitutionally valid state election laws.

Ollie:  That's a terrible way to treat Norwegians.

Ed:   Twenty loggers were eventually deposited in the city jail, and all pleaded guilty without trial so that those badge-wearing Buchenwald butches would not be required to return to this part of the county to give testimony.

(end of radio report)

Finally, for those who are civic-minded, next Tuesday is Town Cleanup Day, and anybody who turns in a dumpster full of Norwegian loggers will receive a nice certificate signed by the Mayor
 
 

The Peg’s Bottom elementary school spring festivities will include the presentation of a play titled, “My Norwegian Valentine,” which is based on material rejected by Wagner in the Ring Cycle, and  centers on the relationship between  a man wearing dirty animals skins and a metal hat with horns, and a walrus named Olga who has a striking resemblance to a French Diva who was run over by a truck full of fresh croquettes while crossing the Champs d Elysees on foot. The literary form here is known as farce, which is similar to being Jesse Jackson..

Six foot bee attempts to date librarian

On St. Valentines day, Meriweather Lewis, of Rt. 3 Dufur, wishing to gain the favor of his true love, Miss Montpelier Wainscotting, who is the Dufur town librarian, constructed a quarter scale model of the Castle of the Capulets out of plastic flower petals, then dressed up as a six foot bee named Buzz Montegue, and stood outside the library all day humming Elizabethan chamber music.    Miss Wainscotting, who was not amused by his large stinger, called the police and had him physically removed from her stoop. 

Mr. Lewis was awarded early release from the town jail after a week of making honey in his cell.

"We all got tired of the humming, and sticking to the floor," said the sheriff.

May 24, 2001
Attempted fix of sporting event foiled

At the Garibaldi crab races last week, a cheater spray painted a British Racing Crab to look like a natïve Dungeness, but the judges spotted the fake because it clicked its pincers with an accent,  had a monocle and a thin, well trimmed mustache.  Its name was Ronald Coleman, so that was a bit of a giveaway, too.

UFOs definitely exist.  They are flying coach class. -- Plato Hamburger

Mayl 28, 2001
Mir lands on Foofaw farm

The central living area of the Russian MIR space station came down on top of Clyde Foofaw’s prize bull, who didn’t even notice the event, although he is presently sunk up to his knees in the pasture and is solar powered, now. And speaking of Clyde, he has an old Fiat Spyder convertible, and he got to cleaning it up for summer, last week.  His idea of a great way to get the mouse bedding out of the carburetor throats was to duct tape a vacuum cleaner hose to the top and turn on the power.  Well, it sucked about a quart of gas into the vacuum cleaner, which became a jet engine and took off towing the car behind it.  It was heading East the last we saw it, so if you notice a sports car heading out into the Atlantic, being towed by a vacuum cleaner, you might let Clyde know about it.

March issue of Peg's Bottom Gazette
April issue of Peg's Bottom Gazette
May issue of Peg's Bottom Gazette