Jim Archives

June 8, 2007

Jim: In The Center Ring

Harnesses adorned by feathers,
Myra’s horses circle the ring.
Myra stands atop the center horse,
And she’s barely wearing a thing.

Tony’s lions back up in their cage
When he enters with only a chair.
Here come poodles, walking on balls,
And there’s Bobo, the bike-riding bear.

There’s something wrong with an elephant
And alarm spreads in the tent today.
Thankfully, the clowns get it under control
Before the crowds are all sent away.

We’ve hundreds of animals in the circus,
Each is tamed quite well.
But when one of those beasts gets a toothache
We usually run like hell.

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June 11, 2007

Jim: Maybe It Was Bigfoot...

About a dozen years ago, a couple of college students decided to write papers about the myth concerning alligators in the sewers. My friend Mort managed the sanitation department back then and he cleared them to climb on down and do their research.

They waded around for a few weeks analyzing all sorts of things: water purity, potential food supplies, water temperature, stuff like that. They concluded that large reptiles could not survive in that environment.

The day after submitting their papers, they went down one last time to retrieve their equipment. They never returned.

They both received ‘A’s. Posthumously.

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June 13, 2007

Jim: The Local Critic

Tribune Entertainment Revue
By Emily Lancaster

June 13, 2007

No local show in recent memory was so eagerly anticipated yet so poorly delivered as the Community Theater’s Shakespearean Rendition Medley. Both the Hamlet and King Lear segments were almost bearable, despite being set in 1920’s Chicago and South Central Los Angeles, respectively.

After that, though, the show spiraled sickeningly downward, finally crash-landing with the ensemble’s ballet dance number, oddly titled Julius, Cease Her! While I may someday clear the vision from my mind of 40 year-olds pirouetting in leotards, I will always grimace from the final line of “Tutu, Brute?”.

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June 14, 2007

Jim: I Invented Having A Dream...

Al’s thoughts were in a frenzied jumble,
Like they were every waking hour.
He knew he had to formulate a plan
So he could finally regain power.

He plopped down beside his pool,
An umbrella propped for shade.
He put on his darkest Ray-Bans
And sipped an ice-cold lemonade.

“They just pushed me aside,” Al thought,
“Now I have to make them pay!
I must find a way to scare them all!
Damn, it sure is hot today.”

And then, from inside dark recesses,
Mental images began forming.
He’d stumbled upon a diabolical scheme
And he called it Global Warming.

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June 15, 2007

Jim: Another Day In The Swamp

Deep in the bayou cypress
Ol’ Sheriff Bartholomew Cyrus
Set out on a mission.
As well as a crime un-tangler
He was a damn good angler
So he went off fishin’.

With brother’s Bill and Tom Choate,
In their flat-bottom boat,
Some catfish he was ready to fight.
“You should try this, I think,”
Bill said with a big wink,
Handing over some lit dynamite.

“This is illegal,” said the lawman,
Tossing away the contraband
That exploded down on the bottom.
“You mean all these dead fish, Chief?”
Tom asked with mock grief,
“It seems you’re the guy who gottem.”

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June 18, 2007

Jim: He Can Also Cure A Bad Case Of Coffin

“It’s called tinnitus,” Dr. Peyton explained. “Most people get it from time to time.”

“But this ringing has been going on for weeks!” I whined. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

Dr. Peyton shook his head. “Usually I refer chronic cases like yours to an otolaryngologist. The tests are pretty expensive. However…” he trailed off.

“What is it, Doc?”

“Let’s try something a little different,” he said. He dug a plastic probe into my ear. Suddenly, I heard a little click and the ringing stopped. That horrible, incessant ringing stopped!

But now I hear a little voice repeating, “Hello? Hello?…”

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June 19, 2007

Jim: At The Magic Shoppe

“Hey, lookee,” I smirked, sliding my triple-Es into the sparkly red shoes. “One size fits all! Now, how do these loafers work?”

“Why, that’s easy,” the hoop-skirted proprietress trilled annoyingly. “You just close your eyes, click the heels together, and say ‘There’s no place like home.’”

My eyes narrowed. “And then what?”

“Then they take you home,” she warbled.

“Where else can they take me?”

“Er… No place else,” she sang. “Just home.”

“That’s it? For 500 smackers, that’s all they do?”

“Yes. That’s all.”

I pulled the shoes off. “Cab fare’s only six-fifty,” I growled. “What else you got?”

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July 2, 2007

Jim: Down Time

Hidden deep in the Arctic Circle, the Fortress of Solitude is an astounding place. Built with lost Krypton crystal technology, its icy walls would survive a nuclear attack.

Inside, the rare visitor sees row upon row of wondrous artifacts recovered in Superman’s long career against galactic evildoers. Most of these items are too dangerous for him to share with the human race.

But in the deep basements, where guests never go, two machines stand against a dark wall. Mechanically humming, the rightmost one vibrates while Superman, sitting naked on a stool, waits for his only superhero costume to finish drying.

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July 5, 2007

Jim: There Are No Free Lunches

Matter creation was hailed as mankind’s greatest invention. In size and shape, the household Genesis® resembled a microwave oven. Anything larger required too much power.

Yet practically any inanimate item that could fit inside the machine, from carrots to gold or flour to silk, would materialize from seemingly thin air when properly programmed. The world’s economies were shaken but poverty and hunger were eliminated virtually overnight.

Meanwhile, scientists from the Sceplemian homeworld isolated the destination of their planet’s increasingly missing mass. The Emperor rallied his armada and set forth to annihilate a small, rocky world orbiting a distant yellow star.

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July 9, 2007

Jim: Ship Happens II

“The Dutch brig ran low and slow,” Captain Carlisle began. “So when they sought refuge amongst the ice floes, I carefully steered the Madelaine in after them. I wouldn’t trust a midshipman with such delicate maneuvering.

“Night falls suddenly in those northern climes and it wrapped the frozen sea in an ebony blanket pored with bright stars that seemed close enough to pick straight from the heavens. Then the aurora appeared; a shimmering curtain of greens and reds that took my breath away.”

The admiral growled, “And that was when you ran your ship aground?”

“Yes, sir,” Carlisle quietly replied.

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