Mar 11, 2011

Entire Town Boycotts Yogurt After Learning That It Is Somehow Mysteriously Made With “Culture”

The humble and lowly Town of Lamont, known in farm/ranch circles as the “Pull My Finger” capitol of the Palouse, once again took a bold, brave, some might say ‘devil-may-care’ stance against modernity when word leaked out that the smooth, creamy, satisfying, calcium-rich dairy staple, yogurt, was in fact laced with what all pretty much agree to be the town’s ultimate nemesis – that scourge of small town America across all of – well - America – some kind of doggone ‘culture’ or whatever. “Ah, heck! Just what in tarnation can a feller trust now-a-days?” bemoaned Chester Festoon, 56, an area farmer/rancher! “There I was, getting ready to dip one of my freshly opened BBQ pork rinds into a cool, smooth, sweet, fruity container of strawberry yogurt when out of nowhere the wife mockingly shouts “Yo, Chester, you know that that dern yogurt is made with 'culture', don’t ya”? (she even did that 'finger quotation' thing for added emphasis and profound humiliation effect!) Oh, as if it is not bad enough being married to some loud-mouthed gossip who ain’t used a dadburned vacuum since 1973 and who spends all her time running down the Town of Lamont with her battle axe, mannish, troll-like friends, but for her to go running off ruining my favorite delicious snack treat combination – well, that is just plain cruel and mean-spirited!” he whined/snivelled indignantly. “Heck, I was watching the highlight tape of Lamont’s ‘Pull My Finger – 2006’ competition where that Jed Festoon and old rascal Scooter Bodine, both only sporting one arm as you know, well, them dern fellers walked up to each other, just as cool as you please, then they each held out their one remaining hand and said, simultaneously (That means 'at the same time'!) “Pull My Finger”… Oh, talk about irony! Talk about suspense! Talk about a battle royale of wills to see who would flinch and pull first! The tension was overwhelming! (he gasped!) The human experience doesn't get any more stark and intense than that, let me tell you! Anyway, of course it was at that exact doggone second that the ever faithful wife, never one for feminine niceties, chose to rain on my pork rind parade! Darn that woman! I mean, I am as against 'culture' as much as the next true-blue, long-time Lamontazoid, because as we all know with it comes all them 'big city repercussions' and all, but that don't mean you have to go running around ruining a man's snack-time pleasures, for Pete's sake! Maybe she should spend all her time out running down the town with her haggish friends, after all! She sure enough vexes me plenty when she is underfoot at home, always looking for ways to emasculate a man, dagnab it!" he fumed! (Editorial Note: as the one-armed Mr. Festoon and Mr. Bodine proves, drinking several 12-packs and driving a tractor like it was the Indy 500 is not a very good idea! Tractor wisely, people! I mean, come on! It ain't like the cows won't wait for a spell!!)

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