[Dixielandjazz] Fwd: Secretary of Arts for USA

[BillSargentDrums at aol.com]

<<  
Meanwhile I booked a Chili cook off next Saturday night with my Latin  act.  
It's not for a huge amount of pay but as with any gig there is always  the 
possibility of spin offs, those strings I talked about.
 
Hey come on..... quit laughing.  I will get paid and get all the  chili I can 
eat too.  OLAY !!!
Larry
St.Louis >>
 
Speaking of Chili . . . this just in >>>>>>>
 
Killer Chili

I went grocery shopping recently while not being  altogether sure that course 
of action was a wise one. You see, the previous  evening I had prepared and 
consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'you're  definitely going to $h!t 
yourself' chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point  of being painful, which 
comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat  it, the next day both 
of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.

Here's the  thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of 
coffee (and all  of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's 
Movement 2'. Despite  habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal 
tract, I was unable to  create the usual morning symphony referred to by my next 
door neighbors as  'thunder and lightning'.

Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come,  yet not sure of just when, I 
bravely set off for the market, a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often 
haunt in  search of tasty tidbits.

Upon entering the store at first all seemed  normal. I selected a cart and 
began pushing it about dropping items in for  purchase. It wasn't until I was at 
the opposite end of the store from the  restrooms that the pain hit me.

Oh, don't look at me like you don't know  what I'm talking about. I'm 
referring to that 'Uh, Oh, gotta go' pain that  always seems to hit us at the wrong 
time. The thing is, this pain was  different.

The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging  a revolt. In a 
mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small  intestines, 
forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take  one step 
in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it  happened. 
The peppers fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the  spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a 
noxious cloud the likes of which  has never before been recorded. I was afraid 
to move for fear that more of this  vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so 
slowly, the pressure seemed to leave  the lower part of my body, and I began 
to move up the aisle and out of it, just  as an elderly woman turned into it.

I don't know what made me do it, but  I stopped to see what her reaction 
would be to the malodorous effluvium that  refused to dissipate. Have you ever 
been torn in two different directions  emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm 
sure some of you at least will be able  to relate.

I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched  as she walked 
into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so  terrible 
that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to  stand 
there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward  off 
angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.  
.......BIG mistake!!!!!

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to  keep things 'clamped down', 
if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an  explosive issue burst forth 
from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing  that I was later told a 
few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that  someone was robbing the 
store and firing off a shotgun.

Suddenly things  were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off 
through the store towards  the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, 
praying that I'd make it  before the grand mal assplosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in  the nick of time I got to the john, began the 
inevitable 'Oh my God', floating  above the toilet seat because my ass is 
burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow  walked in while I was in the middle of 
what is the true meaning of 'Shock and  Awe' . He made a gagging sound, and 
disgustedly said, 'Sonofabitch!', then  quickly left.

Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially  filled cart 
intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee  approached me and 
said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes.  It appears some 
prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is  going to run the 
vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care  of the problem.'

That of course set me off again, causing residual gases  to escape me. The 
employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to  cover his nose 
and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!',  then ran off 
returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously  escorted from 
the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.

Home  again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat 
but  leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop 
at  Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over 
the  whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the store.. 

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