I'll get back to the mystery visitor shortly. However, first I'd like to share another thought on immigration. As I have mentioned here before, me and JC are quite close. So, I pondered whether Jesus would build a fence along the border or try to keep anyone out. It only took me a few seconds to come up with an answer that I was pretty confident with. How about you? What do you think JC would do?
Praise Jeebus!
Stevie Joe Parker
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Stevie Joe, The Pinkyshow, and Immigration
I've been meaning to write some about immigration, but then I found a great video that sort of wraps it all up nicely. Remember, cartoon cats don't lie.
Adios!
Stevie Joe Parker
Adios!
Stevie Joe Parker
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Stevie Joe and Ray - Part 3
Still Sunday, November 4, 2007 – Part 3
I knew that if I wanted to discover the identity of Fanny’s mystery guest, I was going to have to get myself inside of the Home in the Holler Bed and Breakfast. While I suppose that as a lodging establishment that it is indeed a public place, Fanny would be under no obligation to let me in. She has been known to lock the front door upon seeing me coming up her walk, especially if Junior was with me. That Fanny can be more than a bit moody.
After church and the resulting coffee hour, I was sitting on the front stoop pondering a plan to gain entrance to Fanny’s place. It was just then that I saw Junior’s dog, Junior Junior, trotting down the sidewalk with Junior’s Sunday trousers in his mouth. The thought of a trouser-less Junior wreaking havoc on the fine citizenry of Junebug Holler on such a lovely Sunday afternoon was frightening indeed. Suddenly, the mystery of Fanny’s guest took a backseat to the mystery of Junior’s trousers. Given his history, any number of events could have resulted in the loss of britches. However, most of these events involve alcohol, and Junior had seemed sober enough at the recent coffee hour. Not even Junior could get plastered that quickly on a Sunday afternoon.
Dickie Jensen, on the other hand, can down a few shots and be running nekkid through town screaming at the top of his lungs within minutes. Sometimes, he doesn’t even need the alcohol. His streaking and hollering are often precipitated by nothing more than an especially inflammatory edition of the O’Reilly Factor.
As I sat in deep concentration attempting to solve the riddle of Junior’s trousers, Dickie himself came running down the street carrying a fire extinguisher high above his head. He was hollering as usual, but I couldn’t understand a word of it. It was quite possible that he was speaking in tongues.
Damn! This is one helluva fun place to live,
Stevie Joe Parker
I knew that if I wanted to discover the identity of Fanny’s mystery guest, I was going to have to get myself inside of the Home in the Holler Bed and Breakfast. While I suppose that as a lodging establishment that it is indeed a public place, Fanny would be under no obligation to let me in. She has been known to lock the front door upon seeing me coming up her walk, especially if Junior was with me. That Fanny can be more than a bit moody.
After church and the resulting coffee hour, I was sitting on the front stoop pondering a plan to gain entrance to Fanny’s place. It was just then that I saw Junior’s dog, Junior Junior, trotting down the sidewalk with Junior’s Sunday trousers in his mouth. The thought of a trouser-less Junior wreaking havoc on the fine citizenry of Junebug Holler on such a lovely Sunday afternoon was frightening indeed. Suddenly, the mystery of Fanny’s guest took a backseat to the mystery of Junior’s trousers. Given his history, any number of events could have resulted in the loss of britches. However, most of these events involve alcohol, and Junior had seemed sober enough at the recent coffee hour. Not even Junior could get plastered that quickly on a Sunday afternoon.
Dickie Jensen, on the other hand, can down a few shots and be running nekkid through town screaming at the top of his lungs within minutes. Sometimes, he doesn’t even need the alcohol. His streaking and hollering are often precipitated by nothing more than an especially inflammatory edition of the O’Reilly Factor.
As I sat in deep concentration attempting to solve the riddle of Junior’s trousers, Dickie himself came running down the street carrying a fire extinguisher high above his head. He was hollering as usual, but I couldn’t understand a word of it. It was quite possible that he was speaking in tongues.
Damn! This is one helluva fun place to live,
Stevie Joe Parker
Stevie Joe and Ray - Part 2
Sunday, November 4, 2007 – Part 2
Since I am not one to be deterred, I continued my quest to determine the identity of Fanny’s mystery guest. At church today, murmurs floated throughout the congregation. Hardly a person could maintain focus on poor Pastor Luke’s sermon, which was about some New Testament thing or another. All in attendance, except for Fanny, were waiting with great anticipation for Coffee Hour when rumors would fly and theories would be tested.
Nearly before the doughnut boxes were opened, the various theories began to fly. Jimmy pondered, “Maybe, it’s Donald Trump scouting locations for a new casino.”
Juanita disagreed, “Why would Donald Trump drive such a crappy car?”
“Maybe, he’s traveling incognito,” Jimmy replied.
This caused Dickie Jensen to perk right up. “Possibly, but a man traveling incognito could also be a government agent, perhaps someone checking into the un-American activities of Stevie Joe over there,” he said with a finger pointing in my direction.
Junior jumped in with his own bit of detective work. “Ooh! Maybe, it’s Vincent Price! He’s mysterious.” Nobody was quite sure whether to inform Junior that Vincent Price was dead or to just ignore him. Dickie took the middle road and called him an idiot.
It had become apparent to me that nobody present, save Miss Fanny, had any clue whatsoever about the identity of our visitor. I was going to have to work on Fanny herself and possibly even infiltrate the Home-In-The-Holler Bed and Breakfast in order to solve this one.
More Stevie Joe and Ray is right around the bend,
Stevie Joe Parker
Since I am not one to be deterred, I continued my quest to determine the identity of Fanny’s mystery guest. At church today, murmurs floated throughout the congregation. Hardly a person could maintain focus on poor Pastor Luke’s sermon, which was about some New Testament thing or another. All in attendance, except for Fanny, were waiting with great anticipation for Coffee Hour when rumors would fly and theories would be tested.
Nearly before the doughnut boxes were opened, the various theories began to fly. Jimmy pondered, “Maybe, it’s Donald Trump scouting locations for a new casino.”
Juanita disagreed, “Why would Donald Trump drive such a crappy car?”
“Maybe, he’s traveling incognito,” Jimmy replied.
This caused Dickie Jensen to perk right up. “Possibly, but a man traveling incognito could also be a government agent, perhaps someone checking into the un-American activities of Stevie Joe over there,” he said with a finger pointing in my direction.
Junior jumped in with his own bit of detective work. “Ooh! Maybe, it’s Vincent Price! He’s mysterious.” Nobody was quite sure whether to inform Junior that Vincent Price was dead or to just ignore him. Dickie took the middle road and called him an idiot.
It had become apparent to me that nobody present, save Miss Fanny, had any clue whatsoever about the identity of our visitor. I was going to have to work on Fanny herself and possibly even infiltrate the Home-In-The-Holler Bed and Breakfast in order to solve this one.
More Stevie Joe and Ray is right around the bend,
Stevie Joe Parker
More Pondering Quotes from Stevie Joe
Now, I am a religious man. Me and JC are tight. We talk all the time. However, some folks tend to get a bug up their rears about mixing government and religion. These two quotes from a couple of Founders might clarify the matter a bit:
"The legitimate powers of government extend to such acts only as are injurious to others. But it does me no injury for my neighbour to say there are twenty gods, or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg."
--Thomas Jefferson, 1874
"The United States is in no sense founded upon the Christian Doctrine."
--George Washington
Amen,
Stevie Joe Parker
"The legitimate powers of government extend to such acts only as are injurious to others. But it does me no injury for my neighbour to say there are twenty gods, or no god. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg."
--Thomas Jefferson, 1874
"The United States is in no sense founded upon the Christian Doctrine."
--George Washington
Amen,
Stevie Joe Parker
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Stevie Joe and Ray - Part 1
Big things are afoot in Junebug Holler. So big, in fact, that I’m going to have to break this story down into smaller bits. Please bear with me.
Saturday, November 3, 2007 – Part 1
Fall is in full swing her in Junebug Holler. The leaves are all bright and yellow and crimson, and Junior has taken to passing out indoors. So, after a rousing breakfast of dry wheat toast and decaf coffee over at the Junebug Café and Internet Lounge, I elected to take a leisurely stroll through our sometimes-lovely little town.
I was not alone in my desire to spend some time outdoors on such a nice day. Jimmy and Juanita were watching the comings and goings of our local citizenry while sitting out on the bench down in front of the post office. Dickie Jensen was smartly dressed and carrying his “Bomb Iran Now!” sign whilst marching right down the main drag. Even Mrs. Stevie Joe got into the act by walking, rather than driving, down to Emma’s Beauty Parlor. As Mrs. Stevie Joe is not normally known for great physical activity, this was the rare sight indeed.
Right on the edge of town, just before you get to Mitchell’s Grove, is Fanny Frenchak’s Home in the Holler Bed and Breakfast, and what a beautiful place it is. Fanny has great talent in interior decorating, and the rooms at her place are something to see. Each has a unique theme from the Jungle Room to the Streetcar Named Desire Suite. Unfortunately, Junebug Holler is not exactly a tourist mecca. Fanny only gets a dozen or so guests a year which is a darned shame given the effort that she puts into the place.
Yet, on this fine fall day, there was indeed a car parked right in front of Fanny’s place. Looking to all of Junebug Holler like a spaceship from Mars was a beat-up old black Porsche 911 with New Mexico plates. Well, I figured that folks were going to notice that.
Naturally, I had to run back over to Trudy’s to get the latest gossip. If anyone in town was going to know what was going on, it would be Trudy. As proprietress of the Junebug Café and Internet Lounge, Trudy hears all the best rumors. While the information may not always be reliable, it’s always good.
So, back at the scene of the morning’s dry wheat toast, I asked Trudy, “What say ye?”
To which she replied, “What say me about what?”
“Why, the mysterious stranger in town, of course! What’s the poop?” I asked her.
“Still a mystery. Fanny ain’t talking.”
“Ain’t talking? Fanny? Are you sure? It’s not like her to keep quiet about anything,” I insisted.
“Well, you can ask her yourself because she’s walking right in the door.”
I turned to see plump little Fanny Frenchak squeeze through the door, look up to see me, spin on her heels, and walk right back out without missing a step.
“Now, wait here just a minute, Fanny!” I cried after her, but it was no use. She was gone, and it was quite clear that she was not up to sharing gossip.
More to come soon,
Stevie Joe Parker
Saturday, November 3, 2007 – Part 1
Fall is in full swing her in Junebug Holler. The leaves are all bright and yellow and crimson, and Junior has taken to passing out indoors. So, after a rousing breakfast of dry wheat toast and decaf coffee over at the Junebug Café and Internet Lounge, I elected to take a leisurely stroll through our sometimes-lovely little town.
I was not alone in my desire to spend some time outdoors on such a nice day. Jimmy and Juanita were watching the comings and goings of our local citizenry while sitting out on the bench down in front of the post office. Dickie Jensen was smartly dressed and carrying his “Bomb Iran Now!” sign whilst marching right down the main drag. Even Mrs. Stevie Joe got into the act by walking, rather than driving, down to Emma’s Beauty Parlor. As Mrs. Stevie Joe is not normally known for great physical activity, this was the rare sight indeed.
Right on the edge of town, just before you get to Mitchell’s Grove, is Fanny Frenchak’s Home in the Holler Bed and Breakfast, and what a beautiful place it is. Fanny has great talent in interior decorating, and the rooms at her place are something to see. Each has a unique theme from the Jungle Room to the Streetcar Named Desire Suite. Unfortunately, Junebug Holler is not exactly a tourist mecca. Fanny only gets a dozen or so guests a year which is a darned shame given the effort that she puts into the place.
Yet, on this fine fall day, there was indeed a car parked right in front of Fanny’s place. Looking to all of Junebug Holler like a spaceship from Mars was a beat-up old black Porsche 911 with New Mexico plates. Well, I figured that folks were going to notice that.
Naturally, I had to run back over to Trudy’s to get the latest gossip. If anyone in town was going to know what was going on, it would be Trudy. As proprietress of the Junebug Café and Internet Lounge, Trudy hears all the best rumors. While the information may not always be reliable, it’s always good.
So, back at the scene of the morning’s dry wheat toast, I asked Trudy, “What say ye?”
To which she replied, “What say me about what?”
“Why, the mysterious stranger in town, of course! What’s the poop?” I asked her.
“Still a mystery. Fanny ain’t talking.”
“Ain’t talking? Fanny? Are you sure? It’s not like her to keep quiet about anything,” I insisted.
“Well, you can ask her yourself because she’s walking right in the door.”
I turned to see plump little Fanny Frenchak squeeze through the door, look up to see me, spin on her heels, and walk right back out without missing a step.
“Now, wait here just a minute, Fanny!” I cried after her, but it was no use. She was gone, and it was quite clear that she was not up to sharing gossip.
More to come soon,
Stevie Joe Parker
Stevie Joe and the Cost of Healthcare
Largest Health Insurer in the US: UnitedHealth Group
UnitedHealth Group's CEO Pay in 2005: $122.7 Million
Number of people his salary could insure: 34,000
Not feeling so well,
Stevie Joe Parker
UnitedHealth Group's CEO Pay in 2005: $122.7 Million
Number of people his salary could insure: 34,000
Not feeling so well,
Stevie Joe Parker
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