Barry Parham's Blog: The Mooncalf Communion, page 40

Bread, Milk and Bombogenesis

(Life in the Two-Feet-Deep South)

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Last week, here in South Carolina, it snowed again. That’s twice now this decade.

This is getting out of hand.

And all across the arctically-afflicted areas, we reacted according to the time-honored script:

Buy bread & milk
Race to the ATM and get some cash (in case we lose power and have to buy bread & milk from the trunk of some guy’s car)
Close the schools (which is stupid because they’re loaded with bread & milk)
Drive too fast and rear-end a car…in t...

Pictures in Search of a Caption

Parents, I don’t care how soon you’re coming back, you never ever EVER leave your pets in a hot car. Ever.
“Yeah, we’ll get to the cow. But what are you doing on the Kremlin’s lawn?”
When Cows Don’t Yield
“Traction,” pointed out Wisconsin’s #1 BMW salesman. “It’s all about traction.”
It was a cautionary tale. When the police arrived, the texting-addicted cow was still holding the cellphone.
“What can I tell you, judge,” Mother Goose snapped. “After they jump over the moon, they have to land somewh...

I Left My Heart in Slavyansk-na-Kubani

(Entertainment? Or indigestion? Tough call.)

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Late last Thursday, I think I watched the opening ceremonies of the 2014 Winter Olympics. Either that or I was having an enchilada-induced hallucination.

(Note to self: ix-nay on that new Tex-Mex place at the food court, the Peyote Grill.)

I do remember tuning the television to NBC, just in time to catch them wistfully firing Jay Leno for the third time. But what I saw was not some alpine fairyland of skates and ski lifts, snow and sleds. D...

Why Children Shouldn’t Run with Caesars

(Julius, we hardly knew ye)

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One of my resolutions for this new year’s orbit was to read more books. That, and marry a furiously rich blind woman who lives on a different continent.

I did find some books.

It was a realization that kind of crept up on me, but I’ve discovered that, in my ongoing war to write a humor column every week, one of the bloodied casualties has been unfettered time to read. Of course, I’m sure many other staggeringly successful money-raking artistes struggle with...

My Worst Job Ever

(Yet.)

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Once upon a time, I had a job, and my boss was a bipolar dwarf.

It didn’t really work out.

We called the dwarf Turbeaux — not to his face, of course. We called him Turbeaux about a foot above his face.

Because, you know, he’s a dwarf.

Turbeaux was a vile little creature with a Montana-sized temper and a Barbados-sized fuse. I’d taken a job as a website developer for an ad agency, and Turbeaux had somehow managed to get himself hired as head of the department, apparently because h...

The Gnaw Christie Minstrels

(Some people are guilty until proven guilty.)

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This just in: according to an unnamed source, New Jersey’s chronically evil Governor has unleashed a global-killing virus, sacked Rome, and eaten a raw goat.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Chris Christie – America’s current political piñata.

By now, you don’t need me to recount the gory details of “Bridge-gate,” the cruel, vile, heartless scandal that’s shadowing Jersey’s chief executive like Oprah tracking a donut…the story’s gotten more cove...

Gullible’s Travels

(Count, chant, and what? Oh, yeah. Breathe.)

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Okay, gather round, everybody. Here’s another tip from our popular series, How Not To Get Slapped By Strangers!

Tip #63: if you ever do manage to fully align your seven chakras, don’t go to the movies. Remember – once those chakras are synced up, your aura’s gonna be radiating like crazy, and it’s distracting during the romantic scenes.

(Knock it off with the chanting, too.)

One of the advantages…okay, one of the side-effects of social media...

Rose Bowling for Dollars

(Which one’s the ‘gay marriage’ float? Oh. Never mind.)

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Every year’s end, it happens. No, not another “Die Hard” sequel. It’s the BCS: the college football bowl season — a heavily-broadcasted intercollegiate tournament that will decide next year’s team rankings via the time-tested statistical method of students flying to another State and drinking all the beer that exists in that time zone.

Just before Christmas all across America, colleges, universities, and snack food conglomerates...

Sticks and Stones Are Words, Too

(Boy, you can not say that again!)

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Oh, good. As if us aging single guys didn’t have enough social pressure already, now there’s an official way to correctly misspell words.

Srsly.

Yes, the vowel-phobic abbreviation srsly (short for seriously) is now an acceptable word — along with other Scrabble-challengers, like derp, twerking, and fauxhawk — thanks to the definition deans at Oxford Dictionary, the world’s only lexicon named after a shoe.

That rush-rush shortcut and others, like 2011′...

I’m Dreaming of a White Santa

(A duck. A fox. A donkey. It must be Christmas!)

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Earth. Christmas 2013. A full year has now passed since the Mayan Apocalypse didn’t happen, possibly due to the fact that their calendar was a rock. Or maybe the Mayans got a last-minute health care exemption.

So we’re still here. But, from the Milky Way’s perspective, was it worth it? Let’s review.

In America, shoppers are stabbing each other over who gets the Dollar Store’s only remaining Peace Sign necklace. In China, acres of acne-a...