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Ah
got some o' tha kinda makup that actors use an' a afro kind of wig.
Thought ah'd disguise maself. That's 'cause they had cameras in the
waitin' room at tha hospital. Went ta tha Goodwill an' bought a old
suit an' a shirt. Got 'em too big fer me. Got some bubble wrap
an' fixed it inside tha shirt. With ma wig an' makup an' tha padded
suit ah looked like a big black guy that wuz mostly muscle. Ah'm
white, skinny, an' baldheaded. Nobody'd ever know it wuz me.
Don't like ta blame no black folks fer ma pranks but it seemed like a good
disguise so that's what ah did. So march aroun' me with picket signs.
Got a big briefcase an' cut tha bottom out an' took out tha little numbers fer tha lock right under tha handle. Ah put some string 'round ma fake bomb. Ah could put tha fake bomb in tha briefcase, poke tha string through where ah'd took out tha numbers, shut tha briefcase, an' pick up tha briefcase with ma finger hooked through tha loop o' string. Holdin' tha string ah could carry tha briefcase aroun' an' nobody'd ever know they was a fake bomb in it. Ah practiced with ma makeup an' tha suit fer several days, carryin' tha briefcase 'round tha house, sittin' it down an' pickin' it up again without tha string, lettin' tha fake bomb out through tha bottom o' tha briefcase. Ah practiced mostly on things that wuz 'bout tha same height as tha little table by Fran's counter. Ever time ah saw maself in a mirror ah had ta laugh. Looked like some NAACP lawyer. Ah went out an' got some wrier glasses, jus' fer laughs. While ah'd been buildin' tha fake bomb, ah figgered out a good way ta git rid o' tha scraps, pieces o' dowel, tha buckets with tha rest o' tha paint, tha brush, and all o' tha other little stuff that 'ud be left when ah wuz done. Right acrost tha street they wuz a house where a deputy DA lived. Tha guy was a thug. Everbody knew he lied, lost evidence, faked evidence, anything he could do ta git a conviction. Hell, he bragged 'bout it at parties after he'd had 'nuff ta drink. Didn't care if somebody'd done somethin' 'er not, just wanted ta put guys in jail. Had 'is eye on tha DA's job. Ah'd had ma eye on him but ah hadn't figgered out nuthin' ta do 'bout 'em. Then ah figgered out sumpthin'. Him an' ma scraps wuz jus' made fer each other. Ah started cumulatin' tha scraps in a big plastic bag. All tha time ah was workin' on ma prank, ah kept goin' over ta tha hospital, mostly just walkin' aroun' an' eatin' in tha cafeteria. Ah noticed that nobody paid me no mind. Ah just walked through tha waitin' room inta tha hospital, long as it was visitin' hours, ah might as well o' been invisible. Ah even went several times in ma disguise, carryin' ma briefcase. Nobody ever looked at me twice. So when tha day o' tha prank came, ah put on ma makeup an' ma wig, walked in wearin' ma business suit an' carryin' ma briefcase, an' asked Fran fer help. She didn't even look at me, jus' tol' me ta sign in an' wait. New deal. Ya hadta sign in 'fore ya could wait. Real service upgrade. Ah sat ma briefcase on tha little table, made a few fake passes at the sign-in paper, didn't touch nothin, didn't look at tha camera, picked up tha briefcase, lifted it off tha fake bomb, an' walked out. Fran wouldn' know me from Adam. Ah went home an' turned on tha TV. Somebody musta spotted ma fake bomb right quick 'cause it wuz all over tha TV by tha time ah got home. They wuz a news crew showin' tha whole thing. They was people standin 'round all over tha place. Ah loved it when they talked ta Fran. Naturally they did that, with her name on tha bomb. She was all tears, couldn't understand why nobody'd be mad at her. Ah saw some people in hospital uniforms make funny faces in tha background when she said that. Ah had ta laugh. But it got even better. Tha cops cleared everbody way back an' them bomb squad goons came tippytoein' out with a big box that they carried like it had grandma's best china. After they put it in their big van, the lady reporter busted through tha police line an' collered one o' tha bomb squad goons. She ast him 'bout tha bomb. He looked like he wuz real important. Said it wuz a real professional job, probly done by Al Kada. Ah laughed 'til ma belly hurt. But tha best wuz still ta come. They took tha box ta a big empty lot they had outa town, where they practiced bomb stuff, an' let tha news crew watch from a distance while they 'sploded tha thing. Wasn't ma fake bomb, went off like Oklahoma City. Timmy woulda loved 'em fakin' it like that. Made me laugh 'til ah almos' passed out. Ah sure miss Timmy. Them bomb squad goons mighta been able ta strut some stuff 'bout tha bomb they 'sploded, saved tha hospital from gittin' blowed up, For PayPal payments, use editor@frontiersman.my3website.net.
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but they knew ma bomb wuz fake. They jus'
wasn' tellin' nobody an' they didn't know who ah wuz. Ah figgered
they'd be huntin' fer me, ta git me outa circulation 'fore ah could spill
tha beans. Probly shoot me while ah wuz tryin' ta 'scape. Ha
ha. They knew how ma fake bomb wuz built an' they might find some
clues no matter how careful ah'd been. They knew what ta look fer.
So, soon's tha fun on tha TV wuz over, ah cooked up a big batch o' bacon,
ate some of it an' put tha rest in ma big plastic bag with ma leftover
bomb parts. Ah dumped some bacon grease on tha outside o' tha bag.
Early next mornin', 'fore sunup, ah went over ta tha deputy DA's house
an' left tha bag by his house, on tha side away from his driveway.
Then ah sat on a bar stool in ma front room an' watched through tha window
'til he left fer work. When he wuz gone, they hadn't been no dogs
messin' 'round so ah went along tha block an' opened a few gates fer yards
that had dogs in 'em. Didn't take 'em long ta find tha bacon.
Purty soon, they wuz trash all over tha deputy DA's front yard, most of
it left over from makin' a fake bomb. Next, ah got one o' ma spare
cell phones, got several that ah ain't never used, "acquired" 'em, as they
say, drove acrost town an' called 911. Told 'em they wuz 'nother
bomb over there, gave 'em tha address. Threw tha cell phone in tha
river an' drove home.
By tha time ah got back, tha street wuz fulla cops. They wuz all over tha deputy DA's house like ticks on a dog. They took all tha trash away in a van. Ah heard later, on tha news, that they 'rested tha deputy DA at work, right outa his office. Wish ah coulda seen that. Ah don't know what they'll charge 'im with, maybe nothin'. Ah don't 'spect my phony evidence'll 'mount ta much, onst they look at it careful. Even if it did, he'd probly git off, crooked as tha courts is, but it was worth a little extra trouble ta have 'im hauled away in handcuffs. Might make it harder fer 'im ta git that DA job. An', it wuz a good way ta git rid o' tha scraps. Ah figgured that since the little county hospital 'ad become ah Al Kada target, the homeland security crap wuz gonna git pretty deep around town. An' them bomb squad goons was 'nother problem. They'd be gunnin' fer me. It wuz time fer me ta leave. I made sure tha rent an' utilities wuz paid ahead, just so's nobody'd think ah wuz leavin'. Ah hired tha kid next door ta collect ma newspapers fer me, and mow tha yard. Told 'em ah'd be gone a coupla months. Left payment with 'is folks, ta give 'em later. I set some timers ta turn things on an' off in the house. Then ah loaded ma stuff inta tha Hummer an' hit tha road. It wasn't ma best prank ever, but it was fun. Yaaaahoooo! The Dirty Trickster riiiiides again!
Stray Thoughts Sam Aurelius Milam III Better Standards — I get tired of hearing people gloat that this is the best country in the world. Is it better than Afghanistan? Is it better than Brazil? Is it better than China? It doesn't have to be very good to be better than the sorry examples found elsewhere around the world. I use a higher standard of comparison. Compared to the fundamental principles of liberty, this country is just another police state. Old Timer's Lore
— editor
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Acknowledgments My thanks to the following: SantaClara Bob; Lady Jan the Voluptuous; my mother; and Dewey and Betty. — editor
Court Quotes From Humor in the Court and More Humor in the Court, by Mary Louise Gilman, editor of the National Shorthand Reporter. Forwarded by Don G.
Funny One-Liner Original Source Unknown. Forwarded by Don G. Two silkworms who were in a race ended up in a tie. Random Act of Stupidity
Frontiersman Subscriptions and Back Issues — Printed copies of this newsletter, either subscriptions or back issues, are available by application only. Cancellations — If you don't want to keep receiving this newsletter, then return it unopened. When I receive it, I'll terminate your subscription. Reprint Policy — Permission is hereby granted to reproduce this newsletter in its entirety or to reproduce material from it, provided that the reproduction is accurate and that proper credit is given. I do not have the authority to give permission to reprint material that I have reprinted from other sources. For that permission, you must go to the original source. I would appreciate receiving a courtesy copy of any document or publication in which you reprint my material. Submissions — I solicit letters, articles, and cartoons for the newsletter, but I don't pay for them. Short items are more likely to be printed. I suggest that letters and articles be shorter than 500 words but that's flexible depending on space available and the content of the piece. Payment — This newsletter isn't for sale. If you want to make a voluntary contribution, then I prefer cash, prepaid telephone cards, or U.S. postage stamps. For checks or money orders, please inquire. For PayPal payments, use editor@frontiersman.my3website.net. The continued existence of the newsletter will depend, in part, on such contributions. I don't accept anything that requires me to provide ID to receive it. In case anybody's curious, I also accept gold, silver, platinum, etc. — Sam Aurelius Milam III, editor
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