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Witness to terror.

There's a toad in the Four Corners area of the Southwest, whose skin secretes a poison when it's frightened. So, the deal is, if you attempt to pick up one of these amphibians, it will start cranking out this noxious fluid to repel you back to the gnarled tree stump from which you crawled. Now, if you lick this toad sweat, you will experience a hallucinogenic high. This practice has become so widespread, some states have made licking this toad a crime.

Did you hear what I just said? They had to pass a law against toad-licking. Before you have a law, you have to have a pretty serious problem, right? Now I just have a few questions here.

Number one: Exactly how high do you already have to be in order to lick a sweaty toad?

Two: How many animal/fluid mixtures did these pharmacological pioneers go through before they stumbled onto the correct formula? "Bring on the weepy wolverine if you will." "And now, the hedgehog with the sniffles, please." "Viola, ear wax from the rare albino dwarf goat. Going to need a bong for this."

And three: Do you think this procedure could be accomplished with small members of the salamander family? I'm thinking of newts in particular. A certain Newt to be specific. The squeezing thing. Someone fax Carville. It's worth a shot.

* Boston, Massachusetts, where Roger Clemens promised to retire after the Red Sox win the pennant this year. Yeah, and I promise to sprout gills after the ice caps melt. So the heaviest of the weighted ones wandered up to New Hampshire to announce his candidacy for President. Bob Dole is considered the frontrunner, due to the fact that he has amassed the largest stockpile of personalities to choose from while running. "Mr. Malignant," the cute little character he ran as during the 1988 elections, has allegedly been retired. But many sources say Newt Gingrich obtained a copyright on the persona, so the best we'll probably see in the next eighteen months is "Mr. Measles," while Phil Gramm dons the "Mr. Ebola Virus" garb. The Kansan ran in 1980 as the "Plains Moderate," but was crushed by Ronald Reagan's "Mr. Magoo," and in 1976, as Gerald Ford's running mate, he and Fritz Mondale both played "Mr. Sominex" in the first Vice Presidential debate, a tape of which is still used by all the major sleep-disorder clinics as the ultimate litmus test.

* San Francisco, in the state of California, which believes if the bombers had taken out the Los Angeles County Courthouse, they'd be on talk shows as national heroes. How do you do jokes after the massive tragedy that struck the Midwest? Of course, I'm talking about Richard Lugar announcing his candidacy for the Republican nomination for President. I'm sure I speak for all Americans when I extend our most heartfelt sympathies to the grief-stricken citizens of Indianapolis, Indiana. You know, it's in these times of crisis when we forget our party affiliation and pull together as a people that makes me proud to be an American. That and my daily dose of Zoloft.

I'm so glad the Oklahoma bad guys were white. Right away the talk shows were full of: "Those stinkin' Arabs. We should vaporize Baghdad with a ton of Tomahawks right now. Oh, they were rightwing rednecks? Just kidding." The media started it. Had to report something, so the two guys running away from the scene were Middle Eastern-looking, which in Oklahoma means what? They had curly hair? They appeared to have southern Illinois roots? Like to have heard Hard Copy skewing that interview. "No towel, no beard, and a blond crew-cut, huh? How 'bout his nose? Would he look out of place in Aladdin?" The networks had logos within an hour. CNN went with Terror in the Heartland, which they should have saved for the Iowa caucuses. CBS went with Witness to Terror, which many thought was the network programmer's report on its season. And who directs the composer who records the theme music? "Okay, so we want somber, but patriotic, and hopeful, with perhaps six bars from the overture of the musical. Maybe start out happy and then bottom out, you know, "OOOOOKla boom boom boom."

* Phoenix, Arizona, where they're such ornery cusses, they refuse to adjust to daylight-saving time: `Don't you get it? They're messing with our time, man. Next, it'll be distance, and then energy and mass, and pretty soon everything we know will be wrong . . .' The Feds have ruled out certain white-supremacy groups as suspects in the Oklahoma bombing because they say the organizational skills to orchestrate the intricate planning were beyond their ken. Does that mean our native terrorists are so remedial they can't concoct a scheme to purchase an abundance of fertilizer?

"Morning, Frank. I'd like a hedge-trimmer and sixty board feet of two-by-fours cut in three-foot sections and, oh yeah, how 'bout 1200 pounds of ammonium nitrate. Oh, you know, moles. Goddam DEA motherlovin' snitch moles who will rot for eternity in maggot hell soon. Oops. Heh heh. Say, you wouldn't happen to know if Butch still sells diesel fuel in those fifty-five-gallon drums with the detonatable spigots, now would ya?"

Wonder if the first security precaution Congress mandates is to require stool samples for the quantity purchase of fertilizer?

* San Francisco, where they've finally taken notice of the Oklahoma bombing because a local guy died there. `World War ill Starts. . . Fog Returns.' The Utah Jazz. It's a basketball team. In Utah. Called the Jazz. Because you know whenever I think of a swinging fusion sound, Salt Lake City and those wacky Mormons spring instantly to mind. OK, OK, I know, the team moved from New Orleans, which made sense. The New Orleans Jazz. But why didn't they change the name to something more appropriate when they moved? The Utah Canyons, perhaps, or the Utah Salt Licks, or something indigenous. The Salt Lake City Caucasian Stouthearts. What could be a less representative name than Utah Jazz? Perhaps the Vermont Hustle. The New York Whispers. The Ames Iowa Commotion. The Minneapolis Cholos. The Sacramento Cool. The Las Vegas Subtleties. The Southern California Innocence. The Miami Ice. The Boise Sophisticates. The New Jersey Charm. The Mississippi Mensa. The Washington Scruples. The San Francisco Breeders, and of course my all-time favorite, the Los Angeles Lakers. The Milwaukee Sobrieties would be funny if I wasn't from there. No, it's still funny.
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Title Annotation:humor - Oklahoma City federal building bombing
Author:Durst, Will
Publication:The Progressive
Article Type:Column
Date:Jun 1, 1995
Previous Article:The Far Right is upon us.
Next Article:Bringing choice to med school.

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