Back To Work
‘Puter’s been AWOL on posting for a while. Sorry. Christmas, kids, spouse, family, dogs and general malaise conspire against ‘Puter.
Quick update, for those who care. ‘Puter took off two weeks at the end of the year and still lost vacation time. ‘Puter needs to reexamine his priorities.
‘Puter and Mrs. ‘Puter spent a lovely afternoon in the Greater DC Metroplex with GorT and Mrs. GorT reminiscing about the good old days and mocking our children for being no talent a§§-clowns. Good times.
‘Puter visited his 99 year old grandmother at her (actually quite nice) nursing home, where he heard some great old time DC stories. One has her working in the OEOB at the Department of War in the coding/decoding division during WWII, banging out 120 words per minute on a manual typewriter. Eat that, IBM Selectric! Also, a great story about the public beach at the Tidal Basin back in her youth. Catching up with family is nice.
Unfortunately, no run in with Volgi and family. They were much missed on the ‘Puter family road trip.
‘Puter promises to post more frequently now that it’s back to the every day grind. Maybe the sun will come out Upstate soon, though ‘Puter’s not counting on it.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.