'Puter Laid Low - The Gormogons

Blogging may be light from ‘Puter for the next couple of days. He is laid up at home with a slipped disc, a recurrence/aggravation of an injury he’s had since law school. His worst case, until now, was two years ago which resolved over the course of several months with rest, medication and physical therapy. Let this be a lesson not to clear brush, plant a garden and operate a smoker all on the same weekend. On a personal note, ‘Puter never thought much for physical therapy until his injury, but he credits the PT, along with the passage of time, for his healing.

On another personal note, ‘Puter would like to thank his wife and family for their help getting him out of bed and to the crapper in a timely fashion. Thanks for ignoring the screams of pain and muffled curses. Thanks for being there.

‘Puter’s horribly frustrated. There’s nothing worse than being unable to get up off the floor in front of your kids with tears of pain and frustration streaming down one’s face. Especially when ‘Puter’s only in his early 40s. ‘Puter had hoped to save the uncontrollable body functions until well into his 80s, so his kids would have to take care of him. ‘Puter will recover, and be better than ever. Have no doubt. ‘Puter doesn’t. In fact, ‘Puter’s going to use this time for self-improvement. Liposuction, tattoo removal, a theology degree. ‘Puter’s got plans.

And, in advance, thanks for all your prayers and well-wishes.

'Puter

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.