I GET LETTERS_VOL. III

(Editor’s note: Today’s post is dedicated to my friend and co-worker Alex S., who is graduating on Saturday from the University of South Florida with a Bachelor of Science in Personal Financial Planning. The world was deprived of an outstanding human being when Alex wasn’t born twins, and I am as proud of him as if he were my own grandson. Congratulations, buddy, and damned fine job.)

Baphomet.

An interesting word, one that slides off the tongue in a manner that is at once lyrical and yet mildly obscene. (I knew a woman like that once.)

Baphomet is a deity that the Knights Templar were accused of worshipping back in 1307, the same year the Los Angeles Dodgers last won the World Series, during the inquisition of the now famous group of medieval knights by King Phillip the IV of France; the suppression, arrest and subsequent torture/death by burning at the stake of these warriors all commenced on Friday, October 13th, thus leading to the superstition of bad luck happening on that day…it was certainly true for the KTs that fateful Friday.

Rumors that President Donald “Tweety Bird” Trump and a number of Republican Senators are worshippers of the “Sabbatic Goat” are unsubstantiated but there is support for a full investigation into the matter by a number of Democratic Congresspersons in the House.

None of the above has the slightest thing whatsoever to do with the subject of today’s post, but I thought you might like to have the information nonetheless.

You’re welcome.

And speaking of things completely unrelated, I saw an ad for a weight loss program in the Tampa Bay Times (motto…All The News Occasionally) recently that featured both a picture of a curvaceous and very attractive young woman and a headline that read “Get the body you want”, and all I could think was, yeah, and how do I get her to cooperate?

Please insert the requisite rim-shot here.

As my regular readers are aware, I have a disdain for concise yet flowing segues, so I’ll not use one here and plunge ahead.

Lawrence Peter Berra, better known as “Yogi” to his millions of fans across the baseball world, was renowned for a number of things, not the least of which was a Hall of Fame MLB career spanning 19 years as a player, most of those as an 18 time All-Star catcher with the famed New York Yankees. Yogi was the American League MVP three times, in 1951, ’54 and ’55 and won 13 World Series rings, as both a player and a coach, which is still the record; the Yanks retired his number “8” back in ’72.

Yogi could play.

He was also known for his pithy and often hilarious statements about the great game of baseball, about life and about being a Yankee. He was credited with being the first to say, “It ain’t over ‘til it’s over” and “It’s just like déjà vu all over again” and “You better cut the pizza into four pieces, ‘cause I’m not hungry enough to eat six”. (I love that one.)

But the one quote that Berra was credited as saying is the one that applies to my post for today…

“Never answer an anonymous letter.”

Hardly a day passes here at the WATRUK blog that I, as the Captain and Master of the vessel R U Kidding, don’t receive a goodly number (one) of letters, postcards, emails, text messages, smoke-signals and secret decoder-ring communiques about something I have written previously; some are complimentary, and some take umbrage with my point of view. I don’t mind that they take umbrage, as long as they put it back where it belongs when they’re done.

So I thought that, in an effort to edify the vast sea of Cap’n John followers on what it’s like to be a major media figure/blogger in today’s 24/7 Internet world, I would share some of the more pathetic, excuse me, interesting missives that I have received lately.

Good luck stopping me now.

“Dear Scumbag Capen John:

                As presadent of the Arkansaw chapter of the Nashonal Union of Trump Supporterrs (NUTS) and a GOD FEARING MURICAN citizen, I think you’re a real asshole for righting ensulting articles about out GREAT presadent Donald Trump and sayin all kinds of rude things about His Emmanance like that there one you rote back in Febawary (BRINGING IN THE SHEEPS 3/21/19) callin Mr. Trump His Largeness and sayin that peepul who voted for him are his sheeps. MURICA don’t need no more libural shitwads like you, asswipe, and I hope you rot in hell.

                                Beanie N. Cecil, Presadent, Arkansaw Chapter,

                                Nashunal Union of Trump Supporterrs”

“T0: Cap’n John Krissongs

FROM: Bea L. Zebub, V.P., ROUND

RE: (Your blog post from 4/5/19)

I have been asked by the Executive Council of ROUND (Republicans Operating to Unify North Dakota) to address your comments in the subject post about several ND Republican legislators refusing to join in prayer to a heathen god led by a godless heathen from Nevada, one of the epicenters of sin and degradation here in America. By referring to the Great God Almighty as an “imaginary friend” and belittling our courageous representatives for not joining in when some pagan “cleric” offers some ungodly mumbo-jumbo to his heathen “god” as a “prayer” only goes to prove that you are nothing more than a unprincipled lying sinner that will burn in HELL for your apostasy. You not only stink, but I understand you have a small penis as well.

                                Sincerely,

                                Bea L. Zebub, V.P., ROUND”

“Mr. Cap’n John Krissongs:

                My name is Warren Peace and I am the Marketing Vice President for Major League Soccer, and I’m writing today to complain about your comments on our organization in your post from the 5th of April, comparing MLS members to “sissy vegetarians, vegans or some other Commie, pinko nonsense”. Despite your insulting remarks, including saying that MLS did not have an official hamburger, such as Wendys being the Official Hamburger of the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament, but instead had an Official Tofu, which apparently was some kind of reference to the fans of soccer being major wusses, as lovers of the great game of “football” we know that even though it looks like a sissy game with a bunch of “players” running back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, like ants all over an anthill, soccer is a fabulous sport along the same lines as the almost as exciting game of golf. If you persist in maligning MLS, we will be forced to boycott the WATRUK blog, bring about sanctions against you personally and even go as far as to have your peenie whacked. I must close now; it’s time for my prune/beet/squash kombucha. And no, MLS does NOT stand for Major Little Sweeties.

                                Warren Peace, MLS”

“Cap’n John:

                I’m a big fan of the Welcome Aboard The R U Kidding blog, and I really enjoy your writing, but I was very disappointed in your remarks about Bill Murray in your post “OSCAR (AND HIS OTHER YOUNGER COUSIN ARNOLD)”. I’ve followed Bill’s career since his days with SNL and I think he’s one of the funniest men on this planet or any other. So your saying that he “pretty much played the same character in about 200 movies” was really a low blow and totally unfair to Mr. Murray. Anyone that knows anything about his films knows that he played the same character in no more than a 150 movies, tops. I’d like to take you out behind the “Caddyshack” and kick you in the “Meatballs”, and “Groundhog Day” is not a sale on Thursdays at your local butcher shop.

                                Lacy Underwear, Punxsutawny PA

“Hey Cap’n John”

                Dude, great tip about how to remove a bra with only one hand in last week’s column (OF BRASSIERES AND BIBLE STORIES). I tried it on my girlfriend the other night while we were having dinner with her folks at this swanky Chili’s restaurant and it worked excellent. So now my gf says I ruined her fave white blouse because when I released her “chest baskets” her boobs dropped onto her plate, right in the middle of her Italian linkwienie or whatever it’s called and she’s really pissed and won’t talk to me. I was going to try it on her Mom but she moved back from the table too fast. You da’ man, bubba.

                                Cliff Hanger, Mammary Falls NY”

I have many more just like the above (or worse), but for the sake of brevity, a drummer to whose beat I rarely march, I will close here…no point to prolonging the agony.

Love and postage stamps,

Cap’n John

TWINS SEPARATED AT BIRTH??? YOU DECIDE.