Clarence, NY—For years Clarence residents, Frank & Marie Stonefinger, Teddy & Stephanie Woppelganger and John & Stella Hobbletree have gotten together twice a month for dinner and drinks. But in this unique Covid year the friends’ routine has been severely disrupted, to the point they hadn’t gathered since the waning days of summer. To remedy this they constructed a carefully planned, masked, socially distanced pre-Thanksgiving dinner at the Woppleganger’s house. Prior to the dinner the couples also quarantined for two-weeks, but it was all for naught when Frank took a giant and embarrassing shit in the half-bathroom adjacent to the Woppleganger’s dining area.

The Wednesday night dinner started out in a typical way with drinks, laughs and a little passive-aggressive bullshit on the part of Stella, who always seemed to out shop Marie and Stephanie. This time it was on some throw pillows which Stella bought for $12.99 on Amazon while Stephanie paid $14.99 at Home Goods for the exact same product. Stephanie defended the purchase with an extreme eye roll and by saying she liked to touch things before she bought them. But otherwise, it was a good night till just before dinner when Frank took his giant shit. 

One of the guys in Frank’s contracting company had brought in a bunch of cured deer jerky from a recent kill, which Frank had been downing with hot sauce during the day as if they were skittles dipped in crystal meth. That, coupled with the Super Mighty pack-double jalapenos-he inhaled Tuesday night led to the explosion. His wife Marie, knew there was going to be trouble when she heard him yell ‘Whoa” from inside the bathroom as they sat down to eat. Her fears were confirmed when the rank odor of million year old rotten eggs started to emanate from the bathroom as Frank opened the door a crack to ask the Woppleganger’s where they kept the plunger. After some banging around Frank emerged from the restroom looking whiter than armed protesters gathering on the steps Michigan state house saying, “Taco Tuesday, what a bitch.” 

The men laughed covering their noses on top of the masks they were already wearing as the smell of the rotten eggs morphed into the aroma of a thousand set on fire assholes assaulted the dining area. They went forward with the meal despite some coughing and choking, but after Stephanie ran into the yard to vomit, Frank’s wife Marie suddenly felt a migraine coming on and asked to go home. When Frank objected, just as the color was coming back into his face, Marie shot him the same deadly look as when they were first dating and he made an off color remark about the shape of his future mother-in-law’s ass.

Both Stella and Stephanie played along with the fake migraine story saying how sorry they were that they had to leave and then ran to open every window in the house. Later, after the house had aired out a bit, the Wopplegangers and the Hobbletrees stood in awe around the toilet as the porcelain bowl seemed to be dissolving from the shit Frank had dropped earlier. Teddy quipped, “This is the science experiment I always wanted to do in grade school.”

After being harangued by Marie all the way home Frank was made to sleep in the garage where remnant ass vapors ate through his boxers and sweatpants. 

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Cheektowaga, NY—The life of Ostanti Grosz, an overnight manager at the Union Road, Storage Plus, has changed in a big way since the onset of the Covid 19. Prior to the crisis the socially awkward Grosz had difficulty connecting with people, but now with social distancing and mask orders in place the forty-two year old Cheektowaga native is thriving.

“I’ve always just been kind of weird and nervous,” Grosz said from his home on Vern Lane. “Every time I’d greet a woman with a hug, her boob would somehow end up in my hand. Every time I’d try to kiss someone hello my tongue would end up in their mouth. Do you know what it’s like to french kiss your grandpa? Yeah, it’s a weird sickening mess, that’s what it is.”

These disastrous interactions have sapped Grosz’s confidence and his willingness to participate in life, leaving him with little more than his lonely job at Storage Plus and on-line gaming. But the pandemic has provided new opportunities for Grosz. Without the pressure to shake hands or interpret facial expressions he has taken chances and been more adventurous.

So much so, Laura, the Aldi’s cashier with the sexy crooked teeth and the Blondie tattoo, started to talk to him. Though she’s been checking his grocery’s for years she never really noticed him, but with his mask on she saw that he had pretty eyes and told him so. The next time she checked him out Grosz clumsily asked her out. 

Their first date consisted of getting tested for Covid at the drive thru site in the Key Bank Center. After they had their noses swabbed, they shared a socially distanced coffee sitting on the hood of Laura’s car. Grosz, of course, spilled his double double and then fell off the hood onto the brick pavement. But rather than his ineptness being a deal breaker, Laura found his nervousness rather adorable. They consummated the relationship when their test results came back negative.

From that moment on Grosz seemed to be imbued with a certain charisma, He stood taller, walked with authority and used his pretty eyes like tractor beams to draw women from Delta Sonic and Kohl’s into his orbit. The constant juggling and love making with three women has left Grosz happily exhausted and depleted of vital nutrients. Not so much though that he hasn’t pursued new areas of interest.  

With his surging vitality Grosz has taken several on-line classes and now can speak Portuguese and Mandarin Chinese. He can solve a Rubik’s cube in seconds and is studying to be a concert pianist. He’s up for a new position at Storage Plus and is going to be the face of all promotional materials going forward.

In a low ambivalent voice Grosz whispered, “I know it’s selfish, but I hope this goddamn pandemic never ends.”    

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Washington D.C.—This past week President Trump retweeted a post from game show host Chuck Woolery saying the media, the Democrats and the CDC are lying about Covid 19 to block his reelection bid. Later in the week, the Love Connection host ironically announced his son had been diagnosed with Covid 19. After a brief statement expressing solidarity with those suffering from the disease Woolery deleted his Twitter account.

Faced with the looming crisis of reopening schools safely in the fall, as a result of Covid 19, President Trump turned to another former TV star for help, Gabriel Kaplan. Kaplan was the wisecracking teacher on the ABC comedy, Welcome Back, Kotter from 1975-79. In the series Kaplan, as Mr. Kotter taught a group of remedial students known as the “Sweathogs,” at a Brooklyn high school.

Trump said, “Many many people thought the “Sweathogs,” were hopeless, but Kotter came back to James Buchanan High and did a terrific job, maybe the best job ever, with them. They had numbers no one has seen before or since. And Vinnie Barbarino after being in Kotter’s class for a couple of years went on to play Tony Manero in Saturday Night Fever and Danny Zuko in Grease, which are perhaps the biggest roles ever.”

PBS’s Yamiche Alcindor pointed out to the President that Kotter was a fictional character in a TV show and the “Sweathogs,” made zero progress and sucked from beginning to end of the series. She then asked how consulting a person who played a teacher on TV over forty years ago was going to help with the reopening issue to which Trump responded, “That’s a nasty nasty question and you’re a nasty woman who is fake news. And I wouldn’t say getting some of the biggest roles ever or the toughest roles, remember Pulp Fiction, is nothing. Believe me, no one except maybe Walter White, who didn’t return my calls, knows more about education than me. It will be the best and really, the safest, school reopening ever. Believe me.”

For his part Kaplan said he is meeting with vice-principal Woodman, Freddy, Epstein and Horshack—Barbarino was unavailable due to his continual pursuit of the biggest roles ever. Together they are brainstorming ideas to safely return American children to school this fall. So far, they have come up with the “Horshack Holler,’ which is an app simulating Horshack’s signature “ooh ooh” bit to warn students when they have broken social distancing space guidelines. The “Horshack Holler” will be available only in suburban school districts, where privileged white kids love to narc and bully each other. Their parents also vote Republican. All ideas for inner city schools have been rejected, since students of color generally populate these schools and their parents vote for Democrats.

Additionally, President Trump is tired of all this Covid, mask wearing nonsense and is looking shake up the news cycle with a manufactured Middle East crisis. To achieve this goal he has sought the help of ole-time WWE wrestler The Iron Sheik. But the Sheik is currently in rehab recovering from an addiction to painkillers and unavailable.

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Buffalo, N.Y.—On Thursday medical officials and Reckitt Benckiser, the United Kingdom-based owner of Lysol rebuffed President Trump for suggesting that household disinfectant products could be used to clean the lungs of Covid-19 patients. Explicit warnings followed from manufacturers of disinfectants and the medical community to never inject or ingest these products into your body under any circumstances.

Local author P.A.Kane (look over there⇒for his books) rarely agrees with Trump about anything, but like the President, he has a free mind and often thinks outside the box. Kane was the first to suggest to Bill Gates, that we implant microchips into vaccines so people can be tracked at all times; he encouraged Kanye to meet with Trump and pimp both the MAGA hat and ideals; and he advised Peter Frampton that it would be a great career move to star alongside the Bee Gees in the 1978 movie: St. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.

Kane has been experimenting with a wide range of practices that come from not placing limitations on what is possible. In addition to being a free thinker, the local author is an advocate for developing critical thinking skills, which requires a great deal of reading. But reading is time consuming and time, even in a shutdown, needs to be used wisely. So, Kane has begun to test the idea of reading by paper transmissions. He’s still working out the math, but in short the idea is to press three books at once against the front and sides of your head and will the information into your brain. Results have been inconclusive thus far, but Kane has been noting certain trends:   

1. Recycled paper seems to aid in conveyance and feels nicer against your head than new stock paper.
2. Three steaming cups of black coffee or one Red Bull prior to reading loosens the receptors in the brain increasing the probability of transference. A fourth cup of coffee or a second red bull is too much.
3. The left side of his head (Goodbye Columbus, Philip Roth side), sends greater impulses to the brain.
4. Fiction seems to transmit better than non-fiction.

Other findings have been less promising but he will continue to work the process.

Where Kane has hit pay dirt, is his experiments with light waves. Like President Trump, who suggested using ultraviolet or some other powerful form of light to fight Covid -19, Kane has been trying to improve his sex-life through black light immersion—black light—the light of love.  Kane has been sleeping in a bed surrounded by black light while silent radio waves of Drake’s forty sexiest tunes wash over him during the night. Mrs. Kane says her husband is about a million ab-crunches and six-months of dance lessons away from approximating any of Drake’s coolness, but since he has employed this technique she has been strangely open to the occasional reach around.

Another area of progress Kane has made is in his forty yard dash time. The improvement can be traced to the practice of soaking his feet in a bowl of water doused with a powder form of cheetah blood. His forty time has gone from 10.9 down to 10.1. He’s hoping to get the time down to 7.5- 8 range. Kane cannot point to how reducing his forty time will improve his life whatsoever. The sole reason for this undertaking is that Kane has always been kind of a fat slow guy and this summer, if we are ever released from home confinement, he hopes to smoke a few of his friends (other slow fat guys) in the forty while out drinking and then bust their balls unmercifully like an eleven year old boy.   

While it is unlikely the local author will ever find much common ground with President Trump, he does know that new breakthroughs only occur through brave, unbridled experimentation and thinking outside the box. 

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Alden, NY—Jan Holbrook of the Seabrook Park Estates in Alden attended the “Gridlock Buffalo” event at Niagara Square on Monday to protest the continued shelter in place orders by Governor Cuomo, which will continue until at least until May 15th .  The shelter in place orders stem from the deadly Covid – 19 virus that has been ripping through New York State and the country.

Normally, Ms. Holbrook, who is permanently disabled from a rupture of some sort, doesn’t mind staying home just as long as she can get out to have her hair and nails done a couple times a month. She also takes a weekly ride to the rez for smokes. But with shelter in place order the salons are closed and she hasn’t been able to keep up her look. Now her old man, Big John is disappearing for hours each day in his 1978  Chevy, Monte Carlo and Ms. Holbrook fears he’s spending that time with . . . Babycakes.

 Lynn Strumpet, aka Babycakes, is a SUPERCUTS hair stylist with an appreciation for the Chevy, Monte Carlo. It is well known among the Seabrook community that Babycakes appreciation of the Monte Carlo also extends to the men who drive them as well. Prior to taking up with Ms. Holbrook, Big John had an on again, off again relationship with Babycakes until Carlos Ramariez swept her off her feet with his 2000, six-speed Dale Earnhardt, SS Intimidator replica. But that relationship has soured and she is once again in hook-up mode. In the last few weeks Babycakes has been spotted in several Seabrook residents’ Monte’s including Big John’s.

Other Babycake Tales:
Shocking Amount Of Chevy Monte Carlos In Alden Trailer Park

“Goddamn Cuomo is going to fuck this up for me,” said Ms. Holbrook. “First time in ages I’ve had a man around here with an actual job. I can’t go back to life without Netflix or the Tiger King. I need to get my hair and nails done.”

Big John has been temporarily furloughed from his job as Assistant Maintenance Manager at the Statler Towers and has been spending his new found free time tuning up and detailing his Monte Carlo and apparently Babycakes has taken notice. On several different occasions Ms. Holbrook found Babycakes out in front of their dwelling as Big John worked on his Monte. 

So far, Ms. Holbrook has reacted to the situation with restraint. She hasn’t questioned Big John’s extended absences and when Babycakes comes sniffing around, “I just lite another menthol and take a deep breath, which has been enough to keep me from going to the drawer where I keep the ball peen hammer and bashing that slutty fucking Monte loving bitches head in.”    

 Additionally, Ms.Holbrook thought attending the “Gridlock Buffalo” protest was a positive action she could take to save her relationship. When past relationships have failed she typically alleviated her misery with a box of chardonnay, and then,  “I always threw the lying cheating scumbag’s shit in the road.” But at this point in her life she’s trying to take proactive measures rather than reacting with substance and emotion.

While she is unsure what good the the protest will do she did say, “We’re adults and we know the risks of not social distancing. If this is the only thing I can do to keep Big John and the extra six-hundred a week he’s getting in unemployment, I’ll do it” 

She also expressed what fun it was to drive around Niagara Square for two hours with other patriots like Russ Thompson and Carl Palidino and . . .” yell shit about that asshole Cuomo.”     

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Buffalo, NY—After an extended brainstorming session this past week it was determined local author P.A. Kane was the least essential member of the Kane family and would continue to shop for food and other supplies while his wife and children shelter in place as Covid-19 rips through Western New York.

Kane, the author of two novels: Written In The Stars: The Book Of Molly and Leaving Jackson Wolf, is recently retired from his day gig as a driver at Mensa Plus and is Amazon’s 1.5 millionth ranked author. Due to his reduced earnings in retirement, his anemic book sales and his penchant for really stinking up the bathroom he became the family’s obvious choice to face potential exposure to the deadly Coronavirus. 

When he objected, it was pointed out to him that his wife was now the main breadwinner,  keeper of the health care and as a result of some shrewd moves was able to minimize the damage to their 401K retirement savings. He knew suggesting that their oldest daughter pick up some of the slack would go nowhere since she provides mental health services to the needy in her role as a social worker. He then turned to his middle daughter who is a gifted artist with a BFA in Animation. It was decided that her potential achievements would far exceed a 1.5 millionth Amazon ranking that Kane had accomplished. Kane then desperately argued that their son, the youngest member of the family, who is a History/Philosophy major at the University of Buffalo couldn’t possibly be more essential than him. “He just sits around reading Spinoza all day,” Kane pleaded. “After this is over is he going to get a job at the Spinoza store?” Kane’s wife briefly conferred with the children and then responded, “We see your point, but he still has more potential than you, he doesn’t stink up the bathroom and . . . he’s my baby.”

Kane then reminded his family that he was the only one who knew all the passwords to the Amazon, Netflix and Hulu accounts. That he makes the coffee every morning and is the only one who grills and knows how to operate the snowblower or when the inspections are due on the cars. Seeing these appeals were going nowhere he then turned to the family dog, Kaya Francis Bean, and said it was unfair for him to be exposed since no one else tends to her needs or cleans up her shit, but his daughter cut him short, “Dad . . . dad, we’ll be fine. We’ll figure out new passwords and we’ll take the dog for a walk. We love you, but this is what’s best for everyone.”

Waiting for his next shopping assignment Kane now spends his days removed from his family with his books, writing and music in his little back office. Meals of rice and beans with a little bits of chicken are left outside his door. He has strict instructions to wipe down and fumigate the bathroom after each use. He’s trying to make the best of the situation by learning new Taylor Swift and Billie Eilish songs and vows with his next book he’s going to break into the top million at Amazon—so help him god.

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