|The Funniest Newspaper Column
in the Country
Hogspore News from the Ozarks
By Clet Litter
Mules not really talking, it's how they look
Some folks are suspicious about mules speaking to me. Course, the mules don’t really talk out loud. It’s more like I get
a message from them by how they look or act. It’s like when Timmy used to tell his mom, “Shut up Mom, Lassie’s trying to tell
“What’s your dog transmitting today, my special adopted child?"
“Lassie says that the lady forest ranger is lost in the woods with a ruptured ovarian cyst. Lassie recommends a complete
blood count to check for infection, and then rule out underlying endometriosis.”
Mom adds, “Lassie sounds like she has an MD degree.”
“She does. She’s My Dog.” Mom orders Timmy outside to play. The bears are coming out of hibernation and once they
finish with her strange son, she can move back to the city, land a desk job at an insurance agency, maybe divorce her husband,
meet a nice man, remarry, but definitely, no more children … and no more clever mutts.
Jim Meeker recently built a modern drive through window at the Happy Porker Barbeque Restaurant. I took my truck
through on a trial run. I chose the special weekend six slabs of ribs and a gallon of pulled pork. I did grab a pint of collard
greens, cornbread, and a generous piece of sweet potato pie, so I could have a balanced meal.
I stopped on a quiet shady dirt road and pushed the pulled pork down my gullet, along with the cornbread and sweet
potato pie. That way, I could walk in the house with only the ribs and greens. I didn’t want Punkin to think that I’m a pig.
Word musta got out about the pick up window. It’s been a few years since we’ve seen any space fellers or UFO’s, but they
paid a visit to the Happy Porker last Saturday. The UFO was three miles wider than the drive through lane. They landed in a field
behind the restaurant and four of em walked in the front door.
The customers and kitchen help froze into some kind of trance. They looked like folks do when they pause just before
a sneeze or extended burp, kinda like a baby when he gets real still with that faraway gaze cause it’s time to fill his diaper.
Jim was the only one that could interact with the space critters. He took their orders and waved em off when they tried to
pay. He said, “It’s ok, fellers, it’s on the house tonight.” They commenced to laughing at the joke about the last time they were
here when they broke in through the roof.
Sheriff Combover showed up later, but he didn’t mention the visitors or a UFO. He was simply there for some barbecue,
and he was mightily disappointed when Jim said, “Sorry Sheriff, I know it’s only 8 PM, but we had a school bus full of kids from
out-of-town stop by, and we’re out of everything. All that’s left are the collards cause none of the kids favored them.”
You can contact Clet Litter at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Just click on my e-mail address below and ask for the weekly column to be delivered to you each week.
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