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Hogspore News

National Society of Newspaper Columnists
2008 First Place Humor Column
                                                                                   

                                                                                            07-30-2018
                                                                      Hogspore News from the Ozarks
                                                                                           By Clet Litter
                                                                          Wacky world of soap operas

       Punkin faithfully takes in General Hospital on TV. I can’t wade through it cause it’s too wacky. There’s always a
character who doesn’t remember who he is. A restrained offspring of a mad criminal genius lies on a bed in a cabin in
the woods. A 12-year-old Boy Scout, looking like a smooth-faced Teddy Roosevelt, discovers the captive man, but only
returns to feed him. He also accidentally leaves his bugle in the cabin. That’s a loud scout troop if they all carry bugles.

       Everybody’s been married to everybody, at least once. One woman had open-heart surgery when she was a baby,
but she doesn't have any scars. Sonny is a gangster who, deep down, is really a sensitive and gentle soul.  

       I usually head over to Tony’s Barbershop when GH comes on. Up till now, there was a manly code of silence about soap
operas. Well now, the town secret is finally out. Tony closes and locks the shop in the afternoon for an hour. The menfolk at
Tony's view General Hospital and then discuss the possibilities of what will play out tomorrow.

       We don’t know how it got out, but our womenfolk are onto us. Now they’ve been making fun of us. But, something else
is happening. The women are gazing at us like they just fell in love again and the menfolk are being treated nicer than they ever
deserved. Turns out, gals like a man that can cry and get mushy about personal things. I still deny it. I only watch it daily cause
that’s what the other fellers want.

       I gotta admit though, the last thing I thought about before I went to sleep was whether Sonny was gonna spring his wife,
Carly, out of Ferncliff, the local loony locker.

       The first seven days in August is National Clown Week. President Richard Nixon was the guy to proclaim the special week.
Sounds appropriate. There’s a free resource directory for Bozos to become better buffoons and for folks who need to be fools.
There are also clown schools or you can go the old-fashioned way and run for public office.  

       You can contact Clet Litter at bobsimpson1947@yahoo.com.

                                                                                   
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Contact:
Bob Simpson
Largo, Florida
727-596-3458

BobSimpson1947@yahoo.com
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