The Funniest Newspaper Column
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Hogspore News
National Society of Newspaper Columnists
2008 First Place Humor Column
                                                    Hogspore News from the Ozarks
                                                                      By Clet Litter
                                                   No 'just desserts' at birthday party

   A few folks stopped by to celerbrate my birthday. They brought gifts and I liked everyone
of em. Course, with all those friends, the cake and ice cream ran out before I got my birthday
second helpings. I didn’t get my just deserts, but I did have enough to feel that dessert stupor
kick in that men live for. That’s when I reflected that it might be better to have more friends in
my life than cake.

   I can’t tell you about the present Punkin give me cause it’s personal, but it weren’t from the
Dollar Store like I thought. The receipt I found turned out to be for two boxes of rat poison for
the barn. Punkin cooked my favorite meal, spaghetti and cheese. She said, “Come on Clet, your
spaghetti’s getting cold.” Then I got scared when she said, “You best start eating rat away.”

   On this date in Hogspore in 1888, Cutler Bodanky borrowed a horse and buggy to carry his
fully pregnant wife to a doctor in the next county to deliver the baby. In one short afternoon,
(between lunch and supper), the law arrested Mr. Bodanky, the court tried him, a jury
convicted him, and a judge sentenced him to die for stealing a horse and buggy. They
scheduled him for the gallows in the morning cause most of the crowd had already gone
home for dinner.

   Cutler’s last request was to hold his newborn son for the first, (and final), time. The sheriff
handed the baby to the condemned feller already on the scaffold. The trapdoor wouldn’t open
so the Sheriff had his own request, “Sir, can you help us out here? Try jumping a few times to
spring the trapdoor.”

   He obliged and, after a few hops, the door opened, and Cutler Bodanky fell to his reward.
After two seconds of dangling, he forgot what he was doing and dumped his son into the
waiting arms of a well-placed deputy beneath the platform. The deputy handed off the child
to the recently widowed mother. The onlookers cheered, but not as loudly as when the
newborn’s daddy had dropped to his doom.

   The widow vowed to bring up the boy to be law-abiding. To remind him of what a life of
crime would lead to, she named her baby, Rope.

   In 2015, Mount McKinley in Alaska became Denali. It’s still a mountain and the highest peak
in North America, but it’s like a major Las Vegas one name star. It means “the tall one” in one
of the original Alaskan languages. There weren’t any President McKinley supporters alive or
voting in Alaska, so it was an easy change.

   To respect the earliest natives in this country and their descendants who now reside here
and vote, we should rename America to honor the cavemen, cavewomen, and cavechildren
who lived here first. Since they didn’t have a written language and no tape recorders, we could
call it, the United States of Grunt.

   You can contact Clet Litter at


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