Rick Gauger

A PLACE FOR ALL THE STUFF CRAMMED IN ONE MAN'S MIND TO BE OFF-LOADED…

Ancient Egyptian Beer Brewer

Mogo tells me that he’s overjoyed to hear that a few scraps of his old buddy Khonso-Im-Heb were found when archeologists discovered his tomb in Egypt. Khonso was the biggest beer brewer of his time when Mogo was the biggest beer drinker of HIS time. And great times they were! Mogo knew Khonso when his brewery was a one-jar operation in an alley behind the mummy works in Luxor. They knew Moses. One time Mogo and Khonso had to carry Moses back to the palace. All three were drunk as dung beetles, and Moses had to come back for his chariot and horses the next day. Moses told the two friends that he was planning to grow a beard and become Hebrewish, and was going to go on an exodus, and did they want to come. Mogo and Khonso laughed about that for years but Mogo later regretted it. He said he could’ve had a speaking part in the Old Testiment if he’d said yes. Mogo tells me that he felt guilty when he read that Khonso’s tomb was “discovered.” last year. He admitted he went to Khonso’s funeral beer bust but Mogo got so drunk he forgot where it was located which is why it had to be “discovered.” Here’s the article:

discovered-the-tomb-of-an-ancient-egyptian-beer-brewer

Mogo and the Hadron Collider

Reports from CERN are that the latest breakdown was caused by a bird flying into an outdoor electrical transformer while carrying a piece of bread. This is not the first time that bread has caused annoyance. I mean have you ever had to listen to a European go on and on about how great their bread is? And how bad ours is? I can tell you that if that bird had been carrying a piece of Wonder Bread (“now more dielectric!”) the Hadron Whatzit would have functioned on schedule, pinched out a new universe and we would now be wondering how to get back into our familiar five dimensions.

Mogo returned from a short jaunt into the near future to make sure the CERN startup won’t turn the space-time contimuum inside-out. He reports that the attitude toward this possibility changed from scoffing to pandemonium when, after the startup and shutdown, the celebrating workers tried to leave the underground facility. When they opened the security door it faced, not the reception and mime area, but a wall of solid rock. All the exits were in the same condition and there was no communication with the outside world. Running, screaming and sex orgies ensued among the elite scientists until Mogo calmed everyone by explaining that the massive torque generated by accelerating protons counter-clockwise caused the 17-kilometer-diameter circular facility to rotate ten degrees clockwise on its foundations. It took two weeks to dig tunnels to the exits, during which time the faculty ran out of wine, cheese, and baguettes. One Frenchman accepted Mogo’s offer to share his (peanut butter and jelly on Wonder Bread) sandwich, but remorse drove him to suicide soon afterward. Despite this tragedy, work on CERN will continue until they finally are able to explain what they are trying to discover when it starts working.

Mogo says he was surprised to find Mr. Obama President and Ms Clinton Secretary of State, instead of the other way around, but he says he often notices minor discrepancies after CERN startups. “No biggie,” he remarked.

Mogo and Martha Stewart, Part 1

It’s a little-known fact that Mogo the Mugger was Martha Stewart’s first ‘date’ after she got out of jail in 2005.

The sequence of decisions leading to this previously unknown historical encounter began with a series of phone calls that Martha made toward the end of her jail term. The calls were to various officers of her Martha Stewart Living Corporation. “I need a man!” she screamed into the inmates’ phone. “Get me a man! Have him waiting for me when I get out! Who asked you for your opinion?! Shut up!”

Martha’s last frenzied shriek (“A real man! Do as I say, or you’re all fired, you cringing sycophants!”) ringing in their ears, the terrified executives convened a locked-door meeting. The problem was apparent. To avoid an even more horrific scandal, discretion had to be the paramount consideration, paramount, that is, after the testosterone-level of the candidate. Whoever he was, the candidate would have to be selected from among the ranks of Martha’s employees, someone who could be forced to secrecy. The difficulty was, however, that the male work-force at Martha Stewart was composed entirely of interior decorators, certified public accountants, and business majors.

At the last moment, someone remembered the new truck driver who had just been hired. A frantic search for the driver’s address and phone number revealed that his address was the same as corporate headquarters, in fact, the man was living in a cardboard box on the roof of the building. A delegation of executives found Mogo squatting in front of a campfire built of office furniture on a sheet of corrugated iron, just finishing a roasted pigeon. “Mogo on break now,” he told them, licking his fingers.

To be continued

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