Here’s your lineup for June: Jason Love gets a cat; Rosie Sorenson discusses “Smart” marriages; John Sammon writes about Auto Esoteric Erotic Stimulation; Rex goes to Tassajara; Robyn takes a stress test; Mary Tompsett writes about plastic surgery procedures; Sarah Flake has a crush on Barbie; Jason Offutt and Giosue’ Santarelli both talk vacations; and we have two short stories this month, one from Jennifer E. Hewitt (”Poor Fluffy”) and one from Martin Dodd (”Bubba’s Big Adventure”), two talented storytellers we are glad to be able to feature in our pages. Balding men will find this month’s cover story by L. Dustin Twede of interest. Dustin lays out all your options: Ponytail, Comb-over, Transplant, Toupee, etc. Me, I’ll stick with Hat.

We’re having a gigantic celebration! Yup, in honor of our fifth birthday this August, Foolish Times is having a birthday bash! Look for details in next month’s issue. Here’s a list of events we’re working on:* Classic comedy films at the Golden State Theatre
* Live burlesque
* Comedy Challenge at Monterey Live
* Brazilian drummers
* Maybe a parade! Come join the fun!

This issue has some great new writers and cartoons-check them out. There are more pages and some great new advertisers too.

Wow! That’s almost too much good stuff for me to handle at one time. To get some balance I’ll just take a trip to the DMV.

Don’t Forget The Advertisers!

One Sunday morning William burst into the living room and said, “Dad! Mom! I have some great news for you! I am getting married to the most beautiful girl in town. She lives a block away and her name is Susan.”

After dinner, William’s dad took him aside. “Son, I have to talk with you. Your mother and I have been married 30 years. She’s a wonderful wife, but the truth is, I used to fool around with women a lot. Susan is actually your half-sister, and I’m afraid you can’t marry her.” Read the rest of this article »

June birthdays: June 19th is Garfield’s birthday, which is really going to overshadow any birthday party plans you have this month.ARIES (3/21-4/19):
What do the NBA Playoffs and you have in common? This month, you’ll both take long shots, hoping to score. And how do you differ? You don’t have as many convictions and you don’t make $1,000 a second for dribbling.

TAURUS (4/20-5/20):
This month, Seattle, Washington holds a large Summer Solstice Parade & Pageant, which has recently started to include painted naked cyclists. This recent change really bunches your panties because you cherish the status quo and would love to return to the proper pagan solstice celebration of lighting bonfires to ward off evil spirits. Read the rest of this article »

There once was a pitcher named Zito
The giants thought he was neato
They paid out big bucks
For an arm that just sucks
And now their season’s finito Read the rest of this article »

Little Old Lady
A young man shopping in a supermarket noticed a little old lady following him around. When he stopped, she stopped.Furthermore she kept staring at him.

She finally overtook him at the checkout, and said to him, “I hope I haven’t made you feel ill at ease, it’s just that you look so much like my late son.”

He answered, “That’s okay.”

“I know it’s silly, but if you’d call out ‘Good bye, Mom’ as I leave the store, it would make me feel so happy.”

She then went through the checkout, and as she was on her way out of the store, the man called out, “Goodbye, Mom.”

The little old lady waved, and smiled back at him. Read the rest of this article »

Nutritional Guide
For those of you who watch what you eat, here’s the final word on nutrition and health. It’s a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.1. The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

3. The Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

5. The Germans drink a lot of beer and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans. Read the rest of this article »

Got a cat recently.When you announce that you’re having a baby, everyone applauds and cheers. Tell ‘em you got a cat and they’re like, “Oh, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

So it goes.

When I got the cat, the owner said that he, the animal, talks a lot; and I thought, “Hey, cool, like Garfield.”

Turns out that talking is more like nails on chalkboard: MEEEOW. MEEEEOW. But then you reach down to pet him, and he runs away.

That’s the difference between a cat and a dog: A dog wants your attention; a cat wants you to be “less neglectful.”

My Sam likes to sniff his butt-and you would too if you could-but when he looks up, he’s got this crazed expression like he’s sniffing a totally different kind of crack. I asked a local vet what it meant and he said, “How should I know? I fought in a war.” Read the rest of this article »

According to the relationship experts who sent me an announcement about an upcoming seminar, it’s no longer enough to have a regular old, vanilla-style marriage. We now have to have “Smart Marriages.” From the pages of this same brochure scream the titles for break-out sessions on “Hot Monogamy” and “Ultimate Relationships.” I feel as if I were walking around the county fairgrounds and hearing the cries of the carneys: “Cold beer, ice cold beer! Hot Monogamy! Come on in-get your cold beer, your Hot Monogamy-win this stuffed bear for the little lady!!” Makes me tired just to think of it.I wonder what these so-called experts would say if they could peek in on my “marriage” to Steve. I use quotation marks around the word “marriage,” because although we’ve not legally tied the knot, we’ve entwined our hearts and lives for the past nine years. Read the rest of this article »

I have been an extra sensory person for several years now, and I believe firmly that a regularly applied program of pressure point or suggestive or downright mental or physical psychosexual stimulation can add years to your youth, darken your gray hair, and erase wrinkle lines.What, then, is “Auto Esoteric Erotic Stimulation?”

The happiness of the inner being is a glow that must be applied. Read the rest of this article »

I had recently read a book on meditation, and felt I was making great headway in becoming enlightened. My only problem was Rex. He frequently disturbed my bliss. I needed to get him enlightened, too, so he wouldn’t bug the bajeesus out of me.”Rex, I’m going to teach you how to meditate. Just watch me. It’s easy.” I closed my eyes and envisioned a brilliant ball of undulating light in my third eye. My breathing deepened and I suspected I was becoming One With the Universe. I opened my eyes to monitor Rex’s progress. He was gone!

“Rex, you slacker! Get back here. How can I teach to meditate if you wander off without the least bit of interest in becoming enlightened?” Read the rest of this article »

Matters of the heart can sometimes be literal. So when I tell my doc that I am tired all of the time and that my heart is “hurting,” she suggests an anti-depressant.

“I’m not depressed,” I say, with a note of defiance in my voice. “My chest feels tight, I’m out of breath when I walk, and my heart hurts.” (Ok, I haven’t had a good date in a while, which might depress the average girl, but this is different.) Read the rest of this article »

Woo-hooo! My sweaty fist holds a $600 tax rebate, thanks to (a) Uncle Sam; (b) countries who passed the basket to lend us the moolah; and (c) the kids who’ll inherit the debt.How lucky that I don’t need my rebate for the mortgage or groceries, and can GO SHOPPING!

I could “green” the house for energy efficiency. Or upgrade my old ten-speed with a Boomer-friendly model, and bike to work. Think: Tricycle with padded tractor seat and “Born to be Wild” mudflaps. Sensible, yet classy. Read the rest of this article »

I’ve always sworn I would never have a Barbie in my home. The idea of their fierce anatomy infiltrating my PG toy box made me cringe. What would I be teaching my daughter if I gave her these dishy dames to play dress-up with? A friend gave us the book “Barbie Rapunzel” a few months ago and I made sure to stash it in the back of a closet at my house.

I wasn’t taking any chances. Read the rest of this article »

Vacation. A word so sweet your triglycerides rose to the level of Jabba the Hutt’s just by reading it. So, please, go to the emergency room-now.Yeah, vacation is sweet, and I had five days of it. Five no-shavin’, no-workin’, no-thinkin’ days of lethargy and naps. I sat on the couch that Monday morning, a cup of coffee in my hand, when my lazy vacation turned into one of those vacations you see in movies where everyone’s ankles are chained together and they’re busting rocks in front of a guy holding a shotgun.

“Bye, honey,” my wife said as she did a strafing run through the living room on her way to work, pulling the front door shut behind her so quickly I barely heard the words that would doom my vacation much like “I’ll have to raise taxes” doomed Walter Mondale’s 1984 presidential campaign … by the way, he lost. “Have a great day. There’s a list on the kitchen table. I love you.” Read the rest of this article »

This morning I was driving along the freeway listening to the radio when a commercial about hair transplants took control of the radio airwaves. The commercial was basically equating a man losing his hair to a man losing his ability to do…man things.A few months ago I wouldn’t have been offended by this bold-faced attack on the fragile balding male ego. I would have laughed it off, for it was an attack on a fraternity of men that I didn’t belong to. The Phi Beta Balding fraternity. But lately I’m beginning to see more of my hair in places where it’s not supposed to be (shower drain, hairbrush, cereal bowl), and less of my hair where it’s supposed to be-imbedded in my scalp. Read the rest of this article »

A short story by Martin DoddExcept for one other couple, Bubba and Birdie were the only customers in Hungry Harv’s Hash House. Bubba thought Birdie was cute enough; the nose ring made her sort of exotic, and she’d been around: Georgian by birth, Floridian by choice.

But Bubba Turnipseed was bored. Three weeks with Birdie had set a record. Once they said, “Thank you, Jesus,” or some orgasmic equivalent, the thrill was gone. It’s hunting, not having, that revs the engine. Read the rest of this article »