Yes, it’s time for another visit to the heartland, where lives that lovable old curmudgeon, that practical thinker, the man with all the answers to questions never asked, everybody give a big shout-out, to…

           HI UNCLE BUD!!

Uncle Bud: Hi kiddies, and all you Mommies and Daddies who brought the the lil-uns today, because it’s your weekend with the brats. So, I guess you see the mailbag next to Uncle Bud’s rockin’ chair. We know what that means don’t we, children? (Cups hand to ear)

Audience: It’s Mail Day, Uncle Bud!

UB: Yep. Hey, you in the front row, your lips glued, son? You don’t get to sit up front if you don’t Read The Sign! Remember two minutes ago, twerp? The warm-up guy said to shout out whatever the sign says? You AHDA or something? Oh now you’re gonna cry, how sweet. Security! Get the lil’ whiny-boy and his papa outta here. Okay we gotta show to do, so lemme open this first letter… after I open this corked-off jug of squeezins. Ah! yessirree, no drink for whiners, until the jug is empty, that is, heehheehee!
(Sound of envelope being ripped open) Dang! The letter is in two pieces!  Supposed to be pre-opened, you dumb sh.., oh, the FCC here again?  (Puts fingers to lips)Shhhhh! (drunkenly exaggerated laugh, with spittle) Okay, just gimme another’un. Alright, this is from Timmy, in Beeman, Iowa. ” Dear Uncle Bud. My Daddy and Mommy drink, just like you, but it isn’t fun when they do it. Mommy burns the food and makes us eat it anyway, and Daddy hits us. Sometimes, he locks us in the clo… Yadda yadda, yak and moan, poor me!
Look, grown-ups drink, boy. You’re eating, aren’t you? Is Daddy ignoring you? No-oooo, he isn’t. You’re lucky, my Dad was gone in my formative years. There was a war going on, and Dad, he would’ve been fighting for your right to whine if the sheriff hadn’t met him at the bus station with those old warrants. Now, grow some skin, son, put those memories in a box, and don’t let ’em out, ever!. Make Daddy proud. Next letter is from… oh, what time is it kids?

Audience: Time for a taste, Uncle Bud!

UB: Dang! That rang out. Okay, one pull per letter, or your favorite Uncle Bud might mess up a word or two. (Rip!) Lessee here, “My name is Johnny, I am 11 years old, and I listen every Saturday, Uncle Bud! ” So far, so good, nice young-un. “I see you drink all the time, and you are funny! I like being funny, and I have been sneaking drinks from Mommy’s bottle in the mornings, and my friends laugh at me in 1st period. But by lunch, I feel bad. So I have been taking money from Mommy’s purse and daddy’s wallet, and getting booze from the janitor, who keeps some in a room in the back, just for kids like me wh….” Well, it’s good to hear from a normal kid for a change, Johnny. May I suggest mints to hide the evidence from teacher? But, since some of my readers might have serious problems, let’s move on to letter number…number …

Audience: ThreeFour!Three fourthree….! (discordant shouts from audience)

UB: Shaddap! Did a sign come on? I asked a question, DID A SIGN COME ON-NNnn! No sign, not a peep outta anyya! Dang, messed up my train of thought, I need a pull….mmm, good! And another… Gawd, these noisy little bast …., yeah, and just what are those big-gub’mint nanny-bitches gonna do? Pull my plu

Announcer: And that wraps up another episode of Hi Uncle Bud! The show where anything can happen, where sense is made, plain-talk is spoken, and wisdom reigns supreme. Uncle Bud will be back soon, after his appeal for a continuation is heard by the FCC. What will he be up to when he gets back? A bit of  friendly back-and-forth with the little lady? A theosophical  disagreement with the papists next door? Gettin’ that tractor fixed a’fore harvest time? We don’t know either! Let’s all tune in and find out next time on Hi Uncle Bud!

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