Gary’s Gone: “This Is The Last Effin’ Lake Wobegon Monologue I’m Ever Gonna Do!”

Well, it’s been a rough week in Lake Wobegon, Minnesota, my hometown, out there on the edge of the prairie.

Our local fishwrap, The Herald Star, continues to report that much to my dismay The Orange Pussy-Grabber in Chief is still currently occupying the White House.

The Lutheran church ladies have been gossiping about doings down Alabama way, where siblings are in-laws, The Deliverance Banjo Boy is teaching 12th grade physics and Judge Roy Moore is busy swiping “Kinder” for his next date.

The movers and shakers weekly luncheon at The Sons of Knute Temple,  Lake Wobegon’s Norwegian fraternal organization, were filled with consternation that Our Own Senator Al Franken continues to be plagued by what seems to be a never ending series of accusations of less than appropriate behavior.  The fellas who make up what passes for The Elite in our town have taken to calling it “Gropegate” – although a Really Smart Fella who writes for a Big Out East newspaper doesn’t quite understand what all the fuss is about.

And the fine folks having the $1.49 breakfast special at The Chatterbox Café the other morning nearly tossed their eggs over easy with dry white toast when the news broke that TODAY Show host Matt Lauer was auditioning sweet young female staffers for spots with his Strap-On Olympic team.

And me, well, let’s just say after so many years of dunking my stale Powdermilk Biscuits into more cups of weak de-caff than I care to think about I ‘m having a hard time understanding why those fat residual checks are gonna dry up and leave this seventy five year old NPR money-tree shaker selling pencils outta a tin cup for a nickel a pop.

(It’s not like I was doing The Shower Pole Dance for the hot young interns like that other 75 year young geezer Charlie Rose…)

Hard times have fallen on the Public Broadcasting Sector and not even a extra shipment of Grizzly Bear Gall Bladder Viagra for Pledge Week is gonna help once Trump goes all medieval on their sorry asses.

Well, as I was saying to the other daytime drinkers over at The Sidetrack Tap, I’m too old for this shit – it’s past time to leave the country.

Probably shudda gone right after Hillary lost anyway.

You can get social security checks forwarded to Bangkok, right?

Well, that’s the end of the news from Lake Wobegon – and by the way MPR can bite me.

Bruno Strozek

Written by Bruno Strozek

Bruno Strozek is the author of occasionally semi-coherent piffle and has been a Writer/Editor at Sparta Report since July 2016.

Strozek, along with his alter-egos the decadent, drug-addled Sixties refugee Uncle Bruno and his intolerably feminist SJW Cousin Brunoetta have been riding the not-yet crested wave of deplorability with posts covering politics, sports, entertainment and zombies.

Aptly described as both "hilarious and deeply disturbed" Strozek has enthusiastically embraced the recommendation of the late Raoul Duke that "when the going gets weird the weird turn pro."

Although he has fallen far short of his bucket-list goal of writing for such respectable rags as The National Enquirer and The Weekly World News Strozek is grateful for the opportunity to pen his unhinged screeds at Sparta Report and is constantly amazed and delighted at the reception his pieces receive in the cements.


white house christmas tree

The Trumps Light The White House Christmas Tree

Is the NFL Finally Seeing the Light?