Mongo’s Corner (Warning Adult Language)

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Wake Up and Get Out of the Way

Is it just me or are the average run of the mill schmuck around town becoming more annoying than a rouge nose hair that dodges the morning tweezers?

Yesterday I was in a rush to pay for my morning cup of gas station coffee and fuel for my ozone killing Escalade when I was stranded behind a four foot three woman who was commandeering the attention of the lone clerk with her cashing in a whopping $18 in lottery scratch off’s and then becoming mesmerized in the earth stopping choice of taking the cash or pressing her luck and going for the free lifetime supply of Tater Chips that is the top prize of the Larry the Cable Guy scratch offs.

By the time the clerk had checked each ticket and stapled the printed receipt to each individual winner I figured  I could have single handedly finished the Keystone pipeline and filled my tank while growing, roasting and brewing my own coffee. And then Doctor Demento’s dream date began to scratch off her new tickets right there at the counter.

Forgive me for resting my coffee cup on your head you end table of fiscal wizardry while I swiped my card and obtained my free air freshener but people have places to go, like work.

Next stop on my journey takes me to a local pastry proprietor for the cardiac halters demanded for the morning conference. There I was stalled in my tracks once again by Mr. Let me tell you about my family tree who found it necessary to share how his son is the brightest sandwich slapper at Subway and he knows that you must demand the sugar doughnut in the middle of the tray because its cut from the thickest part of the dough.  I should have opted for the day old glazed in the back rack at Bakers the night before.

It has become an epidemic. Minions of attention whores plugging up the right of ways. I’ve become accustomed to timing my front step to catch the rear flap of the flip flop worn by the 300lb year round beachcomber clogging the aisle at Target thus spinning them into the clothes rack and allowing me to pass with care. If I don’t I would be stuck in a merry-go-round of sluggish splendor shuffling from department to department.  Where do these folks spawn from? If they tackle their jobs with such rigor no wonder it takes 60 minutes to get through to a customer service representative to challenge a purchase made at Spoons and Wicks.

People are more concerned with posting to Facebook and Twitter what came out of their last bowel movement than they are getting respectfully moving along the pathway of life. Nobody wants to wait in line behind you as you chatter on your IPhone to your BFF about how your boy toy is toying with your neighbors mother. We don’t give a shit. Pay for you stuff and get out of the road so we don’t have to follow you on the street while you talk text and surf yourself to sleep at the next stop light.

And with that I am off to do some Christmas shopping and see if I can get my upper lobe to explode over Aunt Thelma blocking the cart coral while she fumbles for her expired 10% off Depends coupon.

Mongo the Art Critic

Has anyone driven past the so called artwork installed on the 24th Street bridge in Council Bluffs?

I know, I was not and still am not a fan of the Sounding Stones that were abandon in Elmwood Park by our last Mayor, but this junk makes the concrete snak pak containers look like Rodin.

What is that crap on the bridge? A tribute to Remelt? 20 years ago Arron Fere would have had a forklift on site loading this shit up on a flatbed thinking it had fallen off one of their trucks.

Some have said that the art was set to impress a gateway to the city and was designed to represent man, machine and transformation. Ohhhhh K. First, you got a bad batch of mushrooms. Second, the only impression most people are getting is the transformation from a rusty pile of shit in the junkyard to a rusty pile of shit sticking up from the road which has the appearance that at any given moment while visiting you could end up being skewered.

This work of , whats the word I’m looking for, garbage was commissioned by the Iowa West foundation and was compared to the Eiffel Tower by it’s CEO Todd Graham to the tune of 3 million. That could have educated a lot of kids Todd, not scared the living shit out of them as they drove by. If you got that much money to drop then let me slam a Prius into a guard rail representing Japan’s inability to diagnose a brake malfunction and you can slap a cool 3 mil in my hand. Ok wire transfer to Costa Rica works too.

Mongo Talks Merger

Many of you may remember me from days past on here. I had vowed to never comment on hockey but after reading all this crap I cannot hold my pen any longer. At this point you may want to cover the kiddie’s eyes.

All this talk over a merger of the two hockey organizations has turned into nothing more than a “My kid can kick your kid’s ass” blowhard slugfest. The last time I saw adults acting this poorly was dollar lap dance night over at Lipsticks and Dipsticks. I really don’t want to elaborate about how that ended.

I just went through a merger situation of sorts this past winter. My church, The Church of Shut the Fuck Up the Game Is On, merged with the Church of Get Your Ass in the Car Were Going to Wicks and Things. Now we call it the Church of Light Another God Damn Candle and I am Watching Curling on the Big Screen.

At first it was chaotic. The New York Jets were driving down the field and I was being asked to smell potpourri. Then during the middle of the Super Bowl the smell of raspberry cinnamon cucumber waifed through the air and totally killed the flavor of my bean and sauerkraut burrito.

But as time went on things improved. Now I am allowed to watch NHL Center Ice with only a hint of Canadian Blue Spruce in the air. The Church moved service to a tent that rotates locations. At least now we can smoke in the pews again. The weekly bingo session now has mud wrestling in vanilla bean hand lotion and Mongo Jr. only has to wear his European male accessory bag on special occasions.

We added a few new members to the Church Board and not everyone was pleased. Everyone likes Deacon Dave but Sister Mary Fulloshit was almost a deal breaker.  She had some lofty goal of only letting the kids in Sunday school watch non contact sports where the score was blacked out on the screen. Her idea for U-16 T ball was also not a fan favorite. But after being plunked in the head a few times with adult beverage containers at the town hall meetings, she came around and now is in charge of the Australian Rules football team.

The collection plate is way off though. Thelma Brillo and the rest of the choir broke off and took their numbers to a former strip club in Cater Lake and started their own parish after heated debates over the use of the American Choir Tone Development Model.  After weeks of trying to replace them we were forced to use an old boom box with a semi scratched Abba cd. Knowing me knowing knowing  knowing…….. However we did get a tidy sponsor from DirecTV, four rooms installed free and all sports access for a year. Eddie is getting good at aiming the dish every week. He might end up as the greatest DirecTV installer in the Midwest region.

But we moved forward.

Since talks of the hockey world merger surfaced a lightning rod of activity has drawn some former combatants closer and yet has pounded a wedge between former allies. What lays ahead nobody knows. Should it pass I can bet (2-1 odds) that there will be backlash of revolt as many are tossed out of their comfort zone of getting what they are used to. In other words, travel tryouts better have tighter security than a Ben Nelson rally with Jim Suttle as the keynote speaker.

Should the two groups get together as one? Sure. Why not? Besides it will give some people new targets to bitch about.

One key element to the merger was to bring costs down. Here is a no brainer. Put point spreads on the games and open a book. Granted some delusional dad will loose the college fund betting on his benders team but hey the rest of us will play for free. Over/Under on a mite game would be a gold mine.

Go after sponsors that have something to gain. Bail bonds companies, defense attorneys, mental health professionals to name a few.

Next we have the issue of what to call the new teams. I have a great idea. This plan has offended a few why stop there. And because rumor has it there is an NCAA rule that prevents us from being the Mavs any longer then to hell with them. I hear the Fighting Sioux is now available. Where one era ends another begins. However to stay somewhat politically correct have the logo be a lawyer and tell them we learned to read using the Spaulding system.

This was called a marriage more than a merger so we need not look far to find good things from great marriages. Ozzie and Harriet, Sonny and Cher, Jen and Brad, Brad and J-Lo, Bill and Hillary, Liz Taylor and Richard Burton, Homer and Marge, Al and Peg, Cher and Greg Alman to name a few.  So some people don’t get along. Who does? Again I go back to the new batch of gossip you will all have to work with.

I know some of you are suspicious of the motives of the Puck Nugget 12. I for one am not. I’ve been around shady people all my life. These people do not fit the bill. In fact a couple of them are giving old school hockey parents a bad name because they are so nicety nice. Be glad these 12 are not the boys from down at the church. Rocco, Fredo, Vinnie, Leon, Francis, Bertha, Blanche, Gertrude, Vern, Sonny, Vito and the guy we call the Blade. Get behind in your tithing and you better hope the Waste Management guy looks under the lid before flipping the dumpster.

Remind yourself what you’re really in this for. Road trips to Fargo, drunken dice games  that run till 2 a.m., SUV’s with 290k miles on them, credit card bills your kid will inherit, garages full of old hockey equipment, freezers full of 12 year old fundraising pizzas and Sunday nights watching your offspring getting waxed in a BPHL game after all the fun is over. Count me in because I’m down $450 at Keno and I’m getting hit on by the two women flipping a coin over who gets to wear the set of dentures when they come over to talk to me. The line on the merger is 3-1 to pass. Anyone game for putting the Coaches salaries up on it?

Mongo  Where’s My Remote Torrey


12 responses to “Mongo’s Corner (Warning Adult Language)

  1. Dear Offended, go spoon a goose!

  2. just a parent

    Dear offended, keep your damn kids off this. This is for consenting adults who for no other reason want to voice their opinion. Do you not dictate what your kids can and can not do on the internet?

    This is great stuff and should not change at all.

  3. You people need to grow up. Kids read this stuff. Your setting a poor example.

  4. If I didn’t know better I would have thought I wrote that. Can’t wait for act 2.
    If the merger happens let me be the first to suggest Milf City Cougars as the new team name. I have seen a few hockey mom’s that we could use their picture for the new logo. Everyone around the country would want us to come play there. They might even pay our way. Think about it.


  5. Milf City Cougars Bantam B2

    [Act 1, Scene 1 takes place at Moylan Tranquility Iceplex, Omaha, NE]

    It’s early August of 2010. The merger occurred and is now in the rear view mirror. A few dissenters still upset over the name change are out there and angrily whispering to their fellow nay-sayers along the glass but for the most part the I’s have been dotted, T’s have been crossed, things are going smoothly gearing up for the 2010/11 season.

    Everybody is getting along splendidly but then… [queue the ominous and foreboding music please]… tryouts occur.

    Oh my.

    The skies around Tranquility darken dramatically, the wind begins to blow and thunder can be heard in the distance. A cold rain begins to fall.

    That evening the rosters are posted.
    Moms and dads around West O are gathered around their computers anxiously refreshing the web browser in hopes of being the first to learn their little superstar has made the AA team.

    The sky turns black. Lightning flashes are occurring every minute and the thunder is deafening….the internet connection is being affected by the weather and daddy is developing carpal tunnel from clicking refresh. He removes his hand from the mouse and rubs his wrist while he waits for the page to load.

    The page begins to slowly appear on his screen. ”Finally” he says. Mommy is so excited she can’t sit still.

    Daddy mutters, “What the F***?”

    “This can’t be right, Johnny was nails during the tryout!” he screams at his wife. “Didn’t the coach see him make that pass at the beginning of the second period?” His wife begins to sob.

    “This has to be a mistake”, he proclaims.

    The phone rings.

    Old Man Benderankles feels a pit in his stomach and hesitates to answer.

    He stares at the phone. Ring……ring……ring. On the fourth ring he answers.


    The voice on the other end is familiar but sounds nervous.

    “Is this Mr. Benderankles?”

    “Yes it is, who is this?”

    “This is Coach Slewfoot. How are you this evening?

    “I’m fine, thanks.”

    “Look, I’m sorry to tell you that Johnny didn’t make the AA team but I wish him well this season. Tell him to keep working hard and maybe next year he’ll make it. Good luck.”

    Mrs. Benderankles sees the look on her husband’s face. She knows the answer before he puts the phone down….she begins to sob uncontrollably.

    “DO SOMETHING HONEY!!” She screams at the top of her lungs. “Call the damn President if you have to!!”

    Junior appears from his bedroom and sees his parents in a rage. “What’s going on daddy?”

    Mr. Benderankles composes himself, “Nothing that I can’t fix Johnny.”

    Daddy grabs his car keys and hurries to the garage. Junior and mommy hear the screeching of tires in the driveway as daddy speeds away towards Papillion.

    Meanwhile, back at Tranquility chaos and bedlam ensues.…cats and dogs are literally falling from the sky. The populace divides into two camps….Mavs vs Glads. Maverick kids are the overwhelming majority of AA travel players while a few Gladiator kids are sprinkled throughout the lower end travel and make up a majority of the house program. The father of Johnny Benderankles, who was on a Gladiator travel team, is now frantically calling his friends trying to get them to start a new team with him. He wants it to be called the AA2 team because his kid is “AA” material (and we already have an AA and AA1 team). He tries to bully the board saying he will take a group of kids to Fremont or Lincoln.

    Never mind that the kid showed up to tryouts wearing two left skates that were two and a half sizes too big.

    Never mind that he uses a 100 flex Northland with no curve (‘cuz Gretzky used to use one)
    and you couldn’t fit a slide a piece of paper underneath the puck on his wrist shot.

    Never mind that he can only do a hockey stop facing to his right (the two left skates are the logical cause).

    He MUST be good enough because he was on a travel team over at Gladiators, HE’S BEEN TO LINCOLN and MASON CITY, for GOD’S sake!!!!

    …after all, he dominates the Squirt and Mite-aged kids at drop-in once a month (he’s a Bantam).

  6. Not a thing. I was refering to the people that sometimes went there. And they didn’t have Schlitz on tap so I don’t think any of them were you Flounder but I could be wrong. How ya been?

  7. What was wrong with Lipsticks and Dipsticks?

  8. Just another hockey parent

    Wow. That wasn’t what I was expecting but I can’t stop laughing. Very good. Where is service being held this week and what time? I have a closet of fundraising candles I could donate. Can I get a receipt?

  9. Under the Bleachers

    It’s back and it’s about time.

  10. Best op-ed I have read to date on the merger. Waiting for your op on city hall.

  11. Costa Rica till I got that tax thing cleared up. Nice to see you again.


  12. busy hockey mom

    Oh Mongo…where have you been these past months? Oh how I missed thee…

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