El Guapo Returns….again

I took a break from writing for almost two years because I’d been producing a column a week for over a decade and it was starting to feel like work. Anyone who knows me will tell you that work just isn’t my strong suit and taking breaks is something I do well…so I took a break. 

I never considered my little humor column or this blog to be all that important to the fabric of modern life but given world events during my sabbatical I’m starting to reconsider that notion.  I’m not saying that the world has gone to shit because I stopped writing but you’ve got to admit the coincidence is pretty compelling. Let’s examine evidence, shall we?

Since my last posting signs of the eminent collapse of global civilization are everywhere. Sure, there’s a worldwide pandemic, riots in the streets and widespread economic collapse but I’m talking about events so bizarre that they can only be legitimate signs of the imminent end of the world as we know it. 

Take, for example, a short lived but tragic fad that spread shortly after I quit writing last year. After a part time nudist and full time whacko named Meagan posted a series of photos of herself participating in what she described as “perineum sunning.” For those of you who don’t have a dictionary handy, let me just say that perineum sunning could also be called “taint tanning.” Meagan claimed that this new morning ritual gave her so much energy that she completely gave up coffee. Sadly this fad resulted in some very unfortunate sunburns and way too many people stumbling across their neighbors trying it and seeing things that just can’t be unseen.  I’m hoping that Meagan and her disciples can return to a morning ritual of reading El Guapo over a nice cup of joe.

In the absence of my weekly posting competitive slapping became a thing in Russian pubs.  While amateur slapping for fun and cultural enrichment has long been a tradition in pubs around the world, last year the Russians elevated it to an organized professional event. Hundreds on onlookers cheered as large half naked Russians took turns slapping the shit out of each other until one was either knocked out, ducked to avoid the slap or was deemed unable to continue by the referee, who doubled as the bartender. A massive 370-pound slapping machine named Vasily “The Dumpling” Kamotsky was the last man standing and won the grand prize of $470. While I congratulate The Dumpling, slapping for dollars is a legit sign of impending doom.

Another sure indicator of the apocalypse is a police report out of Pennsylvania that two Amish men were pulled over for diving their buggy while intoxicated. Officers came upon the horse drawn buggy moving erratically down the road with loud polka music blaring from the last operational boom box know to exist. When the patrolmen attempted to pull them over both men jumped from the moving buggy (estimated to be traveling at speeds up to 6 MPH) and disappeared into the nearby woods. The horse continued to stroll erratically down the lane until the police courageously walked up and grabbed the reins. Officers decided not to chase the fleeing men after discovering a 12 pack of Michelob Ultra in the buggy that they determined couldn’t possibly render anyone legally drunk. The horse passed a field sobriety test but was held for questioning.

Earlier this year the state of Missouri sued televangelist Jim Bakker for selling something called “Silver Solution” on his TV show claiming it would cure COVID-19. While never really explaining what was in Silver Solution, Bakker’s spokesperson claimed that when tested on COVID it “Totally eliminates it.  Kills it. Deactivates it.” The state of Missouri filed suit after another washed up reality TV personality had already shown that malaria pills and injected bleach was the preferred treatment for the Coronavirus. Silver Solution…..sheesh!

I can’t make a prima facie (that’s Latin for something I heard on Law and Order) case that the world is circling the drain because I quit sharing my almost clever ranting, the circumstantial evidence was clear enough for thousands of my fans to ask me to start writing again and save the world.

OK, maybe that’s not exactly the way it went down but one guy did ask, “Hey, when are we gonna hear from that El Guano dude again?” How can I say no to that?

Now, I realize some of you might have expected some sort of biting social commentary on the insane state of current events but, like I always tell the TSA agents, that’s not my bag man! That said, there is so much material these days for a semi-pro smartass to write about that there’s hardly any work required….and that is just my bag!