This is the 25th issue of Kal's Pals. I can hardly believe that I haven't found something better to do with my time for the last 6 years. I need to get a life.
Kal's pals has really grown over the years. Our first issue was a one sided sheet of legal paper, named after our softball team ("The Dog's gone Crazy") that was used to remind people about upcoming softball practices. Slowly other features were added (mostly to fill up space), I changed the name when the softball team broke up (Damn that Yoko!) and started sending it to more and more people I know who had heard about it through the grapevine.
Compared to that first issue, this one is huge.
Other publications started out small like Kal's Pals though. The Guttenburg Bible for instance. When Guttenburg first invented the movable press and began to mass (no pun intended) produce the Bible, people said "Steve? The Bible? Come on, who's going to want to read that? Let's print up some porn". But, they went with the Bible anyway and it soon caught on. It's now used in courtrooms and motels all across America.
In order to commemorate 25 issues, I've come up with a little board game you can play. The game is based on the last ten years or so of my life. I hope you find it as fun as I did. It's not that I think my life is any more interesting or funnier then anyone else's, it's just that I'm more willing to be publicly humiliated then anyone else.
Anyway, enjoy the issue and I'll see you for number 26.
Important Stuff About Friends & Lovers
Another fine Christmas with the Ervin family. I mean what would Christmas be without one of my cousins showing me her underwear. Thanks Dorian. Nice velvet bra; though burgandy dosen't really match the red panties.
Well boys, the world is a safe place once again... Laurie F., formerly known as "the man hating bitch" is getting married. So guys, feel free to talk to "L.L." without fear of being ripped a new one for being a man. And who do we have to thank for this miracle? Eddie G. Chef, swell guy, and sometime contributor to Kal's Pals. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy. Or gal for that matter.
Hey! What happened to the Menards guy?
Kevin & Rene C. are expecting. This will be bambino numero two. Once again we hope it inherits its mother's hairline.
Anybody have a Zima lately? Just wondering.
Oh you know the
Gil H. took a trip to Poland. He says the Polish chicks aren't as pretty as they think they are. Don't let Linda O. nee Lisowski hear you say that Gil (there are exceptions to every rule Linda). But I know what he means, I live in a mostly Polish neighborhood, and the Polish girls like to go heavy on the make-up and dressa little slutty. Whenever I go to the grocery store, I can't tell if there's a hooker convention in town or just a new wave of immigrants.
Chicagoans. Anyone seen the new Damen Avenue Bridge? Nice design.
Monica & Chris M. just purchased a house in Whitefish Bay Wisconsin. Whitefish bay is a very nice suburb of Milwaukee, much like Wilmette is to Chicago. Of course only in Wisconsin would you havew a suburb named "Whitefish" Bay. "Ya hey der, when's the fish fry Monica?"
Renee V.started a new job. She still works for Hyatt, she just does something else for them. I don't know what she did before, and I don't know what she does now. But she is the "Who the hell are you?" person in this issue, so read that and maybe you'll get some answers.
Dave K.swas featured in a national ad campaign for the Boise Cascade company. The ads ran in Time, Newsweek, and the Wall Street Journal. I, on the other hand was featured in an ad for Feeeling Good Lube. The ads ran in Juggs, Barely Legal, and Huge Ass Lass magazines.
Kelly P. & Don C. are getting married. Congrats.
My Grandma E. celebrated her 95th birthday. I got her a savings bond.
Lori & I were kicked out of Quiz Night at the Irish American Heritage Center for being 7th wheels I guess. The whole thing is pretty quizzical to me.
No Basketball Anymore
Michael Jordan has retired, the Bulls have been dismantled and The NBA lock-out has left a bad taste in my mouth. I don't think I'll bother with any of the abbreviated basketball season of "99, and probably won't be too interested in the next few years either. But, I'll still need some kind of B-Ball fix every now and then; so if you're like me and need your fix too, here are some alternatives to the NBA.
Watch College ball:
Read "Sacred Hoops" by Phil Jackson.
Rent the following movies
Hoosiers
Blue Chips
Hoop Dreams
and finally...
Space Jam
Some pretty useless information
The following is a bunch of information that has collected in my files for years. I'm sure that none of it will be of any use to you, which makes it the perfect kind of info to put into Kal's Pals, which in itself is of no use to anyone.
Want to donate your brain to science?
Need a condom in Germany (and who doesn't?)?
How about an autographed picture of
www.bobdenver.com
The truth is out there
Nordstroms will take back anything from any store
Want to find out all about Spam?
Now I have to run, I have a "Spam-loaf" in the oven.
Kal's Pals Salutes...
Well, another Valentine's Day has come and gone, and when I think of Valentine's Day I naturally think of chocolate.
Now I'm not a huge chocolate lover, but like everyone else I do get a craving now and then. For me a little chocolate goes a long way, and that's why I think that the Hersey's Kiss is probably the most perfect peice of chocolate you can get.
It's small and sweet, one bite-sized piece of candy which immediately fills you with that good chocolate sensation without overpowering you. It's not a hard passionate kiss like one between two people who have suddenly decided that their love for each other can no longer be contained. No, it's more of a small kiss, lips slightly parted, lingering for just a second, the kind of kiss that you give to your lover out of the blue, then they say "What was that for?" and you say "Just because." It fills you, it makes you feel good, it's small and quick and sometimes that's all it takes. Sometimes you don't want all the pomp and circumstance, or all the games..."Should I call her?", "Will she call me?!", "Am I wasting my time?!!!!", "WE DO EVERYTHING IN WORLD TOGETHER, WHY DOES SHE STILL WANT TO BE JUST FRIENDS?!!!!!".
That's what a Hershey's Kiss is to me! It's right to the point! You want it! It wants you! It doesn't screw around with your head! It's perfect for you and you know it! So grab it, hold it in your arms and scream to it at the top of your lungs...I WANT YOU!!! YOU ARE THE WORLD TO ME!!! IF YOU THINK THAT I CAN LIVE WITHOUT YOU, THEN YOU DON"T KNOW WHAT LIVING IS!!!! Do it! Do it right now damn it, before it's too late and that kiss is out of your life forever!
By the way, the Hershey Kiss was invented in 1907, and was named for the "smooch" sound made by the machines that originally used in manufacturing. Hershey can produce 33 million kisses a day.
Now you'll have to excuse me, I need to go lay down for a while.
Junk Drawer
The Ramses brand of condom is named after He fathered over 160 children. Somebody didn't do their research.
And I quote...
Science!
Helen O'Connell M.D., a urologic surgeon at the Royal Melbourne Hospital in Australia, recently did an extensive dissection study of that most wonderful of female organs...the clitoris. Contrary to popular belief, the clitoris isn't as small as we all think. The part that most of us are familiar with in one way or another, (the head or glands) is just the tip of the iceberg (so to speak).
During her study, Dr. O'Connell found that the glands are connected to erectile tissue which can extend as far as 3 inches inside the vagina. I'm so stunned by this that I can't think of anything funny to say. I want to know one thing though...how come it took so long for somebody to discover this? You think one of you women would have found out about this sooner...it sure would have made my life a little easier at times. Next time some women complains to me about not being able to find her "magic spot" I'll just say "Hell, you women couldn't find it for millions of years; and it's in your body!"
By the way...do you say clit-or-is, or clit-er-is?
Just curious.
Kal's Pals Trivia
Which Kal's pal was thrown out of her fourth grade sewing class for sabotaging all the sewing machines?*
Mary G.
*She moved all the pedals around so that when someone pressed down on their pedal, a sewing machine across the room started sewing. What a little minx.
The Special
Awwww, go to hell.
Let's say for the sake of argument that there really is a Hell. The Hell with the fire & brimstone; not the living hell I've created for myself, that's another story for another time, but for now, let's just say that Hell exists.
Hell's been around for a long time; since before Adam and Eve even. Hell got it's start when the Angel Lucifer and a bunch of other angels rebelled against God and were cast out of Heaven, burning and screaming all the way down to the netherworld. You don't fuck with God; he'll mess you up if he has too, especially that Old Testament God.
Now I'm no Bible scholar (there's a news flash) so I don't know how many angels were originally sent to Hell, but let's say that it was like a million or so. Does that sound right? One million? O.k. One million. Now when these one million Angels were sent to Hell they were converted from beautiful Angels into ugly Demons as part of their punishment. With nothing better to do they became the guardians of Hell. So lets say that Hell is guarded by one million Demons. O.k? O.k.
Now I'm no math professor (news flash # 2) but if you say that just one tenth of all the people who have died since the dawn of time have gone to hell (and that's got to be a conservative number) that's like millions of people. Hundreds of millions probably. So even with my goofy numbers, you have to figure that the Demons of Hell are pretty much out numbered. There's probably thousands of human souls per Demon. These demons really have their hands full, so how the heck can they get any kind of proper tormenting done I ask you? They're just too over worked.
The way I see it, by the time I get to Hell, those Devils won't have any time to bother with a minor sinner like me. They got enough to do with all those dead Nazi's and Mafia guys, not to mention Klansmen or all those nuts from the Spanish Inquisition.
I figure that these demons are so busy and overworked that I'll have free reign over the place. They'll have their hands full with all the really bad guys, so I can do what I want.
Oh sure the heat will be murder at first, but I'll adjust. And there won't be any beer, but on the plus side there will be plenty of chicks; naked chicks; naked porn star chicks who like to do all kinds of nasty things.
So don't worry about me, Hell really doesn't scare me at all; with my charm and wit I'll be able to organize all the little sinners together. Yeah don't worry about me in Hell; give me 6 months and I'll be running the joint.
A Mike & Kevin Adventure.
The following story is true...
Holy Saturday 1991, me and my good friend Mikey had been out drinking. At about 3 a.m. we headed to our favorite late night restaurant for an early morning breakfast. We needed something in us to soak up the booze before Easter services.
In the booth behind us were a couple of guys who had passed out and were sleeping off their night of boozing. At some point during our breakfast one of the guys got up and left, leaving his drunk-ass friend asleep in the booth with the check.
After a while the waitress goes over to this guy and tries to wake him up. "Wake up" says the waitress while giving the guy a gentle shake. "Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck." says the guy sounding just like a chicken, except he wasn't saying "cluck". The word he was uttering rhymed with cluck, but started with the letter "f" instead. After his little outburst, he immediately passes out again. Well Mike and I just burst out laughing at this. This little scene repeats itself three or four times; the waitress shakes the guy, the guy does his possessed chicken routine and passes out, me and Mike burst out laughing. Now the waitress is getting pissed, so she really shakes this guy, who then starts yelling and swearing at her. Sitting at the counter are a couple of biker dudes who happen to be friends of the waitress, one of them now gets up, grabs the guy and throws his ass out on the street.
As fate would have it, me and Booshie are leaving the resturant at the same time that this guy is being tossed out. Now this drunk is just standing there on the corner, swaying back and forth, looking like a poor lost soul. Mike, being the good samaritan that he is, wants to give this guy a ride home. I say leave him, but figure it's Mikey's car and if the guy is going to blow chunks, Mike's the one who has to clean it up. Just to be safe though, I sit in the back, behind this guy; I figure if he's going to blow, it's better to be behind him then in front. Nothing ruins your night like a blast of puke to the back of your head. Am I right or no?
Anyway, we ask the guy where he lives and it turns out not to be too far from where we are. On the ride to this guy's house he passes out like three or four times. Each time he wakes up he asks Mike and I "How do you guys figure into this?" Mike explains the story to him each time. Me? I just want to roll him out of the car. While it's moving.
Finally we get to his apartment, but suddenly the guy says he can't go up there. "Why not?" we ask. It seems his wife had his ass thrown in jail the day before; the other drunk with him earlier had bailed him out. He was going to stay at the YMCA next to the restaurant but they were full, so he and his friend went out drinking instead.
So now we have to drive this mook back to his car back at the restaurant. Mike makes the guy swear that if we take him back to his car he'll sleep it off there. Of course he swears.
When we get back to his car we discover that on top of everything else, this doofus has locked his keys inside. I find a piece of wire in the parking lot and after 20 minutes of messing around we manage to pop the lock, cutting my hand on the wire in the process. We make the guy promise again to sleep in his car for the night, push him inside, and go on our way.
It's now about about 5 in the morning Easter Sunday; Mike dropped me off and I got 3 hours sleep before I had to meet Linda, Dave and Sam for Easter Mass, which I attended with a killer hangover.
Now somewhere out there in the world is a guy who remembers the Easter morning when two Angels saved him from the mean streets of Chicago. And he wonders...if they were Angels; why did the bald one keep trying to steal my wallet?
Who the Hell are You!?
Name:
Birthday:
Birthplace:
Occupation:
Current Home:
Working On:
Worst Job Experience:
The Last Good Movie I Saw:
The Book I've Been Reading:
Favorite Pig Out Food:
Nickname:
Favorite Performer:
Prized Possession:
People always think I'm:
I'd give anything to meet:
Favorite Annual Event:
A really great evening to me is:
My Fantasy Is:
The One Thing I Can't Stand is:
If I Could Change One Thing About Myself:
I'm Really Good At:
My Most Irrational Act:
If I've Learned One Thing In Life It's:
Major accomplishment:
Hobbies:
Three words that best describe me:
Kevin Connection
Favorite Renee Moment
And in closing...
It seems that old catholic Nuns are in trouble. There are thousands of old Nuns right now and not enough funds or people to care for them. This is a pretty messed up situation when you think of it. These poor women gave up what the rest of us would consider a "normal' life, to do the work of Jesus, they in fact became the "brides" of Jesus. These are woman (rulers to the knuckles aside) who have dedicated their lives to helping others and now find no help for themselves.
I guess the bottom line is this....Jesus; pretty damn good saviour, but what a lousy husband.
So ladies, don't be so hard on your husbands the next time they mess up. If even the Son of God can screw up, what chance do us regular guys have.
Go in peace.
joke by now.
As I write this, the Big Ten is kicking butt. The NCAA play-offs should be some exciting stuff. Every year the NCAA Championship is filled with surprises and upsets galore; who knows what will happen this year, but you can bet it will be exciting.
This book is not totally about basketball; but all the Zen philosophy stuff in it makes this an interesting read.
Heartwarming flick about a small town Indiana team and their struggle to the state finals.
Nick Nolte plays a coach (think Bobby Knight) who tries to keep his basketball program together while he fights corrupted players and alumni.
Award winning documentary that follows two young Chicago basketball players from grade school to college as each strives to achieve his lifelong dream; to play in the NBA.
Because it's the last time you'll ever get to see M.J. play basketball again.
Call the Harvard Brain Tissue Resource Center
@ 800 272.4622 between 8:30 A.M. and 5P.M. EST.
Operators are standing by.
"Ich hatte gerne kondome"
Pronounced: Ick hatta gana con-doo-ma.
Bob "Gilligan" Denver
to hang in your hut?
Hey, the guy has to make money
for his marijuana habit somehow.
X-Files fans can report any
abductions and anal probings to the
Air Force
@703 697.4100
Just leave my name out of it.
as long as you have a receipt for said item.
www.spam.com
The Hershey's Kiss
the great Pharaoh Ramses II.
(more or less)
Easter Section!!!!
Renee V.
October 1, 1968.
Park Ridge, Illinois.
Human Resources Representative.
Nice mullet.
Portage Park, Chicago Illinois
Learning yoga.
Working in the kitchen at Brown's Chicken.
(All my clothes smelled like greasy chicken).
"Saving Private Ryan".
"Divine Secrets of the Ya Ya Sisterhood.".
Three hot chicks. Renee, her mom and sister.
Enchilata's in mole sauce with plenty of guac and chips.
Miss Renee.
Poi Dog Pondering.
Old photos and scrapbooks.
Monica Seles.
A free, live-in massage therapist.
New Year's Eve with good buds.
Editor's Note: I have never been invited to Renee's on New Years
Drinking with old friends and having some smokes.
I don't smoke.
Being a talented stage perfomer. Not a stripper Kevin!
Editor's Note: Damn!.
Stuffy corporate offices.
I'd be more bold.
Living within my means.
Taking a hit off a three foot bong at age 15 to get a cute boy's attention.
To remember to stop and smell the roses.
Finding a decent man to share my life with.
The love birds. Renee and Doug.
Painting/drawing, reading and cooking.
Idealistic, dramatic, creative.
I first met Miss Renee through my good friend Bernie. At the time, she worked for American Eagle Airlines which was in the same building I worked in when I was an art director. She had started working there after I had already left, but Bern became friendly with her and would often have lunch with Renee and the other Eagle girls. Bernie and I were meeting for lunch once and he invited the girls to join us. The rest is history.
Renee once asked me why I got divorced and I told her that "It's a long story that involves a knife, a midget and a German Shepard". For years Renee believed this story to be true. She's a bit naive, but I love her dearly.
I'm sure to go Hell for this one...