‘Puter Update
‘Puter is in fact alive and reasonably well. ‘Puter would like to thank each of you who wrote to him expressing get well wishes, and even those who wished he would die like the stinking right wing BUSHITLERBURTONCON he is. It’s nice to be missed.
To this point, the L4-L5 discectomy has been a success. ‘Puter’s motion is better and there is no more pain down the leg. However, ‘Puter can’t sit yet, and he is stoned out of his mind on Percoset and Flexeril. On the upside, the drug cocktail makes daytime TV’s mindlessness mildly interesting. Especially The View. That show is a regular laugh riot when you’re out of your mind on prescription meds. Every show involves talking about sex and/or boobs. Even the one today with Barbara Walters interviewing Bibi Netanyahu. (Side note: Bibi’s moobs are nicer than Babs’).
You’d think ‘Puter would be enjoying the solitude. Not so. Yesterday, not a scant 24 hours after ‘Puter went under the knife, ‘Puter’s office had delivered a parcel of work for him to get to this morning, which ‘Puter dutifully did. ‘Puter’s thankful for the work, but it would be nice to have a break. ‘Puter’s in that awkward gray area of sort-of-kind-of disabled, but not really, because he has a non-physical desk job.
So ‘Puter’s spent today standing and typing (redrafting contracts), interspersed with a few rest breaks when he lays flat and rests. It’s not so bad, and ‘Puter is thankful for the relief from his disc pain, but he can’t wait to get back to what passes for normal for him.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.