Dear Uncle Duffy
Is it just my imagination, or is the President not capable of answering his own questions? I was watching one of his very rare news conferences the other night, and when he was calling upon reporters, he was reading from a list, while pretending to be calling on reporters randomly. Is this why he has to testify together with Dick Cheney in front of the 9-11 Commission hearings? This is very troubling.
—Confused in Sundance
Dear Confused in Sundance,
Again, as I stated last month, I’m trying to keep these columns apolitical, since I see problems on both sides of the aisle. However, it is tough to not respond to your note. First of all, the president (I won’t make it a capital “P” until he’s actually elected, if ever – and hopefully never) has only held 3 prime-time news conference, which is because he looks so vacuous when he speaks off the cuff. Although it would be easy to just dismiss him as a slowwitted bumble brain, I won’t do that. You saw what happened when one reporter asked him a question he didn’t have in front of him. He hemmed and hawed and stuttered worse than usual. And of course the reason he has to testify with Cheney in front of the 9-11 is so he can sit on Cheney’s lap and Cheney can manipulate his Charlie McCarthy-like presence.
—UD
Dear Uncle Duffy
We just moved here (Placitas) from Boca Raton, Florida, my husband was transferred which is why we moved, this would not have been my first choice of a place to live, believe me. Talk about a major lifestyle change. My question is this, are these Placitas people just slobs or what? I have only seen two or three lawns in my entire community, and doesn't anybody here
know how to landscape? Or do they think that all this dirt and rocks and a few ugly shrubs are attractive. I just don't get it. Maybe you can explain it all to me.
—Bored from Boca Raton
Dear Bored,
I hate to irritate one of my readers (since there’s not a plethora of them) but I have to say that you’re one dumb idiot. Please go back to Boca Raton (the mouth of the rat) on the next banana boat or the next freight train. Take your husband with you, since obviously if he had the stupidity to marry you, he must be sharp as a sponge also. And, of course you’re correct that us Placitas-types don’t want water-sucking lawns to care for, since there’s a severe shortage, in spite of what realtors have said. Let me guess, you also leave a lot of flood lights on at night so you can be reminded of your happier days in Boca. No wonder you guys didn’t know how to figure out voting ballots. Good bye, and good riddance you festering mucoid slime-ball.
—Sincerely, UD
Dear Uncle Duffy
I recently heard a funny quote, "She was only a rancher's daughter, but all the horse manure." (All the horsemen knew her, get it?) Do you know who said this?
—Rancher’s Daughter in Ranchos
Dear Rancher’s Daughter,
Actually that was pretty funny. I believe the author of that one also once said, “she’s only a cattleman’s daughter, but you should see her calves”, not be confused with the guy who wrote “She was only the telegrapher’s daughter, but she didit, didit, didit. The author of that was the father of my first wife (half Muslin, half Jewish, and half wit) named Schlomo al Fresco.
—UD
Dear Uncle Duffy
What's slower, a snail's pace or molasses?
—Tommy P.
Corrales
Dear Tommy Pee,
That’s a very viscous question. I believe a snail is slower than molasses, but neither of them are as slow as my lady, Aunt Fern, when she drives on I25. She says that speed limits are just suggestions, not the law. It’s fun to drive with her and hear the squealing of tires of cars behind her who became aware too late that she’s driving 3 mph in a 75 mph zone.
—UD
Dear Uncle Duffy
My boyfriend, I'll call him Bill (that's not his real name, his real name is Dale), anyway, my boyfriend Bill, says he loves me and wants to marry me. (I said we could not have a "real relationship" unless we were getting married--I'm not one of those cheap girls!). I just heard from a neighbor of mine, that Bill is already married, and has three kids and his wife is pregnant with twins. And it does seem suspicious that Bill never stays for more than a half an hour when he comes to visit.
Do you think I should believe Bill? Or do you think my neighbor is correct? And if my neighbor is correct, why would Bill say he loves me and wants to marry me? I'm so confused.
—Laredo Lil
Dear Laredo Lil,
Dale (oops, I mean Bill) sounds like a real keeper. I’m more impressed that “Bill” can get what he wants from you in 30 minutes. It doesn’t sound like it’s too tough, for him to get what he wants, as I’m sure it wasn’t too tough for all of your “boyfriends” since kindergarten. Bill’s been feeding you a line, which you’ve been only too happy to accept. Why not stop by his wife’s house and bring a present for the three (soon to be five) kids? I’m sure that his wife and Dale, er Bill will be delighted to see you. By the way, Laredo, the next time you write, why don’t you leave your phone number. I have a few bachelor friends who would definitely like to spend some time with you—of course, no more than 30 minutes, but you’ve set the standard for time allowed.
—UD
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