I mentioned a few weeks ago that I had some personal matters to tend to that were going to make me scarce for a bit. That will probably continue for another month or so. So I was very pleased to hear from a confessor who asks to be known as Jack McCall. He inquired as to whether he could offer pieces for posting. Seeing as how I've begged for volunteers in the past, I was very pleased to hear from him.
Here is his first offering, and I believe there will be more to come. You will see that it refers to events that happened a bit ago. I apologize to Jack and to you for my delay in getting this up. But its point survives.
Thank You for Continuing to Shop at My Ticket Confession.
And anyone else who has an essay of any length with a worthwhile Ticket connection, please let me hear from you. I can't promise I'll post everything, but I'll always give it a respectful and generous read.
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Monday morning was especially lousy. You woke up to ongoing news from yet another mass shooting, this one barely 24-hours old and somehow even worse in toll than the others. And you woke up knowing you'd be dealing not just with the tragedy itself but the hot takes of others, including the Ticket guys.
Maybe they made you mad. Or maybe you agreed. Likely some combo. But if you're like me, maybe you just needed a damn laugh.
Which brings us to Monday morning's 8:40 guest, Exaggerator.
Gordo as some famous racehorse is always funny. But, folding the character into a Muser playlet that calls back to an absurd question Gordo once posed to baseball-great Gaylord Perry? That's next-level funny.
When George loses it I laugh out loud. Or maybe I'm already laughing because I know Gordo knows he's delivered a line so perfectly that George is about to lose it. Meanwhile, Junior lurks innocently with a can of gasoline.
The Ticket has jokes for all. But the jokes for few are the P1's real payoff. And damn those jokes feel good on an otherwise lousy morning.
|Oooo, Plainsman, who's your cute friend?|