Greetings Mooj Heads! Another week has come and gone and we are happily together once again. Few things bring more joy to me than spending time with my you, my gentle minions. If I could travel and hug each one of you personally I would. But since I can't I will settle for writing this weekly newsletter instead. This issue of The Mooj Weekly Standard is like most, except that it is better. So enjoy it if you must.
Mooj,
Howzit brah? Mo bettah than before? You say come if I say go? You come to Hawaii and less go kau kau. I got onolishious poy! Try come bruddah. All pau da kine. Boddah you? Bulae bulae lolo! My sister a Tita and I a Moke. Ats why hard.
Bum bye,
Nui L'oa Ule
Kailua-Kona, HawaiiThe Mooj always enjoys hearing from his International friends. Unfortunately, since The Mooj doesn't speak Hawaiian I have no idea what this foreigner is saying (or if it's even in the least bit worthy of reflection). (My bet is that it isn't.)
Ok, I may not be the MOST intelligent person in the world but how can people intentionally lie to me? I'm a hair stylist in a mall and one day I am styling the hair of this real creepy guy (he's a regular). I don't normally talk to him but this one time I strike up a conversation cause I figure we're starting a new millennium and so why not turn over a new leaf and not pass judgment on my clients. Anyway, I know this guy's wife is pregnant and I ask him if she has had the baby yet. This guy tells me yeah, and then proceeds to tell me all about it (how long the labor was, the name of the baby, the weight, the height of the baby, etc.). So you say to yourself, so what about all this stuff? I asked him a question and he gave me an answer. Well, that would be all well and good, except that two weeks afterwards I see this same guy and his wife and guess what...SHE'S STILL PREGNANT! So much for trying to turn over a new leaf and give people the benefit of the doubt! Needless to say I am back to my old self...moral of the story... in the words of a poignant bumper sticker: "MEAN PEOPLE SUCK."Clipped in the Bud
Bel Air, MDI agree! The guy sure sounds like a creep! Some people just lie about anything even when they don't have to!
Mooj:
I totally got screwed because of you. Last month I bought one of your paintings on eBay for $6,535 (Blank Canvas #241) and then took it promptly to my art dealer here in NY City to have it appraised. He told me that it was now only worth $300 because you’ve become passé. I reluctantly held on to the art piece hoping for a Mooj renaissance but that never happened. Now your lousy piece of [crap] painting isn’t even worth the price of a blank store bought canvas!
Tito M. Jackson
NY, NYSure, rub it in! You don't think The Mooj is aware of his recent unpopularity in the new age art community? The Mooj has feelings just like everyone else you know!
To The Mooj and his minions:
Last week you may recall that I mentioned that I was going to travel to Stockholm and meet with Inge Svensson’s grandnephew to purchase his old family Bible. Well I did. As expected the Bible did, in fact, have a map of the Azores drawn inside the front cover by Inge Svensson. But, unfortunately, it was very sloppy and extremely high-level in topological details, which shall make pinpointing the exact location of the treasure a bit difficult. I am, however, certain that this is a genuine treasure map since next to the large “X,” illustrating where something has been buried is written the words: “Here lyes [sic] beried [sic] pirate gold and other [unintelligible] stuff.”
I am now back home in College Park, MD to take my midterms. As soon as I finish all my exams I will travel to the Azores to find this missing treasure. If you or any of your Mooj minions would like to accompany me on this adventure contact me through The University of Maryland School of Journalism. I hope to hear from someone soon. I will leave College Park on or about December 16th.
Your Pal,
Jeff W.
College Park, MD.This actually sounds like a lot of fun. The Mooj will give this idea serious consideration. Oh hell, who am I kidding? Sure The Mooj will go! After all it will give my minions something interesting to read about in my Travels with Mooj section!
You [butt]wipe!
Why couldn’t you just leave well enough alone? What kind of person would have a senile old man dragged from his old folk’s home, beaten into a meaningless confession and then put on trial for some long forgotten roller rink fire? My Grandpa Caufield was a peaceful and law-abiding man and he never done nobody no harm no how! I remember who you are because I still get a sick feeling in my stomach when I picture your greasy little face sitting up there on the witness stand. Grandpa Caufield was right about you! You are a menace to society. Everybody knows it was you that burned down Grandpa Caufield’s roller rink and that you even tried to kill him, too. But that wasn’t good enough for you. You also had to humiliate him in front of his friends and family when he was a senile old man! Our Grandpa was a fine upstanding citizen and us Caufields refuse to let some [f..k]chop like you ruin our good name! Consider this a threat because we Caufields mean business when we put somebody on our “list.” Now you’re on our list!
Joy Caufield
Boca Raton, FLFirst of all The Mooj had absolutely nothing to do with them dragging your poor old grandpa into court. It was the result of a thoughtful journalism student and a zealous district attorney, who knew a miscarriage of justice when he saw one. I was an innocent victim, who just so happened to confess to a crime masterminded by your evil grandpa. Please take me off your "list." I can't afford to have anymore lunatics out there chasing after me at this point in my life!
Mooj:
Last night I was watching the Trinity Broadcasting Network’s Prayer-A-Thon and The Good Reverend Shambaugh told me that if I sent in $2,000 that I could become a prayer partner and that it would help me get out of debt. So I did. Now I’m really in debt. Someday I, too, hope to be up there singing on Melody Mountain with Sister Betty Jean Robinson. Have you ever been up there on Melody Mountain?
Bernice Olivera
Fawn Grove, PANo, The Mooj can honestly say that he hasn't.
Mooj,
It is said that only a fool can tell the King the truth. How many Kings have you told the truth to?
The Bagley Sisters,
St. Marys, PA.The Mooj thinks the Bagley Sisters have been sampling too much of their old Granddad's famous "recipe."
Mooj,
Why are all these people in Seattle rioting over the WTO? I know people don't like professional wrestling but isn't this going way too far?
Mimmie Ryder
Dundalk, MDThe Mooj thinks you are mistaken. WTO stands for the World Trade Organization. Are you sure you're not thinking of the World Wrestling Federation (WWF)?
Dear Mooj,Have you ever noticed that your pal Lance Worthy and that guy Steve on Blues Clues look alike? Are they the same person?
"Bal"
Santa Monica, CAStrangely, this isn't the first time someone has made this comparison. The Mooj can neither confirm, nor deny that Steve (from Blues Clues) and Lance Worthy are the same person.
Hey Mooj,
What's in store for me during the new Plutonium?
Foxie,
Hermosa Beach, CAGood things I'm sure.
The New Mooj Web Site is now up and running and this has given many new (and old) minions a chance to re-register. As most of you know most of The Mooj's official records were destroyed last summer in the Great Chester County Jail sink hole disaster. Now that we have a new infra-structure in place we are going to attempt to re catalogue the minion roster. Please feel free to re-submit you Mooj Head application form and remember only The Mooj, his staff of non-paid interns and anyone who reads these newsletters will ever know who you are. Your names will never be sold to any other con man or scammer unless you want it to be. The Mooj will never personally hit you up for anything, except love and understanding. So if you haven't done so already, please submit your minion application today. Your new Mooj Minion number will be sent to you as soon as possible.
Last week 10 new Mooj Heads joined the Mooj minion family. Let's all give them a big "cyber" hug and welcome them to the minionhood! Here they are in no apparent order:
Pricilla J. Hunter, Mooj Minion #1100 is a school teacher from Amarillo, TX. Her response to why she would make a good Mooj Head was: "I like to sing, dance and help others."
An anonymous female now known as Mooj Minion #1101 claims to be a graduate of The Barbazon School of Modeling. She also attended The Columbia School of Broadcasting (not affiliated with The Columbia Broadcasting Network) and Doodson Trucking Institute. Her response to why she would make a good Mooj Head was: "Well, like you Mooj, I'm an over achiever and everyone likes me until they get to know me and then they do everything in their power to destroy me."
Frank Ruby, Mooj Minion #1102 is a mailman from Henrietta, OK. His response to why he would make a good Mooj Head was: "I love the environment and like to do kung-fu dancing in the nude."
"Tom," Mooj Minion #1103 is a welder from Pasco, WA. His response to why he would make a good Mooj Head was: "I'm a positive person with a big [omitted] to match my big heart."
An anonymous male now known as Mooj Minion #1104 didn't tell me anything about himself other than the fact that he always wanted to be a Mooj Head and makes his own beer.
G. Gable, Mooj Minion #1105 is a rancher from Sierra Vista, AZ. His response to why he would make a good Mooj Head was: "I got abducted by a UFO myself, once."
An anonymous female now known as Mooj Minion #1106 says that she is a housewife from Guernsey County, OH. Her response to why she would make a good Mooj Head was: "I be colledge educated at UC and eats Skyline Chili."Manuel Gorrida Ortega, Mooj Minion #1107 is a pig farmer from Puerto Penasco, Mexico. He says he wants to be a Mooj Head because he thinks it will help him get his Green Card.
"ZZ Bottom," Mooj Minion #1108 is a ventriloquist from Millsboro, DE. His response to why he would make a good Mooj Head was: "I ain't exactly the brightest guy in the world but, hey, I gots good looks."Guarpo Sanchez, Mooj Minion #1109 is a mariachi dancer from El Segundo, CA. His response to why he would make a good Mooj Head was: "I'm on that all new all-carb diet."
Two Mangoloris were arguing amongst themselves as to who was more macho. The first Mangolori, a jhatka-wallah, told the second Mangolori that he was so virile that each night promiscuous women lined up in front of his house to engage in naughty behavior. The second Mangolori, a driver for the DTC, claimed that he was even more virile then that. When asked to prove his audacious claim he told the jhatka-wallah to sit back and observe. He then loosened his trousers and hum jahaan khade hote hein, line wahin sey shuru hoti hai while a group of women approached. Unfortunately for the DTC driver, his grandmother was among the group of unsuspecting women (who had come within eye shot of his shameless and immodest behavior). The grandmother, who had very poor eyesight thought that her grandson was a banana salesman and mai gareeb hoon na isliye. After sampling what she thought were his wares she yelled in disgust to the other ladies:"Kya! Mai kahti hoon, door ho jaa meri nazron sey?"
Two very
nice and thoughtful poems graced the Mooj Mail bag last week. The
first poem is hard to describe (it's kind of like a Haiku without having
Haiku-like characteristics). The second poem was a genuine tear jerker.
It was written by a despondent Mooj Head, who must be having a hard time
dealing with the recent loss of Hsing Hsing, the National Zoo's Giant Panda Bear.
El-Mo-Oj
by Garrison "Frost" Keller
Mooj, Mooj a magical man
Too bad he has spent time in the can
One day the guard in the yard
Turned his head and Mooj fled
He's on the run he's havn' fun
Is this anything like "Where's Waldo"?***(applause?)***
The Immense Anguish of Losing Hsing-Hsing
by ee Goings
Oh Hsing Hsing, what can I do?
I heard the news; this can’t be true!You lived your life oh so grand,
And now there’s sorrow across the landYou lived as though you had no care
You were our Nation’s Giant Panda BearA gift from China you came one day
In bamboo shoots you sat to playAnd now you’re dead and gone away
What remains of you, stuffed and on display
I sat silently in the back of the bus as it sped along toward Las Vegas.
Just about every seat on the coach was taken and most of the passengers
sat quietly, minding their own business. I kept my eyes glued to the back Bigsby’s head so that if he turned around I could duck.
But he never moved; he just sat there staring straight ahead. Sitting
next to Bigsby was an elderly woman who tried her hardest not to stare
at his mangled and distorted face (which was partly covered with bandages).
Finally Bigsby became annoyed with the woman and told her to stop gawking at him.
But she couldn’t help herself—his grotesqueness was just too much for her
to disregard. He finally
attacked the poor old lady and the bus driver quickly pulled over.
The driver tried to kick Bigsby off the bus but Bigsby picked him up and threw him through
the windshield. Other passengers tried to help the driver but they were
also thrown from the bus. (While all this was going on I just laid
low—trying not to make myself standout). When things finally calmed
down Bigsby climbed behind the wheel of the bus and began driving.
He was now totally insane with rage.
Bigsby drove like a man possessed (mostly on the wrong side of the road and passing cars and trucks like they were standing still). When traffic thickened near the Las Vegas city limits Bigsby continued along at the same rate of speed, smashing and destroying everything in his path. Finally he exited the freeway and began driving along the Vegas strip until he finally lost control of the bus and crashed into the fountain at Caesar’s Palace. The bus rolled over and came to a complete stop upside down in 3 feet of water. I quickly grabbed my moneybag and crawled out of the emergency hatch. I took a quick look around to see if Bigsby had survived (knowing instinctively that he had) and then quickly blended in with the growing crowd of spectators. I took advantage of the ensuing pandemonium and slipped away unnoticed. Walking as fast as I could I soon came to a giant hotel (it looked like a sphinx). I liked the look of this place and so I decided to stay there for a few days.
When I entered the hotel I must admit that I wasn't really looking my best—after all, I had just survived a major bus wreck (plus I was still “smoky” from my own car fire). I didn’t even make it inside the second set of sliding glass doors before two burly-looking security guards grabbed me and husked me away. Just as they were about to toss me into the gutter my moneybag dropped and a $1,000 bill flew out. The two security guards quickly picked up my money, returned it to my bag, handed the bag back to me and then carried me to the hotel door and threw me inside.
At the check-in counter I was told that there were no rooms available because some Saudi prince had reserved an entire section of the hotel. Not sure what to do I lied and told the clerk that I was the Saudi prince. He laughed and called over the manager, who promptly came over to see what the problem was. The clerk told the manager what I had told him and they both began laughing hysterically at me. I then dumped the contents of my moneybag out on the front desk and told them that if they could not accommodate "Prince Mooj" then I would just have to go someplace else! Their faces grew placid and I was immediately brought upstairs to the most luxurious suite in the hotel (I think it was the head of the sphinx). I couldn’t believe how well I was treated after that. Since I hadn’t eaten in a while I ordered room service and was brought up some of the best food I had ever tasted. As I ate Wayne Newton came up to sing to me and two guys named Siegfried and Roy joined me for desert. After the meal was over some showgirls gave me a bubble bath and then I had the most expensive clothes [that the hotel could find] sent up. Since I didn’t have an entourage the hotel provided me with one and then we all walked around the casino gambling.
The bright lights, pretty girls and alcoholic drinks began to get to me and soon I became reckless with my money. My losses began to add up and soon the hotel manager pulled me aside to inform me that I only had a few hundred thousand dollars remaining in my house account. But I was out of control by then and addicted to the action. I decided to shoot the works playing Baccarat—a game that I didn’t even know how to play. Soon I was as broke as the day I was born. Because I was a prince they didn’t throw me out; I was allowed to leave on my own volition.
I’m not sure how drunk I was but I was definitely in a relaxed state of mind because it just didn’t seem to bother me that I lost $3 million. There is really nothing left for me to do except wander the strip and hope that my luck will change—and it probably will—for the worse. Continued next week.........
My fellow Mooj Heads, The Right Honorable Mooj has once again decided to allow me the privilege of gracing his newsletter with yet another one of my thoughtful 400 word essays (on the topic of my choice). Before I begin, however, I would like to issue a statement concerning a recent essay published on my own web site entitled Mr. Green Jeans and Captain Kangaroo Were Raging Homosexual Fascists, Who Killed Thousands of Innocent Children with Binary Nuclear Weapons. It turns out that I may have been wrong about that claim. I apologize to anyone inconvenienced by these thoughtless and reckless allegations. I will try to be more careful in the future and actually check out my sources. Several persons have also written in and advised me to double check my facts and figures concerning another essay I wrote called Judge Ito and Judge Bork are Evil Twin Brothers, Who Dance Nude at Club Juana in Orlando, Florida. I guess I probably should. Since I just wasted 200 words giving out apologies I guess it's pointless to continue on with my 400 word essay. I guess I'll just wait until next week or post it on my own web site. Until then....bye.
Well minions I do attest that now it's time for Mooj to rest. As soon as I post this newsletter I'm going to try and figure a way out to meet up with Jeff W. so that I can go with him to the Azores to look for his missing treasure. But for now I'll just hang out here at the Las Vegas homeless veteran's shelter.
