September 2017 issue

The Small Town Times

September 2017 

Mike and Verna-May Litoris, Co-Editors of this here newsletter

September has been a busy month around Small Town as townsfolk are scurrying around getting ready for Winter. There’s canning needing to be done, firewood that needs to be chopped, and the outhouses need to be maintained.

In this month’s issue, our town gossip, Deborah Poirier tells us about how one jalopy’s joy ride ended in tragedy. And I give my first restaurant review from Uptown. So, I hope you enjoy reading this edition.

Deborah Poirier, Town Gossip Columnist

Car Gets One-Way Ticket to Impound

It was a dreary fall evening when some teenagers came across a gruesome discovery. As they were walking in the woods they came across a body lying in the pathway.

One of them had a cell phone. They made the 911 call. Fortunately, I heard it on the radar and headed that way so that I could get my story.

I made my way to the wooded area where the body was discovered. The police were there and the yellow tape was already up. I made my way to the police and asked them a few questions to see what had transpired here.

Word was that the body had been there only a few hours. There was fur all over the place so it was hard to tell the exact cause of death. As I moved closer to the scene, I discovered that it was a dead deer

They were still looking over the scene, but it looked like they would need forensics to come to the scene and process the area for clues. In the meantime, the body was sent for an autopsy.

Farmer John did the autopsy and discovered that the body was struck by a vehicle. After the scene was processed, we began the search for the killer. After having all the cars in town go through the lineup, we finally found the car that had caused this heinous crime and incarcerated it for drunk driving.

During the year, this case finally made it to trial. The car was found guilty of all charges and the jury’s verdict was that it be impounded for life.

convicted jalopy

Uptown: The Fancy ‘Burb that has Everything

Mike Litoris, Logger Extraordinaire and Co-Editor of this here newsletter

Well, I was fixing to take the Mrs. on a really special day to a hog-tying contest in Small Town but my teenage daughter, Myka Litoris, insisted that the wife may like something more civilized. She told me about this tea house in Uptown that she thought her Mama would like.

So I left early this morning with the Mrs. to get to Uptown. Now, for those readers who don’t know – Uptown is a fancy suburb of Metropola (a really big city). Uptown is filled with all those rich city folk with indoor plumbing.

Anyway, we went to the fancy tea room my daughter wanted us to go to.  As we entered the fancy place, I held my wallet in my front pocket tightly knowing this place would hurt it.

It was definitely fancy enough with all sorts of antique dishes – the type that Granny would display in her china cabinet.

Then they brought over a menu of teas that were as long as my arms if they were laid end-to-end.  After a lot of looking and talking, the Mrs. and I decided on some fruit teas.  The waitress brought the teapots over and got them steeping over a candle.

Then we looked at the menu for food. While the Mrs. was “oooo’ing” and “aw’n” at the food – I was silently screaming at the prices. Some of the items I’d never heard of before – just what is a Coquille St. Jacques? (pronounced “crock-kill saint jack.”)



Anyway, while the Mrs. was taking pronunciation lessons from the waitress, I was eyein’ the booze menu. Cause Lordy! I needed a drink!

When the desserts came, I knew my pain of feeling like a logger in a china shop was almost over. Wait a minute! I am a logger! Anyway, here’s some photos.

This is an assortment of desserts. I believe it’s pronounced “pet it fours”







Chocolate Souffle (soof-full)











Then the bill came. I’m still consoling myself but I am glad that the Mrs. enjoyed herself. Fellas, your wife is priceless, a few dollars spent showing her a nice time goes a long way. And I do mean a long way. On the way home, she picked up some t-bone steaks and beer. So, I got what I wanted out of the deal too.

Many Thanks to our contributors:

Annette Joyal as Deborah Poirier

Jessie Blair as Mike Litoris


July 2017 Newsletter

July 2017 Newsletter

Introduction by Mike Litoris

Mike and the Mrs.

Summertime is always a flurry of activity here in Small Town with the city folks wanting to come and visit our quiet town. This month is our busiest month since Christmas of 2016 and we have 7 articles! Whew! I had to wipe my eyebrows with a kerchief just thinking about all the work that went into this issue.

In this issue:  Aunt Blabby reassures the town pervert, Deborah Poirier updates us on the explosion that started the forest fires, Margo Prentice shares a story about bee stings, and there’s a group discussion about lumbersexuals.

So I hope you enjoy this month’s newsletter!

Local woman wears fake glasses to look smarter

by Mike Litoris

Local woman, Sarah-Anne Snarkley wearing fake glasses

All the residents of Small Town gasped in surprise when Sarah-Anne Snarkley appeared on the main street wearing fake glasses yesterday. Snarkley, who is described by locals as a person whose IQ is lower than the posted speed limit at a dead end, said she wanted to impress the new resident in town.

This reporter had to inquire, “What new resident?”

“The tall, handsome fella over there,” she said as she pointed towards the street.

I looked around but I couldn’t see anybody.

I said, “I’m not sure what you’re pointing at.”

“The man with the dog over there,” she said as she pointed towards a dog.

I started laughing and said, “That’s a lamp post with Sheila Dunham’s dog relieving itself on it!”

Snarkley got all huffy and walked away from me. She really is as dumb as a post!

Dear Aunt Blabby

Aunt Blabby, Advice Columnist

“Dear Aunt Blabby, I can’t enjoy sex unless I am wearing a lumberjacket and work boots….and is it wrong that I married my wife because she is flat as a board and had never been laid? Sincerely, I’m a lumbersexual and I’m ok”

“Dear LIAO,
Lumber jackets are warm soft n fluffy and help to avoid chafing best thing really cuz who wants chafing during sex right? As for loving your wife cuz she’s flat as a board n never been laid, well that’s better then being a board with nails that stick in ya whenever ya do the dirty, not to mention the splinters…..does she stand in the yard with her arms out and let the cats climb her?”

Explosion in the park

by Deborah Poirier

Town Gossip Columnist

 All of a sudden, we heard a big explosion. It looked like it was coming from the National Park. It was summer and the park was full of campers. I followed the fire team as they made their way to the site.  I had heard that the Fire Chief was having an affair with the town’s only arsonist and I wanted to get the scoop on that story.  I was bitterly disappointed when nobody would dish out the details on the affair and instead I have to present this story.

As we arrived at the explosion site, it was packed with families trying to get out. I saw a perfect occasion for interviews.

I was lucky to speak to the bear family as they were running for cover. They were the perfect interviewees as they were close to that campsite.

They brought their cubs to have them experience camp life. They showed them how to scare people and take the food that was left behind. As they were eating, they were startled by a big boom that came close by. They thought it was a shotgun blast. They were worried that hunting season had started early.

A few members of the Bear family

As they were scurrying their cubs to safety, they turned around to see the campsite a few blocks away engulfed in flames.

I then had the opportunity to speak with the teenage chipmunks. They were enjoying their loud music and partying when they heard the blast. They were curious so they had to take a look.

One of the teenage chipmunks

The fire was blazing high, but they were able to see another family still around the campsite. They recognized the moose family. They assisted them to the entrance so they could be examined by paramedics.

Mom Moose and flatulent son

I also had the opportunity to briefly speak with the moose family as they were being checked by paramedics. The head of the household said that he started the campfire with toothpicks and branches that he found nearby. All was going well when all of a sudden his son farted in the direction of the campfire and that is how the explosion happened. They did not know what hit them.

Explosion triggered by a methane leak from Son Moose

Bee Sting

by Margo Prentice

Margo Prentice, Columnist

When Billie Bob the three-year-old son of Sara ran through the door screaming, Sara was alarmed.

“Bite me, something bite me. Look see my head.”

He was playing outside when he came running into the house.

Yes, there was a definite bite on his ear. Sara saw the stinger and got him to sit still long enough to pull it out with tweezers. He had never been bitten before so she didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t very long until his ear got bigger and bigger.

It got so big that she could see the light of day through it. He wouldn’t let her touch it and after a short time. He said, “Don’t hurt Mommy.” But did he look strange! Looking lop-sided and with his small stature, his ear made him look like a garden dwarf. Sara could not contain her laughter.

He looked at her with his dark brown eyes, and shouted, “No laugh at me Mommy.”

She just could not suppress her laughter. Sara gave him anti histamine and sent him to his room and told him to lie down on his bed. When he came back into the kitchen the ear was still big and at the point where the bee stung him, was a point! She started to laugh again.

Sara had to go to the store so she put him in the car seat and off they drove. She put a hat on him but the big, red pointed ear just stuck out of the side of his head. In the store, he was well-behaved, but oh my, the stares. She overheard, “Look at that little boy with the deformed ear. Or so cute he looks like one of Santa’s elves.

She brought him home and still had to hold back laughing. He wasn’t in any pain.

“I’m not a bad mother, am I?” she thought.

Sara decided to dress him in green and put the cap on him. Then told him to sit in the front yard rockery and wait for their neighbour who would be coming home at any moment.

“Now just stand still, point you head with your new big ear showing and when Mr. Ballski drives by, wave at him.”

She felt like she had a living little elf in my front garden rock garden.  When Mr. Ballski drove past he slowed down looked at my elf son, peeped the horn and shouted, “Very funny. ”

To this day even though Billie Bob is all grown she can still close her eyes and see her little boy-child with the giant see-through ear and smiles. Sara often wonders if she was a bad mother.

Town Honours Technology Inventor

by Mike Litoris

Mike Litoris, Lumberjack and Editor of The Small Town Times

Twenty Small Towners showed up at the Town Hall today to honour Raymond Samuels. Samuels is known in these parts as the man who invented toilet seat warmers for outhouses. Samuels is a roly-poly, down-to-earth farmer in his mid-50s. We spoke to Samuels to get his reaction.

“How does it feel to be honored by the town?”

Samuels, “It was a surprise!”

“What gave you the idea for the toilet seat warmers?

Samuels, “I got inspired by having to use the outhouse during that -40C cold snap last winter. I knew I had to do something once I felt Jack Frost nipping at my butt. My wife suggested that perhaps I should warm up the seat with a hot water bottle from now on. That’s when I started to work on Operation Hot Buns a.k.a toilet seat warmers.”

“Many people are dubbing you “The Prince of Cheeks”. What do you think of that title?”

Samuels laughed and said, “I’m okay with that even though it’s cheeky.”

Two Charged in Mailbox Theft

by Mike Litoris and The Old Bastrich

There was utter chaos when the town’s only mailbox went missing last Monday.  Frank Hardy was yelling and pointing at where the mailbox was supposed to be located. The mailman was whinin’ and cryin’ and snottin’ at the nose because he wasn’t sure where to pick up the mail now. Panic ensued when Jordan Alexis did his weekly nude jog passed the scene. The police were quick to respond to this emergency with kleenex boxes and hot chocolate for everyone.  Afterall, chocolate puts people in a good mood.

Once emotions were placated, the police began to search for clues.  They grew suspicious when they followed the trail of letters back to the Pinkpumps’ house.

Trail of mail leading to the Pinkpumps’ house

The elderly twins, Prissy and Penelope Pinkpumps were born in the house the day before the stock market crash of 1929.  It seems the twins heisted the mailbox after finishing a crate of jellied raspberry cordial. They were tired of going outside to mail their letters so they decided to bring the mailbox home.

The elderly twins have been charged with the theft of a mailbox and thinking while intoxicated.  The mailbox has been returned to its rightful place and the mailman’s purpose in life has been restored.

Small Talk

by Mike Litoris

Small Talk is where I interview people at a local bar – before they get sent to the drunk tank.  This month’s question focuses on the term the big city folks in Metropola are using: Lumbersexual.

Annatooshus Belle, Paper Airplane Technician

“Lumbersexual? How do they deal with all those splinters?”





Franny Farkle, Toy Dog Wrangler

“Sex with lumber? Them big city folks sure are strange!”





Terry Floyd, Professional Anarchist, and Owner of The Anarchist Cafe

“What a man does in the privacy of his own home with a 2×4 is his business!”





With great appreciation, I would like to Thank our contributors:

Annette Joyal as Deborah Poirier,  Margo Prentice, Gord Pollock as Terry Floyd, C J Jackman Zigante as Aunt Blabby, Anne Bierworth as Annatooshus Belle, Frances Hamlin as Franny Farkle, Ron Kearse as The Old Bastrich, Jessie Blair as Mike Litoris.


Two Charged in Mailbox Theft

Two Charged in Mailbox Theft

by Mike Litoris and The Old Bastrich

There was utter chaos when the town’s only mailbox went missing last Monday.  Frank Hardy was yelling and pointing at where the mailbox was supposed to be located. The mailman was whinin’ and cryin’ and snottin’ at the nose because he wasn’t sure where to pick up the mail now. Panic ensued when Jordan Alexis did his weekly nude jog passed the scene. The police were quick to respond to this emergency with kleenex boxes and hot chocolate for everyone.  Afterall, chocolate puts people in a good mood.

Once emotions were placated, the police began to search for clues.  They grew suspicious when they followed the trail of letters back to the Pinkpumps’ house.

The trail of mail leading to the Pinkpumps’ house

The elderly twins, Prissy and Penelope Pinkpumps were born in the house the day before the stock market crash of 1929.  It seems the twins heisted the mailbox after finishing a crate of jellied raspberry cordial. They were tired of going outside to mail their letters so they decided to bring the mailbox home.

The elderly twins have been charged with the theft of a mailbox and thinking while intoxicated.  The mailbox has been returned to its rightful place and the mailman’s purpose in life has been restored.



June Newsletter 2017

June 2017 Issue

Mike and Verna-May Litoris, Co-Editors

The Mrs. and I have been working tirelessly on this month’s newsletter. We now have an Advice Columnist named Aunt Blabby.

Barton Frogmeade reports on an interview he had at Small Town University.  Deborah Poirier provides the latest gossip.  There’s also a report about the monthly Philosopher’s Debate, and this month edition of Small Talk. Enjoy!

Dear Aunt Blabby

Aunt Blabby, Advice Columnist

This month’s letter comes from someone named Transparent. 

“Dear Aunt Blabby, ever since I started wearing my snazzy new invisibility cloak, my wife treats me like I’m not even here. What should I do? “- Transparent

Dear Transparent, It seems to me that you could be looking at a positive, not a negative. This way all them things you used to get yelled at for she can’t see you doing them. So now you can go on ahead and do them things and watch her cuss at the empty room. Win, win right?


Reverend Tewkesbury stormed out of the meditation class he was teaching this morning; claimed he couldn’t focus


Taking the bait

 By Deborah Poirier

Town Gossip Columnist

It was a beautiful sunny morning when Earl Jacobsen decided to take his son and their friends out on their new boat and go fishing.

Earl got the boat ready to go by filling up the gas tank and making sure that the boat was ready for a great fishing trip. They all went to the Gunderson’s Bait Store to get their supplies.

As Earl approached the store, he noticed that there seemed to be a tense situation developing between 3 men, a woman, and Gunderson, the store owner. Earl called me in to find out what was happening.

Sacré bleu! By the time I arrived the Police were there. The argument had escalated with one of the men making a rude gesture at the woman. The woman responded by grabbing his bait bucket and refusing to give it back. It looked like there was going to be a riot for sure!

Mon Dieu! It turns out that the store could not find its bait! Well, only Gunderson could be that careless! Rumour has it that he drinks more than he thinks if you know what I mean.

The police continued their search for the missing bait. They found the store owner’s cat feasting on the bait at the back of the shed.

It looks like the fish are not the only ones taking the bait.


Small Town University

by Barton Frogmeade

Barton Frogmeade

Today I have the great privilege of interviewing Dr. Bernice Fabelhaft, Professor of Linguistics and Fashion Science at Small Town University.

Barton: Dr. Fabelhaft, Small Town is all abuzz with the opening of the new Small Town University. What gave you the idea of opening a university here?

Dr. Fabelhaft: Well, as you know, Barton, my late fourth husband ran one of two funeral homes here in Small Town. After his sudden passing, I was left to decide what to do with the place. With health care all the rage, and people living longer and longer, death just isn’t the growth industry it used to be. So instead, I decided to invest in our youth, and open the first university in Small Town.

Barton: Quite so, but isn’t it a bit of a stretch to call it a university?

Dr. Fabelhaft: Not at all! I turned the upstairs offices into a library, converted the mortuary into a science lab, and the chapel into a pub. That gives us arts, sciences, and alcohol: everything you need for a modern university.

Barton: Could you explain the research you’re planning at this new institution? I’m not sure our readers understand the connection between linguistics and fashion science.

Dr. Fabelhaft: We’re at a very exciting time in the development of language. I wrote my Ph.D. dissertation on the similarities between ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics and the growing use of emoji in social media. What we’re observing now is the rise of the new glitterati that communicates on social media using symbols instead of words.

Barton: That’s fascinating, but how does it relate to fashion, and what does science have to do with any of this?

Dr. Fabelhaft: In fashion science, we develop complex formulas to forecast how social trends filter down from the centers of high culture to the lowest common denominators in places like Small Town. Based on my latest computations, I predict that by 2050, no one in Small Town will be talking to each other. Everyone will communicate just by sending stickers, GIFs, and emoji in Facebook Messenger. The written word will be long forgotten.

Barton: You could be onto something. I spoke to our town gossip, Deborah Poirier, just last week, and she told me that half the people in Small Town aren’t on speaking terms with her anymore.


Mike Litoris, Full-Time Logger, and Part-time Editor

Small Talk

by Mike Litoris

Small Talk is where I interview people at a local bar – before they get sent to the drunk tank.  This month’s question focuses on tourism in Small Town.

The Small Town Business Association, which consists of 3 farmers, an anarchist, and Mrs. Baker’s cat, want to increase tourism to our town this summer.

The town’s business association took a poll to find out what about our biggest tourism draws. The poll showed that the biggest tourism draw, after moonshine, is our friendliness and coming in third place is our gender neutral outhouses. The business association was fresh out of ideas once the poll was finished.

I went to the straight to the heart and soul of Small Town – its bars. I wanted to hear suggestions from folks:

Franny Farkle, Toy Dog Wrangler


“I think we need a cow chip tossing contest.  Maybe we should add some of that moonshine too and call it The Chip n’ Ales Tournament.”




Petunia Flowerchild, Professional Tree Hugger

“Moose Tipping! La, la, la, la, la!”






Margo Prentice

“Why can’t we have tours of Mrs. Baker’s manure sculptures? They’re already on display in her garden.”




Mike Litoris


“I think we should offer the city folk eco tours to the dump to see the bears.”




Philosopher’s Debate held at Anarchist Cafe

The Philosopher’s Debate at the Anarchist Cafe that was held on June 1.  This month’s topic:  If I enter the kitchen, and forget what I came for, will going into the living room help me to remember?

This was the poster for this month’s Philosopher’s Debate

The debate got underway at 7:00 p.m.  Present at the debate was Franny Farkle, Terry Floyd, Mike Litoris, and Petunia Flowerchild.

Franny: “I think retracing your steps can be helpful.”

Terry:  “Space is an illusion. It’s all part of the system.”

Franny: “What system is space part of?”

Terry: “The injustice system! All this physics and thinking all this exists. It’s them trying to get to you!”

Franny: “Matter is a part of physics and space is a part of matter.”

Terry: “You’re twisting my words, man!”

Franny and Terry kept arguing back and forth.

Mike: “I need a beer.”

Mike goes and pours himself a mug at the bar.

Petunia just started singing the song “Loving You” by Minnie Ripperton.

At the end of the debate, Terry was upset and charged everyone more for their beer.

The next Philosopher’s Debate will be on July 15.

The Small Town Times would like to say a Big Thank You to all of their contributors:

David Blair as Barton Frogmeade, Annette Joyal as Deborah Poirier, CJ Jackman Zigante as Aunt Blabby, Katherine Stringer as Petunia Flowerchild, Frances Hamlin as Franny Farkle, Gord Pollock as Terry Floyd, Margo Prentice as herself, and Jessie Blair as Mike Litoris.


Outhouse and Home

Outhouse and Home is the most popular magazine in Canuck County.  This issue prepares us for the upcoming tax season with some sage advice.

September 2016 Issue

Mike Litoris smoking Mike Litoris, Editor

Mike Litoris here. Welcome to the second issue of The Small Town times! We have some new writers here in Small Town who have contributed to this month’s newsletter. I hope you enjoy it.

The Small Town Times is a place to know about what’s new in town before your gossipy Aunt Martha does.

 margo-prentice Margo Prentice, Writer

Old Man’s Shopping Club

There is a weird cult of old men who belong to secret groups of, “retired grocery shopper guys.” They have meetings in malls.  In warm weather they meet at designated bus stops where they sit on the benches. The topics on their meeting agendas involve coupons, the best deals and where the sales are. They compare prices and are very competitive; trying to outdo each other with the amounts of money they can save.

My husband has an envelope of coupons stuffed in his back pant pocket. He carries flyers with him and circles the items he is considering buying. If ham is on sale at more than one store, it is outlined in red in different flyers. The store that has best price is where he goes to shop.

Like many retired older men, many decide to take over the grocery shopping. This is not an unusual or new phenomenon. A group of older men was sitting having coffee at the Mall. My husband told me he met these guys when he saw them looking at the food flyers at a big round table. He asked what they were doing. They told him and invited him to join them. He joined in and from that first meeting there was no looking back.

There is a secret ritual of coupon poker; I have only watched from a distant and heard a little. They bid like five card stud, only with coupons. “I’ll have two coupons and they pick from the pile.” The coupons are slid carefully across the table to the bidder. Then the bidding begins. I bid two Safeway orange juice specials; I’ll raise you, three Thrifty store beef specials. The best coupon poker player ends up with a table of coupons. He is allowed to trade them at a later time.

They have maps showing the best and fastest routes to the stores on their lists.  It is extremely important that the “OMSSC” (Old Man’s Secret Shopping Club), gets to the store that has the best price as quickly as needed to get to a sale item while the supplies last. It is a slowed down type of feeding frenzy.

They have a telephone list and phone each other to notify members where and when to meet. The business of serious bargain hunting starts at these meetings; they drink coffee, scan through flyers and discuss sales. My husband says they are getting t-shirts made with, “OMSSC”on them.

I learned early in my marriage never to tell my husband that I like something. Honesty hasn’t been the best policy for me. It all started when I mentioned how much I liked Peek Freen cookies, the ones with the jam in the center. “Yum, I sure love these cookies, dear!”

His dedicated mission is to buy these treats when they are on sale. He will buy four boxes at a time. This has been going on for years and I can hardly stand them anymore. When I open my cupboard there is a whole row of Peak Freens on my top shelf. Storage had become a problem.

He tells me, I will save enough money for a holiday each year.” He does save but not enough for a holiday, maybe a visit and a good dinner in Surrey.

It is just too much of a good thing. I do have a strategy though, every week or so I donate boxes of Peek Freen cookies the food bank bag. He hardly notices they are gone. Maybe I should be honest with him and tell him I don’t like them anymore. I just don’t want to upset the ‘apple cart’ of his dedicated sale shopping. I wouldn’t want him to lose face with his secret club buddies either.

Mike Litoris smoking Mike Litoris, Editor

“Big Five” Introduce Robbie

In a move that has stunned townspeople, the Big Five banks have merged into one financial institution just for Small Town and area.  The mouthpiece for the banks, Ms. Maureen Pawn, explains, “We’re very pleased to announce that we have a new Customer Service Representative to look after all your banking needs! His name is Robbie, and he’s a robot!”

The Big Five banks announced this past spring that they would be closing all their branches in Small Town and the surrounding area. The Town Council have been struggling to come up with banking alternatives. So when Ms. Pawn notified the town’s bigwigs about a solution, they were eager to attend the press conference. Myself, the town council and the town drunk, Nick, who was passed out and snoring something awful, all made an appearance at this historic event.

Robbie is stainless steel and looks like a cartoon. I brought up the similarity to Ms. Pawn who said, “Our best research indicated that we design him to look like Elmer Fudd’s robot in the episode Robot Rabbit so that our older customers would feel calm and reminisce about their childhoods. It’s a good way to distract them from our 12% increase in service fees.”

I asked, “Does he talk?”

Ms. Pawn said, “He’s programmed to speak in five different languages except English.”

“He doesn’t speak English?”

Then there was a loud crash, and we turned around to see that Nick had fallen off his chair.

Pawn didn’t take any notice and said, “But the robot speaks five different languages, it’s hard to find that skill level in an employee. Best of all, we don’t have to pay him because he’s a robot. He can just stay at the bank branch and work all the time. He’s a model employee so Small Town is actually getting the best of this situation.”

I asked, “How does that help the customers?”

Giving me the big ignore, Ms. Pawn said, “Robbie is programmed to deal with all kinds of situations. For instance, whenever there’s hostility from a customer, Robbie is programmed to stop everything and play soothing lounge music until the customer either calms down or walks away.”

When this reporter mentioned that ignoring the needs of bank customers in small towns is what the Big Five does best, Ms. Pawn started to hum lounge music.

From the News Desk

Everyone was anticipating who would win September 10’s tractor pull contest.  Last year’s winner was Verna-May Litoris and she returned to defend her title. Her main competitor was Ida Thompson. Both ladies are known to pull their tractors several feet in under a minute. Yesterday’s competition was tense as both contestants were neck-to-neck.

Suddenly, the tension was broken by the screams of a man running between the two tractors being chased by the Wilson family’s dog. The man crossed the finish line first, followed by the dog. We never did find out the name of the man because he kept running away from the dog. So, first place went to the dog.

The Wilsons are very proud of their dog!

Here’s a picture from 5-year old Timmy Wilson:timmy


Barton Frogmeade, Writerbarton-frogmeade

Sunday School Doubles Attendance

Recently a worried parent spoke to Reverend Bertha Brackenridge at Small Town United Church. The parent was concerned that their child was spending a lot of time speaking and playing with an invisible friend.

After reassuring the parent that this was not unusual behaviour, the Reverend realized that this was a great opportunity to present her idea for the next Sunday School class. Reverend Brackenridge is asking all of the children in the class to invite their invisible friends to attend a special lesson this Sunday. At that time she will introduce them to “my invisible friend Jesus”.

If all goes well, attendance at the Sunday school could double.

Bad Poetry Contest

August 18 was Bad Poetry Day in Small Town.  The winner was Santy, the runners-up were Barton Frogmeade and Gertrude Smith. There were two prizes. The first was publication in this here newsletter, and the second, was not having to take their cod liver oil for the day.

santy Santy, Winner of the Bad Poetry Contest. 

His poem reminds us that winter is coming and we best be prepared. So get your stewing pots ready:

A squirrel is a many-splendored thing
A stew, a flying rat
The tail for a hat
A weird companion in the bath
Ponder that

barton-frogmeade Barton Frogmeade is the 1st runner-up

With poems I am ever so slick
just watch me write a limerick
it’s not like haiku
it’s three lines plus two
it’s the rhyming that makes it so sick

gertrude-smith Gertrude Smith, 2nd runner-up

He played the drum, While trying to hum, and drinking rum

…too tired.Please submit for me. Thx. Goodnight.


We would like to say Thank You to our contributors:

Margo Prentice, Sean Dwyer as Santy, David Blair as Barton Frogmeade, Tabetha Farnell as Gertrude Smith, and Jessie Blair as Mike Litoris