Ah-blah. Ah-blah.
The attractive check-out girl glances at his purchases, then flirtatiously asks: “Say. You’re single, aren’t you?”
The guy sarcastically answers: “How’d you guess?”
The checker sweetly replies: “Because you’re so blankety-blanking ugly.”
Actually, the babe banana counter didn’t actually say, “Blankety-blanking ugly.” But I think you get our metaphorical drift about the state of this guy’s real or perceived ugliness.
This joke got me thinking. How come we don’t have a Mr. and/or Miss Santa Clarita Valley Ugly Person? On any given weekend, you can’t throw a dirt clod in this town without hitting a beauty pageant. But an Ugly Contest?
We ain’t got one.
Our local hospital, Henry Hold The … Hold The … uh, Hold The … what’s it called? Henry “Something The” Mayo Memorial? I can’t remember. Oh well. Our local hospital regularly catches and releases thousands of debutantes into the wild. We have two Miss SCV beauty pageants — the regular and the Be Fruitful And Multiply one. We’ve got SCV Belles coming out the kazoo plus all manner of prom kings and homecoming queens.
But no Miss Ugly SCV. No Mr. Ugly SCV.
I know. I know. Some of you are already thinking: “Hey, Boston. You’re already Mr. Santa Clarita Valley. Why not simply add the obvious adjective of ‘Ugly’ to the heavy crown?”
I could. But it would be an obvious and Obamaesque abuse of power.
I’d like to see some transmission shop in Canyon Country — no. Let’s make it Valencia … a transmission shop in Valencia — have an annual Ugly Homo Sapienius SClaritacus Contest. We get some local deep pockets corporation (like Bob Kellar; he’ll donate money to anything.) to throw a few bills for a rubber chicken extravaganza. You know. Cocktails. Schmoozing. Dinner. Then, hooded musclemen wheel out the contestants in steel cages lined with straw.
“And, representing the Two Guys From Prison Who Own A Tire Company, 99427 Soledad Canyon Road, in cage No. 1, we give you — the shop teacher from Bowman High — Mrs. Rhesus Congolium!!!”
The emcee parts the velvet curtain covering the cage. Rhesus (pronounced, “RAY-sooss”) sticks her head between the bars, her 5-pound lip falling to expose sharpened teeth and actual hair between the gums.
“Cripes!” gasps the crowd. “Argh. She be a randy devil beast!! Burn her! Hit her with sticks!!” Polite audience applause.
Mrs. Congolium smiles, makes a raspberry noise and bends over to show the crowd her adult diapers and pat herself on the behind.
I’d pay a 100 bucks to see that.
The next cage is unveiled to reveal a hideous six-legged creature with a Picasso-inspired head, a squid beak in his stomach and the obvious side effects of too much nuclear radiation.
“And next we have Bob Mants, who works for Acme Discount Genetic Engineering in the Valencia Industrial Center. Bob handles P.R. for Rotary!!”
Single woman (Marlee Lauffer) stands in audience and starts screaming. Rest of pageant panics a la Japanese monster movie and breaks for the exits.
I could see CalArts entering a Mr. Ugly SCV contest. That’s all. I just could see CalArts entering a Mr. Ugly SCV. Not naming any names. Not making any specific accusations. I could just see it happening.
I could see my old high school coach, Fran Wrage, being nominated for Most Take Your Breath Away Ugly not so much because Fran is, but rather that he moved out of town over a year ago so what the hell can he do against a powerful and uncaring media?
But let’s not just limit this to my own prejudices and eye for beauty. You readers out there. Use the e-mail. Your letters to the editor. Heat up the faxes and phones. Send The West Ranch Beacon your nominations so we can get this fest rolling. Nominate the hunchback on your block.
Let the beatings begin …
John Boston has earned 119 major awards for writing stuff. Besides The Mighty West Ranch Beacon, his work appears in the prestigious thebostonreport.net just about every darn day. His commentaries represent his own opinions and not necessarily the views of any organization he may be affiliated with or those of the West Ranch Beacon. Read Boston’s daily blog, his Daily English Muffins, the Adventures of Job Hunter and more of John Boston’s award-winning commentary on thebostonreport.net