NOTE FROM RUSS: The following post comes from my brother, who is a lifelong resident of Kansas. His nom de plume will be “Brother Bean,” which stems from his childhood nickname for being a lanky son of a gun. I never did like to wrestle with this dude either. He’d pin ya good.
Brother Bean had to raise an eyebrow when he read the latest Lugenpresse tall-tale and yarn about an American Airlines pilot who, on a long haul flight to Phoenix, Arizona, threatened to put the plane down in Kansas and dump off Trumpians there in the dead of winter if they didn’t stop chanting “USA, USA, USA.”
This scene harkens back to Steve Martin and John Candy in “Planes, Trains and Automobiles.” The duo was stranded in Wichita, Kansas, during a snow storm. Maybe the same script writers? I hope you agree that Brother Bean can spin a good yarn in his own right.
The encounter with Kansans, naturally.
By Brother Bean
I commend the pilot who threatened to drop patriots or Trump supporters or whoever off in the middle of Kansas. I can imagine a hush of terror gripping the people on that flight.
For one, they could actually have been flying above Kansas, which is dangerous enough; and secondly, being stranded here would surely have resulted in a death worse than death. I’ve seen with my own eyes the remains of outsiders scattered throughout the state — or is it the nation of Kansas?
Anyhow, I can think of no worse place for anyone to be.
Have you heard the magical-thinking line from “The Wizard of Oz,” “I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore”? Good! Stay not in Kansas.
This is a public service announcement to all human beings everywhere in the world no matter the race, religion or political affiliation: DO NOT come to Kansas. I repeat, DO NOT come to Kansas!
It’s a nightmare here. A living HELL. I’m not kidding.
Rattlesnakes, tumble weeds, stinging insects, flies and mosquitoes are the norm here. They infect every inch of the vast never-ending stretches of barren heat-scorched sage brush and dried-up creeks, where in summer the temperatures commonly reach 125 degrees Fahrenheit.
It’s so hot, you can fry eggs on your counter INSIDE the house, if you’re lucky enough to have eggs, or a counter, or a house.
In the winter, the temperatures can plunge to minus 75 degrees Fahrenheit, with blinding snow and ice sheets of freezing rain so thick that the poor people here cower, huddled in their hovels around smoky wood stoves for weeks at a time. Only, instead of wood, they use buffalo dung as fuel, if they are lucky enough to have fuel at all. If not we have to burn dried grass and sometimes coal (if we’re lucky) we find along the railroad tracks that has fallen from coal cars that pass through on their way to civilized societies elsewhere over the barren horizon.
Furthermore, everyone is aware of the tornadoes.
Now, imagine not only a tornado (near daily occurrence here) screaming and shrieking just outside your hut and, after totally leveling everything as far as the eye can see, you think the danger has passed, but noooo.
Suddenly, the snakes lifted into the sky by the tornado come raining down all around; venomous, all of them, hissing and angry and so thick it takes days for them to slither back into their dens. But not before they’ve bitten tens of thousands of people, overwhelming our already Covid-packed emergency tents. Correct, tents.
There are no hospitals here, or roads, or infrastructure, so don’t bother to travel or visit ’cause you can’t. I’m serious, stay away.
When it’s not tornadoes, lightning strikes and snakes, it’s the flies. They actually LATCH on to the flesh of anything dead or alive, and they don’t just buzz; they bite. Real hard.
Over in Colorado, they have mosquitoes, but they know NOTHING about insects. All of them here carry diseases. So even if you are not bitten (which you will be), their diseases are carried by the wind for 200 feet, according to the CDC, and they can be asymptomatic. So, yes, folks, typically you won’t be showing symptoms. Thus, you must be tested, and often. And they stick it far up into your nostril.
As for other wildlife, there are a few mangy squirrels. They are vicious. Rats, too. Most of the wildlife has rabies, so if you enjoy getting vaccines, try our frequent rabies shot regimen. On second thought, don’t ’cause there aren’t any paved roads to get to the medical tents, just rocky trails.
Also, if you are looking for excitement, you’ll have to be into cow tipping, because that’s all there is to do. It’s that or join one of the farmer’s cults. But I recommend cow tipping, since all the farmers do is work, and who wants to do anything productive!? That’s why we regard them as a cult; and besides, the only work here you can do is gather buffalo dung and snake venom or flies that we export to other parts of country where they have fish. There aren’t any fish here.
The rivers and lakes all turned to blood years ago. I could go on and on, but hopefully you get the idea.
It is said a wise man will instruct others, and I may not be wise (because I live in Kansas), but you’d be doing yourselves a favor not to come here or even to fly over.
I honestly think the rest of the country should consider having Kansas excluded from the union. Save yourselves. Most of us Kansans would probably be okay with that. Yessiree Bob, you are best off there in New York or California, or in sunny Portland.