Groucho, Harpo, Chico and Sometimes Karlo

"Is that an ice pick in your pocket, or are you happy to see me?"

Once upon a time, there were three little tax accountants, Ferdinand, Rastus, and Lev. Ferdinand and Rastus were, as you might tell from their ties, graduates of the Wharton School.

Little Lev, the littlest tax accountant of them all, wore no tie, as he was a socialist.

Lev was an early riser so it was his job to burn the toast and milk the eggs each morning. “Lev, you’re a bomb-throwing Trotskyite,” chortled Rastus, burying an ice pick in the back of Lev’s head as he entered bankruptcy.

The Boys on the set of Go East, 1931

“Nah,” said Ferdinand, combing his fetlocks and dropping his H’s, “‘e ain’t neever. ‘e’s a wee little Bolshevik-Leninist if ever I seen one. And I’ve seen one.”

Now, as we all know, Trotsky was a devout Marxist, his favorite being Harpo,which really amounts to the same thing.

“FABULOUS!” screeched Lev, putting out a small fire that had broken out on in the small of his front, “I’ve got a luverly bunch of cashew nuts!” “Ya don’t neever,” snarled Ferdy, and shot them all dead in a heap.

And they all died happily ever after.

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~ by The 1955 Hudson on August 31, 2010.

2 Responses to “Groucho, Harpo, Chico and Sometimes Karlo”

  1. Boys and girls, leaving all Marxisms aside, I think it is high time we congratulate Mr. H for celebrating his birthday Aug 29. To wit, especially because he is rumored to be hard at work prepping legislation that will preserve Social Security for the rest of us boomers, placing the funds in Al Gore’s proverbial “locked box” until such time as Mr. Gore needs it.

    • Well, thanks, and yes, of course that’s what I’m doing! I’m doing that, and preparing to congratulate Mrs. Hudson (tomorrow) for having been married to The Most Wondrous Man in the World for lo these past 31 years. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Sister!

      And another thing… for reasons my feverish wee brain can’t fathom, for about the past half a month or so, both your’s and my brother’s emails have been being unceremoniously dumped in the junk, without so much as a by your leave, by gmail (I’ve also been receiving multiple copies of other emails, sometimes as many as four).

      I just last evening discovered an Ecard my brother sent me for my natal fest (in which he unfavorably compared me to dirt, I think it was), a birthday greeting from you and yours in which you offered me a free birthday (no thanks, I’ve got plenty) and something about raccoons in the Bronx. I recall, hazily, a Raccoon Lodge down on Warren Street I think it was, and an older establishment in Bensonhurst, but raccoons in the Bronx are new to me.

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