Written and Edited by Swami Mujaputtia Umbababbaraba, International Man of Poetry. |
A Disclaimer: The Mooj Group (a.k.a. the "The Friends of Mooj") website contains or may contain forward-thinking and/or self-realization advice. The words "may," "will," "anticipate," "believe," "estimate," "expect," "future," "intend," "plan," "could," "should," "potential," or "continue" or the negative or other variations thereof, as well as other statements that relate to matters of the soul, spirit or abstract plane of embodied collective consciousness, that may or may not constitute lifestyle choices that reflect common sense and/or the laws of natural phenomena, are often used to clarify advice given by The Mooj. Such "forward-thinking advice" is usually given by The Mooj free of charge to those asking for it and this advice is not necessarily based on anything holistic, rather than the fact that The Mooj is a self-proclaimed Swami, who was granted unconditional omnipotence by Mother Nature via a 50-kV lightning strike. Minions, non minions and notable others, who elicit such advice should be cognizant of the fact that The Mooj is a wandering fugitive, with limited education and means, and possesses a propensity to affect people's lives in adverse ways. Should The Mooj’s advice prove to be flawed, or should actual reality, results, events and circumstances surrounding your predicament vary significantly from those reflected in your desired outcome, or should you lose lots of money, friends or be banished from your respective families, The Mooj is exempt from liability and, thus, cannot be held accountable. For more information please feel free to contact the Mooj at editor@mooj.com |
First Things First. Greetings Mooj Heads. Those of you who are loyal Mooj Weekly Standard readers will notice something different about this week's newsletter. Is it that it contains more wisdom than usual? No. Is it that it contains Mooj Mail that was written by semi-informed, well-rounded minions? No. Is it that it contains stories that actually have a point? No. Is it that it contains poetry that actually rhymes and makes sense? No. Well, then, what is it? The Mooj has changed the look and feel of The Mooj Weekly Standard. Let The Mooj know what you think. If you like what you see then tell your friends. If you really like what you see then send money. |
The Mooj Mail Bag |
Auto Parts Back when I was working my way through college I worked at a Napa auto parts store in Cincinnati, OH. One day a customer came into the shop and asked for windshield wipers. As is customary in such cases I asked the guy for the make, model, and year of his car. The fellow told me that he had a 1988 Pontiac Gooole. I was puzzled. I had never heard of a Pontiac Gooole before and asked him if he was sure he had a "Gooole." “That’s what it says on the car,” said the guy. “Do you have the car here?” I asked. “Yep, it’s parked outside in the parking lot,” said the guy. “Do you mind if I go outside and look for myself?” I asked. The man agreed and I followed him into the parking lot to see what a Pontiac Gooole looked like. When we reached the car the man pointed to the chrome name plate on the fender and said: “See, P-O-N-T-I-A-C G-O-O-O-L-E!” What it actually said was: “Pontiac 6000 LE.” |
Parade of New Minions
Submitted below for your perusal is a summary of the newest members of the Mooj minion family. Since I have yet to enlist the services of a non-paid intern I was forced to dig through The Mooj Mail Bag myself and search for worthy Mooj minion candidates. Sadly, most requests were from jokers, jackasses, slackers, idiots and drunkards. From those requests I selected four [what I considered] sincere requests and approved them on the spot. If you sent in a request last week and weren't a joker, jackass, slacker, idiot or drunkard, and The Mooj did not accept you as a minion, then The Mooj apologizes for your rejection and asks that you try again (but do a better job of expressing yourself). |
New Minion | Something Special About this Person | Why this Person Wanted to Become a Mooj Minion (In His or Her Own Words) |
Rusty Franklin Jr., #1241 | Rusty is a 21-year-old divinity student from Bucknell University. Randy is currently performing 400 hours of community service as part of a plea bargain agreement with the Union County DA. Rusty says he finds working with the homeless rewarding but hopes that once his court-mandated community service is complete that he never has to see or smell another lazy, no-good for nothing, hobo again. | Imagine for a moment that the whole world and all that spews forth from under its thick fertile crust is radiant in blazing splendor. Then imagine at the same time that this blazing splendor stuff is going on that the ozone and atmosphere above the Earth is filling with love and good vibes. Now stretch your imagination even further and consider that all matter and antimatter, including quarks, neutrinos, fermions, bosons, positrons, neutrons and electrons are exploding with brilliant color, comparable with the sun, but even more brilliant! That’s how I feel inside my head when I read The Mooj Weekly Standard. |
Roberto Eduardo Macadan, #1242 | Roberto is a 24-year-old truck driver from Troy, NY. Roberto claims to be a second cousin of teenage heartthrob Ricky Martin. Unlike his rich and famous cousin, however, Roberto is living La Vida Pobre. | You have a very interesting web site Mr. Mooj. It's one of the best self-realization web sites out there. It has loads of good information on it and no pornography. Keep up the good work! Make me a minion and I will make you proud! |
"Dennis S," #1243 | Dennis calls Charleston, SC home. He also calls it the burial ground of many an unknown hitchhiker stupid enough to climb into his car with him. | I have tried really hard to fit in wherever I go but people scoff at me and treat me like an idiot. You may think that I'm exaggerating but I'm not. I have had more than ten jobs this year and it was pretty much the same at every place that I got fired from. Bottom line: mean people suck. |
John R. Beeman, #1244 | John works at the Dover Downs International Speedway. He once had his picture taken with Parris N. Glendening. Someday John hopes to be admitted to the British House of Lords, where he will be permitted to sit with his hereditary peers. | I read somewhere that purity is achieved by freedom from desire, and desire should be distinguished from necessity since one does not become free of desire by merely making freedom unnecessary. Though it is true that when one is hungry, one should eat, when one is thirsty one should drink and when one is fatigued, one should sleep but how do I know that these are needs and not desires? I am at a loss Great One and I have now been without sleep, food and drink for 15 days as I ponder this and other advanced paradigms of this once mighty green earth. Am I Mooj material? I think so. |
The Kung-Fu Kid By Heddy Franscheska, Mooj minion #894 The other day I spotted something in my dad's garage: it was my old karate trophy. It was rusted in spots and the statue upon the top, a figure doing a karate kick, was bent. I had forgotten all about the trophy and how I came to win it in 1973, when I was only 9 years old. I won that trophy for placing third in the Ed Parker Tenth Annual Karate International Championships of the World. Was I a great fighter? No, in fact I had never made it past the first round in any other tournament before or after that in my life. The Championships were held every year at the Long Beach Arena and I remember how overwhelming it was seeing all the people and action going on inside. I had been to about five or six tournaments prior to that, but nothing quite as exciting as what I saw on that day. I knew most of the other boys fighting in my age group because most were frequent participants in other tournaments throughout Southern California. In my age group it was pretty well determined which kids were the best since the same boys always seemed to win—namely a guy named Chris Parker or one of those darn Walker brothers. Most of us other guys were scared just to hear their names! My first round fight was memorable only in that I won. (I had never won a tournament fight before in my life!) By some miracle I also won my second and third round fights and soon the word spread because Mr. Mitchell, my instructor, and others from my studio, showed up to cheer me on. By the time of my fourth round fight only the cream of the crop remained and I was horrified to see that I was paired to fight Steve Walker, you know—one of those badass Walker brothers. When the fight began Steve kicked me in the face and was immediately disqualified (in the Peewee division no face contact was allowed). I remember lying on the floor crying with Mr. Mitchell standing over me saying: "Don't cry, you won, you won!” My next fight was with another well-known kid. I don't remember his name but he, too, kicked me in the face and was disqualified. I was now in the semi-finals! I don't remember how many fights I fought, nor how many times I was hit in the face, but it was plenty! Every time I was losing the match to a much better fighter, the poor fool would somehow make face contact and be disqualified. I only lost one fight that day and finished in third place behind the other Walker brother and Chris Parker. As was the custom in those days my huge three-foot-tall trophy was placed in the window of my karate studio along with all the other champion's trophies. I was sure one proud little boy and the fact that I never won another tournament fight again never bothered me. I guess you take your victories anyway you can get them. |
Cop Beat As a veteran police officer of thirteen years I have seen and heard just about everything. You might think that what I am about to tell you is a complete prevarication but I swear it is the absolute truth. I went to the home of a local Russian mobster the other day. This Ruskie was kickin' the crap out of his ole' lady. Now this was a big dude, I'm talking 6'-3", 295 lbs. She didn't have too say much because the blood and bruises told most of the story. She was a little broad, 5'-0" a hundred and nothin' soaking wet. So I told this Ruskie dude, "Next time you feel like hitting someone call me." Well the stupid idiot took the bait. I have to say I didn't know if I could take him or not, but he was a typical dumb ass criminal, not to mention Russian (which adds to the stupid factor). This idiot stands up and says, "What you gonna' do, kick me in the balls or something?" So as any opportunist would I did. I kicked him right square in the nuts. I could have sworn one popped out of his mouth. That big tough guy lay on the floor for about 30 minutes, babbling to himself in Russian and wondering what the hell went wrong. I'm no one-punch cop. One punch cops are bulls__t creations of Hollywood. I can say, however, that I am a one-kick cop. |
A
Parting Poem
Unfortunately The Mooj did not receive any poems this week and so I am now forced to either write one myself or dig deep into The Mooj Reject Bin and find a poem that was submitted previously and discarded. Here's a reject I'm sure you will like. It comes from a guy calling himself G.G. the Polish Stallion. I can't remember why I refused to post this poem back when it first came in. (Actually, after reading it a few times, I now remember.) O ŻOŁNIERZU KIELBASA TUŁACZU WARNING: May contain subject matter not suitable for children Hey pretty mama come have a look and see I swing my big kielbasa just like Carl Yastrzemski My pierogis hang with Polish pride and smack around with glee Be my little babka and give a taste of your golabki I’m the G.G. the Polish Stallion and I’m as happy as can be |
A FEW CLOSING
THOUGHTS
I was going to add a Travels with Mooj story this week but now I don't feel like it. Maybe next week (if I actually go somewhere or do something). |