Jerry Daila Enema's Near-Viagra Experience

Jerry's Dink

By Jerry Daila Enema

At first I was excited.

I actually started to laugh at the grotesque nature of my limp predicament.
But, slowly, ever so slowly, I began to enjoy myself.

At one point, I put on some old Frank Sinatra ballads. But breathing became an issue and I pondered, "Can an ancient bald guy die trying to well, you know?...What an incredibly stupid way to recapture my youth.
How would my family take this act? The papers will never let me live this down.

It all started last Saturday when I was watching the Playboy channel. My wife, the mummified Judy Sphinct, was having her nails done. It was late afternoon and I felt stirrings I hadn't felt since the Mets won in 1969. I decided to run a bath after popping my little blue friend.

Now I must confess that I love bubble baths because they hide my furry beer belly. In fact, I poured every bubble bath lotion imaginable into my hand in order to capture that elusive feeling. I was feeling powerful...I was feeling potent...I was just about to...

"Honey I'm home," my wife Judy said as she opened the bathroom door. Thinking on my ass, I slid into the water and tried to hide under my rubber ducky. That's when I freaked out. The more I moved, the more I slipped into the water. The bubbles covered my signature glasses and I lost all feeling from the waist down. Bathus interruptus!

When I came out of the bathroom and told my family of my near-viagra experience, they took one look at the wet copy of Playboy by the bathtub and they knew what I was trying to do. "We should just hire you a hooker you dirty old coot," said Judy. My son B.J. said nothing. I could read his mind: "What was Dad really doing with his rubber ducky?"

My daughter Messy gave a better summation. "If you ever pull a stunt like that again, Dad, and I won't let you throw any more slumber parties with my friends."

POLICE DETONATE SUSPICIOUS MIDDLE SCHOOL BACKPACK IN SOUTHAMPTON VILLAGE

A suspicious middle school backpack found on the roof of Waldbaum’s in Southampton Village this past week was detonated by local police.

Southampton Village Police arrived at Waldbaum’s after a 911 caller reported seeing teenagers jeering startled shoppers from the roof. Officers did not find anyone on the roof, but they did find a heavy middle school backpack with foul language written all over it.

Ultimately, investigators determined the backpack was not a threat to anyone. But the overpaid Southampton emergency responders, in another blatant attempt to justify their high salaries over-time, decided to break the backpack by blasting it with liquid under pressure. Southampton Village was brought to a virtual stand as hundreds of firefighters, police and emergency medical personnel cheered the early morning explosion.

"I estimate that blowing up the backpack cost taxpayers at least $100,000," said Southampton Village Volunteer Ambulance member Tony LeBraco. "But, heck, we didn't have anything better to do and we all agreed that middle school was a waste of time."

The backpack contained condoms, Obama-Biden buttons, an i-pod nano and a Koran Village Police Captain Thomas Slummings said. "It was obviously owned by a communist sympathizer and we were proud to destroy it," Captain Slummings said.

Highly paid Suffolk County arson investigators were happy to get the overtime pay and advised Captain Slummings that the backpack was likely not an improvised explosive device.

The Duck and the Condom

The Duck and the Condom

Two ducks go on their honeymoon and stay in a hotel. As they are about to make love, the male duck says, ''Oh, we haven't got any condoms. I'll ring down to room service.'' He calls and asks for some condoms.

The woman says, ''OK sir, would you like to put them on your bill?''

''No,'' he says, ''I'll suffocate!''

What Ever Happened To The Homeless In The Hamptons?

Where did they all go? We used to have a very interesting cast of homeless or at the very least "semi-homeless" characters roaming the streets here in the "Beautiful Hamptons..." The first and most memorable Hamptons Hobo I can recall was "Snow." That was what every one in Bridgehampton called him. He was an old Black man who used to walk the streets of the east end, but mainly he hung around in Bridgehampton. His modus operandi was to get a good buzz going by drinking cheap wine like "Maddog 20/20" and as he got drunk he would start hollering at people as they walked by his usual haunts. For the most part he was harmless and all he would do was mumble to himself. The one recollection I have of Snow getting out of hand it must have been about 1977-78. I was riding my bike into town with a friend and Snow was walking on the other side of the street in the opposite direction and for no apparent reason he threw his walking stick at us! You might have thought that his walking stick was a damn boomer-rang the way that thing came flying right at us! He must thrown it at least 100+ feet to where we were on our bikes. If we hadn't ducked his stick would have hit us both!
So the next time you see a homeless person just keep in mind; sometimes no matter how inebriated they may be they may still have a little fight left in'em and to keep your eyes and ears open as they may have a secret talent that only shows itself when the conditions are just right!

The Man Cave

Creating a man cave is an intricate process. I have seen other man caves that my mother would be proud of?... WTF!! A man cave is a place hopefully in a basement and possibly next to an oil tank so you can guard your precious black gold that keeps us all warm at night here in the Northeast.
A plentiful array of manly objects is an absolute must. I enjoy playing with the valve and valve guide from my 2005 Ducati Monster as an example. I had to have a little engine work done and some important parts were replaced so I kept a piece or two!

A sweet sound system is also definitely in order. This becomes a useful tool when you are trying to drown out the incessant squawking of your mate and the every present “honey do” lists that never end. One of the key requirements for a man cave is removal of all traces of estrogen including but not limited to kids toys, baby clothing and frilly objects such as curtains, shams, and useless kitchen appliances. My wife has a professional grade "juicer" that has been used maybe twice and I have been lugging this thing around for the last 13+ years of our marriage!

As winter approaches I will expand on this phenomena know as "The Feminizing of Men" as time permits...

ZULU WITCH DOCTOR TO PROVIDE TREATMENT FOR UNINSURED HAMPTONITES

People on the East End who are enrolled in the Hip Health Plan or GHI medical insurance plan were given the grim news that they will no longer be welcome at Southampton Hospital or Peconic Bay Medical Center in Riverhead, NY.

Officials at both hospitals advised anxious residents to not get sick. Or, if they do fall prey to illness or injury, to contact a local witch doctor to arrange treatment. "Fear not, uninsured Hamptonites," said Bheka Nkosi, a Zulu Sangoma healer wearing the gallbladder of a goat in his hair. "First, I will summon your ancestors by dancing, chanting, and most importantly playing drums. In my trance state, they will reveal to me the appropriate treament."

HIP Health Plan and GHI executives welcomed the shaman and vowed to provide insurance coverage for his channelling, bone throws and dream interpretations. "Mr. Nkosi's rituals need to be a part of the health care reform discussion,” said Karen Quack, President and CEO America's Health Insurance Plans (AHIP), a national association that represents roughly 1,300 member companies that provide health insurance coverage. "Bheka's the future of medical care in this country and a key part of our strategy to work with all stakeholders to close the gap in the quality of health care nationwide.” If you are interested in using Nkosi as your primary care physician, residents are urged to contact HIP at 1-800-HIP-TALK and GHI customers can call 1-800-552-0103 where they will hear a pre-recorded message saying,"Ngiyabonga (thank you)."

TURTLE RANT (We Love Them Too)

Digit, a juvenile Kemp’s ridley sea turtle, recovered from being cold-stunned and was recently released back into the wild at Ponquogue Beach in Hampton Bays, NY. Dozens of people cheered as the endangered and majestic creature headed for the ocean.

Now, let me get this right...the species (us), responsible for killing them by the thousands(endangered Kemp's ridley sea turtles), cheers on ONE LOUSY FREAKIN' TURTLE!!!. I'm surprised they didn't carve Digit open right then and there and make turtle soup for a beach BBQ. Or form a gauntlet and beat it to death with a rolled-up copy of Dan's Papers. Man, Digit was lucky to leave Hampton Bays. (People who live east of the Shinnecock Canal know what I mean.) And who the hell came up with the name "Digit"? Was the turtle a porn star? Did he flip the bird to us as a way of saying "thanks" for wiping their sorry turtle asses off the face of the earth?

Hey, I got a good idea...Why don't we stop making the ocean a toilet for our all our shit and create a world where turtles won't need to be cheered on because they're so many of them? They'd be like beach deer. No remorse when you kill them. Believe me, there's nothing like hearing the squish of a Kemp's ridley sea turtle under your wheels.

The End May Be Near for Wall Street...

Look for concrete survival tips on the East End from us in the future. We'll teach you how to safeguard your family, live off the land and party like it's 1999...Don't let the next Great Depression make you, well, depressed.