Hostile or friendly, they can’t rein in my parade

“Doug Clark isn’t fit for a family newspaper.”

It’s rewarding to hear my efforts have reached out and touched someone.

The above message was relayed to me Monday morning by a co-worker who took the hostile telephone call.

But hearing those eight words showed me something. It showed me we were way overdue for our first Reeeaaader’s Windbaaag of 2006.

The Windbaaag is the irregular forum that allows you – the raving reader – to express your wit and weirdness without being identified, verified or crucified like a Super Bowl XL ref.

But getting back to the call. I’m told it was prompted by my Sunday column and parody song about the efforts by state lawmakers to make bestiality a crime.

I know this is a disturbing topic to some.

But I don’t make the news. I just sing the news.

And you can still hear my “Lock the Barn Song” by going online to www.spokesman review.com/dougclark.

And now, unleash the Windbaaag!

I’m thinking she’s Democrat

Everybody wants to be a parody songwriter.

“Your column is my favorite thing in the paper,” wrote Anita, who sent a copy of her “Bush Song.”

Sing along to the tune of “God Bless America.”

God help America,

While Bush is in.

The economy. The environment.

What he’s doing to our land is a sin!

From Dick Cheney.

To John Ashcroft.

Rove, DeLay and Rumsfeld, too.

God help America.

Or we are through.

Adding fans, a shot at a time

What happens when you have nothing to do, a large lime and too much tequila?

That question was posed on a cheery card mailed to me by Arlene, a reader from Sandpoint.

I excitedly opened the card. Oh, what will an overabundance of time and tequila make a person do?

“Read your column,” she wrote.

Or maybe he’s blowing smoke

Spokane’s D.O. was taking a chilly post-midnight cigarette break outside his favorite bar, thanks to the tough Clean Indoor Air Act. The state law forbids smokers from lighting up within 25 feet of a public doorway.

Between puffs, D.O. noticed the back door to a nearby bank had been left wide open. A man of less character would have scuttled inside to make a withdrawal. D.O., however, did the right thing and called the cops.

Well, almost. The smoker said he told the bartender to make the call because “I didn’t want to be caught 23.5 feet from the door.”

Now Jed highlights his hair

Getting back to today’s musical gala, Spokane’s Wayne has found the theme from the old “Beverly Hillbillies” TV show a perfect tune for a parody on Washington’s new gay civil rights law.

Come and listen to a story ‘bout a man

named Jed.

Wore a suit to teach, but wants a dress

instead

Then one day the governor signed a law.

And Jed came to work wearing nothin’ but a

ball.

Gown, that is.

Hot pink – with lace straps.

Can’t whinny all the time

Sally reported a logical flaw in the punch line of my aforementioned bestiality column.

I ended the piece by observing that you couldn’t pour enough Black Velvet down my gullet to interest me in a roll in the hay with National Velvet.

But Velvet, as Sally pointed out, was actually the name of the girl in the famous book and movie, and not the name of the horse.

I will concede Sally’s point. However, since Velvet was something like 14, I adamantly stand by my original statement. I wouldn’t touch National Velvet – or the horse she rode in on.