Doug Clark: Name-calling, profanity and nudity, all thanks to my readers

We interrupt our coverage of raw sewage being flushed into the SpoColi River to go wading into the fetid stream of consciousness that pours out of the lost souls who worship at the Church of Doug.

Yes, friends; it’s time for another installment of Reeeaaader’s Windbaaag – the irregular forum that allows my faithful to unleash their demons without fear of being verified, identified or Taser-fried by some cowboy cop.

Zodiac killer strikes again

Sagittarius was mysteriously missing from The Spokesman-Review’s June 28 daily horoscope column. “It’s like one-twelfth of the world’s population didn’t know what kind of a day they were supposed to have,” complained George, a caller.

I know it’s a little late, George, but here’s what the June 28 message was supposed to be:

“Your ship has finally come in, Sagittarians. The Washington Lottery numbers for June 29 are 3-6-2. Put the money on Italy to win the World Cup and Roger Federer to win Wimbledon. The American League will take the All-Star Game, too. But you don’t need an astrologer to know that.”

I have no idea what she means

Charlene writes that she came close to blowing her coffee laughing over a recent column where I suggested “Riverfront Park Viagra Clocktower” as a new name for the beloved landmark.

“Then,” she adds, “we noticed a wrinkle in our paper folding in the letter ‘L.’ “

Beer and crack never mix

Amy reports sighting a UFO (Unappetizingly Flagrant Orifice) while stopped at a Spokane intersection.

It happened in front of Amy as a woman in her mid-to-late 40s crossed Second Avenue while lugging a case of Keystone beer. At the middle of the street, the woman’s loose blue shorts began to slip. Despite this, she still clutched her Keystone.

The shorts plummeted to her knees.

“She wasn’t wearing underwear,” says Amy. “It was bad, bad news.”

Most of us would have dropped the beer and made a desperate yank to restore some dignity. This woman was not most people. She carefully set the beer down. Then she scarred Amy for life by bending in a deliberate manner to grab her britches.

“The full moon view,” laments Amy. “Seriously, I can still see it when I close my eyes.”

Doug is a jerk (part one)

Because I’m so expert at annoying people, Wayne thinks I “should write a column teaching others how to do it.”

What a swell idea. I have spent my professional career bringing heartburn to the masses. If I work up an Annoying 101 class proposal, I’ll bet I can con some boob into putting it in the next community college course guide.

Until then, here are a five quick ways to annoy area residents:

“Pronounce Gonzaga “Gon-zah-gah.”

“Order fries at Hudson’s Hamburgers.

“Pronounce Spokane “Spo-Kain.”

“Drive the speed limit on Grand near Manito Park.

“Stop at red lights.

Doug is a jerk (part two)

I’m so good at annoying people that sometimes I can do it when I’m not even trying.

Take the e-mail from G.C., who was inflamed by my reference to “using a little Martha Stewart jailhouse imagination” when dreaming up alternative ways to celebrate the Fourth of July.

“Ms. Stewart was wrongly convicted in a kangaroo-court trial on bogus, trumped-up charges relating her perfectly legal picayune stock sale,” writes G.C. “…You are a journalistic lowlife and a media scum for using this immoral incarceration as fodder for your potshot trash writing.”

G.C. is so off base. Martha Stewart is a prevaricating, greedy felon who deserved everything she got.

But, hey, I’ll go along with the rest of G.C.’s points.

What a son of a Buddha

“Why do you use God’s name in vain?” asks a letter writer who wouldn’t sign a name. “Why don’t you say, ‘Oh, my Satan’? “

A wonderful question.

There is actually a good reason why you will never hear me or any other journalist utter the phrase: “Oh, my Satan.” Out of professional courtesy, we never take the editor’s name in vain.