Corky and Friends

Never a Dull Moment

Fan Photo from Yemen Lemmon

A special thanks to Mr. Yemen Lemmon for locating this old issue of the Smithsonian. This magazine features the final recorded page of Cotton Adams journal, a rare issue for collectors. Yemen expect your check for $8,745 to arrive soon. That's for emailing me the photo. I am also sending you all of John Owens works as a token of my appreciation for your research.

The Journal of Cotton Adams #19

September 10, 1739

One former member of the Holy Mackerel Club, a very lean and lanky man by the name of Ichabod Spleen, had some unusual ideas for evangelism. One of which was to use ventriloquism to share the Gospel as if it were being communicated from a squirrel in a tree or a swallow resting on a leafy branch. I later found out he was quite insane as he explained to me how he was raised by lemmings.

September 11, 1789

Had counsel with a delightful fellow by the name of Dr. Jekyll this afternoon. He seemed to be a bit jittery at the end of our talk and abruptly excused himself. He made extreme haste in leaving and in doing so left his hat on his chair. Not ten minutes later, a Mr. Hyde barged into my room and demanded a bottle of whiskey and a box of cigars. I explained I neither drank alcohol or smoked tobacco. He grabbed Dr. Jekyll's hat and slammed the door behind him. I noticed he was wearing the clothes of the good doctor and informed the local authorities of possible criminal activity. They found Dr. Jekyll a few hours later behind the feed store, unharmed but clothes torn and dirty.

The Journal of Cotton Adams #7

May 3, 1738
Here I am come to recruit my strength after being confined for a fortnight with gout and fever, more than usually severe. While I was laid up, I drifted into, what I feel was a demonic attack in my weakened condition. I could not tell what was real or what was delusional.
The McDoogals, a kind family of eighteen who found me by the water well, brought me in and cared for me. At night, when all was quiet, except for a barn owl and a distant coyote, demons seemed to parade in front of me as puppets...speaking to me in a frightening fashion and with wee voices that chilled my blood. Outside the trees took on forms almost human and Calico, my faithful horse, seemed to have strings holding up his frame.
Once my fever broke, I discovered I had been chewing on some "loco weed" as I was writing in my journal. The McDoogals fed me a hearty breakfast and we had church there in the homestead. Mrs. McDoogal packed me a lunch in a rather large sack and placed it in my saddlebags. I witness a strange smile on her face as I galloped away.
I arrived in the nearby town of Ha-weeka-tonka-heeky (a native name meaning "laughing cloud rain on picnic") the next day. While visiting with a pastor there, I found to my surprise that the McDoogals were a family of ventriloquists! Immediately I examined my "lunch" sack and found a dummy that looked like Benjamin Franklin! I made a solemn vow never to return and I still have nightmares to this day.
I also am wearing a loco weed patch on my arm to take away the craving.