Coming soon:
Noodles Monroe... private stoma detective.
You got output, I got answers. But I don't play around with the flange... I'm tough as nails and full of confidence like a blown-out Hollister bag.
My first case, a "whodunit" of aerodynamic proportions. I call it... The Bag Man.
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Scene one, act one
There I was, sittin' in the Brass Knuckle bar knocking back slugs of Wild Turkey. When out of the shadows some bum yells, "Hey Noodles, I got your big noodle right here, pal." Then the lizard lifts up his shirt and starts flashing a very soiled poo poo bag at me. I got up, knocked back my chair, adjusted my eye patch. The bar grew quiet. I took a few steps forward. Suddenly the door flew open and in walked a dame. Smelling of cheap perfume, peroxide hair, fake nails, high heels... ya know: the works. Just like I like 'em, salty. She waltzed over, got close, whispered in my ear, "You Noodles?" "Yeah, babe, what's the score?" "I got troubles, Mr. N." "But first, I need to know, why are ya called Noodles?" I decided to play it rough. I looked deep into her contact-tinted blue eyes. "Ya dizzy dame, who cares about my name. I take care of business. So what do ya want?"
She fluttered her dark lashes, then put her head on my shoulder. I was startin' to enjoy this when suddenly the bum yelled, "Watch it, miss... he's got a stoma."
Stay tuned for act two. Stoma for hire.
Ahahahahahahahaha
Oh guys! I love you so much.....
Had to grab my bag while laughing my belly off hihihi
Noodles Malone
Act Two, Scene Two.
Noodles: "The nerve of that bum. Blabbing about my stoma to the world."
Noodles crosses the bar floor, reaches into his trench coat, pulls out spray adhesive remover, and blasts his antagonist with short, precise spurts.
Bum: "Oh nooooo. I'm sorry, Noodles."
But it's too late. The bum is done. He reels around and flops through the door. Noodles returns to the dame.
Noodles: "C'mon, babe. Let's go to my office."
Dame: "Oh, Noodles, you were so strident and strong. I like strong!"
They get into Noodles' 1963 Caddy.
Noodles: "Lay back and relax, babe. You got Noodles in control."
They drive off and soon arrive at a small nondescript office building. In a dark corner, beady eyes are watching.
Stay tuned for more... Noodles Malone
Noodles Malone.
Act 3, Scene Three.
After parking the Caddy, Noodles rushes to open the passenger door. A shadowy figure silently sneaks up and whacks Noodles on the noggin. Lights out.
As Noodles comes to, a wobbly ceiling fan slowly comes into focus. "Damn broad," he moans, rubbing his head. Slowly he sits up. The office is a mess. Files and drawers dumped out, fridge contents strewn about. Still groggy, he pulls himself up, then plops in a chair. "Wonder what they were after?" Minutes later, clean-up time. Taking a break, he peeks at his stoma. A red little poker named "Payback." Noticing the bulging bag, he heads to the "can" to give Payback some room.
Opening the medicine cabinet... he's shocked. Empty! Bags, flanges, barrier rings, deodorizer lube... gone. "Damn... Damn... Damn," he hisses. "When am I ever gonna learn?"
In a huff, he grabs his fedora, bottle of deodorizer lube hidden under a lamp, and his trench coat.
Time to pay a return visit... to the Brass Knuckle Bar.
Stay tuned for more Noodles antics.
Whilst visiting a Japanese restaurant, this elderly waiter walked up to me and said, "I'm your waiter. My name is Chow Mein." He explained that in the war, he was a kamikaze pilot. Me being me, I had to question him. I asked, "They committed suicide, didn't they?"
He replied, "Yes, they called me Chicken Chow Mein."
These chronicles! 😂🤣😂 Oh, they get me laughing every time! You really have a way. And these laughs are absolutely everything! 😁
Careful, Mark... they use "chopsticks".
Japanese food is my favorite. And lucky for me, many excellent Japanese restaurants are close to my house. Yummy...
Thanks! We all could use a good laugh.
Cheers! Dan
Noodles Malone continues.
Act 4, Scene Four
Had to get supplies, and pronto. I peeked at my stoma, Payback. He was drowning in what looked like a 4th of July water balloon.
Jumped in the caddy and set sail for downtown to rub elbows with the bag man. I called a friend for backup, Vinny the Lump. We would meet at 40th and Main. It was dark, drizzling, and dank when I pulled up. Slowly walked to 40th St. I could see Vinny hiding behind a bus bench across the street. I waited. Nothing and nobody around. Then out of the dark, a figure appeared. I squinted my eyes trying to focus. It was someone with a cane, slowly shuffling along. I pulled my trench coat tighter. The shuffler stopped under my street lamp, our eyes met. It was an old lady! I chuckled and said, "Whatcha lookin' for... a Boy Scout? Beat it, Grandma, I got business with the bag man." She opened her wrinkled eyes wide and said, "Bag man. Well, sonny britches... I'm the bag man." I laughed. "You're just a senile old lady." Suddenly, WHACK! Right on my knee with the cane. Oh goodness did it hurt. She leaned in close. "Don't get smartie with me, Noodler." My knee was throbbing. I glanced across the street and saw the Lump fall over the bus bench... laughing. "My mistake... you must be the bag lady?" WHACK! Holy macaroni! My other knee gets smacked. She grabs my lapel and whispers, "Don't be a wise ass. Next cute comment and POW... right up the middle on yer privates." I instinctively covered the family jewels with both hands. "Whadda ya want?" she snarled. "I need... stuff," I stammered. "Adhesive remover, flange, and a baggie." She hissed, "You got any money?" I fished around in my coat pocket, pulled out a crumpled 100 dollar bill. She snatched old Ben, pulled out a small flashlight, looked it over carefully. She blew out a low whistle and said, "This will do. Let's mosey across the street and meet my connection." She then put her arm out, southern style... and said with a smirk, "C'mon Noobie, help a senior citizen cross the street, ya Boy Scout." We hobbled over to Vinny. She barked, "Lump, get the stuff." I glared at him and said, "Whaaaat the hell! You're working for the bag wome... oops... man?" Old grandma pointed the cane at me and said, "Watch it." Vinny was all sad-faced. "Sorry, sorry Noodles, times is tough, I got mouths to feed, you knows how it is."
He gave me the junk. Then the bag man chuckled and said, "Whatcha gonna cut the flange with... your sharp tongue? Here, doofus; Ostomy scissors... on the house. Only 'cause I likes ya."
I limped back to the caddy. Let the engine warm up a bit. What a crazy night. Double-crossed by a dizzy dame. Insulted by a drunken bum. Office robbed. And worst of all, got my ass kicked by a grandma who self-identifies as a bag man.
As I drove slowly back to Noodles HQ,
A thought was floating around my noggin.
Why did I get out of bed this morning?
Noodles Malone.
Scene 5, Act five.
Arriving at my office, I see my pal Big Boy Bubbles waitin' outside. Now you might be thinking: Noodles.... picking on heavy folks. No, BBB aint big. Fact is he's a pip squeak. 5 foot 2, 110 pounds soakin' wet. He's gotta big voice though... loud baritone. Got the name "bubbles" cause of his bubble gum chewin' habit. Constantly blowing bubbles, poppin' em, drives everybody crazy. I remind myself; One of these days I'm gonna grab that gummy glob and stick it where the sun don't shine.
We get inside and BBB says "hey, look at yer office door." Some rat changed my name and title with a Sharpie marker. Now it read:
Noodles Malone
Privates detective.
No ball too small.
What the hell? Is it pick on Noodles day? OK to "needle" the Noodle? Well, at least I've got a new flange and bag. I pulled em out to show BBB, who was in the middle of blowin' a huge bubble. He leaned for a better look.
Suddenly the lout coughed, and splat! Gum all over my new bag. "Oh, Mr N.... sorry." A huge pink mass with half a bubble, now stuck to my bag velcro. "Here, let me get it off." Before I could react, Bubbles grabbed my pouch and succeeded in smearing the gum even more. I was... unamused. "Git the hell out of my office, you buffoon. I'm gonna strangle you." Bubbles immediately beat a hasty retreat. The closure to my bag...ruined.
Now what was I gonna do? I remembered a post I read on MeetanOstomate.com. Grabbed my cell. Found it. Called an IGGIE clip. It's a folder clip that perfectly pinches a poop bag shut. I rummaged through my desk. Found one. A little large.. but it would have to do.
My cell vibrates. Now what? Its loose lips Bubbles calling. "Remember the bag man from the other night?" "Yeah, how could I forget?" I mumble. "Well, she's nothing more than an old Grandma. She lives across the street from me in a 3rd floor walk up tenement down on 53rd. Sells bags she gets from medicare to supplement her Social Security."
"Bubbles, now my day is complete."
"I gave 10 bucks to that turncoat Vinny the Lump, 100 bucks to a cane beatin' grandma, all for a flange and bag that cost 6 bucks retail. Git off my phone you idiot! You're the 3 stooges rolled into one."
All right, time to hit the "can" and give my stoma, Payback, a break.
Noodles Malone
Act 6: Brass Knuckle Bar, a Dizzy Dame, and Deodorizer Lube.
After putting on the new flange and bag, I decided to get some shut-eye before the drive back to the bar. Drifting off to dreamland, I mused about Grandma "Bag Man."
Brought back memories of my youth and Grammy Malone. I remember it clearly. On her hospital deathbed, family gathered around. She motioned for me to come close. I looked into her rummy eyes. She rasped, "Noodles, I got some life advice for ya." "Don't stir the pot." Her eyes closed as she wheezed her last breath. I looked to Mom and Dad. They shrugged their shoulders. I asked my sis, "Don't stir the pot?" She looked at me blankly. I muttered, "I must be adopted. This can't be my real family." Then noticed Mom and Dad taking off their belts. I quickly exited "stage left."
After a fitful couple of hours, I woke up, showered, shaved, and took a gander at my beat-up legs. "Stupid old bag," I muttered.
Putting on my fedora, I was about to leave. Then remembered, gotta pack some D lube, there might be trouble.
The bar parking lot was half full as I pulled in. Sat at my usual perch. Started with some Wild Turkey. The first shot was raspy and burned all the way down, just as I like it. Looking around, just the usual suspects. I grinned as I thought about having another poke at the drunken bum who dissed me last time. After 4, or was it 5? shots... I was saucy. Turning around to demand another shot, a voice was in my ear. It was the ditzy dame. I nearly fell off the bar stool. I hissed, "You got a lot of nerve showing up here after getting me whacked." She was all coy and apologetic. "Oh Noodles," she purred, "I'm so sorry. Let me make it up to you." "I'll get you all al dente." My ears immediately perked up. I looked into her eyes and noticed one of her contacts was missing. She now had one blue eye and the other black. How funny, I mused, black and blue, like my legs.
I told Elroy the barkeep to put the turkey on my tab. "C'mon babe, we got some cookin' to do."
Walking through the parking lot, the dame was all over me like a... OK... I'm gonna say it... a wet noodle. As we reached the caddy, who is standing there... HER, the Bagman! I was in no mood for pleasantries. "Beat it, I got some private detective work to do." She raised her cane... I pulled out my trusty deodorizer lube, she took a shuffle forward, I pulled up the spout. "One more move and POW, right in the kisser," I barked. Then, not wanting to chance fate... I squeezed the bottle. Instantly covered her in thick lube. She tried to smack me, but the cane slipped out of her hand. Dizzy dame grabbed it. Quickly we jumped in the caddy, fired it up, and roared off.
After we stopped laughing... I pulled over for a warm-up kiss. Now this... is more like it.
Haven't had a good laugh in a while LOL love it!! I needed this laugh today!! So creative and so vivid I can picture it LOL Thank you so much
Noodles Malone continues...
The dame and I smooched a bit. I was feeling warm and fuzzy. "Oh, you big galoot," she purred, "Let's go somewhere more... comfortable."
Soon I'm piloting the Caddy toward my favorite "home away from home" motel fleabag. I look over at the dame... fast asleep.
I tell the night clerk, "Gimme a room. 3rd floor, single bed... plenty of towels. And don't bother me... got a little business to take care of." Got change for a fiver, all quarters, for the vibrating bed.
The room is dingy, small. Just like I like 'em. My two-bit princess breathes heavily into my ear, "I'm going to slip into something... more slippery." My stoma "Payback" gives a little toot of approval.
Lying on the lumpy mattress, I shove a couple of quarters in the slot. The bed starts thumping and buzzing. I kick off my wing tips, toss the fedora, and take a peek at my bag. All good to go. Soon gonna be a whole lotta shaking on. Just like I like it.
Noodles Malone resumes...
Soon the timer grinds to a halt, bed goes silent. I'm waiting... and waiting. Shower is blasting away. I decide to sneak a peek at the goods. Put on my glasses, adjust my eye patch, and slowly open the door. Poke my noggin' inside. Can't see a damn thing. Too much steam... my glasses fog up. "Hey babe... I'm dyin' out here... chop chop for goodness' sake." "Oh honey, for you. I wanna get everything squeaky clean, if you know what I mean." What is she?... Mrs. Clean? "Well hurry up, a certain noodle is gettin' restless. Leave a few bits... dirty."
What is it with showers and dames? Me? A nimble rub over Mr. P with a damp paper towel and we're ready to rumble.
I mope over, sit on the bed. Phone rings. It's my pal Warrior. "Hey Nood, what's cookin'?" "How'd ya know I was here?" "Spied yer caddy out front, figured ya got a friend with ya... lady friend." "Maybe I do... maybe I don't. What do you want, Warrior?" "Just wanna warn ya. Dames are trouble. Psycho OCD, drive ya to drink. Walk away... fast." I could feel a headache coming on. "Warrior... you channeling your inner Dr. Ruth now? Beat it. I got business to attend to." And with that... slammed down the receiver. A moment later, wonderful sound... shower turned off.