Komedy Korner

As I'm sure you've noticed, The Korner's kreative output this past month has been sparse at best. The economic discontent that plagued us so thoroughly last fall has once again reared its ugly face, to use a figure of speech. On top of that, we are under the constant threat of infection by a pig-born virus that is as savage and despicable as the animal from whence it came. Try being kreative under all that pressure. Anyways, with what little of our funding remains being put towards retrofitting The Kreation Korner HQ as a pandemic shelter (and, while we're at it, a zombie apocalypse shelter), kreation isn't exactly on the radar. With failure to kreate being a breach of our charter, The Korner's future has been looking bleak. But as luck would--and usually does--have it, a fresh, new kontributor has entered our midst with what will hopefully pan out to be a reinvigorating effect. He is a practitioner of humor named Dugg Focks. Our own Davin Krengel was at the Tsar Mart stocking up on Big League Chew and TGIF Mudslide Mix when he overheard Focks wowing the florist and several customers with his piano-wire wit. Requesting to be paid only in pieces of eight, Focks has allowed us to showcase some of his jocularisms. Accept his gift of laughter and don't worry about The Korner--we'll weather this shit storm. Cherish:

A man wanted to play a prank on his coworker, so he called up his coworker's wife and told her not to prepare dinner that evening because he and her husband would be taking a client out to dinner. Chuckling, the man set the receiver back into its cradle. After a hard day at work, the coworker arrived home only to find his wife did not have a meal prepared, so he beat her. [end of joke]

A Muslim, a Christian, and a Jew were all seated in the same row on a flight from Chicago to Boston. The Christian, who sat in the middle, took up both arm rests for nearly the entire flight. When the plane landed, the three men parted ways with barely more than a polite nod. [end of joke]

A man walked into a bar and ordered a gin and tonic. However, because with age his tolerance had waned, he woke the next morning with a hangover. [end of joke]

A woman entered a hardware store to ask for directions to the nearest laundromat. Turns out it was right around the corner. [end of joke]

Fiction Korner

Jason was a public servant--following in the footsteps of his hero Todd Stewart no doubt. I never respected him for it, but, looking back, I probably should have. After all, he introduced me to my first and third wives, saved my life on several occasions, and got me that flask with Bronson Pinchot on it for Armistice Day. If I'd known hindsight was 20/20 back then, I might have considered doing things differently.
Jason wanted me to keep him company at the regional medical center. I wasn't about to deny a dying man what was ostensibly his final wish. Anyways, I had years of being a complete asshole to him to make up for. But as I sat there ladling watery oatmeal on his third degree burns I realized I could do him one better.
"Do you remember when we used to go on the road trips, J?" I asked before taking a generous chomp out of a hospital-issued root beer popsicle.
"I do my friend," Jason replied, coughing up bits of charred internal organ. I forgot he wasn't supposed to talk. But at least he didn't have a brain freeze.
"What do you say, old pal? One more time?"
If Jason could nod he would have. But instead he just clenched his eyes shut and quivered his head a little. I guess this is lava beast victim for "yes."
On the way down to the car, I accidently "put Jason out of his misery." How was I supposed to know the air outside the quarantine ward would tear through his immune system like a bag of hot knives? The warning sign that said so was covered up by my sweatshirt. Now I'm being charged for involuntary manslaughter. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.
--Jawn Steighmeaus

The Komplete Korner Video Katalog

Percy Stankowski: ThLstDnce


Chris Peebles at Monroe


The Korner Kares: Practice Efficiency


Early Chris Peebles


Percy Stankowski: Raise Your Hand


Chris Peebles Kongratulates Korner


Chris Peebles in San Francisco


Chris Peebles at The College of Idaho


Chris Peebles at The College of Idaho, Redux

The Kreation Korner: A History

The Kreation Korner is an open forum for artists, poets, humans and everything in between. We are committed to the betterment of all life through the pursuit of true Kreativity in all its forms. The Korner traces its origins back to the summer of 2007 when Boise kreationists Henry York and Patrick Watson were dissatisfied with the lack of exposure kreation was receiving. In September of that year, they began utilizing the exciting and promising format of internet blogging as a platform for kreative endeavors. Since then, we have showcased this age's finest works of Kreation in the fields of poetry, visual art, video, essay, fiction, and komedy...to name a few. We have acquainted our readers with real titans of Kreationism, including but not limited to Chris Peebles, Maljohn, Peter Doe, Howard Fork, Marilyn, Lee Watt, Nathan Rhombus, Jawn Steighmeaus, Svetlana Mendoza, and Percy Stankowski. The Kreation Korner has seen times of prosperity as well as times of great hardship. But what doesn't change is our perseverance and undying dedication to The Kreation Kause. As our motto says: "Kréation Sans Limites".

Co-Founders Henry York (right) & Patrick Watson (center) with early collaborator Greg Johnston (left).

Poet-litical Korner

A young cowboy named Kim-Jong Il grew restless on the farm
A boy filled with wonderlust who really meant no harm
He changed his clothes and shined his boots
And combed his dark hair down
U.S. to N. Korea cried:

[Chorus]
Don’t launch your missile, son
Please, leave the missile home, kid
Don’t launch your missile now.

He laughed and kissed his mom
And said your buddy boy’s a man
I can shoot as quick and straight as anybody can
But I wouldn't shoot without a cause
I'd gun nobody down
U.S. to N. Korea again:

[Chorus]
Don’t launch your missile, son
Please, leave the missile home, kid
Don’t launch your missile now.

As little boy fell to the floor
The crowd all gathered 'round
And wondered at his final words

[Chorus]
Don’t launch your missile, son
Please, leave the missile home, kid
Don’t launch your missile now.

-Gonzalez Drive

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