John Travolta & a Redneck Walk Into a Bar…….

(The past few days I noticed that my site views were higher than normal so I check out what was being viewed the most.  I was a little surprised to see that my top three blog posts for the week were about John Travolta, Rednecks and pit bulls.)

So, I decided to write a little story that incorporates all three:

Characters:

Pam the Bartender– she’s about 48 years old, with stringy blonde hair and looks like a meth addict.

John Travolta- playing himself of course

Skeeter the Redneck– a very prideful Southern man who obviously hates gays, blacks and anyone who doesn’t believe in God.  He’s about 6’4” tall and built like a lumberjack, a big goatee and mullet hair.

Hitler the Pit-Bull- Skeeter’s dog who will attack, he has a Confederate Flag collar

Fade In– a somewhat seedy bar in Sanford, Fl (where the Trayvon Martin ordeal took place).  Travolta is already sitting at the bar, smiling creepily and ordering Cosmopolitans as Skeeter walks in with his pit bull Hitler. Continue reading

The First Honest Obituary

Recently, my grandfather passed away at the age of 88.  I won’t bore you with the details.  He was a great man, lived a great life and he died.  That’s just life.

As my family prepared his obituary for the local paper, it got me thinking about a couple of things.  Have you ever noticed how obituaries are always positive and always portray the dead person as a freaking saint?

Now, this has nothing to do with my grandfather, he actually was a saint and never hurt a soul.

But, I would like to prepare an obituary for a hypothetical dead person who was a real piece of shit.

Billy Ray Bumpkus 1980-2012, from Anytown, USA

Well, we all knew it was coming.  Satan finally cashed in Billy Ray’s soul ticket and took him to the depths of hell where he belongs.

We all wondered how it would happen.  Hell, the whole family and neighborhood had a death pool going.

Congrats to Billy Ray’s cousin Lula Bell who correctly predicted that he would die by being bitten by his pet Black Mamba named Hitler.  $100 to you Lula Bell, well done.

Early Life:  Billy Ray was a fairly destructive child.  At age 7, while still breastfeeding, he stumbled upon his neighbor’s meth lab and set the entire trailer park on fire when he tried to light a Newport.  After that incident, Billy Ray began drinking heavily and became known as the “Trailer Park Firestarter.” Continue reading

I Would Like To……

I would like to dip Paula Deen in butter, roll her in flour and then drop her into a huge deep-fat fryer.

Then, once cooked, slice her into little bite-sized pieces and feed all the hungry kids in the world.  I’m sure she would taste like a yummy, plump chicken.

I would like to make people understand that praying does absolutely nothing and waving your hands to the sky only makes birds and aliens very nervous.

Thanks a lot religious freaks, I’ve been waiting for years to be captured by aliens and taken away from this planet.

I would like to lock all the Kardashians in a rubber-walled room with three dictionaries and see who figures out how to open it first. Continue reading

Ebonics; A Partly True Story

(I wrote this while I was in college working at the mall in a woman’s clothing store in the mid 90’s. I know, a male working at a woman’s clothing store, very progressive of me at the time.  And by the way, I’m not even remotely racist, so just relax while you read this.  I make fun of all people, regardless of their color.)

While at work the other day, I was reminded of the horrible cultural phenomenon sweeping through the South. A light-skinned African American girl walked gracefully into my store and I noticed she had one of our black, plastic bags curled between her fingers. As I looked closer, I could see that the bag was nearly full. This meant either one of two things; she wanted to return or exchange merchandise.

I approached her, like a good assistant manager should, and asked if I could help her. As she opened her mouth to speak I was nearly blinded by several gold, capped teeth, especially by the left front tooth that was gold with a diamond shaped into the middle.

“Yes, I done bought these jeans a couple week ago and they too tight. Some crazy body must a’ sized these mo fo’s wrong. I fina make a exchangement,” she said with misguided confidence. Continue reading

The Best Dream Ever

It starts with me walking down a poorly lit hallway with several doors on each side, some cracked open and some closed.  I want to look in each door, but something is making me nervous to look.  But I look anyway.

The first door is numbered 666 and I open it.  There is a huge bed in the middle of the room and I see Rush Limbaugh dressed like a catholic school girl and he has black mascara dripping down his bulbous cheeks like he’s been crying.  He looks at me with his God-Fearing eyes and points to the corner.

In the corner there are two Filipino adult midgets tied together with ball-gags in their mouths, smiling and sitting on top of a very worn out Twister board.

Then out of the closet, Justin Beiber runs out dressed in a lederhosen t-back carrying a crystal magic wand.  He flips his hair, points the wand at Rush and says, “Lady-Boy Alive.”  Immediately Rush grows HHH titties and starts giggling like he’s on laughing gas.

He gets down on all fours on the edge of the bed and Justin mounts him and starts riding him like a donkey.  Rush squeals and Justin just keeps flipping his hair.  Then Usher appears with a video camera and starts taping the whole thing and tells me he’s going to put it on You Tube.

I’m starting to feel a little weird about everything so I try to help the Filipino midgets get untied.

They start blowing me kisses, so I run out of the room and slam the door shut.  At the end of the hallway I see my 5th grade teacher standing next to a urinal and she says, “I told you that you wouldn’t amount to anything.”  I wake up and realized I pissed myself, again.

Adventures at WalMart (a true story)

A while ago, I had to exchange a television at WalMart because the one I bought there a few days ago did not have a remote.  This should have been a truly easy task to accomplish; but idiocy, poor breeding and patriotism stood directly in my path.

Act I. The Beginning of the Transaction: I walked in with the television and my receipt and made my way to the customer service counter.

The employee was a young girl probably 19 or so with bad hair, but she was nice.  She took my receipt, stared at the “return/exchange” policy board behind her and told me that I had to exchange it for something that cost the exact same amount or something that costs more.

She explained that she couldn’t give me a refund in any way, shape or form.

“Whatever,” I thought to myself, I just wanted the exact same television, but this time with the remote it’s supposed to come with.

Act II. The Service Poodle:  I found the exact same television and made my way back to customer service to finalize the exchange.  Continue reading

French Class (I will be taking Spanish next year)

First Day of Class

When I was a freshman in high school my French teacher told me that she had heard from someone that I could be smart if only I tried harder. At first I was not too sure how to absorb that statement. Sure it was somewhat of a cruel thing to say to a high school freshman, but maybe she had a good reason for delivering this statement to me in front of my entire class.

She didn’t even bother to tell me this with the professionalism I expected from an overweight, boring French teacher. She delivered the line with a smugness that could only be replicated by true, obnoxious euro-trash. (Stereotyping people of all nationalities was a popular thing for me at that time in my life.)

I would have preferred maybe some informal meeting before or after class, but she decided to exhibit her power and embarrass me in front of the class. I now was left wondering who this mysterious “someone” was who had informed my French teacher of my intellectual potential only two weeks into the semester. Continue reading