| Straight
from the holler.

by "Buck"
March 11, 2004
My sincerest apologies for my absence
in recent weeks from the report. I cannot begin to explain
how much shit has been piling up on my plate, and as luck would have it
I've been forced to clean my plate before I'm allowed to leave the
table.
Perhaps when I become King, I'll consider adding an 8th day to the week
and call it "Buckday." The only things that
are allowed on "Buckday" are shit that YOU want to do.
Nobody can schedule you to work, nobody can tell you to make an
appointment with a doctor-because the doctors won't be working-yes I
realize this will give them a fifth day off to play golf, but sacrifices
must be made. "Buckday" will never be
considered a national holiday because I don't want to have to drag ass
out to some fucked up parade and then have to listen to some mindless
piss-ant of a politician spend my valuable "Buckday" time
telling me how much he/she gives a shit about me and my future.
Nope, "Buckday" will be MY time. I can hunt, fish,
lie on the couch and eat shit that isn't good for me in various states
of undress without apology. I'll be able to work
on the truck engine if that's what I want to do and drive the truck off
a cliff if that strikes my fancy. It's my day and on that day, I'm
my own boss. Ah, what a concept. It could
happen.
I'm intrigued by our new columnist from Georgia. I spent one
weekend in Athens, GA during that foggy era known as college.
It holds a special meaning in my life since it was one of the first
places I "hooked up." Happened at this shit
bar in the Ramada Inn known as the "Frog Pond." I wonder
if it still exists. Strange place Athens.
It would seem on its surface to be a redneck haven with wall to wall
pickup trucks and backwoods rednecks hoisting the Stars and Bars on
every lamp post. However, it struck me as a quaint
place-almost like a turd in the punchbowl-the people there seemed
refined and dignified. They actually had an air of class about
them. It was quite a white trash culture shock.
Who the hell decided that flavored coffee was a good idea?
Some dipshit at work made a pot of the sissy brew with some kind of
French shit in it that I could neither pronounce nor drink. I
accidentally poured a cup-and after a sip poured it again. down the
shitter. It seemed to carry the flavor I've always imagined
would be contained in a quart of panther piss. Yes, I
sit around wondering what panther piss might taste like.
Since we're on the subject of pussified coffee, looks like West Virginia
is becoming a cultured place, word comes today that we'll be getting our
SECOND Starbucks. They'll be locating one in Huntington.
Until now the only place you could go to get a cup of Starbucks was a
rest stop on the West Virginia Turnpike. Guess they figured the
best chance for gaining business was not from the hillbillies, but from
those from other states just passing through. With us Mountain
Folk, if it ain't Maxwell House it ain't shit. (Double negative
intended)
The West Virginia Turnpike offers another interesting place, it's called
Tamarack. This is for all intents and purposes a
high-classed craft fair. Craft fairs, by their very nature
are a drag. They are second only to flea markets in the list of
irritating places to waste time. West Virginia is infested
with craft fairs during the summer. People bring out loads of
tacky windmills shaped like a duck, tater and onion boxes,
silhouette cutouts of old men and coon dogs all for you to buy and trash
up your yard or home. Tamarack is different.
It's all produced by West Virginia craftsmen-but the difference is the
price. How about a coffee table for $15,000. I shit
you not! Some of this stuff is just as tacky as the
plywood granny bending over in her spotted underwear and it costs enough
to feed a family of five for a year. Who the hell buys this shit?
Certainly nobody on a West Virginia income-maybe it's the rich Canadians
traveling south for the winter. That's why it's out on the
Turnpike. Put it anywhere else and it would instantly fail.
The big story up here in the news has been a guy in Wyoming County, West
Virginia who's making $300,000 a year running the local senior citizens
agency. Hell our governor only makes about $100,000.
He's apparently bamboozled this troop of 90-year old geriatrics who
serve on his board and set his salary. They've given him a gravy
train of epoch proportions. Looks like the end is near,
every politician in the state is raising hell and nobody will rest until
he's denounced and busted down to food stamp levels. Welcome
to West Virginia where the best way to get rich is raid the government.
The NCAA tournament is here and I'm looking forward to several days of
watching basketball in a catatonic state. It's about the only time
of the year I give a shit about basketball-but the tournament is a
colorful spectacle, especially when the underdog wins. Cinderella
is always a neat story. Perhaps I'll have to declare a
couple of back-to-back "Buckdays" next week to watch the
games. One drawback to it all, those dickheads from upstairs
will be running around like a bunch of pansies and professional
prognosticators filling in their brackets. Shit, just watch
the games and quit taking the fun out of it by trying to prop yourself
up like you're some kind of an expert. For God's sake, nobody gave
a shit about college basketball until this week.
Looks like the government is now deciding I can't Supersize my McD's
meal any more. Fuckers. It's actually a good idea... french
fries suck when they're cold. I've been known to wait patiently
while the fresh fries are made. My dream is to eat them right out
of the boiling oil. Trouble is with the super-size fries, they are
so big by the time you get to the last third of the box, and they're
cold and suck. I'm becoming increasingly irritated
however with people busting on me for eating bad. It's
none of their fucking business. If I want to enjoy a pair of
matching double-cheeseburgers in clenched fists, then by shit, I'll do
it. Get over your fucking self and find something else to
while away your time as you waste my tax dollars on a bunch of bullshit.
So a kid in New York sues McDonalds because he's a fatass.
Nobody made him eat there every day. He could have grazed on grass
in Central Park and developed the scours just as easily-does that mean
he could sue the fertilizer company. It's equally absurd.
Holy Shit, I've just discovered I've been ranting like Chris the Angry
White Guy. I didn't mean for that to happen, it just did.
I'm in serious need of a month's worth of "Buckdays."
Thank about it-we could all use one now and then.
Buck Out
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