| Straight
from the holler.
by "Buck" September 15, 2005 I heard a guy the other day talking about a thyroid problem that was causing him to be immense. He said his doctor prescribed some kind of synthetic thyroid shit and assured in only a week he would start seeing the poundage literally fall off his excessive frame. Fucking A! Turns out, like they say, too good to be true. It cured the thyroid deal, but apparently also caused appetite acceleration. He was eating unconsciously and didn't even realize how much he was packing away until containers started to turn up empty for no apparent reason. He put on 30-pounds in about two months before finally corralling the program and putting a padlock on the fridge. Crazy man.
Jeff Kay mentioned this week in his column a lack of public mailboxes. My friends and I may have been a contributor to those long before Mohammed Atta and Osama Bin Laden were household words. Once in middle school at the sprightly age of 11 we were all hanging at the bus stop and there was a public mail receptacle there. Now, I must admit this sounds like something that would have been conceived from my devious brain—but I have to give credit to another guy who was in 8 th grade. He caught a black snake that had to be more than 3-feet long. As a kick he decided to put it into the mailbox to see what happened. Well, of course, once it's in—only the postman can retrieve it. We tossed it in and sat around, in disappointed fashion until the bus arrived—since a snake in a steel box with no way to look inside is pretty uneventful. Too bad we weren't there for the mail pickup—but it was documented in the local paper that week. The guy apparently arrived to get the mail around 2:30 that afternoon and the snake had been in a dark and extremely hot steel box on a 90-degree September day for about six hours. Needless to say, he was in no mood for games. Apparently the mailman was bitten two or three times, and suffered scraping and bruising as he tumbled across the road screaming like a school girl. We all got a good laugh out of that—except of course the mailman and the snake.
I'm pretty sure some lady hit on me the other day. I've been having a debate between my brain and my ego as to whether that was the case—I mean it's happened so rarely over the course of my 37 years on earth that I really don't recognize it. Short of a chick stripping naked and screaming "Take me NOW Cicero!!!!" I always have doubts. However, in the grocery aisle she made WAY more conversation that was called for in a discussion over ground coffee vs. beans. Her body language and clear violations of my personal space were key indicators that she was either enamored with me—or wanted to place her ample breasts into the in-store grinder. I'm still replaying the situation in my mind and trying to assess whether it was a pass or just my mind wishing it were. She wasn't one that I would consider smoking hot, but she was adequate and with a few drinks would do in a pinch.
Well, I'm all geared up for a total football weekend. My Tennessee Volunteers are taking on the bastard, sons-of-bitches at Florida. They're playing down there so it might be ugly and it's very likely I'll utter words that would be hurtful to a Florida fan. Let me get it started with an apology to those of you who love the Gators—now go fuck yourself. The Mountaineers are also playing at Maryland…I'll take that one in as well and hope WVU can shine. The only problem is we're playing in the suburbs of our nation's capitol and what we consider celebrating here in West Virginia would probably be construed as an act of terrorism in that neighborhood. Guess the Department of Homeland Security may have to be called in if the Mountaineers prevail.
A kid in my neighborhood goes to shop class in high school and told me about a funny incident this week. He says they were working on the door of a busted up Blazer in his auto-body class. Apparently this required the use of a cutting torch. At some point the student who was performing the lesson for the first time accidentally made a slight wrong move and set fire to a paper shield that had been placed over the window. Not realizing this, the smoldering paper set fire to that upholstery on the car's ceiling and eventually set the whole interior of the car on fire. What didn't get charred was apparently ruined by the Halon from the fire extinguishers. Some genius thought they could get a good deal on body work by taking it to Vo-Tech…maybe they didn't read the fine print…..they will now. Is that not excellent?
I watched House this week. Much like WordNerd…it is part of my narrow weekly TV lineup. The guy is a complete prick—but wouldn't you love to be just like him? I mean come on; we all have visions of being the smartest guy in the room and constantly pointing it out to subordinates and superiors alike---AND THEN PROVE IT. Damn, he's living the good life…well, except for that cane, limp, and painkiller addiction…but otherwise that would be a sweet way to go through life….bitter, hateful, and brilliant.
Buck Out |
