We’re Back, I’ll Visit Friends This Weekend


So. I worn out, but I’m home. Home, sweet home. The trip to Florida to visit family was a success– no arrests, no serious injuries and everybody made it back alive.

Making it back alive was a precarious perch for old Cecil, my Gram’s boyfriend of the week. Seems Cecil suffers from low blood pressure, the result I think from spending the entire week heavily dosed with Viagra and Gram’s hallucinogenic potions. Tuesday Gram asked me if I would go to the drug store and get her a case of Ace Bandages.

“Why do you need a case of bandages?” I asked.

“Nonna yer bees wax, Mooner. Jist git um fer me,” was her reply.

“Gram…” I asked. “Have you hurt Cecil?” I hesitate to take family vacations for just this sort of reason. This one time I took everybody down to Brazil to celebrate something or another, and Gram and the P-cubed got arrested and thrown in jail. It cost me the equivalent of $20,000 to pay their fines and another $15,000 to repair their hotel room.

The snotty-nosed hotel manager tells me, he says, “Mr. Johnson…” Wait, OK, and let me stop here and say this. I don’t like the Portuguese language– never have and likely never will. I love Portugal, hate their bastardized Spanish dialect. Speak fucking Spanish for shitsakes, and drop that guttural bullshit.

Anyway, the manager says in this snotty, upturned-nose affected Portuguese-accented English, “Mr. Johnson, this is not a brothel for old women.”

Was for the four nights before the two Texas sex pistols got arrested.

But the Ace Bandages were used as a way to help Cecil maintain maximum performance for Gram. When I told her I’d get the bandages only if I knew their purpose Gram said, “Gonna wrap Cecil up real tight, Mooner. Squeeze him tight an push tha blood down ta his pecker.”

My guess was it the science behind the bandages was was like when most of the air leaks out of a balloon, and you pinch off some of it and then squeeze all the air to the end. You pinch and squeeze and all of a sudden all of the air ends up in a bulb shape at the tip of the balloon.

Which reminds me of something. I don’t especially like Florida. Too hot, too flat, too monotonous and too many hillbillies. I’ve got family there and I worry that the hillbilly stuff might be contagious.

In fact, the only thing I enjoy other than my family when I go down there, is how it helps me feel better about my own state. We’ve got ourselves some serious carriers of the dumb ass gene in Texas, but folks let me assure you that Florida has Texas beat all to hell. Take this one example and you’ll see what I mean.

Tuesday’s evening news had the following feature stories:

  1. The Casey Anthony trial has started jury selection. That’s the woman who chloroformed her daughter to sleep so she could go clubbing, killed the baby, etc.
  2. The woman who shot her two kids on the way to school because they were hard to manage was getting arraigned.
  3. A middle school art teacher, a 64-year old woman, was arrested for punching a girl student.
  4. A professional alligator hunter was bitten and hospitalized. The offending gator was an eight-footer, not really a serious threat to a pro. Oh, yea, and it was all caught on film by a lady from Michigan.
  5. A woman gets convicted of hiring a killer to take out her husband.
  6. A county deputy is arrested for having sex with underage girl.


Those are the ones I remember. Thanks Florida.

Anyway, we made it back. I tired and going to bed, but I’ve got some stories to tell you. Stock up on Carta Blanca beer because you’ll need it. Manana, y’all.

Print Friendly

3 Responses to “We’re Back, I’ll Visit Friends This Weekend”

  1. Squatlo says:

    Welcome back, you lunatic. It’s been dull without your commentary.
    Rick Perry Sucks… and feel free to make fun of Florida. It’s actually the southern peninsula of Michigan and Ohio. We here in the south only visit for the seafood and sunburn. We can get treated poorly by Yankees by heading north, without all the sand.

  2. admin says:

    Squat. When I go down there it helps me to understand what used to be caled “The Ugly American”. A high percentage of our population are tourist assholes even when we vacation in our own country. And an eighty-year-old talking on her cell phone and driving a big Buick with the center line of the two lane road dead-center of her hood… At thirty MPH in a 55 MPH zone, and she suddenly slams on her brakes, signals a right turn…. and then does a left-hand u-turn in front of on-coming traffic…

    And that crazy old gasbag isn’t the worst of it. The way tourists treat food servers makes my blood boil. More later.

  3. admin says:

    Oh yea. FUCK RICK PERRY!

Leave a Reply