Monday, September 25, 2006

The Cadillac of Spiritual Offferings

Ok, I was just down at the laundromat, and I met some crazy Indian chick who kept babbling about yoga. She said her name was Shama, which means inner light or spiritual insanity or something....wait, that can't be a name....She must have said Shamu, like the whale. Cause that fucking fish was Spiritual, yo. So spiritual I got thrown out of Sea World for smuggling a deep sea fishing pole and some tackle into his tank. Z and I woulda eaten tons of smoked fish for a whole year! Bastards.

Where was I? Oh, right, Shamu the Indian. That would be East Indian, not an American Injun. Well she was going on and on about how you could "focus your inner light" and "get in touch with your real self" and a bunch of other shit. And you know, while I was hastily folding my underwear trying to get away from this chick, something magical happened.

The words "I must inject Zanna's Information Super-Highway with My One-Way Conduit of Information as soon as she is off the plane" emaneted from my chest in a sepulcher tone. I said thanks to Shamu and her dot and hopped in the Pinto to find Jimmy.

Together, we drove down to Little Pocks shop. For those of you who have not put my mystical experience together yet, let me spell it out for you. Little Pocks is an Injun, from the Slapaho tribe, sells KILLER bud and Zanna gets nasty when she hasn't got any in a while, especially stoned. I think I have said enough.

Pocks didn't think "Little" looked good as part of the name of his store, so he has named it "Small Pocks Blanket Army Surplus" and does a good business. We went in, the er...peace pipe was passed and some Peyote was distributed. A bout of prayer to the Native American Church, of which I am a member, and a generous re-distribution of lunch into the toilet ensued. The initial rush of this perfectly legal to Church Members cactus always leaves me a bit talkative till I settle into the whole "in touch with the world" thing peyote does. Figured I'd make small talk, and since the NFL is back for the season, I reminesced:

"Little Pocks, remember that glorious game many moons ago, when the Cowboys massacred the Redskins, on the Redskins own field?" Quothe I. "Well, I was at that game, and was jumping up and down so much that I had a Wounded Knee. Felt like an arrow in there, as if each stand would be my last" That reminded me of cold which reminded me of Frozen Custard from KFC, so I decided to expound on my love for the Colonels Custard, when Little Pocks threw me out of the store. Why is this always happening to me?

Ah well, Little Pocks always gets over his snits, I got the green and a headfull of cactus dreams and Jimmy to party with tonight, Zanna home in 4 is good in the Taint.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Why I Hate Breast Implants

The next 2 weeks may be a bit slow for new posts, Zanna is out of town.

Z is going to her favorite Uncle's wedding in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, along the banks of beautiful Elephant Butt Lake. Why, you may ask, are you not going, Tranny? The reason: I am banned from being around her second cousin. Apparently, at a barbecue a few years ago, I lit cousin Chelsea's brand new breast implants on fire. I say, hey, if I don't remember no one should hold it against me...but Chelsea doesn't seem to see it that way. And as she is the bride, I am respecting her wishes to stay away. This time.

So I plan on drinking Jim Beam straight from the bottle, throwing hot-dogs at PETA activists and lesbians for the next 2 weeks, listening to Patsy Cline and generally being miserable. Cause you all know that my life is meaningless without Zanna.

Hell, Z and I even tied Freakshow Joe up, put him in a Saltine Cracker box and sent him C.O.D. to White Castle Burgers in Minneapolis together, right before she left. Who else is gonna do that with me?

So, I will post when I am sober enough to type, and if any of ya'll would like to get stupid in Moose Taint County for the next 14 days, I will be slumped in a pile of empties behind the corndog trailer till she gets back.

Damn yous, fake titties, DAMN YOUS!!!!

Friday, September 15, 2006

The Show Must Go on...

And by that I mean get that fucking FREAKSHOW Joe off my goddamned couch. Here is a guy who two weeks later is STILL complaining how he got "violated". I'm thinking at this point he should have considered himself lucky because if it wasn't for date rape, he'd never get laid.

Have you ever SEEN a midget in tighty-whiteys? I don't even know how to spell whiteys. I'm not even going to check. All I know is I am offended by it. I'm sitting there with my laptop, TRYING to help Spanks out by writing stuff for her blog and Joe keeps suggesting "stories". And you want to know what his voice sounds like? Like someone sucked down a entire fucking cannister of helium.

Oh and can I just mention about the "fecal incontinence" Joe has been experiencing since the incident? I don't even know why I put fecal incontinence in quotes. Because it is what it is. So those tighty-whiteys have skidmarks you can see from the outside and it's in my face everytime he has to pass me to get back on the fucking couch. WHICH, I attempted to Scotchguard heavily yesterday when T took Freakshow to his follow up appointment.

Did I mention the fecal incontinence? Did I mention I HAVE A MIDGET ON MY COUCH WHO IS SHITTING HIMSELF?

And let me tell you something about fucking SCOTCHGUARD. No where on the can does it say it say that more is not better. So what do they come home to? Me sitting on the floor Googling "Scotchguard Dangers" in the middle of a smoke filled living room with a fan blowing smoke out the window and me CRANKING Randy Newman's "Short People". Yea, they both looked a little uncomfortable when I saw them through the smoke. And T is all like, ' why do you Google "scotchgaurd dangers" AFTER you set fire to the cushions?" and suggests that perhaps smoking a joint while scotchguarding is a BAD idea. (and when I googled it I found out it supposedly causes liver damage. So when my liver shits the bed I'm not going to know if I should sue the Moose-Taint distillery or 3M. Great).

So I just turned the fucking cushions over. That's why they have two sides . Right? Right. I should have just went to the fucking dollar store and got a tarp and put it on the couch.

T says the only thing that can fix this badass mood of mine is his patented "attitude adjustment". He's calls it an adjustment.....I call it a grudge fuck. Either way it works.

End rant.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Where the Fuck is David Caradine These Days?

The end of summer has historically been a bit crazy in the "Taint", and this year is proving to be no exception. First, Hannoush dies in a fit of mole-induced vaginal asphyxiation/neck breakage, then Freakshow Joe gets a hot-beef injection on TV, and now this: A rogue ninja assaults poor Mr. White's "family".

Over the weekend, a dazed martial artist wearing a ninja mask and the sign of his rank, a paisley belt, was seen stumbling around town. He was drinking Mad Dog and talking to himself. Jimmy reported this ninja kept speaking of "supercheeks and spanking the fish". Jimmy has completed reading the Da Vince Code recently, and is convinced this mysterious man's ramblings may be of the utmost import. Poring over these words with his magic decoder ring has led to no revelations yet.

Then the ninja came in contact with Mr. White's chicken coop. Zanna, who had been tailing the stranger to determine if he was Mexican, told me a radical change came over the man. The fog lifted from his eyes, and the words "Tom Cruise Loves The Cock" were shrieked as he sprung into action. Ancient Japanese fighting techniques and the bottle of Mad Dog were used, the hapless chickens stood not a chance. Minutes later twenty chickens lay dead and the stranger was gone, only a few pecker marks from the largest cocks scarring the hands of the lunatic.

Mr. White, seen here, was devastated by the loss of his "family" and vowed revenge. Never have I met a man who loved chicken more.

Z and I found Mr. White in the street yesterday, overdosed while drowning his sorrows. His wife, Kay "Clucks", and son Ghengis Khlan say he should be alright to continue his vendetta later this week.

Jimmy was seen scampering towards the river with a case of Mad Dog, his decoder ring and a kimono this morning, I have no doubt this mysterious "Cock-Ninja" is still lurking nearby.

Happy Birthday!!!

I'd like to give a big Moose Taint County Birthday shout to reader Lesli B. Ann.

We are having a clam bake in your on her.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Pubic Service Announcement

No, that's NOT a typo in the title.

I just wanted to post this before I surprise T with breakfast in bed.

Click on the picture to read. Feel free to thank me later.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Summer Wrap Up...

<<<----- Let's just call it an "action" shot and leave it at that, okay people? It happened so fast and it's blurry because I panicked and just hit the button on the camera. What happened right before was Freakshow Joe went up behind Stallion at the "Granny Gear" station, pulled down his skivvies and exposed his junk to the crowd. It only helped sales. It's what made him "borrow" a couple of hotdogs and do this.

So T&I haven't had a chance to mention how we made out last weekend on the sales front. It's been a tough week what with all the media in town because of Freakshow Joe's accident. He's out of the coma now and is "resting comfortably" on our couch. Well, as comfortable as a midget can be with T leaving fake "love notes" from the bull where Joe can find them. I like the one that says, 'why haven't you called?" or taking one of the summer sausages out of the gift baskets he got and poking him with it going, 'want some? sure...?" LOL...good times.

And you know what? I don't care if I NEVER see another fucking gift basket for the rest of my life. We've had so many of them come to the house. It's gotten to the point now where I just take them and put them in the closet. Cuz Christmas be just around the corner motherfuckers and there is only so much summer sausage a midget can eat.

Anyway, thanks to Stallion, we've sold out of ALL our corndog thongs AND baby-doll T's. He even sold over 100 of our "My other car is a camel" bumper stickers, I saw them around the park, on wheelchairs and the inside of the port-a-potty doors. Which was an excellent idea. Because in one of those you NEED something to get your mind off the:

1. Stench

2. and if you are a female, something to focus on while doing the patented "hover" stance. This is a move where you must not let your pants touch the ground and not let your ass touch the seat. AND hold your purse while holding your breath.

Okay, you know what? I know what you are thinking..."why does she keep rambling like this?" She never stays on point. How does T put up with her? Well, I don't have an answer. All I can say is imagine what it's like to be in my head, okay?

On the corndog front...we sold out completely. Thanks to our beloved Spanks...who started out strong....and ended even stronger. She implemented something only she could have come up with...the Louis Vuitton Corndog. Yes. She painted a corndog to look like a Louis Vuitton. Buy 3 corndogs, get a chance to win. Sheer fucking brilliance.

YOU, my friend..get to pick whatever gift basket you want out of our closet. I'd say you too, Stallion but after last weekend I think you are going to have enough McFlapps to last you through the winter!!!

We'd like to congratulate lucky customer Jennifer for winning the coveted Louis Vuitton Corndog!!!

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Because I Can

Posting because fair is fair and it's a witty retort to the McFlapp.

Again, this has nothing to do with anything. Posting it because, as the title clearly states.....I can.

If anyone sees T have him come back to "The Power Base" immediately....the boom box needs an adjustment.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Moose Taint Theatre Presents.....The Facts of Joe

As you may already know, in Moose-Taint County we like our midgets short, our corndogs fresh and our video footage direct from the source, rather than waiting for CNN-(M.T. County Special Disclaimer Edition) to put it up on the telly. That is where good ol' Aunt Sylvia came in.

She thought about getting the un-sensationalized video footage of Freakshow Joe's heroic tribute to Steve Irwin for as long as it took her to down a 40 of Old E, and a half pint of Winner's Cup Vodka. Then, she pulled out her teeth and went to visit our local special outreach CNN-(M.T. C. D. E.) cameraman, who was on loan from our slightly larger sister-county, Buffalo Nacho Parish. Septic-Foot Sam, as he is known in these parts ,videos all the special events, and Sylvia wanted answers. I never did learn the whole story of exactly how my saintly Aunt got her claws on this tape, but I do know she wasn't seen without mouthwash for a week, and Sam managed to look simultaneously horrified and happy at the same time.

So, with no further ado, fresh news without spin....May those fuckholes at Fox News take a lesson in objective reporting.

The Field Marshall of the Extravaganza was beside himself after reliving the awful footage. Out of his own pocket, he is flying in the best proctologist money can buy, from San Fransisco no less, to attend to poor Joe when he is finally coma-free.

Though, why a small city like San Fransisco has a world-renowned proctologist is beyond me. Zanna and I are just relieved that with incredible medical expertise such as this, Freakshow is sure to be fine.

Freakshow Joe Still in ICU

It is so heartwarming to see Moose-Taint County come out in droves to support Freakshow with a candle light vigil.

I'm taking a break and getting T some coffee in the hospital cafeteria and took advantage of the wi-fi because we just feel it's important to keep you updated on his status.

He is still in critical condition.

In the meantime, I would like to post another "public service" announcement from Stallion's uncle Guisseppe. Who did NOT enjoy his experience at Hannoush's brother's stand, "All Pork, All the Time and Carpets" this weekend (but who fucking does). Although we are very heavy hearted right is still our duty to provide our updates from "The Taint".

Tragedy in Moose-Taint

It is with heavy hearts that we let everyone know that there was an incident during the Moose-Taint Bi-Lingual Bull Fighting Extravaganza.

Please send good vibes in Freakshow Joe's way.

We will update you on the rest of what happened over the weekend shortly, but just wanted to let you all apprised of current events.

*Group hug*

Monday, September 04, 2006

Freakshow Joe Readies himself for big performance

Here is my dramatic black and white of Freakshow Joe that I took this morning. Kind of gives it that "timeless" look/feel. Even though midgets kind of come with that on their own.

So here he is filling out paperwork that says the park is not liable if he gets hurt during his bullfighting gig that is coming up later which he will dedicate to Steve "Crocodile Hunter" Irwin.

I don't have much to say after that. Crikey, indeed.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Poise and Rationality

Well, Spanks is SHITFACED and on the couch. She's after burning holes with her cigarette into the corndog suit and the bows on her shoes have come undone are COMPLETELY muddy.

I can hear Tranny, Stallion, Jimmy, Freakshow Joe & her husband Craig outside laughing their asses off about something. It must be at Sylvia and Flo because there is music on and Flo can't resist to get her groove on when the music is on. Then again, Tranny is so off the wall and has a unique way of seeing things, it could be him just making fun of the way a cricket is chirping and he'd have everyone laughing. It's why I love him with the red hot intensity of a thousand suns.

Listen to me getting all sweet...

I'm so fucking beat. It's been a long day. I don't post videos on our blog unless they are something we took ourselves but today I feel like posting a regular music video. Why? Becuase I fucking LOVE Panic! at the Disco and because this video pretty much kind of gives off that "Moose-Taint County" vibe. It really does.

If someone asked me if I had to choose a music video to live in for the rest of my life, I'd pick this one. Only because it feels like home.

My Postcard from Helga

Mine came in the mail today. She CLEARLY has a thing for my betrothed. Of course T is telling me that she is Polish, and this is what the Polish DO - they gets things backwards all the time. But my woman's intuition tells me different. She meant what she wrote.

Gotta go, we have to go pick up Freakshow Joe at the train station and then get some hotdogs and snickers and get the show on the road for today.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Postcard To Tranny from Helga

Click on the picture to see the Whore's postcard to MY man.
Murdering Whore.

Ain't She Sweet

Isn't Spanks a vision of loveliness in her Corndog outfit? It took us a while to get a good picture because me and T were DYING laughing.

My sides still hurt from laughing after she said she thought the suit was going to give her a yeast infection.


You know what else makes me laugh...those bows on her shoes. Fucking FETCHING I tell you. FETCHING.

Bringing Sexy Back Corndog Style

One thing (of the many) that you've got to love about Spanks is that she's a giver. And that she'll agree to just about anything when she's wretching between drags of her cigarette.

Being that Labor Day is one of our last best weekends for the corndog stand, it's usually the weekend where T & I go all out and make people feel like the end of the world is coming and you better get your meat on a stick now. Because it's a long time until spring. And for all you know, you could be dead by then.

We have a virtual marketing "corn"-acopia, if you will to boost corndog sales this weekend by what we figure 3x that of last year. And we need to since now we have to find other ways of making money between now and spring. I mean, we've got a couple of good months left of certain fall events and concerts but it's not like summertime. So I called Spanks last night during the VMAs. Which sucked ASS and not in a good fun way. Nothing like Jack Black saying they all sucked and making sure nothing changed. Anyway.........

Spanks agreed to bring sexy back and wear a corndog suit for three days and parade around the park looking all cute and phallic. She'll give improptu tarot card readings in which she will elude to the 'customer' that something in their future doesn't seem quite right and you better get that corndog now because you never know.

Right now, Stallion is busy shining up his Italian Cornuta getting ready for this weekend (I have a suspicion that meant he was rubbing one out at the time because at one point...he just stopped talking, dropped the phone...sighed and then said he had to go take a nap). Stallion will be selling our corndog thongs with our new logo that was done for us by Jane's Eyer. He'll even have a "dressing area" by the big tree near the woods (diagonal from the corndog stand). Because he CARES that you get the proper fit. He's working on making the dressing area handicapped accessible, because he is all about equal opportunity. Follow the melodic sounds of the "Thong Song"

My sexy baby with the super hot yang has been working on the new batter based on E=MC Hammer and has nearly perfected it. He also just got a postcard from Helga (addressed to JUST him, mind you). That I would post if I could get a fucking picture on this shit.

He also got a call that Freakshow Joe was coming back - and he had eluded to some "unfinished" business after the last time he was here. Something about that makes T VERY fucking happy. He's also created something that he wants to drop off at "All Pork All the Time and Carpets." It's a secret though.

I have a good feeling about this weekend. A good feeling that something bad is going to happen. Which means it's time to backup my digital camera and sonyhandicam files and get ready to capture some moments. Although it would help if I could upload pictures to this bitch of a blog and for some reason I can't and it's driving me ape-shit.

Anyway.....have a GREAT weekend everyone....

Love, Tranny & Zanna