Saturday, October 04, 2008

"Truckin'" Plays In The Background


It's been a while, folks. You know why? It's damn near impossible to get the image of Jimmy, pinching and rubbing his nipples in the "big-boy" pants while recounting the latest events of his life.


Me and Z went out to the Pinto ( didja know if you are a bit lysdexic 'Pinto' can be 'Pinot'), and Z got our emergency "Jimmy pants" from the trunk and wordlessly handed them over. Once, safely loaded, and I do mean LOADED, in the Funky Green Love Machine, Jimmy began to regal us with his new found royalty.

It began as such, Jimmy rubbing his nipples and grinding his ass on the seat like Axl Rose with hemorroids. "I took the sacremental Candyflip", Jimmy intoned, holding forth a silver packet. Zanna squealed "Candy!" and made a grab.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Thank the Force it was dropped out the window before she got it. Jimmy can't hang on to shit.

Enough of that, here is the story Jimmy told to us:

After he partaked of the Sacrament, Jimmy was awaiting his vision while restlessly tending his BBQ. As he reached for the charcoal, a tiny hand gripped his. Stunned, he looked down to witness a tiny, winged elf who was reaching for the same charcoal. Introductions were made, and this is how Jimmy became King of the Prairie Elves. Turns out the Prairie Elves are a Skunk-Worshipping Cult. Every year, at the heighth of the summer solstice (the real one, not that satanic thing the Wikkans do) the Prairie Elves make a pilgrimage from the plains to Moose Taint, acquiring (read 'stealing') charcoal briquets as they go. They gather, they fast, they build a huge effigy of a skunk out of said charcoal, complete with a stripe made from the undies of the resolute down its back. Then they burn it and dance all night to the flames of the stolen.

And when Jimmy did the naked macarana.....they kinged him.

When he said those words and crawled into the trunk of the Pinto to sleep, it was all good. Then, the trunk flew open, the pants flew off, and Jimmy, much like the god Nike, shot like a bolt of lightning into the woods. Winter is coming, lil' J, winter is coming.

Z and I will be on the hood of the Pinto, drinking 40's every night laughing , after dominating the corndog biz, until further notice.