Straight from the holler.


  by Buck

March 12, 2009

There’s a commercial that constantly runs on our local radio station that makes the claim there are 12 to 20 pounds of fat in your body that you cannot shed through dieting or exercise because they are “caked like spackle or paste to the walls of your colon.”  This commercial is for some kind of miracle pipe cleaning material that will flush this toxic mystery material out of your system and cause you to shed all of those pounds in just a few days.   


Am I the only one who finds this mildly disturbing?  Does my colon look like one of those clay-type bell ended sewer pipes that was installed by the Work Progress Act in the 1920’s?  As they often say in the commercials for true pipe cleaning projects…Will this damage my plumbing?  Also—when this, ahem MATERIAL, is cleansed from my colon, morbid curiosity compels me to ask, what will a build up of fat in a poop shoot slickened by shit dating all the way back to the late 1970’s actually look like when it’s finally deposited in the porcelain receptacle?  Considering the thought of 20-pounds of the stuff, can my household plumbing handle that?  My eco friendly flush toilet can’t even get rid of normal material without a second flush. Perhaps I’ve been WAYYYY too compelled by this commercial, I dunno.


And along those lines—who decided making a smaller toilet would be good for the environment.  Sometimes I think these folks in the Green Movement over-think things.  I conclude it’s because most of them are educated well beyond their intelligence.  I have a tiny toilet to force me to use less water---problem is I have to flush it three times, thereby using way more water than I would have with an Eisenhower era shitter.


A gigantic windstorm that shredded roofs off homes here about a month ago took the top off a tree in the woods behind the house.  Now the thing is precariously close to losing the rest of its shit and crushing my yet to be painted chain link fence.  I can’t have that, since I need to put off painting the fence again this summer—and if it’s crushed by a tree, I’ll actually have to act on something.  I know — I have a complicated system of laziness and procrastination.  Therefore to preserve my undone task, I need to take down the rest of the tree in an orderly fashion.  I pulled out the chainsaw to finish the job.  I’m of the opinion that all days that involve a chainsaw are good days.  However, this was not a good day, you see the second yank on the starter cord and WHACK!—the bitch broke and sucked the entire thing back up into the retracting hole.  The shit was gone with me holding the deteriorating rubber handle.  FUCK. 


I’ve repaired these kinds of things on a lawnmower.  Those are simple tasks that involved cracking open the housing, coaxing the cord backward and reattaching the handle.  True, it’s a makeshift fix and will shorten the amount of cord you’ll have to start the bad boy up—but on a lawnmower it doesn’t seem to matter.  However, with my chainsaw—the cord was too short to pull even one revolution out of the motor. So I dropped it off at Earl’s Chainsaw Repair and Taxidermy Studio to have the entire part replaced.  While there, I told Earl to go ahead and tighten the chain and give it a professional sharpening so I could cut through maple trees like they were human flesh.  Earl promised he’d have it done in two days—that was two weeks ago.  I’m seriously considering driving my car through the front door of the place—I’ll keep you posted.


I have sad news to report.  In many of my previous updates, I’ve referenced stories about the Smoking Hot Widow across the street.  Sadly, I’ve learned she’ll be moving.  I heard this news through the neighborhood gossip, so I don’t know all of the details.  All I know is that yard mowing in a bikini will probably not be a treat for the neighborhood this summer and it certainly makes me a little sad.


On a happier note however, my drunken neighbor on the left has resumed his bizarre and seemingly endless home improvement project.  His carpenter was just laid off from a job at a local power plant—and will be back hammering nails, sawing boards, and swigging beers very soon.  They resumed their efforts this week with our “fake spring weather.”


This has been quite an ambitious project that had humble beginnings.  The neighbor had a second hand building he simply put on cinder blocks beside his driveway to store tools and such.  The plan was to build a foundation and move that building to the rear of the home.  They wound up building an entirely new building, removing the eyesore shed, adding an extension on the driveway—coupled with a carport that covers his hot tub with a second bay to hold the car.  However, things changed since the second bay is not nearly big enough to house a car.  This was due to a mathematics error amid the 22nd  Budweiser of the evening—therefore it’s now a garage for a four-wheeler rather than a full-sized car.  I predict before they finally finish, or run out of money, they will have constructed a grade school, a banana processing factory, and possibly a Russian orthodox temple.  Again, it’s a work in progress and I’ll keep you posted.


Buck Out


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