August 01, 2005

Pimps, Hookers and Moonshine

Posted by DaveSmith

It's been a weird week. What with the moonshine and the pimp stopping by with one of his hookers...

Last Sunday, I was sitting on the porch with my new roommate Skipper drinking some moonshine that I had sitting around. Guaranteed less than 30 days old! Corn whiskey shouldn't be around sitting, so we were around drinking. "A round, a round" is how that should go. Insert drum roll here.

Charlie, the neighbor stopped by, and Mike R Mike, another friend & neighbor, stopped by. We were talking about how the lesbian next door neighbor is in jail. She got mad at her ex-girlfriend, so she torched her house while the ex was asleep. Just a simple little love spat, that somehow ended her up in the pokey with a million dollar bail. She's a bit of a flight risk. I tried to find google it using "sacramento lesbian arson" but nothing popped up in the news search. 8,270 pages popped up on the web site search.

About then is when Chris the Pimp showed up. Chris doesn't sound like a pimp's name, but I didn't name him. He tried to sell us drugs and then he sat on the steps when we didn't buy. He noticed the moonshine right quick, so we passed him the jar. It's moonshine, so it's in a mason jar. Corn whiskey tastes good, but smells horrible, but it's easy to learn how to drink it without breathing it. Bottles of 'shine have been sent to people who put me up in Australia and New Zealand. Am I missing anyone? Phil the Fuck-wit doesn't count. And if Bob reads this, I haven't sent yours yet. It was shared with the pimp and the hooker. Share it with Romeo although it surely isn't any single malt Scotch.

Chris explained how he was born in 1957 and that his dad was the first black sheriff and how his mom was the first black district attorney. Charlie says, yeah, I'm a lawyer for the district attorney and he pulls out his card. Not good thinking, but he'd had a few sips of the mountain dew. And every district attorney lawyer needs to have a pimp on his side.

Chris says he could bring over a hooker to dance for us. He was getting annoying so we said, yeah, go bring us a hooker. He left. Skipper is pretty tired so he wanders off to go to sleep. Chris the Pimp is gone, and we're glad. Twenty minutes later, Chris shows up with an unexpected crack whore. No one thought he was coming back, and his hooker is everything you think of when you here the phrase "crack whore". Charlie goes in and wakes up Skipper and tells him to come out. We say, "Hey, Skipper wants a blow job", so the crack whore grabs his arm and pulls him towards the alley. It's funny now, and it's even funnier when you've been drinking moonshine.

Skipper is saying he doesn't have any money, and she's saying it won't cost much. He finally escapes and gets back to the porch. She sits next to him and starts smoking his cigarettes. Chris is mad because we've wasted his hooker's time, and the hooker is mad because she wants money. Nothing like having a mad hooker and a mad pimp sitting on your porch drinking your moonshine.

Around 2am Skipper has gone back to sleep, Charlie has gone home to sleep and I walk in to sleep. That leaves Mike R Mike, Chris the Pimp, and the hooker. The hooker left and it was Chris and Mike. Chris starts talking about his time in Vietnam and Mike says, "You said you were born in 1957. You fought when you were 14?" Who would expect a pimp to lie? The pimp said, "I didn't mean Vietnam, I meant I fought in uh... yeah, you got me there".

Mike said he left around 2:30am and Chris the Pimp took what was left of the moonshine.

The next morning, Charlie calls his work to say he'd be in at 11am. He showed up at noon. Skipper went to work, said, "I'm sick" and went home. Mike and I went to work with moonshine still swimming in the blood. Luckily, my fambly is from the Appalachian foothills of Kentucky, so the 'shine was right at home. Poor Mike is Italian, so his blood demanded grappa. But he made it through the day at the warehouse we work at.

All in all, I should've written about Perth. But drinking moonshine on your front porch with a pimp and a hooker is pretty good time.

Answer time:

Yup, Guy. I've gotten fat. I need to do something about that. My first step, is to drive up to Oregon to pick up some of that amazing bacon that's on your blog Meathenge. Although a trip to Oregon for great looking bacon is something I'd do, I'm also buying an Italian designed, German built sports car. As much emphasis on the "sports" as my Ducati 250cc was a "sports" bike. It's an NSU Sports Prinz. It has a 583cc 2-cylinder engine which is smaller than almost any motorcycle that you see these days.


Hopefully Jim, the guy I'm buying it from, knows I was joking when I said I was going to put a Chevy 350 into it and paint it rattle can black with red flames. Oh, and put some blue neon lights under it to go with the fuzzy dice.

Doug sent email that said, "Hmmmm i dont know about you.... i hear eastern european circus music when i look at that. So... clown suit or star trek outfit while driving??"

I hope Rick Lee wasn't offended by my epileptic jokes in the excerpts, although I think he was just bored by me. If you haven't gotten those, they got shit-canned in your spam basket.

Misha! I can't make it to Wisconsin, Chicago and Ohio until after I start taking my anti-seizure medication again. Which means finding a new neurologist. I always figured I'd have an aura before I had another seizure. Epileptics usually smell oranges or turpentine. I didn't. And it was another gran mal. Those are the fun seizures to have because everyone around you freaks out when your lips turn blue and you talk like Linda Blair and they forget to video tape it. Luckily, I didn't piss myself. But not knowing it was coming on means I don't want to drive or ride right now. That'll get fixed soon. I'm hunting down a replacement neurologist now. I don't like having questions answered "because I'm a doctor" when I ask.

I just got an email from Jim with the NSU. He said, "That was pretty much my idea, too, but I didn't get any further than cutting a big hole in the floor pan with a cold chisel."

Seizure later,


My new number: 916/447-4168.

Posted by DaveSmith at August 1, 2005 10:45 PM

What no comments on my theory of your last seizure?? Scotty died and nothing from the peanut gallery???

Okay I WANT some good shine too.....i tried to score some at the Norton rally from some old guy from Alabama, He said sure but was insistant i mail him Oregon Mary-jew-wanna,,, I told him talk to the canadians,. what with all those greenhouses im sure they could hook him up,and im not into getting arrested,

Now,, if your weird friends want to truly live,, then they need to vist Western Meats out in Colton Oregon,,not far from me,,between Estacada and Mollala. Redneck hillbilly country (sadly lacking in corn mash and stills) One shot Willy was my mobile slaughter service,,and opened a meat shop on his farm, Best damn Smoked hams ever, Pepper Bacon, Summer sausage, Pepperoni in Summer sausage casings,,6 pound tube of death, I payed my bkks at our old farm turning Holsteins into sausage. I have pictures..lots of them,.,.

Posted by: doug at August 1, 2005 11:27 PM

You're right. I'm pretty sure something was in the sci-fi geek atmosphere.

The shine we were drinking wasn't good shine. Once I start up on the anti-seizure meds, I'm going back to visit Pop (my grandfather). I'm not kidding about life in the Appalachians. I asked my dad who we're related to and he says, "everybody". I thought it was a joke until I was out there with Pop. He'd explain how we were related to _everyone_ we met out there. So I'll bring some good shine back.

How's Redmond Locker? Have you been there? How about Emmons Meat Market for jerky?

Posted by: Dave at August 1, 2005 11:37 PM

you forgot to mention that the crackwhore stole my zigarettes

Posted by: Skipper at August 2, 2005 09:06 AM

I also forgot to put up the link to my post on craigslist.

Posted by: Dave at August 2, 2005 09:43 AM

Dang, all that and no pictures? Isn't that what the internet is all about?

That's a pretty fricken cool car man. Too bad you don't have your old Dart motor, heh.

Posted by: Dr. Biggles at August 2, 2005 03:03 PM

Dave I'm sorry about the bike. I had a bet with Peter Bonner as to whether I could suck in a gullible yank and guess what? I WON!! Keep away from those cunts on BevelTech, especially the Australian ones. One of them, Hiroki Ockermura, tried to stir the pot by sending individual photos of Pearl Harbour bombings to the BevelHeads. Sure, it was a funny gig, but some folks have long memories. Not as funny as the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings which followed - you guys always gotta go one better.
Cheers, Phyl.

Posted by: Phyl Hitchcock at August 2, 2005 04:57 PM

Dave, i'm glad to know you're at least considering stopping by on your jaunt through the midwest. Maybe by the time you get here i'll have my bathroom put back together (it started out as a caulking project, and somehow turned into a demolition project) and have in my possession -- are you ready for this? -- a video of the Halloween horror show at Durty Nellies!!!! I just heard from an old friend who says he's got it on tape. What a co-inky-dink.

Posted by: mishalunchbox at August 2, 2005 06:31 PM

Another good post. Thanks.

Posted by: at August 2, 2005 09:58 PM

Hopefully your tounge faired better this time around than the last GTC. That was nasty bro.

Posted by: Scott at August 4, 2005 02:13 AM

Wow, did the crack whore have her pimp's name tattooed on her boob in the typical pimp style script? Gotta love tit tattoos! Was she his bottom bitch in his stable? Didn't know there was a track/stroll in the 19th & Capital area!

Posted by: Velvet Jones at August 4, 2005 10:41 PM

I just saw a Documentary of an old japanese guy that thinks he`s god and all his followers live in house our places that add up to "7"..I think he also has 7 followers.He wears an all white limo driver outfit with crazy japanese sayings...He moves his hands like he jerk offs all the time and so does his followers.In Fact his followers eventually made him a porn star.He takes taxis and does not like trains so his followers carry him.He also eats the cremated remains of his wife--carries them everywhere...So when ya headin` back??

Posted by: jay at August 6, 2005 06:08 AM