Like Opening Day, 'cept with knives and retards

Patience, the wise elders preach. Good things come to those who wait. Well, I wouldn’t say this is a good thing, but I’ve been waiting awhile for a good old fashioned Double Wide foray into the inane. The moon must circle the earth, which must circle the sun, and so Double Wide must engage in the bizarre.

So, it’s a fairly nice day today—sunny, warm, a bit windy. Double Wide has a bunch of his regular gang over to sit on the stoop to debate string theory, the precarious state of Russian democracy, and what would have happened if Napoleon had atomic weapons—the usual deep thinking that goes on at the Double Wide Institute for Advanced Weak Link Behaviour. Walking past my front door, my eye caught some unusual activity. Well, unusual for most neighbourhoods …

The Skinny Effeminate Roommate (SER; see earlier posts) and Double Wide, armed with what appears to be a cleaver and a bread knife respectively, are hacking at the ground in the weedbed. Hmm, I thought, this bears further observation. There were a number of possibilities at what they were up to. Killing a snake that was threatening the neighbourhood? Perhaps, but not likely. Killing the mutated hair clippings from Double Wide’s shaving session from last year before they rip a whole in the fabric of space? Even less likely.

“You feeling like a pioneer yet?”

Then the answer emerged from the open door. One of this season’s Double Widettes™ was holding some bedding plants. Ah, they’re breaking up the soil for planting … sort of. If you’re determined to use a kitchen utensil, a spoon, which best approximates the shape of a spade, would seem the best choice. Or a ladle. Or even more sensibly, use your damn hands, retard. Oh well, a few points for—I don’t want to say ingenuity—let’s call it effort. The rapt attention of the audience in the photo below suggests bemusement or stupefaction.

“Should the growing season take this long?”

Speaking of retards, let’s reacquaint ourselves with a recruit to Team Double Wide from last fall, one of the infamous Backwards White Hat gang, last described attempting to assemble a satellite dish on the sidewalk. This guy is part of an additional group of Double Wide pals known as The Little Dick Gang, so named because they all drive big trucks to compensate for their small apparatus (hey, if you don’t use your big truck for, oh, hauling things, the default assumption is that you’re suffering horribly in the third leg department). Anyway, Little Dick has been further compensating by regularly letting out a whoop—think drunk fratboy celebrating a negative STD test or access to free beer—when he gets home or is about to leave. Occasionally, if another Little Dick Gang member is present, he’ll thrust out his hips a few times at nobody in particular. And whoop. Of course. Oh, and apparently he’s ready to be a hit as a troubadour at the next beach blanket party.

SER (left), Double Wide, Little Dick Gang charter member (with six-string).

It’s only May and things are already shaping up well for regular Double Wide entries this summer. I feel like Jed Clampett, taking a shot at a critter and hitting an oil deposit.

Y’all come back now, hear?