Friday, May 30, 2008

The Couch Gag

Never let it be said that I don't respond to my critics, even when they don't actually exist except in my own mind. One critic, who goes by the name Bucky Noonish, regularly says, "Look, Voltaire, you claim that these guys are white trash, but everyone knows that white trash have couches on the front lawn. Explain that away, you unenlightenment thinker." I've been putting off answering that criticism, partially because it might unleash other id monsters, but mainly because I've been waiting for the evidence to appear. As it must.

So, last Friday—better known as The Day Double Wide Got His Upper Body Shaved in the Weed Bed (or Bank Holiday in New Zealand)—it was a good old fashioned Mensa gathering with beer. But standing structures are so limiting. But the outdoors is so uncushioned. What would Niels Bohr do, they must have asked themselves. Why, drag a couch from the standing structure to the outdoors. Let the meeting begin!


More members showed up, which meant hauling out a love seat for these lovers of culture and knowledge.


So there you have it, Mr. Noonish (if you even exist). I don't expect to hear from my critics again until the natural gas pipe starts leaking.

6 Comments:

At 5:06 PM, Blogger FlexFantastic said...

I feel.... shame... that I have enjoyed the benefits of outdoor couching on occasion.

Never at my own domicile, of course.

 
At 3:15 PM, Blogger Cletus Hookworm said...

If you were aware that you were engaging in socially retarded behaviour (perhaps even mentally retarded behaviour), I'll grant you a partial pass. An occasional and self-conscious lapse into trailer parkdom is forgivable; making it a way of life justifies scorn.

 
At 7:20 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Cornhole!

What will you do for entertainment when these fucktards eventually leave or die from exposure due to their lack of proper winter attire?

Spiff

 
At 12:15 PM, Blogger Cletus Hookworm said...

Cornhole to you, too, sir!

My emotions would be in turmoil should they ever find a jen-u-wine trailer park and prefab of their own. True, a significant weak link in the neighbourhood would be gone, but the rest of the neighbourhood is pretty bland in comparison, leaving me bored.

But I don't think it's likely that they'll be leaving on their own. The anonymous Bulgarian city from which this blog originates is in the middle of an insane real estate boom, which has led to a lot of rental properties being sold and either turned condo or the owner actually living on the premises. The vacancy rate is miniscule, so people aren't moving voluntarily. I would guess that the only way the Future Jailhouse Gang leaves is if the owner decides to cash in on the boom and sell. I can only imagine how gutted it is on the inside, tho, so selling could be a problem.

 
At 7:29 AM, Blogger Wolter said...

I feel no shame in my outdoor couching. Because I did it in front of houses that resemble Doublewide's.

 
At 11:26 AM, Blogger Cletus Hookworm said...

But you're a Son of the Confederacy—[insert demeaning Southern stereotype of your preference].

 

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