New Year's Kickin' Eve

A bit late on this, but hopefully it's aged like fine wine, rather than moldy bread.

Around 12.30 am on New Year's Eve (or New Year's Day, if you want to get technical), I'm at the back of our house, and I can hear banging outside. So I go to the front window and see someone at the Doublewidistan embassy kicking the fuck out of the front door and yelling. I don't want it to go unnoticed that the sound carried the forty-some yards between the houses, through our windows, and another fifteen or so yards within our house, and loud enough that we both noticed and went to check it out.

Okay, so someone's kicking the front door. Not sure if it's a resident or a friend. I don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but I think there's only one set of keys for the Wheelless Trailer because, coming and going, the residents leave and grab keys from the mailbox. But the house was completely dark and no cars were around, so I would guess that they were out for the night. I deduced it pretty quickly. The Door Kicker, however, kicked and yelled for (no exaggeration) five minutes (I checked the clock) before giving up and going around to the back. No idea what happened after that—did he get in? did he go away? did he die in the snow?—because I went to bed. 

Is An Error Ending?

It's been a quiet summer here in Outer Doublewidistan. Lord Double Wide hasn't been seen much the last couple months. He shows up once a week for a short stretch then takes off again. Halfway house for the criminally stupid? 

Little Dick vanished around early August and hasn't been seen at all. Until today. Pulling a long flat bed trailer, Little Dick showed up, and he and DW are currently loading furniture onto it. (Will they be smart enough to bungee it all on? Hmmm.) So it would seem that Little Dick will be woot-wooting elsewhere permanent-like. Does this mean DW is also moving on to a genuine trailer park, after experiencing the relative luxury of indoor plumbing and glass windows? Unknown.

I feel … not sad. Not regretful either. It's like having a hideous growth on your face—a massive mole with hair growing out of it that attracts gnats and beetles looking to lay eggs. You've always hated it because of the taunting from children, the elderly, and maliciously trained parrots, but it's a part of you. But then, when completing your gender reassignment surgery, you figure, what the hell, take off the big mole, too. And then you look into the mirror and it's no longer there. You're not unhappy, but it's unfamiliar, too. Yeah, I think that analogy works perfectly.

If Count Double Wide is going, I'll be sure to let everyone know. Make a final post and all, turn out the lights, and try to get my security deposit back. Excuse me, it's dusty in here …

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.

Summer is the Time for Sequels

Remember one of the first entries of this diary of the damned, where Double Wide shaved his head in the weed bed? No? Okay, go here and check it out then come back.

He's at it again, tho like all bad sequels, he's got some wacky sidekicks this time around.

So, what do we have here? Well, of course, our hero, getting his back (later arms and chest) shaved. There is a Double Widette performing the act (I'd like to think she murdered several competitors for the honour). There's Senor Wasting Disease, the Skinny Effeminate Roommate, looking on, possibly in awe. And Little Dick, catchin' some rays in the front yard and, in general, being the coolest fuck in his mind.

My reason for posting this isn't really about Double Wide shaving his upper body. Lots of guys do it (not me, but whatever). Its inclusion in this Encyclopedia Trailer Trashica is because it is, once again, a voluntary public activity. And, better yet, again in that poor weed bed under the window—what is its appeal as the site for depilatory activities? And it merits an audience from the Double Wide Action Team. Who does this? Really, who shaves their body hair on the front lawn? In front of audience?

Added curiosity: he's finished the shaving … and now he's disappeared into the house. You know, you can't head in until the shaving is completed, just like you wouldn't shave your back and chest and arms in the house. I'm at a loss trying to figure out this, the pinnacle of human evolution and cultural development.

Cornhole!

I'm working in my office, which faces Doublewidinavia. Little Dick is home, the front door is (duh) wide open. Double Wide pulls up on his bike and yells out, "Cornhole!" I'm sure the real story behind what that means isn't as entertaining as what most people's imagination can conjure up. Nevertheless, conjure away, faithful reader.

An additional observation about Double Wide and his biking habits. When he goes for a ride, he hauls his bike out of the house and dumps it on the lawn. And there it stays for anywhere from fifteen minutes to a half hour or more. Instead, he's in the house, out of the house, in and out of the house before actually getting on the bike. The delay is, well, not intriguing but a minor curiosity. What explains the delay? Does he forget what he was going to do? Does he get distracted by floating spots in the corner of his eye? Does he have to psych himself up or engage in some other ritual? What explains such a delay between getting ready to ride a bike and actually riding the bike?

White Trash Homoeroticism in Contemporary Society

I feel bad. Literally a half dozen of you rely on my news and analysis regarding the sovereign nation of Doublewidistan, yet I have provided no news or analysis. I could blame the Doublewidistani people themselves, but I don't blame monkeys for eating bugs out of each others fur or hurling their poo, so there is a principle to uphold. So, to repeat, I feel bad.

To add some meat to these bones, I'll crib from my partial update in the comments of the previous post.

(1) DW regularly leaves the lights on on his car, leading to calls for boosts or cab rides. An additional observation from the past couple weeks: the driver's side inside door handle doesn't work. I assume this given that he always rolls down the window and opens the door using the outside handle.

(2) In sub-freezing weather this winter, the household pushed a friend's vehicle that was slipping on the ice and couldn't make it up the hill. This is only noteworthy because Little Dick emerged from the house without a shirt to do the job. No time to put on a shirt—there's pushings needing doings! Not only that, it's January and he's hanging around the house without a shirt.

This actually raises a topic that I find curious. Aside from the Skinny Effeminate Roommate, who looks like he's suffering from wasting disease, the guys in that house seem to revel in each other's near-nakedness. Now, I'm not homophobic in the least, but it strikes me as more than a little homoerotic for guys to hang out wearing as little as possible. And, given that this goes on even in the winter, they can't blame the temperature. What do they think about as they stand around, just in their underwear? Are they trying to impress each other? Is this some kind of primate dominance ritual? Seriously, why do a bunch of young guys living together strip down in each other's company? I really want to know this.

Two guys. One front yard. Clothing very optional. Admiration of participants mutual. (Note: the temperature that day was under 10 degrees Celsius.)

(3) DWD is no longer a resident. After a visit from Animal Control, DWD disappeared. AC called me maybe two months later to inquire how things were, and I said it was quiet since they took the dog. They said that they didn't. When I told them DWD was gone, they were bothered because he can't move the dog without court approval. So he was supposed to get yet another visit. No idea what happened re. all that. However, DW has adopted a second cat. Or it's taken the constant open door as an invitation to move in. The smelly old pillow has survived the winter, yet again. Winter after winter, rain storm after rain storm, it stays on the front step, ready for Doublewide to plop his exposed ass crack on it, maybe consume a meal, maybe just sit and stare into the void.

(4) The unanswered question remains whether DW has finally graduated from university. I think this was either year five or six, so it stands to reason that he's got to be getting close (stopped clocks and all). I don't imagine we'll know until late August rolls around and whether he starts heading out with a book bag over his shoulder.

Doublewide and Little Dick, who is amping up the cool factor by wearing a green faux straw hat. He might also be ready to start going, "woot woot."

The End of An Error

Friends, I regret to tell you that the Double Wide Chicken Coop and Dog Enclosure 9000™ is gone. Like Hitler's claim of a thousand-year reich, its longevity was overstated. In the last couple days, an older guy (were I to guess, the landlord) and a few younger ones have been cleaning up the front yard and doing some repairs—and took down the Coop. Likewise, Double Wide and his Hoochie Mama haven't been around for the last four (nor has Little Dick and his Shiny Scratchfree Truck). Does this mean that DW is on his way out, or is already out? We didn't see any stuff being hauled out, so that would suggest no. But given the timing of everything—end of the month, just before classes start—it's suggestive. I hope DW comes back for Kitty!, tho, who's just been hanging around these past few days. Similarly, the DW/DWD pillow is just lying on the front steps, waiting for someone to tan on …