Hey folks! This is Eugene and Earl here, checking back in. Well, the last few weeks have been mighty bumpy, like going off road in a dooshbag volkswagon instead of yer tractor. You may have noticed that we’ve been MIA and here’s why: We been sucked up into a big black pencil pusher hole, kinda like having yer pecker lost up in a bat cave pussy!
Here’s what started it all…One day, big brother called Eugene into one of them BORED rooms. And then dun told him he better stop writing about pussy on Big Brothers watch and that they’d be watching even closer now! Well that just sent us on a downward spiral real bad like. Well the only joy we had during the day was talkin’ to you folks about tits and pussy! Now since we couldn’t write at work, we were stuck doing pencil pushin’ all day, err day. We dun landed in a black hole of depression and despair. Earl went up in the tree almost err night with his whiskey and tried to drink his misery away. Why, it wasn’t even fun anymore. Eugene would just crack a big bottle of moonshine over his head errday he got home to knock himself out. That went on for a while, and then it turned from bad to worse. Yes sir, we hit rock bottom. One morning, Earl woke up and was sitting in bed trying to will himself to get up, when he felt a mighty big fart coming on. This made him happy because Earl likes to let a good one rip every now and then. So, he was petting his critter and he just let it fly. Well then he felt something warm and wet in his pants. Something did not go right. He dun sh!t his pants!! Well then Earl panicked and screamed for his wifey, yelling “Woman, Woman! I dun shit myself!! This job is takin’ everything away from me! I can’t even control my own bodily functions anymore!! This damn job has dun turned me into a baby old man farm animal. Why I should be sleeping in the barn with a diaper on!”. Meanwhile, Eugene would come home from the pencil hut, grumbling and huffing and puffin’, and barking at his wifey and buzzards. Soon as he sit on his keister, he would fall into a deep disturbed nightmarish slumber. He was dreamin’ ‘bout his pencil pusher bossman waving his donkey in his face, and that his own donkey dun turned into a mangina! Why, pencil pushin’ made him a nasty narcoleptic! This is from severe boredom and lack of good old sunlight folks! Since he was sleeping all the time his donkey forgot how to work and he wasn’t letting Lucinda ride it no more. If this keep up, she’ll be out in the field ridin’ the bull and god knows whut else instead of Eugene! Well darn, the redneck rebel deep down in our bones ain’t gonna let no pale pencil pusher keep us from writing about titties, sex, or vagina. No way, no how! So, this here is for Big Brother who’s probably watching right now…. We likes us some good ol’ fuckin, pussies, titties, dick suckin’ blow jobs, rim jobs, salad tossin’, tea baggin’, and strap on lesbian sexin’!! That’s right.
nightman1 said,
June 9, 2009 @ 6:57 pm
Hard to believe this has no comments, since it has the great characteristic of some to the best funny writing: It’s funny and sad and true at the same time.
Let’s face it, when you once got yourself a wife and some younguns, the Bossman’s got you by your dick ’til your so old there ain’t much there to hold onto no more.
Surprisingly (changing to MY PONTIFICATING VOICE) it’s not much different when you’re single, even if your old enough that they’ve used you just about up and are ready to let you escape to retirement. In this situation, instead of kids it’s, the “good lifestyle” you hope to have in retirement that keeps you enduring the stultifyng boredom.
You ought to read a book called “Cracker Culture, Celtic Ways in the Old South” by Grady McWhinney. One of the interesting things he tells us there is that through much of the life of the Old South there was a class of small, non-slave-holding farmers who were just about as independent and “indolent” as they could be. Their small land holdings kept them in necessities, and they lived fairly primitive lives without many luxuries that they needed to make money to buy.
Mr. McWhinney (that fine scholar) also tells us that, due to their primarily celtic origin, white Southernerns of all classes were very chary of their honor.
All us rednecks have these things in our backgrounds. It’s no wonder that, now that we have to work under conditions essentially of imprisonment, we are mad or sad all the time.
bruthersgizzer said,
June 22, 2009 @ 10:58 am
Can I get am AMEN ??
nightman1 said,
June 9, 2009 @ 7:22 pm
PS: I went on to look at other entries in your blog, and the little fragment of Lucinda I could see in the one picture of her on here made me think she might be worth the agony of being a pencil pusher.
bruthersgizzer said,
June 22, 2009 @ 10:58 am
Well boy you righter then the direction mah donkey point at night! HARHAR