"Obama's An Idiot" is where my political bitches now live. Go ye thereto and read.

Monday, November 20, 2006


When I started this blog, I had no clue just how big of naggers some of you people could become! I post a simple little blurb referring to a news article about some dude in prison streaking around so he could get piece of pie. You all assumed I had done some such evil too, since I said I knew people who had done things like that for much less.

So I get this comment:
Just D said...

"You do plan on posting your streaking story, I assume."
Well, evidently this example wasn't sufficient, because I get another comment:
Just D said...

"So... from this little story, you say you weren't one of the streakers HERE, but you don't say that you never did it. Come on, spill."
Fine dammit! I'll tell another story. The good news - and I do mean good news - is I didn't get caught. But I will leave you with some visuals.

But first, let me preface it with a bit of wisdom: Jack Daniels is the devil's own concoction. If you drink it, handcuff yourself to something.

There I was, I dunno about 21 years of age, sipping on the Jack watching the telly alone in my apartment. I was getting a little bored, so I thought I would take a little spin in my truck.
Now normally, I don't drive after tossing back a few. And I never go for a ride without wearing clothes, or should I say, I haven't since that night. What possessed me to go for a ride I have no clue. Well, yes I do. It was the Jack.
So next thing I knew, there I was, driving around town somewhere around midnight, stark bare-assed nekkid save for my boots. (I had to slip them on before leaving the apartment as I didn't want to step on something going from the apartment to my truck. And besides, I like to wear shoes when I drive.)

So after driving around a bit, cruising main street a time or two, I decided maybe I was better off not being out and about all drunk and nekkid. So I high-tailed it for the apartment - obeying every law, signalling every turn, holding my alcohol laced breath, and got my fuzzy ass back inside whereupon I reflected upon my little excursion.

I turned of the lights, and peeked my now extremely paranoid head between the curtains to see if the gestapo had by chance followed home. Upon heaving a huge sigh of relief at the sight of no police cars outside, I put bottle of Jack in the cupboard, put my stupid ass between the sheets and proceeded to imagine all the possibilities had I been pulled over...

There. Is that good enough?
If not, sorry. That's the best I can come up with.


Anonymous said...

I think I just threw up a little...

curmudgeon said...

I probably shouldn't have admitted to it, but oh well.

Anonymous said...

Post the video.


(I know I know, there was no video, but I had to have the last word didn't I?)

curmudgeon said...

Hell no! No one gets to see that video. :)

Scottsdale Girl said...

Jack and the boyfriend are rarely allowed to speak anymore. That stuff makes men hear voices. the baaad kind

Jean said...

oh Dave... oh DAVE!! Bwahahahaaaaaa!!

curmudgeon said...

It's bottled evil. That's all.