I need a break. You know... from that thing out there. The whole big fat farty lump of it. The Trump, the Rubio, the Cruz. Even the Clinton and the Bernie. The ALL the news, ALL the time-ness of it. That frenetic sense that life in America has become nothing more than a series of spastic belly flops from one state's primary to the next. I want to go a day without... no! I need to go a day without it. I need a reminder of what it's like when there isn't a presidential campaign going on.
I'd go fishing if I fished. I don't meditate, either, or go to day spas. I tried turning off the television, but it's not enough just to take away a festering irritant. You have to replace it with something. Something strong enough to make you forget that it's all still going on out there... the whole flopping, frantic, farty lump of it, rolling over America like a drunken walrus rolling over a nest of baby penguins.
When I have reason to steer my attentions in other directions, I often turn to those of one or more of my imaginary contributors. Red or Badger Bob. But I'll be damned if I can get any of those guys to show up today. Red, as I understand it, is still marching around a Burns parking lot waving a homemade "Don't Tramp On Me" sign, and Badger took off for Lake Havasu. Yeah, believe it or not, Bob's a snow bird. Takes his camper down there and spends the winter trying to stir up old people about income inequality and organic laxatives.
But... hello?... what have we here? Why, it's MulletBoy. You know... with the "Randem Thinkings" blog? Let's see what's been keeping ol' M-Bee busy.
Whooy-Dawg! Yuo'll never guess what me and Rip are doing. We're growing beards! That's what. Beards!
Rip says it was his idea but he'd never thought of it if we wasn't playing a game I invented on our way back up from Coloraido. I told you about that. R did I? See, this murder dude left his fifthwheel sitting out on this hill down in Colorado after he got arrested for shooting those Plant Parenthood people, and Rip thought it was a shame to let it just sit there. So me and him go tooting over there to bring it back. Trouble is, we forgot to find out where that hill was what the fifthwheel was sitting on. I just figured Ripster knew where we were going and he figured I knew where we were going, and turns out, we wer both wrong. Before we figured it out, we were way the other side of Colroado in New Mexico. That's when Rip pulls his truck over and says "Wha's up, Cuz? Did we drive right by it or what?" And I says "What?" and he says "That hill where the fifffthwheel is sitting." And I says "I thought you knew where it was sitting." and he says "Whoa there, Cuz. It was my job coming up with the idea to go get it. It was your dang job to know wheres we were going."
So we turned around and headed back up through Colraodo, except driving slow this time sos maybe we could spot that fifthwheel sitting on that hill. Whooy Dawg, there is one hella lotta hills in Colradio, let me tell you. And going so slow was's boring as watching golf on the telvision. Rip userlly likes to whip 'er up fast and holler "Yee Haw!" when he's going around curves. But he just sounded stupid hollering "Yee Haw" when we were going 30 miles an hour, curve or not. So I come up with an idea to play slugbug like we used to back when we were highschool dropouts, and Rip liked it. "Yee Haw! Lets play slugbug!" he says. So we did.
Only after two hours of driving, we didn't see one slugbug. Not a one. And cause we were looking out for slugbugs, we forgot to keep looking for a hill with a fifthwheel sitting on it. We were both getting pretty depressed. Rip was saying "I wisht I never been booooorn" over and over, like he does when hes depressed, and I was getting depressed listening to him. So I says "Hows about we play slugsubaru instead?" because there were almost as many Subarus in Colrodao as hills. That perked Rip right up because if there' anything he likes more than burning his own farts with a Bic, it's slugging people on the shoulder.
Sos we played slugsubaru for maybe an hour before I noticed ever dude driving a Subaru was wearing a beard too. I says "Rip, you notice every one of these Subaru dudes is got a beard?" and he says "Hell, Cuzz, nearly everdude got a beard these days. Ain't you noticed?" I says, "Now that I thought about it, oh yeah. They are, ain't they?" So by the time we get back to Idaho, we'd gone and decided we oughtto grow beards too.
So see, it was pretty much my idea to grow beards, even if Rip was th first to say it. "We ought grow beards ourselves, Cuz. Must be fun, since ever one's doing it?" So far, our beards don'e look like much. We has an aunt lives back in Arkansas who has a better looking beard than Rip's, and Honey Bun says mine looks like my pubes crawled up on my face and rooted in. She dont like it even a little bit, especially when we go the humpy-bump, but she says as long as we got the pillow between my face and hers while we're...
OK, I believe I've distracted myself with MulletBoy plenty enough. Before I finish up here and return to the campaign, I should explain that I'm fully aware walruses and penguins live on opposite ends of the Earth. It was a metaphor for a big, farty, fatty, destructive, floppy lump, and not meant to reflect geographic reality.