MOE Takes 5

Since I usually try and unwind a bit on the weekends, (Being a giver practically 24 hours a day during the week can really wear a guy out.) So for the most part my weekend starts on Wednesday morning with a copy of "Who wants To Butter This Muffin" magazine and a box of Kleenex. Once I have enjoyed a little relaxing reading, I usually mix myself a Beertini (A Beertini is made with the remnants of all of the left over beers from the day before, mixed with a shot of Puerto Rican Scotch and just a splash of box wine, all shaken over ice. You can also pour it over a package of frozen vegetables if you are out of ice) this usually gets the weekend started off just right. My next cognitive thought generally takes place around Saturday. Now understand that I like to have a little "Me" time on my weekends, and fulfilling the desires of the many women that throw themselves at me is not at the top of my list. But as I said before it is hard to ignore ones calling and be selfish when someone is clearly in need.

      So on this particular Saturday morning when I was trying to enjoy my breakfast of a 12 pak of Natural Light and a can of sardines a woman walked over to me. For the record I was minding my own business, and the Playground is in a public park. Anyway, this woman proceeds to pretend to be pissed off that I am sitting next to her daughter on the swings with 6 empties at my feet belching the sweet smell of Kingfisher Sardines (in a Port Wine Mustard Sauce.) Me, being an "insider" however, could tell that she was totally hot for me and was just saying she was going to call the cops as a ploy for attention. So I casually followed her home.

One issue that I have inferred to many times is the constant battle to overcome inferior minds. Now even though I understand and speak the unspoken language of love and attraction, it does not always mean that the other party is able to recognize the fire in their loins and attribute it to the appropriate person. So when the woman from the park saw me peeking through the window, instead of being thrilled to see that I had taken time from my busy schedule to stop by and satisfy her wanton desire for me, she screamed and went for the phone…Then out of nowhere springs a rather burly unshaven man in nothing but a wife beater and a towel. It is really annoying when women walk around casually excreting their pheromones when they already have a man at home. Anyway, since I try and make it a point not to mow another mans lawn; I decided it might be best if I left this scene.

            The whole thing was rather troubling for me, here I was trying to be unselfish and give to the needy and I was being made out to be the bad guy…Again. It is a good thing I have one of the more superior resolves on the planet, as I would decide once more, to chalk this event up to the unbalance of intelligence in our society and use it as an example for those who follow me on my path. Yes, I am already crafting Sunday's sermon in my mind….Something along the lines of how to ignore the sexual advances of the She Devil and being led into a trap of lies and deception. I mean after all, if a woman cant be honest with herself, how can we expect them to be honest with us??

5:48 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Moe will chage your life ch. 19
Current mood: happier than a toilet seat in the Ladies room
Category: happier than a toilet seat in the Ladies room Religion and Philosophy

Moe's Sabbatical Sadly Ends

My sabbatical to the far reaches of northern Mexico, (prompted by a visit from the IRS and the FBI investigating the Mission unfoundedly for fraud and tax evasion), has led me to a new level of enlightenment.  As many of you may be aware I have been absent for a few months and thus the Mission doors have been closed to the public, unless you were one of the people paying Steveny the shemale groundskeeper $20 for a Hojo followed by a complimentary photo op with the kids.  Since 30% goes to the Mission I felt this would be a business venture where everybody wins…. As I am sure my readers will agree. ….Anyway on to the core of what I learned.

First of all I was surprised to see how many Hispanics there were in Mexico, It is getting worse than L.A, not really a bad thing, it just makes it tough to communicate because they aren't too strong in English. I overcame however as I quickly picked up the language and was soon speaking it better than they could. I am sure this is because the schools in south Tijuana can't afford to buy copies of "How to speak Spanish in 2 hours Puto!"  I was not so unfortunate of course, and thus was thoughtful enough to donate my copy to Tequila Juans  Cervecaria and Donkey show, a community gathering place where many of the more influential people hung out.

Once the language barrier was kicked in I moved on to greater things. It took only a few short days to realize that the majority of the prostitutes were working without proper management and had no one to help them wash at the end of the day. So with some crafty finagling I was able to lease a little corrugated metal shack with running water for 7 million pesos. Which as you all know is a screaming deal.  After a few renovations I was able to open Moe's South of the Border Companion Agency and Ho Wash.  Not only was I servicing the community but It also gave me a rather nice platform share my wisdom and enlightenment with our Mexican brethren.  You would be surprised how many people will stop and listen when you shout ,  " parar y escuchar o cortaré tus huevos" which means "Hello how would you like to hear a little bit about how you can be a better person like me?"  I would tell them of the many adventures of the Mensa Club and what we had learned and they would just look blankly at me and shake their heads in agreement. This obviously meant I was giving them pearls and they had no words of gratitude they could express knowing my Mexican was better than theirs. So they would merely tip their hat and say "Maricon" which I believe is a way to say God Bless you, only they are really hung up on the Virgin Mary down there so you get Maricon instead, meaning Mary Bless you…. 

Enough wordsmithing and etymology, I feel like I am showing off a bit which is not intended to be my point. My point is no matter where you go, you can do good for a community. I have many more stories to tell, but I am almost finished with my morning constitutional and I usually get blocked when I leave the throne. So I must bid you adoo for now and head over to Willies and pay off my bar tab so I can get reinstated into the Mensa Club which I started. Willie was made acting director during my absence and convinced the others to suspend me until my bill was caught up. I will have some words with the ingrates later but for now I am too excited to share my many stories of how different cultures are in other countries and how much you can learn while soaping the back of a Border Town Whore.

12:42 PM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

MOE will change your life..
Category: Automotive

A Snippet from the life of an Altruist..…by Moe

Many people look down a man who occasionally rummages through the dumpster behind the TKE fraternity house searching for such treasures as 7- 10 unfinished Keystone Lights and the ultimate find of an only half eaten plate of chili and cheese nachos. I am not one of them however. See I know how it feels to be frugal. Many people make the assumption that the man in the dumpster is desperate and in need. I know better though, he is merely resourceful and helping Al Gore stomp out global warming by doing his part for the planet. Knowing this makes me swell up with pride as I walk right up to the edge of the dumpster and give him the rest of my dollar menu double cheeseburger and the last swallow of my Diet Coke and Watermelon Boones Farm from yesterday's lunch. See I will not turn away from a fellow "Thrifty Planet Saver" and am more than willing to contribute some of my own "Riches" to the cause. But that is why I am Moe, and the rest of you are still wearing diapers and training wheels when it comes to true understanding and enlightenment.

 After my daily act of random selflessness I headed for my standard lunch spot behind the Kappa Alpha Theta sorority house, or KAT house as known by the locals…really a nice lunch spot, mostly due to the shade provided by the large oak tree about 10 feet up on a large branch just outside the bathroom window. That coupled with a light breeze off the river made it a very peaceful and reflective spot to wash down my veritable smorgasbord of Vienna Sausages and Red Hot Pork Rinds with some Grape Mad Dog while thinking about life and casually observing to be sure none of the poor gals slipped getting out of the shower…I don't recommend trying to achieve this level of peace on a standard 30-40 minute lunch break. It takes several hours to make sure all of the girls are finished showering and the vigorous arm movements sometimes make it difficult to balance on the branch, thus adding an element of danger to the otherwise peaceful benevolence of the event.

As it is written in Book 2 of "Moe's Guide to Inter-Planetary Giving and Enlightenment" … "2 acts of  altruism before lunch should be rewarded by the giver taking some time to reflect on his or her compassion and fuel the mind and spirit, thus enabling the kindness and understanding toward the lesser mans plight to continue."  I spelled it out very simply here as it was written for all people to comprehend totally and equally, even women and southern white males. But, I will explain it to you anyway. It means go to the bar and treat the giver to a little R&R so that he/she will rise the next day at 11 and begin the process anew. So that is exactly where I headed after I had banked $11.97 for the sack of aluminum cans and various other "One mans treasure " artifacts I had sold from the shopping cart "Dumpster Dan" had left unattended as he vomited stale beer and cigarette butts into the alley behind the Frat house.

I didn't even include the life lesson I had so selflessly imparted on Dan as part of the days charity. It was a freebie, as a true giver doesn't include such commonsensical things like "If you snooze you lose" when they are encompassing their true body of work.

Currently listening : Where the Humans Eat By Willy Mason Release date: 07 March, 2006

12:02 AM - 5 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

THE BIG DICK GUY
Current mood: amused
Category: Automotive

Why Size Matters....

Ahhhh.. the age old question... "Does size matter?

I am not going to beat around the bush on this one...(full pun intended).

I know I am going to hurt a few of you with this answer, but size definitely matters.

Now many of you may think that having a huge Womb Stretcher would immediately make you a better lover. But that is not the case. The novelty of a plus sized Pocket Gangsta...wears off after a few sessions if you don't have any other game. I know I know all of you Mini Me's out there are echoing "See...It's not the size of the sea it's the motion of the ocean..." (couple this with a nerdy laugh and a split finger tongue flicker) Wrong again Poindexter.... !! Again...the novelty of a 4 1/2"Clit Tickler wears off after 5 to 10 minutes no matter how much you move around..... Those of you with less...say 2 1/4 inches of Danglin' Fury.....a full epileptic seizure would not help your chances...

So what is the answer when it comes to women? How the hell would I know? This is not an advice column. I have been trying to figure women out for 16 years....I have only come to one definite conclusion. "Them bitches is crazy"

What the fuck am I talking about? After all I did start this out as a size matters issue right? Well friends I am going to answer that question now.

If a person has a large penis they can constantly take it out and wave it around at parties, which serves 2 purposes. It gives the prospective ladies a preview of possible things to come, while reminding all of us "slightly above average" Lap Rockets, that we don't have shit.

The guy with huge cock is also the first guy to get naked and jump in the ocean/pool/lake/hottub. Another advantage, because you get to sit next to the girl with nicest tits who was the first to go in for the ladies...

Once the cobra is out of the bag you are usually moved to the top of most women's revenge fuck list. (while they may be in a relationship now, there will more than likely come a time when there will be an ugly breakup and thus a revenge fuck will be in order...Ultimate revenge  being....."Um remember that guy that left 3 tracks in the sand when we skinny dipped at the beach last year? Well...he about ripped me in half last night...I never realized how small your dick was till that very moment. ..Oh well have a nice day!!"

The Big Dick guy has better self esteem. (This is obvious and needs no explanation)

The Big Dick guy will always get laid. (The more he takes it out the more he increases his chances.)

The Big Dick guy has an easier time taking a piss when Snowboarding/skiing/snowmobiling.

I am sure I can go on and on here...But I know some of you sick fuckers have some great comments so I will leave some off and let you have the glory.

I also missed a major segment of the Big Dick controversy by not including the Gay perspective. I didn't have time to consult any of my gay friends on this topic, so if you read this please weigh in....(No Dan I don't want to see your penis.)

P.S... This topic is not suitable for all ages. If you read this and you are not old enough to handle it, please stop reading now.

4:45 PM - 9 Comments - 10 Kudos - Add Comment

"The Man" Doesn't get it..! .... by MOE
Current mood: Pissed off... not really
Category: Pissed off... not really Jobs, Work, Careers

10:27 AM - 4 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Moe needs Cash
Current mood: bouncy
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

Running out of beer money 2 hours after you cash your paycheck would be one of the times it is considered acceptable to pull a ski mask down over your face and drive your K-car through a row of parking meters while your fellow Mensa compatriots, also donning ski masks and equally broke, follow behind in the wreckage of broken meters and loose change, scooping up as many quarters as possible before the 45 second window of opportunity slams shut when the police arrive from around the corner where Brains McDougal, your other fiscally unlucky compadre, is creating a distraction by faking a suicide in which he threatens to plummet to his death from the 2^nd story roof of the SPCA.

Yes desperate times call for extreme measures. Especially when it was not even a week ago that one of those very same parking meters robbed me of one dime and a nickel as I attempted to park legally in front of my parole officers establishment, (where I spent an hour explaining to him that even though you couldn't see my goiter, it was there and was preventing me from becoming regularly and gainfully employed.) Anyway, upon departure I realized that the 4'11 300 lb Parking Monitor with Downs Syndrome the city had hired as part of their "Hire the Handicapped" campaign had just ticketed the K-car.  So, after Brains and I threw his Uscoot into the city fountain I decided to calculate all of the times something similar to this had happened to me. Like the time I asked the fat stripper down at "Skin –N- Boners," for change from the single I had just seductively slipped into her B.V.D's." Not only did I not get my change but Lefty the one armed bouncer who was obviously having an off day and decided to take it out on me, threw me out before I got said change and had a chance to finish my still half full PBR.) Yes, I figured the local government was about due to pay Moe a little restitution for all of the heartache caused by faulty parking meters, retarded parking monitors, ornery door men, and greedy strippers.

So, me and Mensa boys concocted a little get rich quick scheme where no one would get hurt and the City would be relieved of some of its "Pork." That would be used no doubtedly for some corrupt politician to throw away on lap dance at that upscale strip joint in Mt. Adams, "Dirty Darla's House of Dolls and Peep Show." Yes sir this plan was fool proof I thought as I watched Brains, who was afraid of heights prepare for his part by pounding 3 half full cocktails left on the urinal in the men's room at Washed up Willies. It was not until later, much later, that I realized there may be a flaw in our thinking.

It wasn't watching Brains in training, weaving back and forth under the fire escape flailing his arms trying to grab the ladder 8 feet above his head that made me nervous. It wasn't even the fact that Jimmy the Bat's (a nickname received due to the fact that he always had a hardened yellow-green substance hanging from one or both nostrils 24/7,) ski mask only covered the back of his head. No I think it finally hit me as I swapped the plates on the K-car with those on Harry Weinstein's F-350, (a stroke of genius offered by one Jimmy the Bat, that would without a doubt shift the blame on terrorists since Harry was Jewish and from the Middle East) yes it was that moment that I realized it was my own equilibrium that concerned me. I had been in a bit of a dry spell with ladies and having my right hand in a cast didn't help matters. I had tried massaging the moisture missile with my left hand, but it just wasn't the same. I lost the mood every time as all it did was reminded me of  the clumsy HoJo I once got when I fell asleep on the bench next to the Gorilla exhibit at the Cincinnati Zoo and Botanical Garden.

With this epiphany I knew our caper would be in jeopardy if I didn't do something right then. So I threw down the Hammer and saw I was using to affix the license plates and walked across the street to Women's Shelter and Free Clinic. Now before you sick bastards stop reading, understand I was not there to prey on some unsuspecting newly "Battered woman" on the rebound. I had already tried that last year and subsequently spent the next two months in the "Battered Mens Home." No I was there to chat up the gals walking away from the free clinic. See, those women were obviously carefree enough to contract some unsavory disease and many were already pro's. My plan was simple, stand in the middle of the sidewalk outside the door and throw down my best "Mr. Atlas" pose. It would be less than 5 minutes before one of the "weaker sex" would give in to my hulking prowess and I would be able to haggle a HoJo for a free ride back downtown. Though it would be a bit awkward with her sitting up front between Brains and me, he would have to work out his own deal.  Why I am the one that usually has to make the sacrifices for the greater good is just something I live with every day. So don't go feeling bad for me as it is something I am not only accustomed to but also very accomplished at.

We were now ready to set our plan into full motion. We left Brains teetering on the edge of the roof of the SPCA and quickly sped around the corner to get into position in front of the row of parking meters. As we heard the sirens and watched the emergency vehicles speed by, I revved the engine of the K-car and watched the tachometer jump up to 1800 Rpm's and then slammed it into drive. There was a loud grinding then clunking noise followed by a cough and a 3 foot lurch as the K-car responded. Old faithful sped down the street toward the awaiting riches...and then.. the unthinkable happened.

The piece of speaker wire holding the hood latch in place was compromised as the duct tape holding the radiator in place gave way to the master cylinder that was sent flying forward as the K-Car lurched into action. This was probably not good since as you all know the master cylinder is that thingy that holds the break fluid and now I couldn't stop or see where I was going. Jimmy the Bat freaked out and tried stomping on the brake from the passenger side only to push the gas to the floor. That was when I politely asked Maria to stop administering the hand job while I gathered my thoughts.

They put me in a holding cell with a guy I had met when I was previously incarcerated. While his girth was a bit uncomfortable I do remember him being gentle and liking to cuddle which was good for me since I was feeling a bit needy due to my recent series of mishaps. The public defender did say I had a good chance of getting off since the K-car had only done minor damage to façade of the rest home and that no one had been hurt, (with the exception of Maria who lost her left right index finger in the accident, but would not be pressing charges since she was an illegal alien and had free medical) Combining the minimal damage with Buffet and Bingo Night, which had luckily placed all of the residents of the Rolling Acres Rest Home across the street at the VFW, made this guy about as fortunate as any true optimist could hope. So, needless to say, one or two nights of cuddling with Bulldog and I could actually hobble away from this mess with the only reprecussions being a temporarily hyper-dialated sphincter and 3rd degree whisker burns on my back.

Currently listening : Homecoming By Griffin House Release date: 30 January, 2007

9:17 AM - 6 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Divorce Hurts
Current mood: Yes
Category: Yes Romance and Relationships

Just though I would share.... Divorce is hard.

Currently listening : Absolution By Muse Release date: 23 March, 2004

4:00 PM - 9 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

Where have you been Moe?
Current mood: pessimistic
Category: Life

Where ya been Moe?

So why they won't let you have access to a computer in prison is beyond me. I tried explaining to the guard that my faithful readers were being punished for something I of course was not guilty of regardless of my incarceration. He laughed and hit me in the nuts with his night stick. So needless to say I have been rather quiet for a few months.

I am now free from the oppressive beasts in blue, the razor wire, steel and concrete that go with them. As our society continues to drift away from our constitutional right of innocent until proven guilty, common do-gooders such as myself will subsequently be put behind bars for nothing short of a brief misunderstanding. I mean it doesn't take even 1/100^th of my brain power let alone half the brain power of an average woman to know it is not appropriate to solicit an undercover police officer for sex.

So let's be clear on this before I go much farther, when you ask a woman how much? It does not always imply you are willing to pay her. Arguing as my own defense, which I always do, since all lawyers are too intellectually inferior to be able to understand the intricacies of a complicated psyche such as mine, I then explained to the idiot in a black robe and ridiculous wig that I was in fact asking her how much she was willing to fork over for a slice my hulking manmeat. When did they start using 15 year olds as decoys anyway?

Let me back track a bit a bit so that my feeble minded readers can catch up.  

   It was early spring in La Jolla and as the winter snows began to melt away, succumbing to the lush green grass where the buffalo and giraffe frolicked about on the beach. Yes it was going to be a beautiful day I said to myself as I brushed the damp sand off of my navy polyester trousers and donned my favorite pink Izod shirt and crawled out from under the board walk. See, today was going to be special, it was my birthday  (which is why I had left the Rainbow Haven trailer park for the weekend and driven down to my summer home under the Mission Beach pier. I completed my immaculate attire by adding the most formidable of all footwear, my Buster Brown white patent leather  ¾  high square tip boots complete with silver buckle, first made famous by Mr. Furley on 3's a Company. I didn't have any clean socks, but did have some white shoe polish left over to paint my ankles with, and thus tie the whole ensemble nicely together.

I enjoyed a breakfast of fish taco's and a quart of peach Maddog 20/20 while I quietly gazed at the female surfers peeling off their wetsuits by the showers. A few of them noticed me and then played hard to get by giving me a disgusted look and hopping around the corner. Unfortunately for them I was not going to play their coy little games today and chase them for a playground game of catch me if you can.. No sir, those little tramps were going to have find someone much less intelligent than me to fall for their little minx like teases. I don't much care for surfers anyway; they rarely get enough of the sand out of their respective cracks for my preference.

I stopped by "JosBee's Tshirt's and Other Thinks" and was able to haggle him from $8 down to $9.15 for a snappy looking straw fedora. I could tell he was impressed with my haggling abilities and threw in a "I hate Jose's Tshirts and Soks" keychain. There had been a long standing fued between Jose and Josbee, they used to run the same stand until Jose shaved his hermano's moustache off in his sleep and then proclaimed free Moustache rides for the ladies the following day. That was the last straw for poor Josbee and he left his brother forever and went into competition with him across the street.

Now dressed to kill and likely to do so I wandered the area for a few hours until I was approached by this attractive young woman with gigantious hooters who asked me if I wanted to party. I was sure that gargantuan bulge in my Johnny Miller collection polyester hip huggers was what got her attention , but after years of being objectified by my prowess I decided to reject her offer to "party with the twins." After all none of the woman on this corner looked anything like her so I wasn't sure who the other twin was.

She followed me for a half a block more telling how handsome I was and how great she thought my cakes looked in JM's, so I decided maybe I should play this smart. It was probably all she could do to not jump me right there and think of the embarrassment if I had to do the holy MOE right there in front of the homeless shelter. So I figured I would let her have me, if she could afford me that is. So I asked her how much? Which is a perfectly normal question to ask any woman who would want to cut a slice of the Moe since I wont do just any random stranger for free no matter how big her kajingas were.

That was the first time any woman had ever ratted out the Moe for trying to please her. So what if it would have set her back the cost of a sweet Fedora, she would not have found a more satisfying way to spend 3 minutes and I back that up with a full guarantee. "If at any time you are not satisfied with a deluxe Moe love making package (3 minutes and 30 seconds including foreplay) then the next one is on the house!" And I am proud to say that I have not had 1 person ever take me up on that guarantee.

Anyway I am a bit off track, once I said "how much …followed by is it worth to you?" She immediatley grabbed her left fun pillow and yelled "Move In", of  course, she nor the jury could make out the "is it worth to you" over her shrill cry into her rock hard port side areola. For the record folks if a woman approaches you on an 84 degree day with a pair of Alaskan glacier drillers at full alert, beware, they may be bugged.

So after 6 months on ice with some of the foulest criminals in SoCal, I am back, a bit more hardened, quite a bit more pessimistic,  yet newly soul searched and  lastly... in desperate need of a high colonic.

Moe out….but definitely not over.

Currently listening : Lost & Found By Griffin House Release date: 27 July, 2004

3:15 PM - 6 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

A response to the Scorp

Dropped in to find a challenge and thought, what better time to dust of the dormant writing... Not my normal stuff so if it sucks it is The Scorpions fault. Here is my response to his challenge.

A Blog Contest of Sorts

I came across a contest on another web page.  The object is to write a short story along this writing prompt: A lawyer discovers that his client is guilty of the heinous crime for which he has just been acquitted. I have written mine, which I will post tomorrow.  I wonder if anyone else is interested.  I am offering a prominent and hand-tailored feature article in Wednesday's (or Thursday's) Gossip Whore to the story I consider the best.  Just blog it (less than 2000 words please, give or take), post it, and link it here.  You have a day and a half.                                        -The Scorpion-

Its days like today that being a Lawyer licks my balls like a toothless hooker with a salt fetish.

It didnt start this way. I actually awoke at 10:30 this morning feeling semi-rested after a long night of celebrating my recent victory in Federal Court in which my client, Ernesto The Hatchet Vazquez was acquitted of all charges relating to the murder of his previous Lawyer, Frederick Barnes III, Esq. Ernesto had me out all night club hopping with several of his "female acquaintances" and a supporting cast that included 2 professional Baseball Players and an actor (who I would have previously sworn was gay,)  an endless supply of Crystal Champagne, any other "Party Favor" that was desired and as always with Ernesto, an unlimited supply of his trademark, Fine Cuban Cigars

I picked up this mornings edition of the Times after I escorted two of the "acquaintances" to the cab, Maria and Dawn I think. Anyway I grabbed my robe to keep from exposing myself to Mrs. English who had an obsessive compulsive disorder that involved constantly preening over two of the feeblest Rose bushes in the state while "noticing" everything that happened in a two block radius. It was there under her watchful eye, I stood, frozen, bent at the waste, robe in one hand my, eyes glued to the front page.

The Hatchet Did It!!!!! read the headline on the front page.

"Ohhhhhh. shit!" I mumbled to myself....... "Whats that?"  "Nothing Mrs. English." "You know I could see right through your lady friends shirt this morning, you really should be more considerate of the honest churchgoing folk in the neighborhood before you drag trollops like that home from God knows what hell forsaken slum." "No need to water this morning Mrs. English, I pissed all over your fucking Roses last night. Have a nice day!"  "Weeeellll ... I..... you..... I'll ......Cops... you... son of a...."   I hurried into the kitchen as Mrs. Englishs red faced ranting faded into the sounds of the street.

The Times article went on to say that although he was acquitted yesterday by yours truly, everyone had known he was guilty. Yeah? So what? Their case was weak and they had no hard evidence. Especially since I had the bloody hatchet in his trunk thrown out early on, (due to an overzealous rookie and an illegal search,) they didnt even have an adequate DNA match. Why it ever made it to trial was beyond me. The article went on to say that police received an anonymous tip as to the location of one Mr. Frederick Barnes III esq. and it wasnt a beach in Mexico as I had described in my defense. No Mr. Barnes apparently was holed up in one Mama Vazquez's SubZero coffin freezer in the garage of the beach home he had bought for her. Well at least the identifiable part was there, the head. The article also explained that there were enough body parts in that freezer to construct 3 Frankenstein's and 1 "Push me Pull You."

Shit, so much for the double jeopardy line of defense, they had other bodies now, plus they can tie the evidence from the other case to prosecute as a serial murderer this time, Damn! Oh well, Ernesto had paid me already, in cash, and unless those two whores could pack $140,000.00 in a g-string and a tube top, that money was safe in a duffel bag under my bed. What did I have to worry about?

As it turns out, plenty.

I did get the phone call about an hour later. It was Ernesto he was not happy and was convinced that I had taken his "splitting kindling in the deep freeze" jokes literally and had been the one who tipped off the cops. "No way!" I told him, "Just ask Mona and Tania or whatever, they were here all night." Then, silence.. followed by one word. "Slow." "Slow?" I said, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" "Your demise will be just that counselor...Slow" and the receiver went dead.

Ernesto is being held without bail, thank God, and I am now headed to that very beach in Mexico I accused Mr. Barnes of running off to. I am not optimistic I will make it there however, as I am positive my every move is being recorded. 3 cars pulled up at the bank at the exact same time as me and two more to my accountants office and two again at my own office. As I look out my office window now, I see smoke lightly curling up into the air from the cracked tinted window a black SUV that is parked across the street..It is a thick, heavy smoke,....too much smoke for a cigarette,... more consistent with that of a ...Fine... Cuban... Cigar.

4:40 PM - 4 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

2 in one day?? Are you freaking kidding me??

Ok I didn't write this all by myself but I do have a rather lengthy opinion on the subject that turns this collaborative effort into a work of sheer genius. Click below and let Red know what you think.

ROYCO

12:07 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment