This Aint' About Space Aliens

By Levin,  aka the space alien

        It was a job, getting packed up for the trip.  There was Me, Ma, Mae Ella (our weird cousin)and our two dogs, Minus and Lucky.  We call him minus because he ain't got no tail.  The other dog has three legs, no ears, a burnt back, and no hair on his face, all from accidents.  That's why we call him lucky I guess.  Anyway we got everything ready and went to sleep.  Least wise, Mae Ella slept.  That gal can do some snoring.
        Day one of the trip was uneventful, except for the unfortunate misunderstanding about the gas.  I would not drive off without paying for gas.  By the way, the jail cells in Commerce Georgia are very uncomfortable.  I drove down my street and turned left on Martin Luther King Boulevard.  This was to be a very confusing vacation for me.  I got to Montgomery Alabama and there (if you can believe it) was Martin Luther King Boulevard.  Everywhere I went the MLK boulevard was there.  Next time I will just get on MLK and go all the way to Texas.
        Talk about being everywhere!  Just about everywhere I went there was a sign for that King fellow and his Korean half brother.  Nosmo King and Nopar King had there names on just about all the buildings and parking lots wherever we went.  And the rangers at the tourist centers are very rude.  I asked that one about Nopar King and he told me to get away from him.  I think I will report him to his boss.  
        Anyway, we got to Tuscaloosa, Alabama that first night.  That's where they have the insane asylum.  I used to live there.  I wanted to go visit but Ma said they might make me stay.  Y'all know how that southern hospitality is.  WE rode and rode that second day, until we came to this sign that said Bolton.  Now, Jerry Bolton is a good friend of mine, we were going to visit, and I didn't even know he had a sign on the interstate.  I stopped and asked the filling station guy where Jerry was.  He just looked at me.  I said, "Well, the sign out on the interstate said Bolton."  Danged fellow called the sherrif.  The sherrif said I ought to go back to Tuscaloosa.  I guess he was full of southern hospitality and wanted me to visit my buddies.
        Anyway, that second night we stayed in Mississippi.  There was all these nice guys dressed up in white robes and hoods that stayed at the little motel with us.  They invited me to come to one of their rallies, as they called it.  They said they would have a big fire.  I asked if I could bring some weenies and marshmellows.  They left without taking me.  That next morning we looked out and saw a waffle house.  I asked lucy if that was a good place to eat.  She always was kind of smart.  We walked over there and they had big windows all around the place.  I could see there was people in there so I asked Lucy what they were doing.
        "That fellow is masticating," she said.
        I covered Ma's eyes and told Lucy to come on.  Masticating in a public restaurant!  Them people in Mississippi is plumb nasty.  Anyway, we left Mississippi, had balogna sandwiches for breakfast and lunch.  We drove on down into Louisiana where we met our buddy, Jerry.  Now I was taking old lucky down there to sell to Jerry.  Lucky is the best Rabbit Hound in the whole U S of A.  That first night I let Jerry take old lucky and try him out.  I told him we would meet anywhere except the waffle house the next night.  That next night he met us at this Cajun Cooking place.  He told me he didn't want to buy lucky, 'cause he was crazy.
        "Crazy, what are you taling about, Jerry," I said.
        "Well, I took the dog and let him go in the field.  He ran around one briar patch and barked one time.  I walked up there and the dog jumped in the patch.  One rabbit run out.  I thought that was pretty good.  The he ran around another briar patch and barked twice.  Two rabbits run out.  I said to myself, this here dogs a keeper.  We shot about six rabbits when the stupid dog run around another briar patch.  He stopped and looked at me, then run back around the other way.  He started going crazy, grabbed a stick in his mouth and come up on my leg, just-a humping, like he was making baby rabbit dogs.  He done gone crazy."
        I just sat there, took another drink of my Beam and Coke.  "Jerry, you are the one that's crazy," said I.  "You know what the dog was trying to tell you?"
        "No, what," said Jerry.
    `    I said, "He was trying to tell you there were so many fu&*ing rabbits in that briar patch that you couldn't shake a stick at them."
        Well, Jerry took the dog and gave me enough for me an Ma to make it on to Texas.  Mae Ella was getting on my nerves.  I let Ma drive.  Mae Ella was reading a bool.  I asked her what the name of the book was.  She said it was "50 yards to the outhouse, by Willie Makeit."  I asked her if it was any good.  She told me to go to hell.  One of these days, I'm gonna slap that gal.
        Anyway, after we got through visiting in Louisiana we went on to Texas.  Ma said I was driving too fast and the cops would get me.  I know she was looking out for me.  I slowed down to twenty miles and hour and the danged cops picked me up anyway.  Said I couldn't drive that slow on the interstate highway.  It cost me three hundred to get out of that jail.  
         We stopped over there by Houston.  There was all these big limousines parked out in front of the truck stop.  We sat down in a booth.  In the next booth was three cowboy looking fellows talking.  Two of them looked real serious and the third one was always smiling.
          That first  one said,  "yep, got me a little spread out in West Texas, 10 thousand acres.  I call it the bar J."
        That next fellow said,  "Hmph, I got 25 thousand acres out in west Texas.  I call it the rocking R ranch."  All this time that third fellow was just smiling.
        One of them asked him, "Pardner, you got a place anywhere here in Texas?"
        He took a puff on that big cigar and said, "YeP."
    `    "How many acres you got," the one said.
        "Got me 25 acres," was what he said as the other two started laughing.
        The one says, as he laughed, "twenty five acres?  What do you call your spread?"
        He just took another puff on that big cigar, "I call it downtown Dallas," was what he said.
        We finally got to my brother's house in Rock Springs Texas.  He must of been out getting some beer for us 'cause the house was locked up tight.  Luckily I always carry some tools, so I took the front door off and made myself At home.  My brother must of been lost cause he didn't come home for three days while we were there.  We got to the border of Mexico and the guy there told us there was a lot of trouble with drugs and maybe we shouldn't go.  I asked him if them people could fill my prescriptions for cheap and he kept me there for a long time.  We had run out of money so we went back to my brothers.  I had to pawn his TV and stereo to get enough money for me, Ma, Minus, and Mae Ella to get back home.  He won't mind.
        The trip home was okay except for the gator what ate Mae Ella.  I told her not to get too close, but would she listen.  Anyway, we got her purse away from the gator and she had 48 dollars in there.  That was enough for another six pack of lone star beer and a tank of gas.
        This one fellow there sold me a pack of something he said was weed.  It was expensive, but Ma said it looked like that stuff what goes in Sphagetti.  She made a big pot last night and put that weed stuff in it.  Man, that is the best Spashetti I ever had.  It was good.
        We bought a lot of souvenirs for everyone but had to pawn them too for enough money to get back.  My brother called after we were home and started cussing me.  He always was a kidder.  So that's how my vacation was.                              the end

levin60kitty levin60kitty
1 Response Mar 26, 2009

welcome ... back ..., commander ... there... has... been... much... craziness... since... you... left... may... have... to... use... Force... Six... Ray... on... many... EPers...