Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Andee will never let Grey blog alone again...

Today, Andee is going to let me run wild and write whatever I want. I won't be around tomorrow because I'll be busy influencing government policy in Montgomery, Alabama, using bar-b-que chicken and ribs as my weapons of choice. "Oh, you don't want to support the 2-1-1 bill? That's too, try this bar-b-que, it's not hot.....oh, it IS hot? I had no idea...." So today is MY day to do WHATEVER I please.
Unfortunately for Andee and everyone else involved, this is probably not a good thing. Because this happens...

When I was in 3rd grade, I had an awesome birthday party. It was out at my grandparent's farm, and we all loaded up into the back of a 1967 Ford pickup truck and headed down the street and to the edge of the woods. It was there that my parents released us into the wild.

Seriously. That was my party.

But it was really super fun! There was an ankle-deep creek that sprang from the roots of a giant oak tree that was growing in the side of a cliff. It was truly magical. Only we couldn't drink the creek water, cause the cows probably peed in it. And we played Indians and hide and seek and tried to cross the creek over fallen logs. What made it really special was that it was a boy/girl party, so we were all trying to do things to impress each other, like the girls would take running leaps and try to make it over the creek without getting wet.

And the boys? Well, the boys would take their shirts off.

Did I forget to mention that this was 1993? And denim shorts were all the rage in boys fashion?

Yes, it was like a tiny, pre-pubescent version of the Twilight Wolf Pack, running through the woods, shirtless and jorted....

This memory made me think of what it would be like to have Stephenie Meyer's world of mythical creatures down here in the South. It wouldn't exactly be the same, though, would it? I guess it would all start with Tallulah Belle Swan, a teenaged beauty queen (winner of Miss Harvest Day, Miss Watermelon Rind, and Miss Rattlesnake Rodeo. She never could win that elusive Miss National Peanut Festival, however; a sore subject that to this day still brings back stories of backstage sabatoge every time it gets brought up). When her parents divorced because her mother ran away with the Swann's frozen food man (an ironic twist of fate, every good story needs one), Tallulah Belle was forced to move with her dad to the tiny town of Headland, Alabama. It was there at the local high school that she met the mysterious Dumas family, and in particular the youngest boy, Jack. After a series of strange occurances and lots of totally-chaste-but-still-completely-obvious-sexual tension, the two fall in love. But Jack has a secret...

During summer vacation, Tallulah Belle works down at the Tractor Auction selling chili dogs, and meets fellow employee Matthew "Mutt" Howyler from the nearby trailer park. The only two teenagers at the auction, they quickly become friends. Or so Tallulah Belle thinks. In fact, Mutt has fallen deeply in love with her. One day, when Jack comes to pick up Tallulah Belle and take her to the blueberry festival downtown, Mutt and Jack get into a confrontation over Tallulah Belle. But she can't help but think there was more to the altercation than just teenaged jealousy...

It turns out that there has been an epic, mythical war going on in Headland that Tallulah knew nothing about, and her precious Jack and best friend Mutt were both involved. You see, Mutt belongs to the town's legendary Coyote Pack, a group of southern boys who can magically transform into coyotes after consuming an entire 12-pack of Natural Light. (There's something about how the beer hops interact with their DNA. They could explain it to you, I guess, but they're drunk most of the time, so it hardly ever makes sense.) Each night, the boys gather, "jort up," consume copious amounts of Natty Light, and turn into coyotes. They then roam the fields of Headland and nearby Tumbleton, sniffing out and destroying cows that have the dreaded Mad Cow disease (Disclaimer: Cows from here don't have Mad Cow. This is just a story. Our cows have perfectly pleasant dispositions) and eating tiny little sweatered lap dogs when their owners let them outside to tinkle and make boom-boom.

To make matters even MORE complicated, Tallulah's true love Jack Dumas is Mutt's sworn enemy. Do you know what the natural enemy of the coyote is? Do you know what farmers put in cow fields to protect the cows? Well, the enemy of the coyote is none other than the donkey. Yes, you read it right...Jack and his family transform into donkeys each night, and place themselves in the cowfields to protect the innocent, not-mad cows from the Coyote Pack's cow-blood lust. A swift kick in the head and a nip at the ear, and the coyotes are running, tail between their legs. All night long, you hear the sound of their epic, eternal battle: "Arrrrrrrooooooooooooo" intermingled with "Heeee-HAW, heeee-HAW."

Oh, yeah. The Dumas donkey family also performs an even more important task for the common good: keeping the townspeople of Headland safe from all those drunken coyotes.

*Who should Tallulah Belle choose--the donkey or the coyote? Did you enjoy this pointless story? Did you see that I named the donkey Jack Dumas, or Jack Dumb Ass, or JACK ASS? You know, cause he's a donkey? Or that the coyote was Mutt Howyler? Yeah, that one wasn't as good...*


  1. Wow.

    My mouth actually dropped upon and I dropped my stress "throwed roll" that I was squeezing.


    *stands up* *applauds widely*

    I always thought Edward was a jackass... but donkeys are cute. You have to love them.

    And coyotes? I just hate them and their weird alien howls.


  2. Thank you, but it's probably not a good idea to encourage the insane.

    Because, you know...they just keep being insane.

    But THANK YOU!


  3. ....Grey, there are no words to express how insane your post is today(and by insane I mean awesome!)....and I will miss you tomorrow! You better berry message me sometime!

    You know I love ya,

  4. I think - no, I KNOW - that this is one of the best posts in the history of blogdom.

    *ahem* Stream-of-conciousness response below:

    I have BEEN to such a birthday party. We hunted snipe. Holy crap! Creek jumping! My friend and I totally invented that in 1990! Royalties, please. Awwwww, tiny, pre-pubescent wolf pack. Awwwwwww. Hey, my hometown has a Miss Watermelon Festival! The winner is usually in her sixties. Also, there is a dog contest, I think. Miss Canine Watermelon Festival or something. Mmmmmm. Schwann's. I love the rootbeer float bars and mini-pizzas. I do not love the aggressive sales tactics. Go away now. Dumas. Dumas. This is why I'm a forksamaniac. Sofa king brilliant. Natural Light! *gags* Haha. Also see: Miller High Life. *gags again* Beer. Sicknast. Your cows have perfectly pleasant dispositions? *giggle* That's really funny. Good line. OMG. Cow donkeys. I totally HAVE a cow donkey! But mine's busted! It won't play nice with the cows. We have to keep ol' Sally in with the horses. Dang busted donkey. Ohhhhhh, thanks for the end note about the Jack Dumas/Jack Dumbass/Jack Ass thing. I thought it was brilliant enough that you used such a typically southern last name, but now? NOW? You have been scaled up. Full-on genius blogger.

    There you have it. Word vomit, but hey, this post totally deserved the regurgitation. If you guys held a live-blogging concert, I'd be flashing you right now. Watch out.

  5. I can't BELIEVE I misspelled Schwann's. I mean, that stupid truck is in my neighborhood like EVERY DAY. Geez.