Wednesday, November 16, 2005

The Wayward Boy Scout

I've been thinking about Sarcastro's Home for Wayward Girls and it tickles me because I now know, first-hand, that he just knows a lot of wayward people. Take Exador. Last night he promised to be a good influence on me--yes, suggesting that I, your kind host--was somehow a bad influence on him. And anyway, it must have worked, because this morning I woke up feeling very sympathetic to God. Poor God, who's all the time in the Old Testament looking down on folks and saying, "Oh my Self, you idiot mortal have called yourself the wrong thing." That's how I feel today--that a man has called himself so wrong that I must take the extraordinary step of giving a pseudonym to a pseudonymous internet identity. Call yourself what you want to, Exador. Around here, you're going to be the Wayward Boy Scout. How wayward, folks? Let me illustrate. Last night the Wayward Boy Scout came back to finish showing me all the cool places in town. I was exhausted from all the drinking and the sightseeing from the night before, but this is a man you trust can keep a person entertained, so I dragged my sorry ass back out again. We had pizza and beer, which coupled with the utter exhaustion, went straight to my head. So, at some point we're sitting in the most awesome strip club ever with all these drugged out alterna-chicks dancing on a platform not three feet from us, and the Wayward Boy Scout is lecturing me--me, who has ever taken zero people to strip clubs to throw dollar bills in people's underwear--about the immorality of government. I shit you not. But I don't disagree. Of course the government is immoral. Imposing your will on other adults is always, to some extent, immoral. But my point was, "So what?" And he attempted to make some kind of argument--in a strip club mind you--about the necessity of fleeing from immorality. Anyway, I owe the Wayward Boy Scout big time and so I'm going to make him an afghan to show my gratitude. Though, perhaps, I'll leave the ends loose so that he can practice his knot tying, because it's apparent to me that he needs to brush up on some of the foundational tenets of Scouting.

13 Comments:

Blogger grandefille said...

Oh my.

My Man from GM is also known as The Chain-Smokin' Altar Boy. Because he is and was one. It always ticks him off when his wife and I call him that, though.

I never thought about taking him to a strip club and lecturing him on morality. He'd probably pass out in the parking lot and then beg me to take him to confession.

I admit that I'm not brave enough to go to a strip club. I would want to rescue the girls and take them to MegaLoMart and buy them comfy sweatpants and socks and cans of beef stew and boxes of low-sodium crackers and then tuck them onto their couches with afghans and lots of money and updated resumes and a list of potential employers and continuing ed classes so they wouldn't have to go back to a strip club and fellate a pole.

Sadly, I don't yet have that kind of money. It is a goal, though.

Glad you're back safe and sound, B.

11/16/2005 09:13:00 AM  
Blogger Exador said...

I must admit that part of my motivation for pressing the debate on government was that I didn't want to have to make eye contact with the current dancer. I'm a sucker for tipping, but I wanted to save my money for Violet, the excellent show-woman on ecstacy, or Tabby, the stripper with the shaved head.

11/16/2005 09:16:00 AM  
Anonymous Sarcastro said...

Best. Post. Evah!

The Euclid Yacht Club and Clermont Lounge welcomes you to Atlanta.

Please tell me the giant black stripper/poet named Blondie was working. Always a crowd pleaser.

11/16/2005 10:21:00 AM  
Blogger Lee said...

"Tabby, the stripper with the shaved head."

Did she look like Sigourney Weaver in Alien 3? If so, that's so hot.

11/16/2005 10:53:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

If I'd known you were into that sort of thing I might have made a different suggestion for lunch last week.

W

11/16/2005 11:41:00 AM  
Blogger Exador said...

Tabby was pretty hot, but Violet stole my heart. (It may have been because she was naked.)
You haven't lived until you've played basketball where the ball is a crumpled up dollar bill, and the hoop is an oustretched thong. If only B was a better shot!

11/16/2005 11:50:00 AM  
Blogger grandefille said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

11/16/2005 12:19:00 PM  
Blogger grandefille said...

"Glad you're back safe and sound, B."

Whoops! D-OH! See, this is what happens when I read for speed rather than comprehension.

Please pretend previous post reads "Will be glad to know you're back safe and sound, B. Especially after playing thong basketball with a stripper."

11/16/2005 12:20:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

I told you I threw like a girl!

Anyway, W., I have a hard time believing there's such an awesome place in Nashville. But, if there is, we can always go to lunch again.

11/16/2005 12:48:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

Can we call your new pasttime, THONGBALL?

It just rolls off the tongue.
(So to speak)

I'm starting a league.

11/17/2005 01:22:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Oh, I see, since Violet said she'd rather make out with me than you, now you've got to create sports-related reasons to see her again.

She was cute and that purr! Good god, y'all, that woman had this purr that could melt cold butter.

But she was nowhere near as cute as the girl with the flashy things in her hair. She was my favorite.

11/20/2005 05:58:00 PM  
Blogger Exador said...

Then you should have gotten a table dance off the little Catholic SchoolGirl with the lights in her hair, as I was begging you to do.

Wuss!

11/21/2005 03:00:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Unlike you, I'm not made of money. I can't just be tossing dollar bills at cute little girls for shits and giggles.

If I want to see nice round tits and crazy women wiggling them, I have to do with just looking in the mirror.

But fine, next time, if there's a next time, I'll get a lap dance. I was not being wussy, just pragmatic, and trying to be a good influence on you to make up for the salacious insinuendos you made about me earlier.

11/21/2005 03:07:00 PM  

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