A few weeks back, I went out to San Antonio on business. I had a bag of free time and an expense account, so I did some wandering around. The Alamo was a bit of a let down, aside from the crazy preachers in the plaza out front. Mike (not Engineer Mike), Jeff, and I stopped to listen to one, and he became flustered. It was kind of neat, actually, and we pulled for him, like we'd pull for a first time stand up comic with a bad case of stage fright.
Then I made the mistake of visiting Stella, out in Seguin. Stella wasn't the problem...On the contrary, she and her daughter made me feel very welcome. The problem was the town itself.
On Saturday, Stella and I went to get some coffee at about 2PM. As we pulled up to the coffee shop, we saw a small group of teabagger-esque protestors holding up signs. We couldn't read the signs, because they were either really tiny, or - in one case - done with all the letters colored differently, on the back of real estate signs they had stolen.
I am annoyed by bad propaganda, so I pulled forward 3 spaces along the curb, both to read the sign, and to annoy the fat lady with the sour face that was holding the offending sign. The sign read "WIGGENS MUST GO"...Apparently, Wiggins is a judge there, and he got caught dealing pot. Being a typical small town, the police refused to do anything about it. I found out later that they were playing jurisdiction games to try to make the problem go away.
The lady, upon being blocked, shot Stella a nasty look, and then moved to the next block. We had a good time making fun of them while we drank our coffee...The coffee shop owner was giggling while we did so, but the other patrons kept giving us sour looks.
There was NOTHING ELSE TO DO in that town...So we wound up going to the bar a little early for Saint Patrick's Day. Outside the bar were a bunch of rusty cars and pickups, each with a confederate flag. One nice, new Avalanche was also out front, with the infamous "re-nig" bumpersticker on it. I was clearly in the Yahoo Nation, and I could tell that things were going to go downhill fast.
Inside, there were a half-dozen rednecks at the bar, and an older guy wearing expensive - by Seguin's standards - clothes. He was apparently the owner of the Avalanche. He was about 60...But if the girl sitting on his lap swapping spit with him was 18, I will kiss my own ass.
The bartender was a young Hispanic lady with a ridiculous leprechaun hat and a smile stapled to her face. She was clearly not enjoying the holiday. I ordered a Sprite for myself and a Shiner Boch for Stella, and then spoke to the bartender.
"You don't LOOK Irish."
"Heh. My boss made me wear this damn thing."
"Is HE Irish?"
"No. He's as German as everyone else in this fucked up town."
She was giving me the stink eye. I think she smelled cop, and apparently the town was waiting for out of town cops to come investigate Judge Wiggins (Judging from the news online, they're still waiting).
"Well, tell your boss that St Patrick's Day is no excuse for wandering around being Irish all day."
She laughed, and went to serve one of the rednecks down the bar.
Stella and I sat there for a while, making fun of Texas, the Alamo, and Seguin. I named all the rednecks, as each one exemplified a different type of redneck. The fat one was Bubba, the guy trying to hide his lack of chin with a scraggly beard was Cletus, etc. The locals that heard us didn't look happy about our behavior, but I think the cop thing kept them from giving us a proper Texas "welcome".
After a time, I went to take a piss. The men's room was a stall, a trough, and also the back door to the bar. While I was pissing, two ladies of Japanese descent walked through the backdoor, right past me, and into the bar. I'm telling you, this place OOZED class. Above the trough, some confused yahoo had written "Liberal faggots shood (sic) suck my cock."
When I came back out, the mood had turned even uglier. The Japanese ladies had decided, it seemed, to sit at Someone's Chosen Table. The man was telling them that this was his traditional table, and the Japanese ladies were explaining that they couldn't give two fucks about his traditions. Strangely enough, the man backed down and sat at the next table, sulking at them, much to their amusement.
Stella and I continued talking shit until we got bored, and then decided to whip around to the park, where there was supposedly some kind of party going on. There was, but everyone there was in their 20s, so we sat in a pavilion a few hundred feet away and smoked & joked for a while.
The park, incidentally, contains the town's sewer treatment plant. Right next to the fence surrounding the plant was the bathroom...One of those hideous cinderblock blockhouse-type bathrooms. We both had to piss like racehorses, but I dreaded the bathroom. You could smell it from a hundred feet away.
But what choice did we have? She went around to the women's side, and I went in the men's entrance. I looked down in the urinal as I began to piss, and saw a pair of leopard-print women's panties wadded up in the bottom. This added the perfect amount of sleaze; it sort of told all of Seguin's pathetic story to me...Failure and low-rent romance, in a town that empties itself of Black people a half hour before dusk.
When I came out, Stella was still in the bathroom, so I waited on the lawn beside the service road. A few seconds later, a pickup truck with a lift kit and two chinless wonders roared up. The yahoo in the passenger seat eyeballed me, sizing me up for a stomping. A strange face in a small town is fodder for that sort of thing, especially in a drunken Texas backwater.
He belched, and then said "Who the hell'r YEW?"
I glared at him and said, "FBI. Is something wrong?"
The yahoos eyes got big, and they roared off. Thanks again, Judge Wiggins.
Stella came out a moment later, and I drove her home. I dropped her off near her house, and then went up to the Texas Cooler on the corner to get a pack of smokes. There was nobody at the counter, but I heard what was apparently a little on-the-job loving coming from behind a cubicle-style partition at the back. I loudly cleared my throat, and I heard some frantic whispering behind the partition.
A moment or so later, a woman weighing at least 300 pounds waddled out and sold me two packs of smokes. As I was leaving, I saw a guy weighing maybe 95 pounds standing next to the screen in his underwear, looking at me. The woman was probably in her 50s, the guy was maybe 25, and apparently had no teeth. I was overcome with loathing, for reasons that I can't really explain to anyone who has never been to small town Texas.
I calmly got into my rental car, and then screeched out of the parking lot. Although I hate machines that talk to people, I engaged the GPS...I was NOT getting lost in this creepy fucking town. I hit the city limits doing 70MPH, and jammed onto the highway, accelerating up to 90 or so, dodging drunks, heading back to the relatively civilized San Antonio, where people at least have the decency to keep all their chromosomes in the right order.
None of this really does justice to the hopeless squalor that is Seguin. It's everything that's wrong with rural America. It's the reality behind the myth of "small town living". Small towns aren't "wholesome", they are horrible pits full of crime, alcoholism, and drug abuse. You can't leave anything around, or it's gone. The people are bored, mean drunks who will stomp you for any reason or no reason at all, if they think they can get away with it.
They are the people of the flattened DNA helix. We must leave them behind, if there is to be any hope at all for our species.
Okay for now,
Dok
I'm gonna have to remember the "FBI" trick next time I find myself in the Wild.
Quote from: LMNO, PhD (life continues) on April 02, 2012, 05:16:38 PM
I'm gonna have to remember the "FBI" trick next time I find myself in the Wild.
It's not a bad line, but the fact that they were
expecting outside law enforcement gave me a bit of an edge.
QuoteSmall towns aren't "wholesome", they are horrible pits full of crime, alcoholism, and drug abuse. You can't leave anything around, or it's gone. The people are bored, mean drunks who will stomp you for any reason or no reason at all, if they think they can get away with it.
Absolutely. Having spent far too much time in many "rural towns" and "small towns" I can tell you nothing combines ethnocentric hostility, small-minded meanness and ingrained prejudice as living in a town where everyone knows everyone, and cares more about what that guy on the next street's father did thirty years ago than what is happening nowadays. They say isolation drives people crazy, but apparently social and cultural isolation does the same things for entire communities.
I am, in fact, returning to my parents place next week, which is located in such a town. I'll have the house to myself, at least, but I suspect I've been gone long enough for most people to have forgotten my face, never mind that I was serving them their drinks at one point. Oh well, it's only for six days. I'm sure I can't get into that much trouble in such a short period of time...
Quote from: Cain on April 02, 2012, 05:18:02 PM
QuoteSmall towns aren't "wholesome", they are horrible pits full of crime, alcoholism, and drug abuse. You can't leave anything around, or it's gone. The people are bored, mean drunks who will stomp you for any reason or no reason at all, if they think they can get away with it.
Absolutely. Having spent far too much time in many "rural towns" and "small towns" I can tell you nothing combines ethnocentric hostility, small-minded meanness and ingrained prejudice as living in a town where everyone knows everyone, and cares more about what that guy on the next street's father did thirty years ago than what is happening nowadays. They say isolation drives people crazy, but apparently social and cultural isolation does the same things for entire communities.
I am, in fact, returning to my parents place next week, which is located in such a town. I'll have the house to myself, at least, but I suspect I've been gone long enough for most people to have forgotten my face, never mind that I was serving them their drinks at one point. Oh well, it's only for six days. I'm sure I can't get into that much trouble in such a short period of time...
I have faith in you.
Well, I do have obscene amounts of money and some small grudges to settle...
In fact, I've arranged my first meet-up in the bar that still refused to pay me after I'd worked there for over a month. Might have to do something about that...
Quote from: Cain on April 02, 2012, 05:20:46 PM
Well, I do have obscene amounts of money and some small grudges to settle...
In fact, I've arranged my first meet-up in the bar that still refused to pay me after I'd worked there for over a month. Might have to do something about that...
I can think of about 10 ways to take it out of their hide.
Same. Friday night is always the biggest take...it would be terrible if something were to happen which would mean they needed to close up that night.
Or if someone reported a case of food poisoning to the local (free) paper. Or rats to health and safety inspectors (with a corpse or two relocated from the local fields where cats hunt them). Or half a dozen other things I shouldn't really talk about on the net.
I know, ultimately the best revenge is success, but a little vindictive pleasure in the misery of others often goes down well, too.
Woooow, I've seen and/or heard of some weird/awful/gross things in worse parts of town and/or worse off cities, but it all seemed to be symptomatic of "city life"/drugs/poverty and sort of...fit it? (not that it makes it ok). That all just sounds so creepy, and unreal. How does anyone live there? (sorry, Stella)
Quote from: trippinprincezz13 on April 02, 2012, 05:27:45 PM
Woooow, I've seen and/or heard of some weird/awful/gross things in worse parts of town and/or worse off cities, but it all seemed to be symptomatic of "city life"/drugs/poverty and sort of...fit it? (not that it makes it ok). That all just sounds so creepy, and unreal. How does anyone live there? (sorry, Stella)
City life is safer and more pleasant than small towns. As I say, the small town life is a myth.
I have an ex-GF who now lives in Ireland. She loved Dublin, but then she and her husband & kids moved to a small town several miles away...She's been miserable ever since. They'll always be outsiders, and the townies never let them forget it for a moment, with nasty "jokes", etc, and as I say, you can't leave a fucking thing laying around for a second without it evaporating.
Small town Arizona is even worse, with the exception of Benson.
" If you move away from here for more than a year, then come back, you're a fucking tourist. We don't like tourists"
^quote from one of the people I went to school with in a small norwegian town (pop. 280).
Quote from: Waffle Iron on April 02, 2012, 05:40:47 PM
" If you move away from here for more than a year, then come back, you're a fucking tourist. We don't like tourists"
^quote from one of the people I went to school with in a small norwegian town (pop. 280).
Jealousy at anyone that escaped for a time, I imagine.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 05:43:38 PM
Quote from: Waffle Iron on April 02, 2012, 05:40:47 PM
" If you move away from here for more than a year, then come back, you're a fucking tourist. We don't like tourists"
^quote from one of the people I went to school with in a small norwegian town (pop. 280).
Jealousy at anyone that escaped for a time, I imagine.
I imagine. I visited said town for the first time in 15 years last summer. It had not changed one single bit. The old folks looked just the same, the grown-ups were a little greyer, and people my age had either escaped or turned into their parents.
Also, drugs are rampant, and the "cool kids" tend to get into knife fights with the local sami population.
Quote from: Waffle Iron on April 02, 2012, 05:46:34 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 05:43:38 PM
Quote from: Waffle Iron on April 02, 2012, 05:40:47 PM
" If you move away from here for more than a year, then come back, you're a fucking tourist. We don't like tourists"
^quote from one of the people I went to school with in a small norwegian town (pop. 280).
Jealousy at anyone that escaped for a time, I imagine.
I imagine. I visited said town for the first time in 15 years last summer. It had not changed one single bit. The old folks looked just the same, the grown-ups were a little greyer, and people my age had either escaped or turned into their parents.
Also, drugs are rampant, and the "cool kids" tend to get into knife fights with the local sami population.
Sami?
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 05:47:23 PM
Quote from: Waffle Iron on April 02, 2012, 05:46:34 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 05:43:38 PM
Quote from: Waffle Iron on April 02, 2012, 05:40:47 PM
" If you move away from here for more than a year, then come back, you're a fucking tourist. We don't like tourists"
^quote from one of the people I went to school with in a small norwegian town (pop. 280).
Jealousy at anyone that escaped for a time, I imagine.
I imagine. I visited said town for the first time in 15 years last summer. It had not changed one single bit. The old folks looked just the same, the grown-ups were a little greyer, and people my age had either escaped or turned into their parents.
Also, drugs are rampant, and the "cool kids" tend to get into knife fights with the local sami population.
Sami?
Aren't they the semi nomadic reindeer herders?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sami_people (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sami_people)
Quote from: Waffle Iron on April 02, 2012, 05:49:57 PM
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sami_people (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sami_people)
Oh, Laplanders. How did that become a perjorative?
If you mean Laplanders as a pejorative term, I'm not sure, but people up in that li'l shithole I grew up in used the term Lapp, and it was not a term of endearment.
Quote from: Waffle Iron on April 02, 2012, 05:56:06 PM
If you mean Laplanders as a pejorative term, I'm not sure, but people up in that li'l shithole I grew up in used the term Lapp, and it was not a term of endearment.
Back in the 70s, our geography class covered Norway, among other places. They taught "Lapp" as the word for the indigenous people in Norway.
Of course, in the 70s, they still referred to Native Americans as "Indian", and Blacks as "colored people".
Nailed it, Dok. :lulz: Renee read it too and wants to know who the woman at the Texas Cooler was? I suspect one with her hair bleached to the shade of a wooly mammoth that's been frozen for 20,000 years...haven't seen her in awhile, thought she might have fallen into a tar pit.
Quote from: trippinprincezz13 on April 02, 2012, 05:27:45 PM
Woooow, I've seen and/or heard of some weird/awful/gross things in worse parts of town and/or worse off cities, but it all seemed to be symptomatic of "city life"/drugs/poverty and sort of...fit it? (not that it makes it ok). That all just sounds so creepy, and unreal. How does anyone live there? (sorry, Stella)
No need for apologies, I love slamming this shithole. :lol:
It's a combination of things. One is propaganda, the papers are always on about what a great place this is to live and raise kids. There's a feature called "Citizen Of The Week" where they interview someone local at random (never me - can't imagne why :lol: ) and this mantra gets repeated EVERY TIME. (The also ask such probing questions as "If you could invite five people, living or dead, to a dinner party, who would they be" The answer is always something along the lines of "Grandma and Grandpa, Jesus, George Bush and Glenn Beck")
Another option is staying drunk.
There's also the fact that the majority don't make *quite* enough money to get the fuck out.
And then you have the flattened double helixes that Dok mentioned. Most of them were raised here. "Ain't been no further'n San Antonio. Ain't had no need to go."
It's a place where you see Chihuahuas chained outside because "dogs make the house stink" but you need a hazmat suit to enter a public restroom.
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 05:59:46 PM
No need for apologies, I love slamming this shithole. :lol:
It's a combination of things. One is propaganda, the papers are always on about what a great place this is to live and raise kids. There's a feature called "Citizen Of The Week" where they interview someone local at random (never me - can't imagne why :lol: )
Weren't you telling me they did one on the village idiot? :lol:
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 05:59:46 PM
Nailed it, Dok. :lulz: Renee read it too and wants to know who the woman at the Texas Cooler was? I suspect one with her hair bleached to the shade of a wooly mammoth that's been frozen for 20,000 years...haven't seen her in awhile, thought she might have fallen into a tar pit.
Heavy middle-aged woman with blond from a bottle. Greenish teeth, elbow flaps, skin looks like dough.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 05:58:50 PM
Quote from: Waffle Iron on April 02, 2012, 05:56:06 PM
If you mean Laplanders as a pejorative term, I'm not sure, but people up in that li'l shithole I grew up in used the term Lapp, and it was not a term of endearment.
Back in the 70s, our geography class covered Norway, among other places. They taught "Lapp" as the word for the indigenous people in Norway.
Of course, in the 70s, they still referred to Native Americans as "Indian", and Blacks as "colored people".
We had geography books from the fifties at school, in the shithole. Some... weird... terms in those books.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:01:41 PM
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 05:59:46 PM
No need for apologies, I love slamming this shithole. :lol:
It's a combination of things. One is propaganda, the papers are always on about what a great place this is to live and raise kids. There's a feature called "Citizen Of The Week" where they interview someone local at random (never me - can't imagne why :lol: )
Weren't you telling me they did one on the village idiot? :lol:
Yes, Crazy Fred.
Crazy Fred is an old drunk who walks around begging. People feel sorry for him and let him clean their yards, or sleep in their sheds. He always ends up stealing from them. They featured him because he'd allegedly given some guy CPR. Not sure how he managed that, since he's so incoherent they skipped the dinner party question that week. :lol:
We have another character called Nicki, she's a streetwalker. She used to be a big girl, but she went on the "rock diet" and now she's all cottage-cheesey with Daisy Dukes up to the small of her back. She got busted a year or two back and they sent her to rehab. When people noticed she wasn't around, a rumor started that she's been murdered, that she'd fought her attacker so hard that her fingernails were peeled backwards. I know her sister and knew what really happened, and I COULD NOT CONVINCE ANYBODY that Nicki wasn't dead. They all "heard it from somebody who heard it from a cop." I guess it was one of their moral cautionary tales, "black hookers come to a bad end" or something like that.
When she got out, I pointed her out to somebody and they said "That's not Nicki, that's her sister." :horrormirth:
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:02:57 PM
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 05:59:46 PM
Nailed it, Dok. :lulz: Renee read it too and wants to know who the woman at the Texas Cooler was? I suspect one with her hair bleached to the shade of a wooly mammoth that's been frozen for 20,000 years...haven't seen her in awhile, thought she might have fallen into a tar pit.
Heavy middle-aged woman with blond from a bottle. Greenish teeth, elbow flaps, skin looks like dough.
Yep. That's her.
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 06:16:20 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:02:57 PM
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 05:59:46 PM
Nailed it, Dok. :lulz: Renee read it too and wants to know who the woman at the Texas Cooler was? I suspect one with her hair bleached to the shade of a wooly mammoth that's been frozen for 20,000 years...haven't seen her in awhile, thought she might have fallen into a tar pit.
Heavy middle-aged woman with blond from a bottle. Greenish teeth, elbow flaps, skin looks like dough.
Yep. That's her.
So who was the toothless dude?
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:17:31 PM
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 06:16:20 PM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:02:57 PM
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 05:59:46 PM
Nailed it, Dok. :lulz: Renee read it too and wants to know who the woman at the Texas Cooler was? I suspect one with her hair bleached to the shade of a wooly mammoth that's been frozen for 20,000 years...haven't seen her in awhile, thought she might have fallen into a tar pit.
Heavy middle-aged woman with blond from a bottle. Greenish teeth, elbow flaps, skin looks like dough.
Yep. That's her.
So who was the toothless dude?
That we don't know. "guy weighing maybe 95 pounds...maybe 25, and apparently had no teeth" describes a lot of people here.
Quote from: LMNO, PhD (life continues) on April 02, 2012, 05:16:38 PM
I'm gonna have to remember the "FBI" trick next time I find myself in the Wild.
WARNING: The FBI doesn't like it when people lie about being them. So, um, don't do that. Or get caught. Whichever.
Quote from: Queen Gogira Pennyworth, BSW on April 02, 2012, 06:34:33 PM
Quote from: LMNO, PhD (life continues) on April 02, 2012, 05:16:38 PM
I'm gonna have to remember the "FBI" trick next time I find myself in the Wild.
WARNING: The FBI doesn't like it when people lie about being them. So, um, don't do that. Or get caught. Whichever.
Fuck the FBI. They don't like it when people have sex, for Chrissakes.
And in that situation, how would you get caught?
Hoover liked it when people had sex. A little too much. :horrormirth:
I guess I should stop bumperstickering cop cars, too.
Because the cops don't like that, much.
Dok,
Is reasonably sure LMNO knows that it's illegal to impersonate a federal law enforcement official.
NEVER stop bumperstickering cop cars. :lol:
I PosterGASMed this town a few times. People tear them down the minute they actually read them. They don't know what it's about, so it must be BADWRONG.
There's still Gorilla Glue and paper remnants on the telephone poles.
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 06:46:17 PM
NEVER stop bumperstickering cop cars. :lol:
It's amazing, what a little sticker saying OBEY can do.
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 06:46:17 PM
I PosterGASMed this town a few times. People tear them down the minute they actually read them. They don't know what it's about, so it must be BADWRONG.
There's still Gorilla Glue and paper remnants on the telephone poles.
Hit 'em some more. Cheapest way is to hit a copy shop once a year and sock away a couple of hundred copies on various themes.
Oooh, awesome...thanks! I was making xeroxes at ten cents a page. :x
The city just came and trimmed a tree away from the powerlines and fucked up my neighbor's internet somehow...had to go down the street to catch wifi from the school. It's like there's a law here that everybody has to be incompetent.
On the upside, somebody made this https://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=100003330068346
Friend requested. :lol:
Dok, permission to repost the OP with attribution?
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 09:17:44 PM
Dok, permission to repost the OP with attribution?
Go ahead.
Where? :lulz:
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:39:52 PM
I guess I should stop bumperstickering cop cars, too.
Because the cops don't like that, much.
Dok,
Is reasonably sure LMNO knows that it's illegal to impersonate a federal law enforcement official.
Sorry, I'm used to idiots who need to be told not to mail a box of dildos to the local cult for valentines day.
Well, that sounded like fun. It reminds me of some of the butt hole places I had the misfortune of staying in when I briefly worked in the oil industry. I made the mistake of going out in my civilian clothes while in one particularly odious country outpost, which immediately outed me as city folk. When I went to the local Co-op to buy a notebook and some chips the suspicion was palpable. I remember the woman in front of me at the checkout line had forgotten her loyalty card at home so the cashier asked if she remembered her account number. 'Yeah, it's 34' she answered.
There was quite a bit of excitement that day as washed up Canadian classic rock icons Prism were playing in the local dive next to the motel I was staying at. I rebuffed my cretinous co-workers and hid in my room playing gameboy while they got wasted and rocked out to 'Spaceship Superstar', which I'm pretty sure the band played twice. Apparently I missed a great night- one of my co-workers almost got in a fight and another slept with one of the waitresses, whom he implied was a prostitute.
I think what makes it bad in Alberta is the amount of money floating through some of these places due to the oil industry. Hick locals and bored, overpaid grunts are a bad combination, considering the type of people drawn to that lifestyle are generally of questionable character. I did a summer between years in college but once I got out I never looked back. The money was not worth my sanity.
Quote from: Queen Gogira Pennyworth, BSW on April 03, 2012, 12:49:59 AM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:39:52 PM
I guess I should stop bumperstickering cop cars, too.
Because the cops don't like that, much.
Dok,
Is reasonably sure LMNO knows that it's illegal to impersonate a federal law enforcement official.
Sorry, I'm used to idiots who need to be told not to mail a box of dildos to the local cult for valentines day.
But that sounds like a grand idea. :?
Quote from: Guru Coyote on April 03, 2012, 01:16:08 AM
Quote from: Queen Gogira Pennyworth, BSW on April 03, 2012, 12:49:59 AM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:39:52 PM
I guess I should stop bumperstickering cop cars, too.
Because the cops don't like that, much.
Dok,
Is reasonably sure LMNO knows that it's illegal to impersonate a federal law enforcement official.
Sorry, I'm used to idiots who need to be told not to mail a box of dildos to the local cult for valentines day.
But that sounds like a grand idea. :?
IF said cult isn't full of sue-happy idiots who know where you live.
Quote from: Queen Gogira Pennyworth, BSW on April 03, 2012, 01:22:55 AM
Quote from: Guru Coyote on April 03, 2012, 01:16:08 AM
Quote from: Queen Gogira Pennyworth, BSW on April 03, 2012, 12:49:59 AM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:39:52 PM
I guess I should stop bumperstickering cop cars, too.
Because the cops don't like that, much.
Dok,
Is reasonably sure LMNO knows that it's illegal to impersonate a federal law enforcement official.
Sorry, I'm used to idiots who need to be told not to mail a box of dildos to the local cult for valentines day.
But that sounds like a grand idea. :?
IF said cult isn't full of sue-happy idiots who know where you live.
So you have "a friend" send it. That's what the fucking post office is for. :lulz:
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 03, 2012, 01:58:07 AM
Quote from: Queen Gogira Pennyworth, BSW on April 03, 2012, 01:22:55 AM
Quote from: Guru Coyote on April 03, 2012, 01:16:08 AM
Quote from: Queen Gogira Pennyworth, BSW on April 03, 2012, 12:49:59 AM
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 06:39:52 PM
I guess I should stop bumperstickering cop cars, too.
Because the cops don't like that, much.
Dok,
Is reasonably sure LMNO knows that it's illegal to impersonate a federal law enforcement official.
Sorry, I'm used to idiots who need to be told not to mail a box of dildos to the local cult for valentines day.
But that sounds like a grand idea. :?
IF said cult isn't full of sue-happy idiots who know where you live.
So you have "a friend" send it. That's what the fucking post office is for. :lulz:
Or use the To address as the Return address.
Coyote, used to get cards from his dad with the home address in both places. Dad used to be a long haul trucker.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 09:18:04 PM
Quote from: Anna Mae Bollocks on April 02, 2012, 09:17:44 PM
Dok, permission to repost the OP with attribution?
Go ahead.
Where? :lulz:
FACEBOOK! (https://www.facebook.com/note.php?saved&¬e_id=353912394661576#!/notes/stella-waldvogel/seguin-texas-on-a-saturday-night/353912394661576)
Thanks. :lulz:
Update: another Saturday night in Seguin ~ http://seguingazette.com/news/article_f7809790-b4b3-11e1-904d-001a4bcf887a.html?mode=story
We know that guy, he's my daughter's best friend's mom's ex-boyfriend. Of course the rumor going around town is that he was "cut in half".
LOL http://seguingazette.com/opinion/letters_to_editor/article_83982a4a-b0fe-11e1-a07a-0019bb2963f4.html
Quote
I'm planning a Peaceful Public Debate concerning the existence of God to take place on Sunday, June 17, at 3 p.m. at Central Park in Seguin.
I would like to extend an invitation to all atheist, evolutionist, skeptics, and humanist for a debate against me.
It is my intention to prove that
• God exists
• The only God is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob
• Jesus is the Son of God
• Salvation is only found in the name of Jesus.
The definition of prove according to Merriam-Webster's dictionary is to test the truth, validity, or genuineness of.
It is necessary to establish some rules to maintain order amongst speakers and to make sure the debate is as fair as possible.
Rule 1-No Cursing.
Rule 2-One speaker at a time,
Rule 3-No on site references (ex. Google, encyclopedias)
Rule 4-Respect for all.
You will be debating with me only. There will be others with me, but only to witness and film the experience.
I look forward to the establishment of Truth.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on April 02, 2012, 05:09:53 PM
A few weeks back, I went out to San Antonio on business. I had a bag of free time and an expense account, so I did some wandering around. The Alamo was a bit of a let down, aside from the crazy preachers in the plaza out front. Mike (not Engineer Mike), Jeff, and I stopped to listen to one, and he became flustered. It was kind of neat, actually, and we pulled for him, like we'd pull for a first time stand up comic with a bad case of stage fright.
Then I made the mistake of visiting Stella, out in Seguin. Stella wasn't the problem...On the contrary, she and her daughter made me feel very welcome. The problem was the town itself.
On Saturday, Stella and I went to get some coffee at about 2PM. As we pulled up to the coffee shop, we saw a small group of teabagger-esque protestors holding up signs. We couldn't read the signs, because they were either really tiny, or - in one case - done with all the letters colored differently, on the back of real estate signs they had stolen.
I am annoyed by bad propaganda, so I pulled forward 3 spaces along the curb, both to read the sign, and to annoy the fat lady with the sour face that was holding the offending sign. The sign read "WIGGENS MUST GO"...Apparently, Wiggins is a judge there, and he got caught dealing pot. Being a typical small town, the police refused to do anything about it. I found out later that they were playing jurisdiction games to try to make the problem go away.
The lady, upon being blocked, shot Stella a nasty look, and then moved to the next block. We had a good time making fun of them while we drank our coffee...The coffee shop owner was giggling while we did so, but the other patrons kept giving us sour looks.
There was NOTHING ELSE TO DO in that town...So we wound up going to the bar a little early for Saint Patrick's Day. Outside the bar were a bunch of rusty cars and pickups, each with a confederate flag. One nice, new Avalanche was also out front, with the infamous "re-nig" bumpersticker on it. I was clearly in the Yahoo Nation, and I could tell that things were going to go downhill fast.
Inside, there were a half-dozen rednecks at the bar, and an older guy wearing expensive - by Seguin's standards - clothes. He was apparently the owner of the Avalanche. He was about 60...But if the girl sitting on his lap swapping spit with him was 18, I will kiss my own ass.
The bartender was a young Hispanic lady with a ridiculous leprechaun hat and a smile stapled to her face. She was clearly not enjoying the holiday. I ordered a Sprite for myself and a Shiner Boch for Stella, and then spoke to the bartender.
"You don't LOOK Irish."
"Heh. My boss made me wear this damn thing."
"Is HE Irish?"
"No. He's as German as everyone else in this fucked up town."
She was giving me the stink eye. I think she smelled cop, and apparently the town was waiting for out of town cops to come investigate Judge Wiggins (Judging from the news online, they're still waiting).
"Well, tell your boss that St Patrick's Day is no excuse for wandering around being Irish all day."
She laughed, and went to serve one of the rednecks down the bar.
Stella and I sat there for a while, making fun of Texas, the Alamo, and Seguin. I named all the rednecks, as each one exemplified a different type of redneck. The fat one was Bubba, the guy trying to hide his lack of chin with a scraggly beard was Cletus, etc. The locals that heard us didn't look happy about our behavior, but I think the cop thing kept them from giving us a proper Texas "welcome".
After a time, I went to take a piss. The men's room was a stall, a trough, and also the back door to the bar. While I was pissing, two ladies of Japanese descent walked through the backdoor, right past me, and into the bar. I'm telling you, this place OOZED class. Above the trough, some confused yahoo had written "Liberal faggots shood (sic) suck my cock."
When I came back out, the mood had turned even uglier. The Japanese ladies had decided, it seemed, to sit at Someone's Chosen Table. The man was telling them that this was his traditional table, and the Japanese ladies were explaining that they couldn't give two fucks about his traditions. Strangely enough, the man backed down and sat at the next table, sulking at them, much to their amusement.
Stella and I continued talking shit until we got bored, and then decided to whip around to the park, where there was supposedly some kind of party going on. There was, but everyone there was in their 20s, so we sat in a pavilion a few hundred feet away and smoked & joked for a while.
The park, incidentally, contains the town's sewer treatment plant. Right next to the fence surrounding the plant was the bathroom...One of those hideous cinderblock blockhouse-type bathrooms. We both had to piss like racehorses, but I dreaded the bathroom. You could smell it from a hundred feet away.
But what choice did we have? She went around to the women's side, and I went in the men's entrance. I looked down in the urinal as I began to piss, and saw a pair of leopard-print women's panties wadded up in the bottom. This added the perfect amount of sleaze; it sort of told all of Seguin's pathetic story to me...Failure and low-rent romance, in a town that empties itself of Black people a half hour before dusk.
When I came out, Stella was still in the bathroom, so I waited on the lawn beside the service road. A few seconds later, a pickup truck with a lift kit and two chinless wonders roared up. The yahoo in the passenger seat eyeballed me, sizing me up for a stomping. A strange face in a small town is fodder for that sort of thing, especially in a drunken Texas backwater.
He belched, and then said "Who the hell'r YEW?"
I glared at him and said, "FBI. Is something wrong?"
The yahoos eyes got big, and they roared off. Thanks again, Judge Wiggins.
Stella came out a moment later, and I drove her home. I dropped her off near her house, and then went up to the Texas Cooler on the corner to get a pack of smokes. There was nobody at the counter, but I heard what was apparently a little on-the-job loving coming from behind a cubicle-style partition at the back. I loudly cleared my throat, and I heard some frantic whispering behind the partition.
A moment or so later, a woman weighing at least 300 pounds waddled out and sold me two packs of smokes. As I was leaving, I saw a guy weighing maybe 95 pounds standing next to the screen in his underwear, looking at me. The woman was probably in her 50s, the guy was maybe 25, and apparently had no teeth. I was overcome with loathing, for reasons that I can't really explain to anyone who has never been to small town Texas.
I calmly got into my rental car, and then screeched out of the parking lot. Although I hate machines that talk to people, I engaged the GPS...I was NOT getting lost in this creepy fucking town. I hit the city limits doing 70MPH, and jammed onto the highway, accelerating up to 90 or so, dodging drunks, heading back to the relatively civilized San Antonio, where people at least have the decency to keep all their chromosomes in the right order.
None of this really does justice to the hopeless squalor that is Seguin. It's everything that's wrong with rural America. It's the reality behind the myth of "small town living". Small towns aren't "wholesome", they are horrible pits full of crime, alcoholism, and drug abuse. You can't leave anything around, or it's gone. The people are bored, mean drunks who will stomp you for any reason or no reason at all, if they think they can get away with it.
They are the people of the flattened DNA helix. We must leave them behind, if there is to be any hope at all for our species.
Okay for now,
Dok
What a great post, Dok! And it's so true of small town Texas. I thought crap like that only happened in a stretch of land I hate here (that starts just south of Dallas and doesn't end until you pass Waco). I once had a cop give me the ol' "never come back here" threat and the "we don't like outsiders here" line near Waxahachie. But it sounds like that's common place everywhere in rural Texas.
A long time ago, I gave myself a little rule to live by. One of the very few I have. It's "never stop in a small town here (Texas) for anything other than gas." I refuse to spend a significant amount of time anywhere in Texas unless it's Dallas, Austin, San Antonio, or Houston. Looking back, that might be the best rule I've ever come up with.
Quote from: TEXAS FAIRIES FOR ALL YOU SPAGS on June 13, 2012, 07:40:36 AM
Update: another Saturday night in Seguin ~ http://seguingazette.com/news/article_f7809790-b4b3-11e1-904d-001a4bcf887a.html?mode=story
We know that guy, he's my daughter's best friend's mom's ex-boyfriend. Of course the rumor going around town is that he was "cut in half".
Oh, Seguin! :lulz:
I need to look at a map, in order to determine whether I have or have not been through Seguin. It sounds familiar, but that could just be from hearing about it from you.
Quote from: Aucoq on June 13, 2012, 08:57:38 AM
What a great post, Dok! And it's so true of small town Texas. I thought crap like that only happened in a stretch of land I hate here (that starts just south of Dallas and doesn't end until you pass Waco). I once had a cop give me the ol' "never come back here" threat and the "we don't like outsiders here" line near Waxahachie. But it sounds like that's common place everywhere in rural Texas.
I got pulled over with some friends once in my hometown (Columbus, TX) and got the "never come back" threat.
It was a new cop (Columbus was always getting new cops, usually the ones other towns decided they didn't want) and the irony was that we all lived there, we'd all grown up there and one guy owned a home there. :lol:
QuoteA long time ago, I gave myself a little rule to live by. One of the very few I have. It's "never stop in a small town here (Texas) for anything other than gas." I refuse to spend a significant amount of time anywhere in Texas unless it's Dallas, Austin, San Antonio, or Houston. Looking back, that might be the best rule I've ever come up with.
Scratch Dallas, SA and
especially Houston. Houston made of a bunch of small towns crammed together and fed on steriods, bath salts and hate.
Quote from: PROFOUNDLY RETARDED CHARLIE MANSON on June 13, 2012, 09:03:00 AM
Quote from: TEXAS FAIRIES FOR ALL YOU SPAGS on June 13, 2012, 07:40:36 AM
Update: another Saturday night in Seguin ~ http://seguingazette.com/news/article_f7809790-b4b3-11e1-904d-001a4bcf887a.html?mode=story
We know that guy, he's my daughter's best friend's mom's ex-boyfriend. Of course the rumor going around town is that he was "cut in half".
Oh, Seguin! :lulz:
I need to look at a map, in order to determine whether I have or have not been through Seguin. It sounds familiar, but that could just be from hearing about it from you.
It might sound familiar because every single small town in Texas is JUST LIKE THAT.