 Geez…what a mess the world is in right now: O.J. is back among us; The Trump is tweeting more cryptic threats about blowing up someone…NoKo or Iran, it’s unclear…but someone – may – be going down; Harvey Weinstein’s lawyer quit though the bulk of Hollywood claims it’s all a smear campaign; did I mention that O.J. is back among us, okay good; still another hurricane is making landfall in the U.S.; the Sooners lost a game yesterday they should have easily won; the guitar player from the Lovin’ Spoonful was busted with child porn; you suppose The Trump will invite O.J. to play golf with him…eh, probably not; the white nationalists with their Home Depot tiki torches are back in Charlottesville; lunatic millionaires are shooting up music festivals; and…well, you get the picture…I did mention O.J. is out and moving around again, right?
But, I have no time to focus on any of that right now. The stage is set for a disaster here at The Compound, the likes of which were never imagined by Harvey Weinstein or acted by O.J. (he’s out now, you know) or presented in an OU playbook (their defense SUCKS). So, to bring you, the dedicated CCB reader (all four of you), up to date on the latest happenings here (cuz you don’t have enough to worry about)...the female geriatric army of spiritualists (hereafter Vintage Buick Princesses) arrived late Friday and immediately formed their vintage Buicks in a circle on the center lawn here at The Compound. They announced they were taking a defensive posture this time because of the mass of “humanity” they saw spread across the rest of the grounds. The Queen Bee among the group told me they felt they needed a place to fall back to just in case things get out of hand. This is The Compound. Everything gets out of hand. Constantly. Cousin Fred has dubbed their iron enclave Fort Apache. It prompted him to break out and don an old U.S. Cavalry costume he had hidden away for just such an occasion. Did I mention that said costume includes an authentic cavalry bugle? No? (sigh) Cousin Fred uses that now to blast out calls to the hordes here. Did I mention, hordes? Yeah, hordes. So beyond the Histrionic Historians, the Swarthy Texans, the Burning Man Refugees, and the Florida Gator Cult, we now have a pack of Soon-to-be-Former IRS Agents (they see the writing on the wall with The Trump), a herd of Rocky Mountain High Coloradans looking for a smoke shop (none here, this Oklahoma where we rely on the moronic state legislature to tell us what we should be doing since we’re all incapable of critical thought – that of course doesn’t take into account the pedophiles, perverts, and other bad elements among them), speaking of which there is also a huge body of fact finding moronic Oklahoma State Legislatures on a boondoggle here to learn from the “people” what we need and tell us about what a great job they’re doing in OKC. Oh, and there’s Cousin Fred. Blowing his F@#ing bugle at every opportunity! About the only time anything good happened on Saturday was when Friend Lamont from Western Arkansas showed driving a truck that was pulling a flatbed trailer with porta-potties. The law enforcement out on the road, seeing that they’re vastly outnumbered, apparently have called in reinforcements. There are cops from all over the state out there. They’re going to use this as a training exercise, me thinks. It won’t end well. So as the masses gathered yesterday and the Vintage Buick Princesses emerged from Fort Apache and began trying to restore order here at The Compound (they were beating the crap out of the miscreants [miscreants abound here] with their purses), I was beginning to think things couldn’t get any worse. Things did. And, no, O.J. didn’t show up…yet. Oklahoma City media sent the channel 4 and the channel 9 helicopters out here to get a view of the humanity squeezed onto The Compound. In the sky buzzing The Compound, we had channel 9’s SkyNews 9 HD (with Tornado Payne-in-the-Ass in the passenger seat, swearing he could see a wall cloud approaching from California out here – note: the sky was blue), along with channel 4’s Bob Moore Chopper 4 (with Hands Morgan in the passenger seat urging people to go south to get away from the impending storm – he was watching the video feed from channel 9). There were several near-mid-air collisions. Law enforcement on the road notified the FAA and NTSB to start en route…it was going to be a disaster! In the meantime, channel 5 was sending someone in an old pickup from OKC – they arrived early this morning. Channel 25 is still trying to figure out where Cosmic County is located. Finally, both helos set down in the north pastures and their respective pilots and passengers emerged, well one of the passengers. A fight ensued. Hands Morgan tried to remain in his seat. Tornado finally dragged him out with Morgan screaming…”…the teeth, don’t hurt my teeth…” Fortunately, law enforcement intervened. All hands were hauled to jail. The two helicopters remain in the north pasture. One of my dogs keeps running out there to pee on the landing skids. Things kind of settled back down here…well except for the unwashed hordes spread across The Compound and Cousin Fred blowing that F#@ing bugle. This morning he’s out on the road, blaring the mess call on the bugle and handing out donuts to the cops. Oh, the Wife, you ask? She’s up on the roof, cackling her fool head off, chain smoking filterless Pall-Malls, and swigging Old Crow rot gut whiskey. Where else would she be? Can’t wait for tonight when the real fun starts. That is all. Comments are closed.
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