![]() Happy Friday everyone! We’re back live! Welcome to Oklahoma…where we’re all going to die! The first winter storm of this winter (fall) is nearly upon us and the sheer volume of shrill panic being spewed forth by the media is reaching an apocalyptic level heretofore unknown. First, of all we here at The Compound will likely not see anything. The forecasts now have this monster (that the weatherguessers now say isn’t so much a monster anymore) moving south of us. But with the storm not turning into the beast that the “computer models” first predicted, news producers have taken matters out of the hands of the weatherguessers and put it in the hands of newscasters who are running interviews with random garage mechanics about the winter weather kit that you should include in your car, a common ingredient of which is a chocolate bar. Really, a chocolate bar? Suppose you could put the said choco bar beneath your tire for traction. Then there’s video of empty store shelves with maybe a loaf or two of bread on a shelf. Curiously, there doesn’t seem to be anyone else in the background shot of that footage. Gee, wonder if some overzealous producer had his/her crew clear the shelves for the dire report? Sorry, my cynicism is showing. Let me zip that back up. For those of you dedicated multitude (all three or four of you) who follow this blog with some regularity, I am happy to report that I passed my stress test yesterday with flying colors. The nurse who called me yesterday informed me that there is nothing wrong with my heart and I have a very strong heart muscle. See…all that clean living I do has paid off! Let that be an example to the youth! Actually, after receiving the call from the heart doc’s office yesterday I ran out and found the greasiest ribs money could buy and savored each one. <burp> Glad that’s behind me. On to bigger and better things, I reckon. Take for instance, the case of the distracted landscaper and his altogether willing accomplice co-worker in Connecticut who…well, wait a second. I need to set the stage here. Okay, all of you who were listening to music in the late 1980’s please raise your hand. Hmmm, seems to be a few of you who didn’t die of airway constriction from too much nose candy or froze to death wearing a beige linen suit as you raced around town in a Lamborghini that no one could figure out how you paid for. The music of the 80’s kind of sucked. Oh, sure, there were gems. There was the Talking Heads, (maybe) The Cars, and a few others early on, but then things began descending into chaos when it came to rock bands. There was the Led Zeppelin rip-off Whitesnake…the anti-ha band, Hell Toupee…and, of course, Def Leppard. For purposes of this post, we’ll focus on Def Leppard, the band with the near-naked drummer with one arm (that was the most interesting thing about the band). Sometime in ’88 or ’89 – remember, I was always living a clean life, so things then are a blur – DL issued a tune called, “Pour Your Sugar on Me” a song filled with lurid lyrics and an oddly sensual beat. The only thing good that came from the late-80’s was the emergence of Grunge…the LAST GREAT ERA (says me) of rock that lasted well into the 90’s. But, more on that at some later date… Why am I bringing up ghosts of overly commercial 80’s music now? Well, it sets the stage for today’s people-being-bad post…aka, the landscapers in Connecticut (remember them?). So, this 52-year-old landscaper (we’ll call him Sticky Buns) is working a job and decides he needs to take a break. He enters the home of the client for whom they’re doing the work. After some time, his partner on the job, a 48-year-old female co-worker (we’ll call her Hot2Pot) begins to wonder what happened to Sticky Buns. She enters the home and discovers Mr. Buns is watching porn and has slathered his naked body (hopefully he washed his hands first) in maple syrup. Song break…"I’m hot and sticky sweet from head down to my feet, yeah!” Ms. 2Pot later told police that she became irretrievably turned on by the sight of Buns slathered in syrup and asked to “join him” on his break. I know, I know, sounds like plot line for a bad 70’s skin flick, but there you have it. Love and/or lust ensued. Soon some blueberry jelly was added to the mix. It was a dentist’s wet dream, I’m telling you! Once the break was over, the two (presumably) showered and went back to work. But then, Sticky was found sharing a video of the encounter with his pals down at the local bar that he had surreptitiously recorded. And of course, Hot2Pot learns of said video and goes to the police telling them that the video was made without her consent and she wants to press charges. The alleged police go to Sticky and insist that he delete the video from his phone. Sticky refuses to do so (way to “stick” to your values Sticky) and is consequently arrested on a charge of voyeurism. He’s out of jail now on a $50,000 bond, awaiting trial. Nowhere in the report of this was there any mention of whether the homeowners were upset over the shenanigans by landscaping professionals inside their home or the apparent misappropriation of syrup and blueberry jelly. Interesting, no? That is all!
Dee
12/7/2018 09:03:21 am
Congratulations on passing your stress test--all of that studying paid off! Funny that you mention slurping down the greasy ribs as I was worrying that you would be told to cease and desist your renown outdoor cooking, but fire up the smoker and celebrate!
Mr. Robin
12/7/2018 09:25:24 am
Haha...oh, it's coming! Ribfest 2019 we're tentatively calling it! Comments are closed.
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