Gut Rumbles

October 31, 2003


Well I wasn't going to guest blog this week because I didn't want the True Believers Trolls to piss their panties like the last time, but it's Halloween, Acidman is in North Georgia while I'm stuck here in Jax with a couple of sweet Georgia-Florida tickets, and I have a horror story for you that takes place in those very North Georgia mountains.

Way back when, a friend and I skipped law classes on Halloween and left Atlanta for a Viewing of the Leaves. We headed northeast, and hit Helen and Brasstown Bald before jumping the border into North Carolina to get some cartons of cheap smokes in Murphy. Did I mention we were drinking? We were drinking. Heavily. Passing a bottle of Yukon Jack between us. Now I don't condone this sort of behavior, but my friend was a seasoned drinker and driver, and I was doing the lion's share of the drinking, anyway. I often do on these occasions.

After leaving Murphy we realized we weren't that far from Tennessee, so THAT had to be done. Then we headed back to Atlanta. We were passing through Ellijay about four o'clock, minding our manners and all the applicable laws, enjoying one of the most glorious autumn days I have ever witnessed, when the deputies pulled us over for the crime of Having Out Of County Plates. Chatham County, to be exact. A sin against nature in those parts. Apparently, the ONLY sin against nature in those parts.

If you've ever smelled Yukon Jack you know you can reek of that shit after walking by it in the liquor store. So they had their Boy, so to speak, and after jacking us up against the car, they took a few gratuitous swipes at my guy. Fortified as I was, I naturally came to his defense, fists a flying. Much pounding (on their part) later, I was hogtied in the back of a cruiser, headed to the hoosegow. The gaol. The Little Big House. Thrown in the drunk tank with some particularly unsavory fucks who had been beaten shitless by the White Man for who knows how many days, and God had answered their prayers by throwing two white punk asses right in with them.

I can be a persuasive talker when I have to be, even when in the bag, so there was no Brown-Eye Ballet that night, but it was nip and tuck for a while there. I thought I was going to have to sacrifice my buddy for the cause.

Did I mention I hadn't told my New Bride I was skipping class, much less going on a Joy Ride? Never mind. The Mayor came to visit us about eight, looking us over like trophy hogs. He looked just like Harry Truman. I told him as much, then explained my theory that Truman was a pindick who nuked Asians to make his pecker feel bigger. Then I demanded to know the judge's name. He said, quite simply, "Me". That's all. "Me". Ever have the feeling you've overextended yourself a little bit? Everybody got supper but me.

I finally got hold of another friend in Atlanta, and he and The Bride made the long trek up to Ellijay with copious amounts of Cash in Small Bills, we were sprung in the early AM, and followed to the edge of Gilmer County, where we were pulled over, bitched out, and promised eternal damnation and ass-rape should we ever cross that county line again.

I skipped my court date (disorderly conduct, public drunkenness, resisting arrest; they dropped assaulting an officer of the law because it was obvious who'd gotten the better of that little set-to) on advice of counsel. When you have a Decatur attorney with the first name of Casper, you heed his wisdom. Waited for skip tracers to track me down for two years.

About six years after this terrible misunderstanding the Sheriff, Mayor, and all the deputies got busted on federal RICO charges for shaking down semi-innocent punks like us, and they did Hard Time. But I still detoured around Gilmer County every time I'd go to the mountains. I finally checked my state police record last year. Clean. But I don't think I'll ever go to Ellijay again.

That's my Halloween story. No goblins, no ghosts, but aren't real live inbred mountain ghouls scarier anyway?

Posted by Guestblogger Velociman


Copyright 2000 by Ron Miller. All Rights Reserved.

1. You could get a simple license from the State for a nominal fee and only have to take a test that any idiot could pass. You'd only have to renew it every 10 years for 40 years and maybe retake the test if you move out of state.

2. You could kill and injure people with your gun while drunk and still have your lawyer get your gun back because you need it for work.

3. You'd have half the tax burden of the county and State dedicated to improving the shooting ranges and facilities. The public agrees this is never good enough to suit them and with all the gunowners from California moving in, the range capacity will never catch up. Lines at the range are always shown on TV with the newsies deploring the crowding.

4. You could carry in any State at any time because carry and possession of your gun is honored nationwide and is considered a basic American civil right.

5. You would see commercials on TV pushing the newest, latest guns which you could lease for just $25 per month subject to the fine print.

6. You could finance a fancier gun than you can really afford by taking a 5-year loan with approved credit.

7. You would have a gun safe built into every house. In the upscale houses you would have 3 gun safes. Inexpensive houses and mobile homes would just have a gunrack by the door.

8. You'd have gun storage lockers at the shopping mall in which to store your rifle while shopping. This in order to free your arms for packages. The convenience of the shopper is paramount.

9. You could buy ammunition at the 7-11. Full-service station means they'll reload your magazines for you.

10. The news would stop reporting gun accidents unless more than 10 children were killed at one time. Onesy-twosey would only be notable in small towns or if Princess Di's bodyguard shot her while aiming at paparazzi.

11. If the price of ammunition rose 20% the Federal Government would release war reserves of ammo to bring the price back down to the consumer's comfort level. Ammo would carry a 50% tax to finance public shooting ranges. Teapot Dome scandal would have been about a lead mine.

There's more--just follow the link.

posted by guest blogger shell

October 30, 2003

No way!

Yeah, like any of us are gonna post anything after all the bullshit abuse we took the last two times Rob went on vacation. Who needs that bullshit? So why did you stop by? You know he won't be back until next week.

October 27, 2003

time to go

I'm going to take a shower, get dressed and start loading my truck. I'll probably have some pictures and tall tales to share next Sunday, but I won't be blogging again until then.

Y'all take care.

You guest bloggers are still registered on my site, so if you want to drop by, feel free. MY door is always open.

I hope to see a lot of interesting people in Dahlonega, at Caruso's, at 3:00 PM this coming Saturday. I'll be there early, and you can recognize me by a red Georgia Bulldog hat and a scraggly gray silver goatee.

That's all, folks! I'm off to the rodeo.


Maybe I tip the way I do because I worked for a number of years around people who depended on tips for their living. Maybe I tip the way I do because a fool and his money are soon parted. The reason doesn't matter to me. I am generous with tips.

I agree with this post, but I also believe that poor service should be punished with a poor tip, or in extreme cases, no tip at all.

Servers, waitresses and bartenders have difficult jobs. They have to put up with whiners, complainers, bitches, bastards, drunks, fucktards, asswits and cheapskates. They are supposed to do it with a smile on their faces, too. It's tough work.

But when I order a drink in a bar, I expect my drink to be poured. I DON'T expect the bartender to get caught up in a cell phone conversation with his girlfriend and forget all about me. There went YOUR tip, butthead.

The same thing goes in a restaurant. I try always to be polite to servers. But if I catch the waitress and ask her for another glass of wine, please, and she gives me the witch face and hisses, "I'll get your wine when I get a chance! Can't you see that we're VERY BUSY tonight?" as she walks away, I'm not going to tip HER at all.

I pay for the service I receive. I thnk that's fair.

whoa!, part 2

This is just goddam sick!

"Chicken and Dicklings?" What is this world coming to?