11 August 2008

Not Remembering


Some old photographs were passed around as we worked on the beer, wine and whisky. Sometimes I think everybody still looks much like they did decades ago but we do not. We are all starting to look more and more like Willie Nelson and less and less like Sid Vicious.

There were several photos of a titty show at a big bike show in
Motherfucking, Alberta. To give you an idea of how old the photos were, all the titties were real. I have nothing against the global titties doctors install in lots of women theses days but they cannot beat the real thing.

"You remember that night at the titty show Beer?" asked Curly as he emptied yet another beer into his thick beard.

"No."

"Me neither."

Not remembering a fucking thing the next day was our specialty in those days.

"Good thing we took some fucking pictures."

"Actually there is one thing I remember after all these years."

"What's that?"

"When we rolled into Motherfucking we could not find our motel because we were too shitfaced so we just parked our bikes in a parking lot and passed out until the cops woke us up the next morning."

"Hey, I do remember that too. We passed out half a block from the cop shop. The fucking cops were asking us if we had rolled into their redneck town to meet up with the Grim Reapers at the bike show. They figured our packs were full of dope but they could not think of a good reason to search us that morning."

"Some of those pigs have got good instincts."

"When you expect the worst out of people it is surprising how often you are right on the fucking money."

"I think they were ready to roust us anyway until one of the fat fuckers spotted the portrait of Anne Murray you had painted on your tank. He scratched his head so hard after he saw that his skull started bleeding."

"Some people put their faith in the Virgin Mary. I put mine in Canada's Sweetheart."

4 comments:

Jon said...

I used to call people up on Sunday and apologize. "For what?" they would ask me.

"I don't know, but I have a bad hangover and I remember seeing you. After that I don't remember anything, so I figure I owe you an apology for something."

"Don't worry about it Jon. You wanna go out for some beers?"

"Yeah, sure."

ib said...

Beer, it is high time you got involved in the editing of one of those pocketbook instant translation numbers.

Japanese tourist walks up to redneck cop and flicks through the pages of his phrase-book.

"Excuse me, mister motherfucker. How the fuck do you get to motherfucker, motherfucker ?"

Camera slow pans to broken teeth in gutter.

Jon said...

Few things are funnier than drunken japanese tourists trying to curse in English. Seriously. Well, not, you know, seriously, but like, for real.

Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

At the very least I ought to be selling t-shirts which proclaim, "I've been to Motherfucking, Alberta."