Our Special Room in Hell

‘Box and I already know where we are spending the afterlife. It’s a given. We both moved to southwest Florida to prepare. Why else would two fat guys go where it’s hot? I don’t have AC so that when I get there I can make the devil my bitch by complaining that it’s too cold.

“Ummm… Satan… can I have a sweater?”

Lately though, it seems we are on a mission to get our own room in Hell.

Yesterday we pulled one that even I was in awe of.

It seems M&M is training a new part time bartender. ‘Box and I decided that we would pull a practical joke on her. We stopped in for happy hour and set it all up. M&M prefaced the new gal to meet me by letting her know that I was deaf. (I am a little hard of hearing but not deaf yet… deft… absolutely) We got introduced as regulars and Big Mike “signed” me all the necessary info.

My new name was Doug.

Several other regulars at the bar played along. They may be stopping in at our private suite in Hades as well.

Is this wrong yet?

We had a little conversation, enough that she should remember me.

‘Box and I said our farewells and left M&M to sing our praises. Of course we headed to a different watering hole to tell our story of deviousness to others as we are proud of our slot in hell.

Quitney aka Triple Nipple just shook her head as she’s heard way too many of our schemes. Mouse and Spouse, our newest superheros in training, both loved the newest adventure…

RayRay, who may just be our afterlife roomie wasn’t working.

After an hour to change, shave, switch glasses and become a new person, ‘Box and I went back to the bar to re-introduce me as my identical twin brother Dave… who can hear perfectly. We told the new gal that Doug thought she was cute and wanted to ask her out. It’s a pity she’s married or the joke would go so much further.

I won about four bucks off ‘Box and M&M because they didn’t think I would go through with it. We are now betting on how long I can pull it off….

If you want in on it, the over/under is 6 months.

Take the over!

Next week she gets to meet our younger brother Steve...

who is blind.

After that it'll be our sister Cindy.

While we’re going down the path…here’s some more non pc drinks…

The Lindsey Lohan… a red headed slut with a shot of Coke.

The Iraq/Canadian/Irish car bomb… an Irish car bomb with a shot of tanker-eh?

The Nicole Brown… Maker’s Mark with OJ, a Schlitz, tomato juice and a slice of everything.

A Mick Jagger…. A Rolling Rock with Pucker

A Tonya Harding…. Canadian Club on ice

An Anna Nicole Smith…. Absolute Pear with a Valium

A John Belushi… A dead Guy Ale and BluesBerry Schnapps

Natalie Wood… Absolute Kurrant and a lifesaver

A Gynecologist… A Pabst and Smirnoff

Long Island Mr T… a regular iced tea with Goldschlager, Cuervo Gold and a Molsen Golden Ale.

A Mormon Popeye… Three Olives Vodka and a spinach leaf

Michael Jackson…. White Crème de Cacao in a sippy cup

A Pimpin’ Toby Keith… Whiskey (for my men) and beer (for my whoreses)

I’ll end now with a couple of beautiful stories…

Someone please tell me, is it just me? I swear this stuff doesn’t happen to normal people.

Story 1)

After a lengthy Parrothead club meeting, surrounded by beautiful GNO gals all night, the bartender sends me over a drink, bought by a group of gals across the way. The drink contains a business card. The card is for the Chrome Divas, a local Harley group of all women. We peppered the bartender to see which one actually sent the drink, since there were four of them and finally surmised our victim. I sent Jill (name not changed…not innocent) over to find out the story. I have to interject that Jill runs parties for adult toys and wanted to get in on the prospect.

So Jill bops over to explain that the guy they were sending the drink to was single but sitting with those two lovely women because one was his sister (WonderTwin) and the other was her friend (Jill…name not changed…blah blah innocent).

The women were confused….



The drink was for the guy sitting behind me.


In the Fungus dictionary see Ego Deflation. See also Erectile Dysfunction.

Story 2)

Not as funny… but funny to me.

Bowling alley…

I repeat…

BOWLING ALLEY…

Just turned 21.

Military ID.

Birthday was 3 days ago.

Orders a Glenfiddich.

I reiterate….

Bowling Alley.

Proceeds to get pissed off because the Alley has no single malt scotches.

Just turned 21 in a bowling alley ordering fine scotch and mad because they don’t have it.

Question…

this is funny to others, right?

Happy hour at our room in Hell is 3-6. It’s two for one…

That means you get both of us for the price of one.

Bring a jacket.