Mud & Fruit
Dear Cuz,
This past Wednesday, being the third Wednesday of the new month, was the regular meeting of the 'Fline Skwirls' motorcycle club. As per usual, my identical third cousin, Arthur 'Don't Call Me Art' Dekko, and I were the only attendees present at the time. The other members, Natasha, Rocky and RoD were conspicuously off somewhere else. I read the minute-- I call it a minute as that's all the time it took-- from the last meeting and we got down to new business of which there was none. Arthur took the floor and gave a short speech on the importance of Frog Togs being tied on the bike when participating in future outings as we have been soaked three times in the same number of days even though it has rained not a dipperful here at the old Stonebroke Non-Profit Fireant and Rodent Ranch out here in New Monia, the cultural hub of the Piney Woods of the southeasterly section of Texas.
Just yesterday we got hammered with a tumultuous amount of precipitation on our ride up to Plump Grove, where the girls like their biscuits with extra gravy, and had to stand on the front porch of the First Third Baptist Church until the cloudiness passed away. The Tuesday evening congregation was not ecstatic with the mud puddles we left on the porch but treated us in a Christian manner with only a slight muttering I took as a prayer for our salvation under their collective breaths. We left a dollar for the tip jar as a token of thankfulness for the temporary shelter then accidentally splashed more mud on the pastor's white Cadillac as we were leaving; lots of puddles out there in Plump Grove.
After I had finished writing down the minute I motioned to adjourn and the motion passed. Arthur broke out some kind of week old tea biscuits he got from his friend over in the bakery department at the H.E.B. in downtown Fairy Butte, our high school sports rivals. Incidentally, this will be the last of that as the store will permanently close as of Friday. Arthur's attitude is 'good riddance' as they, some while back, discontinued stocking his favorite sleeping pills, Goodart's Peanut Patties. As I washed down the tea biscuits with two fingers of Ezra --measured from the tips to the knuckles--I noticed Arthur mixing up a red drink of a sort to which I was unfamiliar. Queriously, I asked what it was called and Arthur said, "It's a Thanfranthithko"
"A what?" I re-queried.
"It's called a Thanfranthithko and it was invented by a bartender I met last week while I was working with the PC Cowboys over at the comedy club." Arthur stated. "Between sets I went over to this little club around the corner and met the nicest guy I've ever met in more than a good while. He took an instantaneous liking to me and made me his special, as he called it, 'concoction', and never charged me once. It's full of nutritious fruit, like cherries and pineapples and limes and tastes wonderful," he added. "He also shared my interest in wrestling and even showed me a few new holds."
I was a little suspicious by then and asked him what the bartender's name was.
"Louith." Arthur said.
"Are you sure it wasn't Louis?" I asked.
Arthur thought for a minute and said, "No, I'm sure he said Louith."
Arthur tried to show me some of the holds that "Louith" had taught him and I told him I thought they were illegal as I have never observed them used by The Undertaker or Hulk Hogan or any of those types of wrestler guys then advised him not to try those holds on anyone else as I am positively sure they would not be as appreciated by anyone other than himself. We finished up the tea biscuits and our respective drinks in relative silence, cleaned the mud off our scooters and shut down the clubhouse. I won't be wrestling with Arthur for a while.
Your Loving Cousin,
Rev. Dr. Buck Stonebroke
Mud & Fruit
Dear Cuz,
This past Wednesday, being the third Wednesday of the new month, was the regular meeting of the 'Fline Skwirls' motorcycle club. As per usual, my identical third cousin, Arthur 'Don't Call Me Art' Dekko, and I were the only attendees present at the time. The other members, Natasha, Rocky and RoD were conspicuously off somewhere else. I read the minute-- I call it a minute as that's all the time it took-- from the last meeting and we got down to new business of which there was none. Arthur took the floor and gave a short speech on the importance of Frog Togs being tied on the bike when participating in future outings as we have been soaked three times in the same number of days even though it has rained not a dipperful here at the old Stonebroke Non-Profit Fireant and Rodent Ranch out here in New Monia, the cultural hub of the Piney Woods of the southeasterly section of Texas.
Just yesterday we got hammered with a tumultuous amount of precipitation on our ride up to Plump Grove, where the girls like their biscuits with extra gravy, and had to stand on the front porch of the First Third Baptist Church until the cloudiness passed away. The Tuesday evening congregation was not ecstatic with the mud puddles we left on the porch but treated us in a Christian manner with only a slight muttering I took as a prayer for our salvation under their collective breaths. We left a dollar for the tip jar as a token of thankfulness for the temporary shelter then accidentally splashed more mud on the pastor's white Cadillac as we were leaving; lots of puddles out there in Plump Grove.
After I had finished writing down the minute I motioned to adjourn and the motion passed. Arthur broke out some kind of week old tea biscuits he got from his friend over in the bakery department at the H.E.B. in downtown Fairy Butte, our high school sports rivals. Incidentally, this will be the last of that as the store will permanently close as of Friday. Arthur's attitude is 'good riddance' as they, some while back, discontinued stocking his favorite sleeping pills, Goodart's Peanut Patties. As I washed down the tea biscuits with two fingers of Ezra --measured from the tips to the knuckles--I noticed Arthur mixing up a red drink of a sort to which I was unfamiliar. Queriously, I asked what it was called and Arthur said, "It's a Thanfranthithko"
"A what?" I re-queried.
"It's called a Thanfranthithko and it was invented by a bartender I met last week while I was working with the PC Cowboys over at the comedy club." Arthur stated. "Between sets I went over to this little club around the corner and met the nicest guy I've ever met in more than a good while. He took an instantaneous liking to me and made me his special, as he called it, 'concoction', and never charged me once. It's full of nutritious fruit, like cherries and pineapples and limes and tastes wonderful," he added. "He also shared my interest in wrestling and even showed me a few new holds."
I was a little suspicious by then and asked him what the bartender's name was.
"Louith." Arthur said.
"Are you sure it wasn't Louis?" I asked.
Arthur thought for a minute and said, "No, I'm sure he said Louith."
Arthur tried to show me some of the holds that "Louith" had taught him and I told him I thought they were illegal as I have never observed them used by The Undertaker or Hulk Hogan or any of those types of wrestler guys then advised him not to try those holds on anyone else as I am positively sure they would not be as appreciated by anyone other than himself. We finished up the tea biscuits and our respective drinks in relative silence, cleaned the mud off our scooters and shut down the clubhouse. I won't be wrestling with Arthur for a while.
Your Loving Cousin,
Rev. Dr. Buck Stonebroke
Mud & Fruit
Dear Cuz,
This past Wednesday, being the third Wednesday of the new month, was the regular meeting of the 'Fline Skwirls' motorcycle club. As per usual, my identical third cousin, Arthur 'Don't Call Me Art' Dekko, and I were the only attendees present at the time. The other members, Natasha, Rocky and RoD were conspicuously off somewhere else. I read the minute-- I call it a minute as that's all the time it took-- from the last meeting and we got down to new business of which there was none. Arthur took the floor and gave a short speech on the importance of Frog Togs being tied on the bike when participating in future outings as we have been soaked three times in the same number of days even though it has rained not a dipperful here at the old Stonebroke Non-Profit Fireant and Rodent Ranch out here in New Monia, the cultural hub of the Piney Woods of the southeasterly section of Texas.
Just yesterday we got hammered with a tumultuous amount of precipitation on our ride up to Plump Grove, where the girls like their biscuits with extra gravy, and had to stand on the front porch of the First Third Baptist Church until the cloudiness passed away. The Tuesday evening congregation was not ecstatic with the mud puddles we left on the porch but treated us in a Christian manner with only a slight muttering I took as a prayer for our salvation under their collective breaths. We left a dollar for the tip jar as a token of thankfulness for the temporary shelter then accidentally splashed more mud on the pastor's white Cadillac as we were leaving; lots of puddles out there in Plump Grove.
After I had finished writing down the minute I motioned to adjourn and the motion passed. Arthur broke out some kind of week old tea biscuits he got from his friend over in the bakery department at the H.E.B. in downtown Fairy Butte, our high school sports rivals. Incidentally, this will be the last of that as the store will permanently close as of Friday. Arthur's attitude is 'good riddance' as they, some while back, discontinued stocking his favorite sleeping pills, Goodart's Peanut Patties. As I washed down the tea biscuits with two fingers of Ezra --measured from the tips to the knuckles--I noticed Arthur mixing up a red drink of a sort to which I was unfamiliar. Queriously, I asked what it was called and Arthur said, "It's a Thanfranthithko"
"A what?" I re-queried.
"It's called a Thanfranthithko and it was invented by a bartender I met last week while I was working with the PC Cowboys over at the comedy club." Arthur stated. "Between sets I went over to this little club around the corner and met the nicest guy I've ever met in more than a good while. He took an instantaneous liking to me and made me his special, as he called it, 'concoction', and never charged me once. It's full of nutritious fruit, like cherries and pineapples and limes and tastes wonderful," he added. "He also shared my interest in wrestling and even showed me a few new holds."
I was a little suspicious by then and asked him what the bartender's name was.
"Louith." Arthur said.
"Are you sure it wasn't Louis?" I asked.
Arthur thought for a minute and said, "No, I'm sure he said Louith."
Arthur tried to show me some of the holds that "Louith" had taught him and I told him I thought they were illegal as I have never observed them used by The Undertaker or Hulk Hogan or any of those types of wrestler guys then advised him not to try those holds on anyone else as I am positively sure they would not be as appreciated by anyone other than himself. We finished up the tea biscuits and our respective drinks in relative silence, cleaned the mud off our scooters and shut down the clubhouse. I won't be wrestling with Arthur for a while.
Your Loving Cousin,
Rev. Dr. Buck Stonebroke
Mud & Fruit
Dear Cuz,
This past Wednesday, being the third Wednesday of the new month, was the regular meeting of the 'Fline Skwirls' motorcycle club. As per usual, my identical third cousin, Arthur 'Don't Call Me Art' Dekko, and I were the only attendees present at the time. The other members, Natasha, Rocky and RoD were conspicuously off somewhere else. I read the minute-- I call it a minute as that's all the time it took-- from the last meeting and we got down to new business of which there was none. Arthur took the floor and gave a short speech on the importance of Frog Togs being tied on the bike when participating in future outings as we have been soaked three times in the same number of days even though it has rained not a dipperful here at the old Stonebroke Non-Profit Fireant and Rodent Ranch out here in New Monia, the cultural hub of the Piney Woods of the southeasterly section of Texas.
Just yesterday we got hammered with a tumultuous amount of precipitation on our ride up to Plump Grove, where the girls like their biscuits with extra gravy, and had to stand on the front porch of the First Third Baptist Church until the cloudiness passed away. The Tuesday evening congregation was not ecstatic with the mud puddles we left on the porch but treated us in a Christian manner with only a slight muttering I took as a prayer for our salvation under their collective breaths. We left a dollar for the tip jar as a token of thankfulness for the temporary shelter then accidentally splashed more mud on the pastor's white Cadillac as we were leaving; lots of puddles out there in Plump Grove.
After I had finished writing down the minute I motioned to adjourn and the motion passed. Arthur broke out some kind of week old tea biscuits he got from his friend over in the bakery department at the H.E.B. in downtown Fairy Butte, our high school sports rivals. Incidentally, this will be the last of that as the store will permanently close as of Friday. Arthur's attitude is 'good riddance' as they, some while back, discontinued stocking his favorite sleeping pills, Goodart's Peanut Patties. As I washed down the tea biscuits with two fingers of Ezra --measured from the tips to the knuckles--I noticed Arthur mixing up a red drink of a sort to which I was unfamiliar. Queriously, I asked what it was called and Arthur said, "It's a Thanfranthithko"
"A what?" I re-queried.
"It's called a Thanfranthithko and it was invented by a bartender I met last week while I was working with the PC Cowboys over at the comedy club." Arthur stated. "Between sets I went over to this little club around the corner and met the nicest guy I've ever met in more than a good while. He took an instantaneous liking to me and made me his special, as he called it, 'concoction', and never charged me once. It's full of nutritious fruit, like cherries and pineapples and limes and tastes wonderful," he added. "He also shared my interest in wrestling and even showed me a few new holds."
I was a little suspicious by then and asked him what the bartender's name was.
"Louith." Arthur said.
"Are you sure it wasn't Louis?" I asked.
Arthur thought for a minute and said, "No, I'm sure he said Louith."
Arthur tried to show me some of the holds that "Louith" had taught him and I told him I thought they were illegal as I have never observed them used by The Undertaker or Hulk Hogan or any of those types of wrestler guys then advised him not to try those holds on anyone else as I am positively sure they would not be as appreciated by anyone other than himself. We finished up the tea biscuits and our respective drinks in relative silence, cleaned the mud off our scooters and shut down the clubhouse. I won't be wrestling with Arthur for a while.
Your Loving Cousin,
Rev. Dr. Buck Stonebroke
Mud & Fruit
Dear Cuz,
This past Wednesday, being the third Wednesday of the new month, was the regular meeting of the 'Fline Skwirls' motorcycle club. As per usual, my identical third cousin, Arthur 'Don't Call Me Art' Dekko, and I were the only attendees present at the time. The other members, Natasha, Rocky and RoD were conspicuously off somewhere else. I read the minute-- I call it a minute as that's all the time it took-- from the last meeting and we got down to new business of which there was none. Arthur took the floor and gave a short speech on the importance of Frog Togs being tied on the bike when participating in future outings as we have been soaked three times in the same number of days even though it has rained not a dipperful here at the old Stonebroke Non-Profit Fireant and Rodent Ranch out here in New Monia, the cultural hub of the Piney Woods of the southeasterly section of Texas.
Just yesterday we got hammered with a tumultuous amount of precipitation on our ride up to Plump Grove, where the girls like their biscuits with extra gravy, and had to stand on the front porch of the First Third Baptist Church until the cloudiness passed away. The Tuesday evening congregation was not ecstatic with the mud puddles we left on the porch but treated us in a Christian manner with only a slight muttering I took as a prayer for our salvation under their collective breaths. We left a dollar for the tip jar as a token of thankfulness for the temporary shelter then accidentally splashed more mud on the pastor's white Cadillac as we were leaving; lots of puddles out there in Plump Grove.
After I had finished writing down the minute I motioned to adjourn and the motion passed. Arthur broke out some kind of week old tea biscuits he got from his friend over in the bakery department at the H.E.B. in downtown Fairy Butte, our high school sports rivals. Incidentally, this will be the last of that as the store will permanently close as of Friday. Arthur's attitude is 'good riddance' as they, some while back, discontinued stocking his favorite sleeping pills, Goodart's Peanut Patties. As I washed down the tea biscuits with two fingers of Ezra --measured from the tips to the knuckles--I noticed Arthur mixing up a red drink of a sort to which I was unfamiliar. Queriously, I asked what it was called and Arthur said, "It's a Thanfranthithko"
"A what?" I re-queried.
"It's called a Thanfranthithko and it was invented by a bartender I met last week while I was working with the PC Cowboys over at the comedy club." Arthur stated. "Between sets I went over to this little club around the corner and met the nicest guy I've ever met in more than a good while. He took an instantaneous liking to me and made me his special, as he called it, 'concoction', and never charged me once. It's full of nutritious fruit, like cherries and pineapples and limes and tastes wonderful," he added. "He also shared my interest in wrestling and even showed me a few new holds."
I was a little suspicious by then and asked him what the bartender's name was.
"Louith." Arthur said.
"Are you sure it wasn't Louis?" I asked.
Arthur thought for a minute and said, "No, I'm sure he said Louith."
Arthur tried to show me some of the holds that "Louith" had taught him and I told him I thought they were illegal as I have never observed them used by The Undertaker or Hulk Hogan or any of those types of wrestler guys then advised him not to try those holds on anyone else as I am positively sure they would not be as appreciated by anyone other than himself. We finished up the tea biscuits and our respective drinks in relative silence, cleaned the mud off our scooters and shut down the clubhouse. I won't be wrestling with Arthur for a while.
Your Loving Cousin,
Rev. Dr. Buck Stonebroke
