---Doc (or words to that effect)
10/18/08
Or so said our fearless leader, Doc, as we retired to the Lodge here at th' Flann-Padd after a solid day of spanking the house back into order. Yes, good and gentle readers, this is actually Your Captain speaking, Ergo Jinglebollocks. I'm here on assignment, actually; the first and foremost was a sort of "spring cleaning" to assist Flann and Doc with getting their house in order to seal up for the winter. After Doc's recent stint in the hosptial, staring into Death's beady lil' eyes, he discovered that the usual domestic undertakings were OVERtaking him. Said he, "after I got back, it was about all I could do just to load the dishwasher. Humpin' up n' down the stairs to tackle laundry just seemed right out."
So, having a day free, and having previously been domesticated, I offered up my cleaning skills and assisted Flann and Doc in Hoovering carpets, chugging through laundry, de-crudding toilet bowls and mopping floors. "When you're done with that," said Doc to me as I sat on their bed, colouring a picture with their eldest, Ms. R., "I have another chore for you."
I was thinking he was referring to the moving of the large television out of the back bedroom and into the living room, but I was to be pleasantly surprised. "I need you to help me write a beer review," said he.
Now, a brief bit of history first for our new readers. About 2 or so years ago, *I* actually started SZ:tCoB, along with about 4 other bloggs. I was going to Sea World in Orlando every other month, and as they are owned by the Budweiser people, I got a chance to try out a bunch of different beers, albeit mostly Bud products. It was summertime and th' livin' was easy (albeit humid). I drank lots and lots of free beer at the Hospitality Center and would return home to scribble up a review of what I'd tried.
In time, though, funds began to run low and I wasn't able to PURCHASE a helluva lotta beer, and this blog began to wobble and topple under it's own weight, like an elephant with a bum knee. I thought of cancelling it altogether-- I didn't have a lot of readers anyhow, when it suddenly hit me like stepping on a rake and getting a thwack 'tween the eyes, to turn the blog o'er to Doc!! I had one, Spooky had one, Flann had one, but ol' Doc, who had the heart an' soul of a master storyteller, did NOT have a blog.
I turned over ownership from Florida and things have been marvelous e'er since.
The difficulty has been that o'er the last 6-8 months or so, BOTH Doc and Flann have attempted to get Blogger to accept me as a contributing author to SC:tCoB, but the damned thing just won't do it-- anyone who's attempted to get anywhere with the massively useless Help Pages knows what I'm talking about. SO, since I'm already HERE, it made the most sense for me to plop down in the Barber's Chair (Best Seat in Th' House) and write.
A look of minor confusion comes over Ergo's face. he turns his head and says, "hey, Doc? What the hell AM I writing about, again?"
Doc, kneeling down at the mini-fridge, looks o'er at Ergo at the PC. "We're writing a beer review. You know, Original Charter" and all that stuff..."
"Right!" says Ergo, turning to the PC and frowning. "Uh... What is it again??"
Doc comes to sit down on the barstool next to the barber chair. "It's Michelob AmberBock."
"Right!" Hmmm... how should we do this... he thinks... got it!!
EJ: OK, so how should we start this?
DOC: Well, you're doing the writing, I'm just offering up a few thoughts. For starters, it's the name. Sure, it's AMBER but it's not bocky enough. No goats in there. How long was your mother a Rockette?
EJ: Wha?
DOC: sorry, you're writing. I'm just trying to distract you. Did I tell you I have dimples on my butt?? The light has to be right, but I do have dimples on my butt. I showed them to Spooky once, when she was driving behind me and Flann one time.
EJ: ::type, type, type::
DOC: It was rush hour traffic, too. I think there was a car with a load of kids behind us, too!! Well, what can ya' do?? They shoulda' gotten on the road 5 minutes later.
EJ: ::type, type, type:: [pause] You know, I was going to say something about how dissapointed I was that the bottle doesn't look anything like it did in the 70's when I was a kid. but somehow saying THAT seems so dull now...
::creeeeaaak!!:: The door opens and Spooky enters.
DOC: Hello, dear! By the way, I've fed him, bathed him and gave him new clothes and few beers. I can't promise what condition I'm returning him to you in.
SPOOKY MAGOO: when he was telling you this story of how he was displaying his ass, how a gar full of VERY young children pulled up next to him and gave him the most dirty, filthy look?
EJ: ::type, type, type::
SM: aaand did he tell you that ERR was driving the car I was in and how he was laughing so hard he almost lost control of the car and we were weaving all over the road?? Doc's ass almost caused us to die in a firey cataclysim...
DOC: my ass... the Fifth Horsemen of the Apocolypse
EJ: ::type, type, type::
DOC: well, you should go in the house, say hello to Flannery, doff your clothes and change into your bathing suit, the hottub awaits!!
SM: Oooooh, no-- I've still got homework to do. I've been reading history all day long and I've still got another report to write.
DOC: well, I tell you what; in your report cite a reference from a fisherman named Mancenello. He flourished around 1540 and he and all the populace were suffering from crippling taxes. the king passes a new tax on all fruit-- essentially the food of the poor. Mancenello was a fisherman, and he stood up in the marketplace and spoke and actually got everyone to overthrow the goverment! But it's a relatively bloodless overthrow: they take back their property and whatnot, and things progress to the point that the POPE steps in and serves as a mediator between the government and Mancenello
EJ: ::type, type, type::
DOC: after this goes on, wine is served, but at some point Mancenello falls over and expires: someone had poisioned his wine. The government quells the rebellion and more-or-less says that they'll follow along, but 2 days later they take Mancello's body and draw and quarter it, putting his head on a pike at the city's gates. The people gather up Mancenello's body parts and bright them out and buried them. But, all of this happened because Mancelleo, this uneducated fisherman, rallied the people behind him against a government that was unfairly taxing the populace.
SM: wow...
DOC: throw it in as a footnote. It should get you an A.
SM: noooo, we're not concentrating on that part of the world. I've been reading about some other stuff.
DOC: can i offer you a seat?
SM: no, I'm waiting for him to get done. i gotta get home soon.
EJ: ::type, type, type:: Oh, wait! You mean ME!! You're waiting for ME!
But how was the beer?
ReplyDeleteAfter all of that, I still have no desire to try that beer.
ReplyDeleteI fear that my head might wind up on a pike.
This post is way to long for me at the moment. Must return later
ReplyDelete#1
The only line of this that I'm am willing to own up to is, "my ass... the Fifth Horsemen of the Apocolypse."
ReplyDeleteEverything else is pure fabrication.
Doc
So did ya show him the dimples on yer ass?
ReplyDeleteAnd yeah....what flannery said....how was the beer??
peace
#2
Hey, I was perfectly in control of my own car. It was the SUV clown-packed with children that almost swerved into the fuel tanker.
ReplyDeleteThe beer was good, and while it lived up the promise of being amber it fell through in the bock department. Bock should be a strong flavored beer that tends to have a little bit more alcohol, but this was typical watered-down domestic American beer. Not bad really, but certainly not the Bock the label promised. The Bock was bunk.
ReplyDeleteDoc
DON'T BLAME ME, I'm only the transcriptionist!!
ReplyDeleteOK, maybe we'll be better off next time...