That title is surely an attention getter if ever I did see one. By the way for the last week or so ever since I decided that I am from North Carolina you would do much better as far as understanding my nonsense if you read it in your mind as if you was also from North Carolina or any other state that refers to shopping carts as buggies. Just read it with a twang and we’re gonna get along just fine okay.
I ain’t really got much time for a post here right now being the urban jet setting pretty boy that I am but I feel its necessary to touch base with my constituents from time to time as a way of getting down into the trenches with y’all common folk. Y’uns is spectacular prized pupils of mine. The lesson that I am trying to teach has not been revealed to me as of yet but I’m sure it will be in time for all of us to get the necessary wisdom from that there lesson.
Actually this is a garbled attempt at sounding somehow outlandish when really and truly I am in a rush. I need to go meet up with my sister Theresa who has my driver’s license by 5pm at her place of gainful employment, I forgot the name of it but its over there up yonder somewhere in the vicinity of Lincoln Avenue and the 91 Freeway. She done told me that it was on the other side of McDonald’s which must be a blessing for anyone to be so honored to work nearby such a beautiful and wonderful company outlet as a franchisee of McDonald’s. I would love to work nearby McDonald’s and have the wonderful sensation of gaining a pound of rancid beef fat added to my svelte waistline each and everyday. After all, its a very family friendly and budget conscious place to eat. You know as well that McDonald’s corporate headquarters has made it their mission in 2011 for all of its many franchises to express individuality and originality with their menu options.
For instance in Fontana, California, the McDonald’s franchisee up there has renamed his restaurant McTucky’s after their adopted home state of Kentucky. They offer such delectable delights as the McSwamp Chicken Tenderloin sandwich in honor of the great state of Alabama (Roll Tide!!). Does anyone know what a swamp chicken is by the way? I coined the phrase myself of course one day last week in a state of extreme delirium when I was visited by an apparition of a redneck militia soldier who rolled up on me in his buggy while I was playing Cleopatra Keno over at Pechanga Casino.
I had been at the same machine for 16 days you see, and I felt like I needed dialysis treatment because my kidneys had been assaulted by nothing but Pepsis as way of nutrition the entire marathon session. When you are sitting at a slot machine which you don’t want to give up because its already taken your firstborn child, your left testicle, 75% of your remaining life force and of course the contents of your wallet, all available credit cards and a good deal of your dignity (due to having been forced to prostitute yourself in the high limits bathrooms to creepy Asian matrons with breath that smells like Pork Kung Pao dipped in Ponzu Sauce and served with fresh garlic) it gets kinda hard to remember the basic fundamentals of healthy human living like eating food, taking showers and brushing your teeth (also known as gumming your hushpuppies, if you are from Missouri, the Buggy State).
It never fails you see, when you have thrown the equivalent of a brand new Chevrolet Suburban into a computerized personal one armed robbery facilitator, or “slot machine”, and you get up out of frustration to maybe clear your head, brush your nasty ass teeth and have a smoke while maybe even taking a look at the sun for the first time in forever, that some old ass asian water buffalo will saunter up and immediately hit the progressive jackpot on your untended machine. If you have ever gone through such a miserable and incomprehensibly demoralizing (sound familiar 12 steppers?) nightmare as I have many times you know what I’m talking about. Its painful hombre. Very very painful.
In an effort to ensure that such a horrible outcome does not repeat itself, most compulsively degenerate morons who gamble, such as myself, have taken certain steps, which when used in conjunction with a lobotomy, have been shown to be of assistance in dealing with this issue. One of these steps is known as Transcendental Medication and is a method similar to the “meditation” practiced by Buddhists and New Age Flower Children for years now. Many of the processes involved with TM as I’ll call it are the same only different as its older, better, less stupid brother, Meditation. Both involve wiping the psyche clear of mental debris that maybe inhibiting the swamp also known as your mind and preventing it from processing life through a more realistic and less expensive filter then the constantly failing “Angry and Disgruntled Degenerate Slot Player” most of the people that benefit from TM have historically chosen.
You are probably asking yourself what any of this slick jargon has to do with the topic you are here to learn more about. That topic of course is the history of the Swamp Chicken which no doubt has left you in a state of nervous anticipation, bordering on frenzied manic hysteria while you have been nervously counting down the hours until which time I deemed appropriate to share with you, gentle reader. To be honest, I’m somewhat lost myself on what TM has to do with a swamp chicken. The thing is, I figure it would be a waste to waste (is that even proper grammar?) my elegantly crafted lines of pure horse manure that I’ve typed so far so (again….proper grammar?) I’m just going to have to continue bluffing at the connection between the two totally unrelated and actually non exsitent subjects.
I figure its easier to just continue double barreling y’all with blasts of bullshit that have no roots in reality rather then suck it up, admit to God, myself and all of the other human beings the exact nature of my “lack of anything meaningful to share” and start over or perhaps even scrap the whole ridiculous idea of writing a post today. Hopefully, I can continue to baffle and amaze both of us with this boisterous, bat shit bending banter and somehow pull it all together at the end with some sort of fairy tale like save while managing to sound humble, enthusiastic and pleasantly self effacing at the same time as appearing to be competent and genuine.
I am thinking that maybe this is a bit much to have on my plate today but you know what “they” say…(throw in some tired cliche about never losing sight of your dreams) and a blah blah blah blah blah blah and a yaddha yaddha yaddha.
Oh yeah, ghetto dwelling and the Norco Crips too okay? Assa lamma lenkum my brothers and sisters and God bless us each and everyone. Take care folks, talk to y’uns later.
This is Anthony Mandich, your humble and nutritious servant saying, So Long!
P.S. “Hottest Ass”
P.P.S. “Sex, drugs, and Pussy”!
P.P.S.S. “Sean Stenlake”, Sean Stenlake: Attorney at Law, Sean Stenlake: American Hero, Sean Stenlake: The Brother I Never Knew, Sean Stenlake: Lessons in Being Great, Sean Stenlake I Love You, Sean Stenlake: Blue Eyed Wunderkind, Sean Stenlake: Everything You Have Always Wanted to Know But Were Afraid to Assk
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