Monday, April 26, 2010

Ted Offers You His Special Gold Tip Shaft

Remember how I wasn't around much for awhile, and then it turned out my computer was to blame and not even my laziness at all?  And then I disappeared for even longer?

It's like every time I complain that my computer is broken, the computer ups the ante.

This time it was blatant computer psychosis, all wacky Pac Man patterns and angry screens full of blather about crash dump this and I can read your mind that.  So I gathered it up tenderly and lugged the stupid thing down to the geek powers that be, who giggled and fidgeted and clicked the pen in their pocket protectors and then said probably your hard drive, that'll take 6-8 weeks.  Also they said, this is the third one of this model we've seen today! so it's good to know I wasn't the only person tricked into buying the Exorcist 300.

Now I've got a loaner that I had to sign over my grandmother and two camels for, and the thing makes a horrible thumping noise when you turn it on.  Probably the fan is going to fly out any minute and decapitate me, and then they'll charge my grieving family for the damage.

I am done now.  It was so much more peaceful around here before I showed up all whiny, I know.

How about if I change the subject?

Did you know Ted Nugent has his own brand of arrows?  They're called the Ted Nugent Signature Shafts. Gold Tip. Zebra-striped.

I know what you're thinking.

Rednecks.  You spray and spray and they keep coming back.

Even here, in southern California, land of movie stars and glamor, and tall , pointy shoes, we have a significant redneck underbelly.  Because when you travel east, towards the desert, but not far enough to land yourself in Las Vegas, you will encounter a steady increase in the population of people who have suspicious freezers in their sheds and neon beer signs over the baby's crib.

I myself am not a redneck, despite the banjo-players occupying my father's side of the family tree, and the shameful SPAM-filled years of my adolescence, but I'm excellent at spotting them.

For instance, my son decided, after a brief introduction to archery at snow camp this year, that he would like to take up the sport, and probably medal at the Olympics. We're big dreamers at Casa Vic.

So we signed him up through the city for some beginning archery lessons, and a sweet, tiny Filipino lady with a ball cap and swishy track pants took control of a class of young boys and two girls, all eager to shoot some arrows. The archery range is on the university campus, and at this point it felt pretty sporty and clean, the arrows breezing by on their way to the colorful bullseyes in the distance, the twang of the strings, the cute little quivers.

It was all fine until my husband decided to investigate the closest archery supply store (located at the back of a seedy industrial park) for a beginner's bow (the big twelfth birthday was just around the corner!  My son's, not my husbands, although it's safe to say my son is on the verge of passing his father up).

Inside the store lay horror.

My son said "Ooh, fluffy!" and put a finger in one nostril.

This wild boar was on the counter. That's all there is of him.  On the walls were the heads of eight of his wild-boar brethren, plus a deer, a rabbit, and a bear.  On the walls between the heads were the most terrifying camo-covered cross-bows, and pretzel-shaped hunting bows with sights, and laminated posters of woodland creatures with bullseyes drawn over their hearts and brains, and bowie knives.  And Ted Nugent Signature Shafts.

It was kind of a shock.  We have hunters in the family, and I'm used to the mental picture of gun-toting guys in orange jackets, like Elmer Fudd sneaking through the forest (BE VEWY QWIET) , but the Filipino lady didn't prepare me for the Killer Elf Supply Store.

The customer next to me at the counter kept looking down the neck of her very large T-shirt, probably because the girls seemed to be free and she was checking on their locations. Both were heading south, as far as I could tell.  Below the T-shirt she wore neon purple leggings and a pair of flip flops wedged over tube socks. She was the only one in the store besides our family that was not wearing a bristle hair cut.

It felt like a different country we'd stepped into.

On the way home I saw a sleek woman in a Mercedes next to us who had a doily draped precisely over her headrest, and it was then that I finally felt we had re-entered civilization.
Next post:  Anal Gel on the Horizon?  I Hope to God Not.


cassienativebeauty said...

Hi. I just started following your blog and I love it. It's hilarious!

CatLadyLarew said...

Memo: Buy doily for back of headrest to update and add class to 1995 Toyota. Because although I HAVE shot my own sister with an arrow, I'm not a redneck... as evidenced by the paucity of boars' heads over my mantle.

Kurt said...

Doilies are always fancy. If they had put one on that boar's head you would've been all "Well a good day to YOU, fine sir" and there would have been less fingers-in-nostrils, I bet.

just making my way said...

Archery is cool. Ted Nugent I could do without. Unless we got him to wear a doily. That would be interesting.

erin said...

On my birthday weekend we were walking around the 'glamorous' 'cultural district' and Jeremiah was showing me around, being that he was a bike messenger for 4 years and mainly delivered to the clustered odd downtown area. We somehow made a wrong turn (much to Jeremiah's chagrin) and ended up in the most white trash block of a metropolitan area ever. All of these rednecks of epic proportions were congregated outside a XXX shop, and most of them were wearing camo. Nice way to cap of a hunting trip? It was so weird.

Logical Libby said...

What's wrong with a beer sign over the baby's crib? It's like a very colorful night light...

otherworldlyone said...

Computers. Ugh.

You're right. Maybe we are related.

Before my dad started banging some mid-western redneck woman, moved, and my parents got divorced - we had "The Room of Death". It was supposed to be the "office/computer room". But along with the desk and a giant framed photo of labs with ducks in their mouths was a wall full of deer heads and fish. Oh, and one stuffed, snarling coyote standing in the corner. It had a huge rubber tongue that we used to throw at each other.

Good times.

Dr Zibbs said...

I would kill to have a wild boar!!

That Baldy Fella said...

What home isn't classied up by a stuffed wild boar. Well, except for the ones without wheels on the sides, that is...

kate said...

Uhh, Vic. You're going to have to do me a favor and not ever mention the words "Ted Nugent" and "shaft" in the same sentence again. I feel all vomity.

Summer said...

Rednecks. You spray and spray and they keep coming back.

Quite possibly the most hilarious thing you've ever said. lol.

Jules said...

I swear you live in my neighborhood. Are you sure.....????

JustLinda said...

Purple flip flops over tube socks??



Oh my.

Ed said...

Rednecks are everywhere. This explains Jeff Foxworthy's appeal all those years.

miss. chief said...

I always drape doilies all over everything I do. Makes me feel fancy.

Megs said...

I fear having children because there is some dormant redneck gene from my father, lying in wait for me to have children so that I can be punished for mocking the redneck side of my family tree.

My dad's favorite story is the one about how he shot a 10-point buck in the yard from his bedroom window, and how it actually landed on the porch when it died.

You're welcome.

MJenks said...

I've been to a store like that.

And I bought stuff...

Fortunately, there were no "freed" girls and tube socks with flip flops wedged into them...

But she might have been preferable to what WAS in those stores...

Also, that's a helluva teaser for the next time, Vic.

Wow, that was awkward said...

Ted Nugent has a house in Michigan near my exes home town. Going to that part of the world was like a whole town of the archery store. The boys' grandpa is a big time bow hunter. I just try not to think about it too much. And it also helps me feel good about Will's desire to wear high heels all the time.

Taytay said...

I think I once knew a Vic who posted in a similar style then just kind of up and vanished... Glad to see you are back! Summer is just around the corner!

Vic said...

It's nice to meet you!

I think shooting a sibling with an arrow might make you a redneck, even without the taxidermy. I'm going to have to check the handbook.

That would be like hog church, in which case the fingers still go in the nostrils, only the fingers are wearing white gloves.

That would have to be one HUGE doily to make Ted Nugent tolerable. Wait, did I just compliment him?

Sometimes it's possible to encounter rednecks in the wild, in their natural environment. I hope you didn't spook them.

Also it simulates the womb, if that womb hung out in taverns. So soothing.

Did the Room of Death have a singing bass plaque? I'm pretty sure it had to. Where can you buy a rubber coyote tongue? You know, just hypothetically?

It's pretty much kill or be killed. Wild Bore is much easier to hunt - you can find them in the city.

I know! I especially love the poorly done ones, where the eyes are slightly wonky. Whimsy!

How long have you been crushin' on the Nuge? I think you li-i-i-ke him!

How many family members do you think I've offended? I've lost count...:)

So, you know that abandoned truck out back??.....

I'm on to you now-- unless you have a totally hot tube-sock twin out here...?

"If you need a Nugent Signature Shaft to pick up dinner, you might be a redneck..."

miss chief,
The best part about doilies are the name. Doily. Doily.


Megs!!! My dad once shot a quail from the window of a moving car! That we were in! That he was driving! With a beer wedged in his crotch!
I have so many lost relatives here. I'm tearing up.

Don't you wish you knew WHO the anal gel was for? I wish I didn't know...

Wow, TWA,
It makes you realize just how thin the veneer of civilization is, doesn't it?
Tell that boy he can rock the heels.

Good to see you too! I've been truant (school speak). I can't wait for summer.
(Hey, what are you eating? Is that meatloaf?)

Eric said...

When I was a youngster, I saw Ted Nugent pull up a girl on stage in Ft. Worth. It was odd because a signature shaft might have been involved.

Hey, you should buy that boar as a peace offering to your neighbor with all the yard bling.

chris.dadness said...

A rabbit? How would you describe its expression?

Miss Yvonne said...

Sounds just like a weekend at my husband's grandparent's house. Come see me in Texas sometime. You'll feel like you need a shower pretty much all day long.

Steam Me Up, Kid said...

Doilies on the headrest? That's nothing. I wear doily pantyliners. Top THAT!

Ah, man. I see now that Kurt beat me to the doily comment and did it better.

linlah said...

There is a very fine line between the Elmer Fudd hunters of your youth and the Killer Elf Supply store, be very careful.

otherworldlyone said...

I'm looking into the coyote tongue.

And no, it didn't have Billy the Singing Bass. BUT my grandfather did have one on his wall. And if I ever hear "Take me to the river" again, it will be too soon. :)

Girl Interrupted said...

Hey Vic :)

Looking at that boar pic gave me a major "Twilight: New Moon" flashback!! (And I loved what your son said/did ... wanna trade him for my Grandfather?)

Exorcist 300!!! ... Why are you not reknowned on an even greater global scale??

The mad woman behind the blog said...

I once owned a rabbit pelt purse. I thought I was fancy.
Not sad those days are behind me. And I second that: please don't mention Ted Nugent and shaft in the same sentence again. Ew.

chupacabra said...

You normal pure genius- very good. My neighbors don't realize we don't live in a trailer park anymore and in fact, live in a nice neighborhood with nice, new houses. There are pink flamingos and outdoor lighting that is supposed to look 'classy', but is the opposite of that everywhere.
My neighbor shot dove from his backyard the first year I was back from Iraq. Within days my neighbor across the street had his annual picnic with requesite gunfire. Yes, it made me a little 'twitchy'.
But, anyway- Texas my Texas.

Chelle said...

I love culture.

Marie said...

A doily on my headrest? Why haven't I thought of that?!?! And Shabby Chic covers for my seats?!

I bought my second hand van last year to accommodate the obnoxious accoutrement of Multiple Sclerosis, which it has been perfect for.

But the interior is...I swear...some form of black and green camouflage. It's creepy.

Time for some doilies. And, no surprises here, I have millions of them!