Tour Guide: “And over here, boys and girls, we have the Charles F. Nelson house.”
Little Billy: “Who cares.”
Little Andy: “My juice box is empty.”
Little Sally: “I gotta pee.”
Tour Guide: “It’s one of the most famous houses in Olalla, Washington.”
Little Billy: “Why? Did somebody die here?”
Little Andy: “Were they murdered?”
Little Sally: “Was there blood?”
Tour Guide: “Well, the house is over a hundred years old, so I’m sure somebody died at some point. That’s just how it works. But that’s not why we’re here.”
Little Billy: “We’re here because you made us get off the bus.”
Little Andy: “I wanna see a death house.”
Little Sally: “With blood.”
Tour Guide: “This house is a beautiful example of late-Victorian architecture.”
Little Billy: “Who’s Victoria? Why is she late?”
Little Andy: “Was she hacked to death because she was late?”
Little Sally: “Can we see her body?”
Tour Guide, giving up: “Okay, fine. Why don’t you little heathens stare at the darkened windows on the right side of the second floor. That’s where you might be able to see the ghost of Victoria the Axe Killer who chopped up hundreds of kids from private schools who had focus issues. If she looks directly at you, that means you’re next. I’m going to go over here by this blood-drenched tree, Little Sally, so I can pop a calming pill that you should probably be taking, swig a gallon of vodka, update my resumé on LinkedIn, and move on with my life.”
Little Billy: “Oh, we drink vodka all the time.”
Little Andy: “That’s why I’m mad that my juice box is empty.”
Little Sally: “My favorite is Skyy Blood Orange.”
Tour Guide, stunned: “How are you terrible mini-humans allowed to roam free in public?”
Little Billy: “Offshore bank accounts.”
Little Andy: “Citizens United.”
Little Sally: “The NRA bitch-slapping Congress.”
Tour Guide: “This is insane. What has happened to your decency at such a young age?”
Little Billy: “Republicans cutting funding for education.”
Little Andy: “”Republicans gerrymandering the hell out of electoral maps.”
Little Sally: “Inbreeding.”
Tour Guide: “This is more than I can handle. I’ve got to call for backup.” [Tour Guide turns and runs toward a safe house that hopefully hasn’t been compromised by the mindless Walking Dead, whipping out her satellite phone.] “Bernie, this is Freelancer. I need an airlift. The stupid is thick in these parts.”
Ted Cruz, one of those self-proclaimed evangelical Senators from Texas who wouldn’t know morality from a hole in the ground, once again wandering into a place that he isn’t qualified to be: “Well done, my little minions who aren’t disturbed that I look like a pedophile. You shall be rewarded greatly for your efforts, even though those efforts are in support of a megalomaniac who has no boundaries. You can touch me now, basking in my glow as the next Jesus.”
Little Billy: “I want the money you promised me.”
Little Andy: “And my juice box is still dry.”
Little Sally: “And I still need to pee.”
Ted: “Now, now, my flock. Don’t worry your empty little heads. Have I told you the story about Saint Ronnie and the Trickle-Down Theory? No? Well, it goes something like this. Once upon a time, some lies were told by people who didn’t give a damn about lying. Lies that could easily be proven wrong. Lo and behold, lots of idiots believed the lies because the concept of rational thinking has been eradicated in critical elements of the populace, especially in rural areas. So, our party decided to just lie about everything. All the time. And we keep winning! Especially in rural areas. Are you following me, my little drunken apostles?”
Little Billy: “I don’t care if you lie. As long as I get my government check, I’m good. Just don’t do none of that socialism.”
Little Andy: “And stop all those people from voting if they don’t like your lies.”
Little Sally: “Wait a minute. Shouldn’t everybody get to vote? And aren’t those government checks socialism? Maybe I don’t need to pee, after all. Maybe I’m starting to figure things out and I just don’t know how to process the concept of rational thought and I’m manifesting the confusion in my bladder.”
Tour Guide: “Hang on, Bernie. Put a hold on that extraction for now. I think we might have at least a brief moment of insight out here in the sticks. I’ll call you back.”
Behind a darkened window on the right side of the second floor of the Nelson House, Victoria wistfully smiled. Perhaps someday the right children will do the right things and the windows will no longer be darkened by the deception of others. Perhaps…
Previously published. Some changes made, mainly to soften the political aspects for those not familiar with the American electoral carnival. Randomly-related note: I need to dig out a certain story in the archives involving Skyy vodka and a subsequent poor lifestyle decision during a trip to Hawaii. It didn’t involve the Blood Orange flavor, but it did involve shame…
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
Demand to see his birth certificate. If I’m not mistaken, he was born in Calgary. But don’t get me wrong, you can keep him. We have our own douchenozzle buffoons to deal with. 😉
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It’s also my understanding that Cruz was born in Calgary, which instantly negates his candidacy for President in this country, at least according to what is left of our shredded Constitution. But I shan’t be joining in any efforts to send him back, as America needs to own their misdeeds and stop making other countries suffer for their ineptitude…
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Reblogged this on Love and Love Alone.
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Thank you!
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Every time Ted Cruz speaks, an angel wrings its hands. (Yes, I know, someone should wring Teds neck, but…) And alas, for one moment Victoria might hope one of the children may see the light but most of the kids will turn back to the dark red side. Insufferable little children, growing up to become mini Teds.
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Sadly, this country has drifted so far away from “the right thing to do” that those insufferable little children are now legion instead of unwelcome variances. Said it before, saying it again: There is a downside to a country having tremendous wealth and opportunity, and we are now seeing the fallout of lazy people who have never suffered and therefore cannot grasp the suffering of others…
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Is it me? Or does Ted Cruz look like a creepy Eddie Munster all grown up..
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Yes, he does. And that wretched beard he’s been sporting lately? If that doesn’t say “sex offender”, I don’t know what does…
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I’m surprised the school was still running field trips, given all the cuts in education. I also noticed there was no mention of the teacher – I guess they used the field trip as a personal day…
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Actually, the school was doing the field trip because the electricity had been cut off at Benedict Arnold Elementary, due to budget concerns, so they piled all the privileged urchins on a bus and sent them off. (Meanwhile, the teacher in question was being investigated by a local grand jury because she once made an off-hand remark that socialism wasn’t all that bad. In 1972.) Suffice it to say that nobody knew what the hell was going on, which is now a hallmark of American politics…
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I wish I had that teacher back in 1972!
And it’s nice to see that the school named itself after one of our best and brightest 🙂
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Victoria also smiled because she was happy. Happy to be dead and far removed from the three-ring circus that comprises modern-day politics, anywhere in the world. People used to worry about the body snatchers and pods and aliens. What they don’t seem to realize is that those kinds of movies were actually documentaries, meant to warn the awake about a pending threat. Since most were asleep, few got the message. The few were rounded up and put in asylums and labeled things such as subversive, radical, and of course, insane. The gerrymandering continued and now we’re presented with the end product which is so much worse than any movie could have predicted. The aliens are here and they are us.
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It’s actually amazing when one goes back to review old “scary movies” with fresh eyes that look at the goings on from a political perspective. There were warnings all over the place, even if no one, including the scriptwriters, quite realized such. Man is the most threating thing to mankind, and yet we are doing so little to stop the carnage.
I think I’ll join Victoria on that second floor, share a nice cup of tea, and watch the madness unfold…
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Very funny…and on point.
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Thank you, Sarah!
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Don’t most stories involving vodka end in shame?? Also tequila, rum, gin, whiskey…😳
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Well, not all the time. I’ve indulged in those beverages (save the gin and the whiskey), And since my metabolism apparently processes alcohol very fast indeed, I never got drunk. So no walk of shame, not even once. Now if you’re talking about sex, well that’s another topic altogether.
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As BTO sang “any love is good lovin…” so my shame was usually the falling down, getting sick, TMI kind.😆
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Angie: The sad part is that I’m already naturally-inclined to trip my ass over instant shame, so the addition of festive spirits can easily make things worse…
Melanie: I have a VERY high alcohol-tolerance level, which means I retain relative control of my faculties far longer than most around me. Which THEN means that I become the leader of the pack, so to speak, and therefore the mischief that follows is mostly my fault. And I can’t really blame the alcohol. Well, mostly not… 😉
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I was surprised to see a landmark from Olalla, Washington. Of all my visits to that hamlet, the trip with you today was my favorite.
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I’m glad you enjoyed our little excursion. Personally, I’ve never been to Olalla, but I understand there’s a diner there that serves a mean patty melt, and that’s all it takes to get me going. Or a photo. Photos send me on a trip as well, and I just hope that everyone enjoys the ride… 😉
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You can use my empty juice box to pee in Sally……
Thankyou Andy. Our tour guide doesn’t give a stuff about my bladder….
And I wanna Hungry Jack burger…..
All he’s interested in is Victoria Billy…..
Stuff Victoria……it’s all tommy rot
Who’s Tommy Billy?….
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See how easy it is? Thanks for embracing the Bonnywood spirit. If you stare at a photo long enough, you find an absurd thread to pull, and that leads to other threads, and the next thing you know you’re somewhere you didn’t expect to be but it feels kind of nice…
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Like you, I enjoy nonsense and absurdity. You have to let yourself go and not care what others think don’t you? IMO many don’t let go because they’re afraid what others might think of them. Silly git…I’ve gone past that and just do my bit regardless. As you say, it feels nice ….
Silly git
Or silly not
Don’t care if
It’s tommy rot
Who’s Tommy?
Do you know anything about this little Tommy Brian? I’m assuming his last name is Rot? From a long line of Rots no doubt…..
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I’ve never met Tommy, but I did run into his cousin, Potato, at a watermelon-seed spitting contest in East Texas. Sadly, neither of us placed, but there was lots of beer so… 😉
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Was that Tommy’s cousin Potato Rot?….I spit watermelon seeds myself privately but they don’t seem to go into competitions down here…maybe too ‘basic’ for Orstralians ….dunno?
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I’m glad you said it was a carnival Brian. I thought it was real……
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Let’s just call it a Real Carnival, and let’s cross our fingers that somebody figures out the whole mess before somebody pushes the wrong button and we become vapor dust. Until then, make it funny and carry on…
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You’ve touched on an important point. The use of humour/satire to help us get through serious (stupid?) situations. Talking of pressing the wrong button you see ‘Dr Strangelove’ ? Classic…..
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“Dr. Strangelove” is perfection, and it holds up perfectly fine over time, unlike many movies…
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I must watch it again…just so good
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Remind me never to become a Tour Guide.
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But you would be so good at it! Well, as long as most of the people on the tour had some degree of intelligence and sense of proper behavior and…. oh, I just got your point…. 😉
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its good nice to read
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Thank you!
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