Friday, Aug. 3, 2001
Hey, Shorty, get me a glass o' buttermilk, will ya? Ah, thanks… nothin'
like a nice cold glass o' buttermilk, no sir. Hey, I ever tell you the
one about the milkman's boy? No? Well, listen up a spell…
You remember that ol' boy Floyd that used to deliver the milk, don't
you? Long time ago. Guy was always pissed off at everybody, couldn't
nobody talk to him for very long or he'd go off on 'em? You remember.
Anyway, it turns out that ol' Cecil , who brings the milk now, is his
son. I know, he's Moira's boy, rest her soul, and no, it didn't happen
the natural way. Ol' Floyd was too mean and lowdown to ever spend
enough time with a woman for that. And crazy Moira… well, you know
I don't like to speak unkind of the dead. But anyway, here's what
happened…
See, Floyd, he was always pissed off about something, like I said. And
for a long time he held a grudge against Moira and her sister
Penelope. Somethin' about 'em not givin' him a Christmas tip or some
damn thing, I don't know. The thing was, he was in a position to do
somethin' about his grudges if he wanted, and I guess he did, too.
What I heard was that he used to take a bottle o' milk and get in
the back o' the truck and whack himself, then he'd stick it in the
bottle and get his duck butter all in there with the milk. He
called it a "protein shake," and if you was on his shit list, pardon
my French, you had to watch out that he didn't deliver you a
protein shake with your regular order.
Well, I guess he had been givin' them ol' girls Moira and Penelope
some o' them protein shakes for quite a while. And the way Penelope
tells it, Moira didn't always use the milk to pour on her corn
flakes. She said that if Moira coulda afforded it, she woulda
bought enough milk to take a milk bath every morning. Now you
know, them ol' girls wasn't rich, so Moira never did get enough
milk at one time for that. Instead, she used to take one bottle
each morning and wash her lady parts with it. Dutchy, I think they
call it. So anyhow, turns out that she uses one or two o' them
protein shakes and dutchies herself with 'em, and bingo, whaddaya
think? Couple months go by and she realizes she's fragrant.
I'm tellin' ya, Shorty, no one in town could believe it, and not just
because Moira and Penelope were about as ugly as monkfish left out
to dry for a week. Thing was, they never had no truck with the men
in this town, none of 'em. And they didn't have no truck with no men
from no other towns, neither, far as anyone knew. They was suspected
of being lebanese, to be perfectly honest.
That ol' Moira, though, she didn't try to hide it or nothin'. She said
it was a sign from God, a whaddaya call it, one o' them unmasculate
deceptions. She walked around town like she was givin' a watermelon
a ride, just as proud as could be. Then when ol' Cecil gets born
and grows up, whaddaya know, he's the spittin' image o' Floyd.
Damnedest thing I ever heard, but it's one hunnert percent true.
Ask anybody.
'Course now, Cecil, he's a little easier to deal with than ol' Floyd
was, but that don't mean he don't got a temper. You just gotta stay
on his good side, that's all.
Hey Shorty, you ever notice how chunky buttermilk gets sometimes?
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The Milkman's Boy
Hey Shorty, you ever notice how chunky buttermilk gets sometimes?