As cool as fur traders seem to be from a distance, they are a bunch of arrogant pricks close up. Trust me, I spent a bunch of time with some of them last night. It might seem cool to live in shitty conditions just sittin round killing animals and ripping off their furbags, I mean , yeah, SEEMS cool, but when you are actually hanging out tryin to make jokes, you realize that they are all a bunch of arrogant pricks. Did I say all that twice? GOOD.
All I wanted to do was a little felting. If you don't know what that is, it's where you take a handful of fur and basically rub is all together to make the fibers get all tangled together ultimately creating felt. It ain't easy, I used to felt the hair my dogs and cats shed, it's kinda therapeutic. Well these arrogant pricks from last night wouldn't give up any of the fur scraps, It's not like I was asking for a PELT, I was asking for fucking fur that was useless, HAIR. They were all arrogant pricks. Close up that is.
They sure did have a lot of raccoons. Some were pets, most were piled up dead.
Luckily I had an appointment to introduce a local celebrity in the little town square. Unluckily I couldn't find my shoes or pants. The arrogant pricks all made suggestions about what I should do, pointing out all kinds of lame pants and stupid sport shoes with pumps and zippers all over the fuck and . I wasn't about to get onstage with no fur trader hip hop gear Knowwhudmsayn? Feelmeh?
Yeah, so I skipped out on the intro and didn't leave the fur shack until the town square emptied out. It was almost dark. I grabbed the nearest fur trench coat and stepped out into the dusk. I was dressed one part homeless, one part pimp, one part crazy and four or five parts flasher. Whatever, the dirt streets were empty.
A big station wagon pulled up about 100 feet in front of me and a big tall homeless indian fella with a big scar the size of four half cooked hamburger patties on his face crawled out. He went around to the back and pulled out an old stainless steel sink deal that looked like it came out of a fancy restaurant. He carried it over and just plopped it down in front of the house where all the Arrogant Prick Fur Traders lived. He was trying to get rid of it. I wanted it, but instead of playing cool til he left, something, probably having to do with my outfit, caused me to do exactly the opposite of smart.
"Uh, excuse me, you can't leave that there, the dudes in that house are friends of mine and they hate it when people just dump their shit." I lied, not minding nearly enough of my own business.
The hamburger faced indian turned to me and stared at me for a second like I had just told him his mom looks like Bob Hope.
Then I noticed he was holding an axe.
Not just any axe, the big crazy kind you see warriors in comic books swinging around. Where do gigantic indian people get those axes anyway?
I regretted saying anything.
He began to walk towards me, obviously wanting to chop off a chunk of my head, which is what you KNOW would happen, there is no way he wouldda just made a clean swipe and lopped off my head, of COURSE just a chunk of head would come out first and fall in the dirt and then I'd have to pick it up and rinse the dirt off in the gutter. I hate unskilled hamburger faced murdering indians. I mean COME ON, learn how to use an axe.
Back to the story. So I decided to go down the road for about 2 seconds but then I realized it was a dead end. I was doing my best to keep calm and not acknowledge that he was about to take chunks out of my skull, I even considered playing dead for a second but then I remembered that he was a human being and not a moose.
This is the part where I started regretting not putting on some of the Arrogant Prick Fur Trader's hip hop sneakers.
But even then, I knew that if I ran he would probably run faster and was probably looking forward to the chase. It was obvious by the four hamburger scar that he was not new to axe fights.
So what did I do? I faked him out, I looked left then went right. He let the axe fly and it went in the wrong direction, hit a wall and did and oh so unfortunate (for him) bounce up onto the roof.
"HA HA "Navajo" (air quotes), more like Nava"NO!" (gigantic air quotes).
Then I sped walked like a fag right on down the road cuz axe or not, Chief Head Like Four Burgers looked like a biter.
! did my best to hail a cab.
Barefoot in a fur trenchcoat ain't the best outfit for cab catchery. I should have listened to the Arrogant Pricks.
Later on I massaged a naked woman's entire body and since I was massaging, all I could think about was how much humans and sausages have in common, Then I realized massage and sausage are basically the same word. Then I invented the technique called Massausage™. Remind me to write that down. HUGE.
Now I'm hungry.
That's all for now.
Don't get caught stereotyping even ONE native american as an incompetent scalper.
Your Really Really Important Business at Hand,
Barry Bonds
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