and the cro-magnon man...

TRENDING NOW!!!TRENDING NO!!!

1.Salma Hayek (exotic and HOT) 

2.Brittny Gastineau (still don't know who this is?? and i don't care..)

3.Steve Martin (FUNNY)

4.Jessica Simpson (dumber than a box of poprocks)

5.Milli Vanilli (back in the studio)

6.Tommy Lee Jones (he's gettin old..he didn't die did he?)

7.iPad 2 rumors (will give you herpes)

8.Charity donations ( are the right thing to do)

9.Data storage (can you say floppy drive?)

10.Day trading (so simple a baby can do it)

welcome new BIA...... Jumble Mash...you need to check it out and be a masher, too...

another burb from the WISDOMS V book(What I Sorta Did On My Summer Vacation )


After Barney Fife left me on the side of the road and the GoodSam or whatever the f*ck road service I had paid hundreds of dollars to had realized I was not in Ocala, I was assured that a wrecker was on the way.

Five hours or so on the side of the road and I was none the worse for wear.

And hour passed.

Then two.


Finally, around midnight, a wrecker pulled up. I was saved! I elatedly I waited for the driver to come up and tell me his plan. He sat in the truck for what seemed like hours. When he finally graced me with his presence, I was suddenly unsure.


The man-mountain that appeared outside my van was definitely not happy. In fact he.was.pissed. I peered thru the window at one giant, pissed off red-neck, with a Grizzly Adams style jet-black beard, who was obviously dismayed at the idea of being awaken at midnight to rescue a hippy-jujube in a Chevy van.


In the background I heard the theme from Deliverance. I fought back an anxious giggle and the desire, no scratch that, screaming desire to say you sure are purty...…my revelry was short lived.


I think he said, “What’s the problem?” in a thick southern, mixed with gibberish, drawl .


Earlier description modification…He was a jumbo-sized Cro-Magnon man.


“It won’t stay running.” I said.

He offered nothing else.


‘Were gunna puter on thbed.”


It was then that he noticed my dog, Busker, in the van.


“thdog stays in thvan.Youkin ride wit me”


Cue the deliverance music. I would rather sleep with my sister, but hey, I was in the deep south…


“Okay.” Was all I dared to say.


At this point there was a lot of rollin and smoking while the dog was going nuckingfuts and he took 3 coon’s ages to load the f*ing van on the flat bed…


“Git thdogn thvan.” He mumbled.


I obeyed, as I could still see this situation getting even worse. He nodded and pointed to the wrecker truck.


“Whereto?”


This guy was not much of a talker. Size and physical attributes aside. He would never be confused with me in a two man line-up.


I had no idea where I was so I queried, “Is there a Pep Boys near by?”


“Yup.”


While Busker is not much of a conversationalist, he talks more than Cro-Magnon. The five minute ride to Pep Boys, seemed to take five hours. When we arrived the silence was deafening. I believe there was C&W music playing at such a low volume it mimicked silence.


We pulled into a sprawling strip mall and he wheeled the wrecker to the back of the Pep Boys lot.

“Gid out.”

Seriously? But I did. And I felt the safest I had felt in hours.

What he said next can only be interpreted as the following statement.


“Ineedtoseeurrregtrationbefurigiturvanoffthbed.” ( I need to see your registration before I get your van off the bed.)


I swear there was not a single space, he said it as all.one.word.


I climbed up, got the registration, and stepped out of the van.


I missed the deck of the wrecker bed.


I fell four feet down.


Flat.on.my,back.


The registration flew form my fingers. My head smacked the black top with a sickening wha-thud. Cro-Magnon picked up the registration and as, what I think was an afterthought, said.


“Aru k?”


“Yeah,” I said as I jumped up on my feet as if to say hey, I meant to do that. There’s me and SuperBruce…

Truth is I was not okay. Or I did not feel okay…I have not been okay since then. Prolly, from long before that. But…

He wrote down the numbers, handed back my registration, gave me the sales ticket, lumbered away and drove off.

I climbed in the van, got the dog, and let him go pee. I followed suit. Not many people to see you piss in public at 1 am in the morning. We both got back in the van. He snuggled up to me.
It is odd how he seemed to know I had been hurt. I assured him I was okay. He licked my face and grabbed a spot on the bed, curled up and went to sleep.

My head hurt a bit. Luckily my ponytail was tucked in the back of my cap. It helped to lessen the blow, I guess. I decided to stay awake because I had heard that sleeping after a blow to the head could be deadly.Concussions, hematoma's, aneurysms. So many possible bad outcomes. better to stay awake...

And then I saw that bottle of wine…

Just another day in paradise