A Spin On The Wild Side ©

On today’s menu of events and happenings we compare the thinking of farmer John who obviously lives in the country and under wide-open skies filled with blinking stars to that of city dweller Paul, who lives under a sign that flashes “Erotic Movies” all night long.

Each one knows how everything works in his neck of the woods and there it’s the right thing to do.

BUT

A city boy in the country and a farmer in the city hmmmm
It could spell to trouble.

Coming from am family of immigrants, immigrants who came from a small town I have had to endure a number of things.
I have had some eye opening experiences as well like the time I went on a trip to Greece.
I think I was about 11.
It was the real first time I got to experience the act of sex, first by animal then people.
Living in the city and at the age I was I didn’t get to see much and TV wasn’t like it is back then.
I knew the fundamentals of sex but never really seen it.
Not even two dogs or cats going at it.

One day while I was at my grandmothers she asked me to do her a favour and to take her goat to the neighbours house for the afternoon.
I said sure, the woman was eighty and I was but a kid so I tied a rope around the goat’s neck and ran off to the neighbour’s who was in a bigger hurry than me to get there.

About fifteen minutes later I came back with the goat and put her in her pen again and ran off to find my cousins.
Later when it was time for lunch I went home to my grandmother’s house and she was waiting for me all pissed off and all.
I didn’t understand why she was mad at me.

She said the neighbour came by yelling and screaming saying that I killed his ram.
Killed his ram, pah.
I just whacked it over the head with a log, it was probably just dizzy.
My grandmother asked me why I did what I did, so I explained it to her in my best 11 year told Canadian born and raised, city boy logic.

I brought the goat to the neighbour's place and to the back like I was instructed.
I tied the goat inside the stall with the other, much bigger meaner looking goat and closed the gate.

Well, no sooner than I had the door closed the big ugly goat jumped on the cute little goats back and started pounding her into the ground.
I figure fuck that, the big goat was beating up the poor little goat so I picked up the log and went back in and taught that big old ugly goat to pick on someone his own size and brought the little goat back home.
I didn’t want to get into trouble by my grandmother if anything happened to the goat.

Well it seems all of that was supposed to happen.
It was sex.
Go figure.
I only thought sex happened in books back then.

So you see without proper introduction the inexperienced city boy is lost in the country.
You send him to the barn to get a bucket of milk and you find him still there later trying to give a cow ten bucks because that’s how much the hookers charge to grab their tit in the city.

John on the other hand is a country boy and now used to all the technology they have in the city especially the malls.
In the country you could park your horse and buggy anywhere but in the city its not the same way.
In the city you have to park in designated areas and only during certain times of the day and all vehicles have to be licensed and insured.
They big problem there was attaching the licence plate to the horses tail because when it wasn’t falling off the horse, it was slicing pedestrians to pieces every time it swished its tail around at the pedestrian crossings.

In the mall was a nightmare, thousands of people churned around bumping into each other while running in and out of the multitude of shops.
Kids with funny hair and pieced noses gathered in the food courts.
The most confusing part was when he went to the washroom.
He was appalled to see how even here it was segregated.
The rich people had to pay a dime to use the fancy toilet with toilet behind the door and the poor had to use the one stuck on the wall without the toilet paper.
Even the holes were to small for anything to go down.
This was probably to discourage other people to use it making them thing it was broken he thought.

Even the simple task of cleaning the furniture takes a new perspective.
In the country you take everything outside and hose it down and leave it in the sun to dry then bring it in later.
In the city you call my mother and she tells your aunt to wash the couch in the washing machine one cushion at a time but doesn’t tell her to take the fucken foam out of it.

So what does my aunt do?
She forces the whole couch cushion into the washing machine in her little closet, that was specifically made to a washer dryer and hits the start button.

What is a couch cushion?
A couch cushion is a big fucken sponge that could hold a hundred pounds of water and can make the washing machine whip and slap all over the place when the foam is all on one side of the machine.
And smash it did.
The closet was destroyed and the dryer, which was next to it looks like it was in a smash up derby.
The closet door was knocked off of its hinges and the machine was last seen chasing my 80-year-old uncle and 72-year-old aunt down the hallway before it finally tumbled down the stairs next to the hallway trashing the walls and smashing the front door.

Man, am I happy they have sons to call and fix the place LOL

The moral to this story is, always use a short extension cord when operating the washing machine.
You never know how excited it might get during the spin cycle.

Have a nice weekend

Walker