The Hick Arrives No comments yet

Rufus Panders to a Bluehair

By Rufus on September 6th, 2010

From “The Hick Arrives at the Tea Party”

Ed went to the toilet. Rufus, meanwhile, had caught the attention of an old bird having a coffee in the corner.

“You running for Washington?” said the woman with glasses as big as a child’s forehead.

“Yes, ma’am. Rufus Hickman, pleased to meet you.”

“I think anyone who wants to go to Washington has got fucking shit for brains.”

“Well, Rufus reckons that wouldn’t be the first time I been accused of that.”

“That why you wear that stupid hat? Somebody cut open your skull and shit in your head, then sealed you up with that hat and slapped some glasses on you so nobody can see the shit in your eyes?”

“Yep.” Rufus said as his donut and coffee were brought to him.

“Plan on going to Washington to be a crook like everybody else, then?”

“Yep. Gonna go be an outlaw and make it legal for you to smoke pot.”

“Goddamn hippies. All right. Good luck.”

“You gonna vote for Rufus, bluehair?”

“Hell no. I ain’t voting no more.”

That’s my kind of woman. Sassy. Clearly in her 80s. Tolerant of my desire to smoke as much pot as humanly possible because she’s been through life and knows that it needs a little kick sometimes. Or all the time. Ed got out of the bathroom and had to clear the air with Rufus, saying maybe it’s not such a good idea to have a platform that was so pro-marijuana, especially in Nebraska’s 3rd District. Rufus tried to convince Ed that the 420 Project is what sets him apart from Jim Dandy, and besides, he told Rufus to stand for something, discover his values and defend them with conviction.

“This whole campaign is about liberty and personal freedom,” reminded Ed, “not legalizing drugs or smoking pot.”

“Rufus understands, Ed.”

“You don’t smoke pot, do you?”

“Absolutely not,” Rufus said. And that’s true. Rufus doesn’t smoke pot; he fucking destroys it. “If people misinterpret the 420 Project principles as something that advocates the use of marijuana, then Rufus can’t help that. He can’t read for people. There are probably some folks out there who could even read the Bible and misinterpret it.”

Nebraska Comments turned off

Rufus Meets Ben Franklin

By Rufus on September 6th, 2010

From “The Hick Arrives at the Tea Party”

Inside Ed’s palace, about 25 Tea Partiers were milling about, sipping cheap beer out of clear plastic cups, which made everyone look like they were drinking a big cup of urine and savoring it.

Ed proudly introduced Rufus as the next Congressman from Nebraska’s 3rd District, and everyone loudly applauded, which woke Rufus up from his chronic slumber. They might not have been many in number, but they were large in spirit, all wearing Ed’s Obama Hitler stickers and dumbshit hats with tea bags hanging down from them. One guy was dressed like some 18th Century child molester. Rufus needed to talk to him first.

“Howdy, fancy pants,” said Rufus.

“Hello my good sir.”

“Who are fuck are you supposed to be?”

“Well … I’m … I’m Benjamin Franklin. One of our founding fathers.”

“No shit?”

“No kidding, sir.”

“You the one that fucked all the slaves?”

“No. No, that’s not … so, you are ready to join the political circus and stand up for the values that I and my compatriots so wisely crafted into the Constitution lo so many years ago?”

“Yep.”

“As I have been known to say, a man who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

“How do you figure?”

“Well, I, what I think I meant was, you letting the government into your life doesn’t make you any more safe.”

“Oh.”

“Or, no, it’s more like, if you give up your liberty, you don’t deserve to be safe because of your liberty.”

“OK, Ben. Rufus will remember that,” said Rufus, already forgetting whatever that was.

God or Jesus No comments yet

Death of The Man

By Rufus on March 3rd, 2010

geneThe man who created the only good BBQ in Seattle has passed on.

Gene Porter of Dixie’s BBQ died of cancer at the age of 71. I had no idea he was that old.

He was famous for “The Man” sauce and taunting people with it by walking around his joint with this pot of pinkish-purple death. He’s ask you if you wanted to meet the man. If you said yes, he’d put this teeny tiny half teaspoon of this death sauce on your BBQ. It was great.

My favorite sandwich there was the 520 — named presumably after the highway the show was near. It was a hot link stuffed in a bun and smothered with pulled pork BBQ. It was a great sandwich, but when Gene came around with that Man sauce and put some on your sandwich, you could kiss your taste buds and any flavor from that 520 goodbye.

I bought a small amount of The Man sauce to take home. It came in a very small cylinder, like something you would expect makeup to be in. The sauce damn near ate through the plastic!

In the pantheon of BBQ, the Man sauce ranks right up there with Arthur Bryant’s Sweet Heat as two of the greatest BBQ inventions ever.

http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2011227470_bellevueporter02m.html

Thanks to Tin Chan, or as Gene called him, “Chinatown,” for breaking the bad news to me.

Border State Hate No comments yet

Kansas – Silent but Deadly

By Rufus on November 21st, 2009

She's such a charmer, oh no.

She's such a charmer, oh no.

From The Hick Arrives

Kansans scare me. It ain’t because they’re such dirt farmers or creepy backwoods hillfolk or anything like that. They’re quiet. Too quiet. Too nice. They’re ready to explode at any minute, and being their border neighbors to the north, we have to defend ourselves against the impending attack from the Sunflower State.

The mascot of their biggest school is a jayhawk. What’s a jayhawk? I have no idea. That’s the thing. We don’t know a lot about Kansas. Once every seven years or so, you actually meet somebody who is “from” Kansas, but they’re quiet, nice and keep to themselves. Scary. The only person of prominence most people could associate with Kansas is former Senator Bob Dole, and he kept talking about himself in that third person. Very eerie.

How can you not watch your back against a state that had once won the honor of most beautiful license plate? How do you not fear a state that’s home of the world’s largest ball of twine? (And what’s scarier is it’s still growing.) What happens when they decide to actually do something with that twine? That’s right: They’re coming after Nebraska. What free-wheeling sort doesn’t keep his eye on a state that once made it illegal to put ice cream on cherry pie? Hey, Rufus ain’t talking euphemisms here, people! This is serious! You could not put ice cream on cherry pie!

Amelia Earhart was from Kansas, and now, where is she? That’s right. WE DON’T KNOW! The guy who invented basketball, James Naismith, was the first basketball coach at the University of Kansas, and as you already know, Nebraska and basketball don’t get along too good.

Naismith was the only basketball coach at the University of Kansas to have a career losing record (55-60). Ain’t it just a coincidence that the feller who invented the game of basketball would actually have a losing record coaching the game he invented? Or, is it just an example of how Kansans refuse to show you their hand, preparing for the big attack against Nebraska one of these days? Naismith, by the way, was even Canadian!

You might have never been to Kansas, you probably couldn’t point to it on a map and this might be the first time you’ve ever read the word “Kansas” in print, but mark my words: They’re lying in the weeds, waiting….

Hicktionary No comments yet

Double Negative

By Rufus on October 30th, 2009

hicktionary

double negative (n.)

Two bad things that happen to good people

The Hick Arrives No comments yet

Short Stall Wall

By Rufus on October 26th, 2009

2My worst bathroom experience of all time happened at Rufus’s high school, Cow Pie High.

Pimpled Rufus needed to crap real, real bad. Our high school had three sets of bathrooms. One nice (which was locked unless there was a sporting event), one average and one piss room. It was called that because you wouldn’t ever, ever go #2 in that bathroom. Instead of having an enclosed stall for you to do your worst in, like every bathroom in the world, this bathroom had two toilets with no doors.

Not only were there no doors, but a three-foot-tall cinder block wall separated the toilets from each other. A similar wall separated one toilet from the urinal. Essentially, unless you were a small freshman, when you sit down, everyone can see your head as you’re trying to smash.

Not only is there a face to go along with the smell, there’s also that uncomfortable moment where people think they have to talk to each other while they’re going to the bathroom. Easy for the person taking a piss. He’s there for 30 seconds, says his peace and then is gone. The young man taking a dump has to have that conversation maybe 4 or 5 times before the job is done. After that experience, you learn to hold it, even if it means you’re going to get cancer.

From “The Hick Arrives”