Now don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Canada. Canadian people are very friendly and Canada has a lot going for it. Fresh air, scenic views, free public health-care, lots of land sparsely inhabited by overly-friendly people...ok fuck it I have plenty against Canada. But they aren't the main characters of this telling tale of fuck-tard-ery as this story could've occurred in Hickville U.S.A. with the same result.
So I was somewhat prepared for this family gathering as I had met her family on her mother's side already on numerous occasions. Being that my girlfriend was borne to parents who were over the age of 40, her family is much older and much more conservative than she. Also assuming that we were heading to Sasketchuan farming country rather than an urban metropolis, I knew that I was going to be surrounded by the religious right the whole time I was there. Which to me means "No Pussy for Higgy Week" since there is no sleeping with my girlfriend or in this case sleeping NEAR my girlfriend. I'm not even joking. I slept on a couch in the living room, which was as comforting to my back as Ike was to the city of Galveston, while my girlfriend shared a double-bed with her snoring mother choking babies in her sleep. She could not escape the snorefest because she was NOT allowed to sleep on the other couch in the living room since I was in there. HOUSE RULES. Why the hell would I ever want to rail my girlfriend with the slight chance that I would be caught by the Jesus police, thrown in a obnoxiously violet field of flax, and left for dead in a country that isn't my own? Give me a damn break. I only tell you this to properly describe the setting of the following story. Had there been a fucking clue in my head, remembering for a split second my surroundings, maybe this would never have happened.
During the week I was in Canada, we ventured with the same people to one of the relatives' houses to have dinner and to talk about the same things we had talked about the previous evening. These subjects ranged from planning the next family reunion and the farming industry to the comfort of Jesus so you can imagine how riveting a time this was for my girlfriend and myself.
So on one of these evenings, we had to drive an hour or so past many a field and pasture to another one of these entertaining dinners. Of course with my luck, my girlfriend is sitting in the back seat passed out from the excitment of our day picking fucking berries in the garden and I am riding shotgun with her mom's cousin's husband (As a small aside to this story, this family tree although large does not have many branches if you catch my drift). Not to get distracted from the tale here, I had to make awkward small talk with this guy during this boring drive. I felt compelled to at least do so as a common courtesy to the guy. This man worked in the mines of Northern Canada for 30 some years and those years had not been so kind to him that's for sure. Basically he was a huge German, grizzly in stature and calling him rough on the exterior would be like saying Sarah Jessica Parker is kinda ugly. Ouch. Anyway, since this grizzled man lived in Canada all of his life, his accent was pretty damn thick, his pronunciation of words was odd to me and frankly it was hard for me to hear what he had to say. Keep this point in mind.
We start to talk about the frequency by which he travels. He definitely lives the good life now spending 2 to 3 months in the winter staying in a place in California just for shits and giggles. He's like a goddamn Monarch Butterfly. He begins to talk about his travels in the States and the dialogue goes as follows:
Man - "I drove down through Georgia one time."
Higgy - "Oh really?"
Man - "Yeah. They definitely have strange food there."
Higgy - "Oh really?"
You can definitely tell I was real engaged in this conversation. But this is where the tide turned.
Man - "Yeah. Boiled penis is real popular there."
Higgy - "Uh. Are you serious?"
Man - "Yeah. It's boiled penis but they call it Hot Penis there."
This is where I start to giggle like a gossipy little girl. You probably know where this story is going but unfortunately I was high off of the surplus of oxygen that is up in Mayberry.
Man - "Yeah I tried some. It was different."
Higgy - "You are a brave man. "
Man - "Why?"
Higgy - "I would never try something like that."
Man - "Well I tried it and it definitely wasn't for me."
Higgy - "I don't care if it was boiled, hot, dry, wet or spicy, I would
never put penis in my mouth."
Yes those words came out of my mouth. Keep in mind all of this time my girlfriend is sound asleep.
Man - "But the funny thing is, they have Boiled Penis there but you can't
find peanut butter anywhere down there."
Then it hit my like a ton of fucking bricks etched with the word "Dumbass." The whole time he was saying "peanuts" not "penis." His goddamn thick Canadian accent did not enunciate the "uuhhhtttss" in "peanuts." Why would I think he ate penis? From what animal would said penis come from? I imagined it being the Laffy-Taffy of all animal bi-products and that thought shrouded me from the obvious fact he was talking about peanuts, which by the way I find delicious. However, he did not catch on to my Freudian slip and I was safe from ridicule and an even more awkward moment.
So we finally arrive, exit the vehicle and proceed to the party. I then pulled my girlfriend aside and told her how much of a dumbass I had been and the fact I could never eat peanuts in front of those relatives of her's ever again. Which really pisses me off because a lot of good shit can be made with peanuts. Fuck salt.
Hopefully that is the last time I talk about the insertion of dong into my gob.
No reason for this image besides the fact that I think this guy has had a view dongs inserted into his gob during his few years of life.
2 comments:
You know, violet flax is actually quite lovely. You could choose worse places to have your body dumped.
Sad but true - I also didn't stop to think what animal would contribute 'boiled penis' to our menu. Damn.
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