Friday, December 20, 2013

ROBBLOG #519


Dear Readers,
This RobBlog is what you would call a fractured "Fairy Tale"- in more ways than one.
It's not Charles Dickens but it has a chuckle or two. Enjoy and Happy Holidays and thanks for reading.
R*  
 
 
It was half past three when Jimmy-Joe-Bob- a rather handsome and husky lad, stomped the snow off his winter boots- size 12’s, as he came in the back door.
 
“Did you get those pigs into the barn Jimmy-Joe-Bob”?
It was Mama’s voice echoing from the fancy parlour at the front of the house where she was untangling electric light sets.  A tree stood proudly in the front window. She planned on winding the strings around the branches of the seven foot Nova Scotia Balsam Pine before supper.
 
Jimmy-Joe-Bob walked into the parlour. He stood with hands bookending his trim, taut waist.
“Yes, Mama. The pigs are in the barn but Mama, why in Christmas Bells does the barn have to be so far away from the house?”
Jimmy-Joe-Bob sounded pissed.
 
“Now Jimmy-Joe-Bob you mind your blankety-blank language or I’ll take my curling iron to you testicles
and...and… throw you and your nuts out into a snowbank- all nekked, just to cool ‘em off. You know very well your father built the barn fer away from the house so the pigstank didn’t waft through our windows on hot summer days.
 
“Yes Mama. I know that but still it’s a good hike”- said Jimmy-Joe-Bob all whiney-like. “So when’s Daddy coming home?”
 
“I’m not quite sure. He phoned an hour ago and said he was thinking about givin’ his whore a good workout before he caught the bus home. Sure hope he makes it home before it starts to snow.”
 
Jimmy-Joe-Bob paused for a second and then asked his Mama if he had some time to himself before dinner.
 
“Yes, Dear. Of course. Why don’t you climb those stairs to that cozy attic room of yours and leaf through the underwear section of that Eaton’s catalogue you got stuffed under yer mattress. Take a gander at all them fine men on pages 345 through to and including page 352. You might find yourself a husband.
 
“A what?”- chimed Jimmy-Joe-Bob.
 
“Now, a wee bit of wrist exercise would do you a world of good. You always seem to be in a much more pleasurable mood after you’ve turned your…!”
 
“Mama!  For Gooness sake!
Jimmy-Joe-Bob was all red in the face yet he distinctly felt some stirring in this loins below.
 
“I was about to say turned your pages in them music books!”- smiled Mama.
 
“I’m sure you were.” Billy-Joe-Bob didn’t sound convinced.
 
“Oh Hush now. Go play with yourself on your piano. Listen, I hear’d one of the boys talking down at the Riteway Grocery store last week when I was buying brown sugar for my apple crisp. I hear’d them say they’d seen you nekked in the shower over at school the day before and….well, by the way they were talking, every single one of them was highly impressed with your member and terribly ashamed that they all had much smaller…”
 
“Dick Kensington!” Jimmy-Joe-Bob interjected quickly-like.” Dick Kensington, he’s in my home form room and I wrestle with him Tuesday and Thursdays. That’s who you probably heard talking about me being all nekked.”
 
Mama sighed- “Well…yes...perhaps but all the same, it sure sounded like he’d be real happy to put his cow into your barn!”
 
Jimmy-Joe-Bob was taken aback with in surprize!
“Jesus wept! We don’t have any cows Mama!”
 

“It was just a figure of speech.”
She laughed.
 
Jimmy-Joe-Bob was feeling embarrassed about- yet proud, of his stalwart member. He had seen the boys in the shower room pointing and staring the other day.
Some with lust in their eyes.
Some with disgust.
Still others, with yardsticks in their hands.
On that very day- of which his Mama was referring to- right after wrestling practise and showering naked, all the boys went downtown to Ike Handy’s  magazine shop where Ike had just put in a line of new adult toys- especially for Christmas!
 
Mama was glad she could speak in such a forthright manner to her son. Jimmy-Joe-Bob had grown into a real choice bit of beef. His body has grown hard and muscular and his pectorals were blanketed with a thick mat of wiry, jet-black chest hair. My, how the boys were gonna go for him once he finished high school! At least Mama hoped he’d take after the boys and not wind up with some “jay-jay” obsessed trollop who’d treat her son unkindly and “Jay-Jay whip him” for the rest of his life. Oh how she hoped for a Gay son. It would be the answer to her prayers! After all Jessie Pouter- the town gossip, had one and that’s all she could talk about these days. That prissy, fat-assed son of hers- Brian, who had just recently come out after Senior Bible Class one Sunday morning in late November.
 
Jimmy-Joe-Bob turned from his Mama and headed for the stairs with visions of Hugh Jackman dancing in his head- although he didn’t quite know why. Heat was rising up steadily from his Calvin Cline bikini briefs.
 
“Oh Jimmy-Joe-Bob. Hold on a second. Before you go up there and commence pleasuring…”
 
“Mama. Please!”
 
“..before you start pleasuring your ears with a holiday tune or two, I was wondering if you’d do me a favour. You see, I’ve decided to put up another tree in the family room this year. Before you start pleasuring yerself, can you go and get yer Grandpa from the basement and head over to Prissy-Sue Weiner’s place?”
Mama was still unwrapping a set of lights she had picked from the pile on the back of the chesterfield, where the strings lay in mangled clusters.”
 
“Sure. But what am I gonna do at Prissy Sue’s Mama?” Jimmy-Joe-Bob was perplexed. Right nicely hung but perplexed all the same.
 
“Well I am getting to that! I want you and Grandpa to cut down that huge spruce that sits yonder in her front yard?”
 
“Well why didn’t you say so? I’ll go downstairs and get Grandpa.” He paused for a second.
“Prissy’s okay with us chopping down that tree- right?”
Mama didn’t answer. She started to sing Silent Night in as loud a voice as she could muster.
 
As Jimmy-Joe-Bob pranced towards the basement steps Mama thought about Prissy and how every Christmas she bragged and bragged about her Applecake.
“Huh!”- thought Mama, “Too much nutmeg for my taste!”
 
Grandpa lived in a little hole in the wall next to the furnace in the basement. Jimmy-Joe-Bob rapped on the wall next to the hole and in a minute or two Grandpa crawled out. Jimmy-Joe-Bob told Grandpa about Prissy’s tree and in a few minutes they were walking down the street towards the Weiner’s Place.
Jimmy-Joe-Bob had slung a big, heavy axe over his broad, mannish shoulders.
 
“Don’t prick yourself with that axe!”- said Grandpa nervously as they walked along side by side. The snow was gently falling on the cedars lining the street.
It wasn’t long before they came to the huge Weiner property. Grandpa pointed to the lofty spruce in the north-west end of Prissy’s yard.
“There she is boy. That’s yer tree!”
“Wow Grandpa, that’s a big one!”
“It sure is boy. It sure is! I’ve been keeping my eye on it ever since Prissy planted it! Now hurry before she comes home from work and catches us.”
Grandpa smiled as he glanced over towards Jimmy-Joe-Bob, seeing the huge bulge in the front of the boy’s Wrangler jeans. He watched Jimmy-Joe-Bob walk towards the evergreen and saw that the boy had that all-too-familiar gate, as if he had a huge sausage stuffed down the front of  his blue jeans, impeding each step.”
 
Jimmy-Joe-Bob had screamed like a little girl in his Grandpa’s direction.
“Wow what a beaut! I’ll have this down in a jiff!”
As he started to swing the axe at the Weiner’s tree he looked over his left shoulder towards Grandpa.
As he did so, he could see his shoulder muscles twist this way and that under his pinky-red sweatercoat.
“Grandpa, do you think they’ll mind us taking this tree down?”
 
“Naw.”- said Grandpa, “They’re wieners. Just the same though, I’d appreciate you picking up the pace some, what with you wearing that sweatercoat and all. It’s kinda Gay!”
 
“What’s that Grandpa? What day? Why it’s almost Christmas Day!” Jimmy-Joe-Bob continued to chew away at the Weiner’s trunk.
 
In a few minutes, Grandpa and Jimmy-Joe-Bob were dragging the big ole spruce back home.
Once inside the house, Jimmy Joe-Bob called out to his Mama-
“Is this big enough for you?”
Mama sized it up and was pleased with what she saw. She stood and glared at the sturdy-looking trunk.
“Mama! Not my trunk! The tree and its huge trunk. Is it big enough for you?”
 
Grandpa snickered.
 
“Oh. Yes. Uh…Right. The tree trunk. My, it is a big one!” Mama gushed as she sat on the chesterfield with several strings of Christmas lights in her lap and a lit Export A- unfiltered, between her long, boney fingers.
 

Grandpa snickered and coughed even more loudly.
“It’s really big- as you can see. Nothing like a big Weiner of a tree, Livia!”
He called her Livia because that was her name.
 
“Say when did you start smoking Livvy? Those things can kill ya- don’t you know.”
Livia looked down at the ciggie smoking away between her fingers.
“Oh, it’s just something I saw in a Swedish film and I thought I’d see what it was like. It makes me look younger- don’t ya think? Smoking I mean.”
 
“Nah. Throw it away. You don’t need any of that stuff. If you wanna suck on something try…”
 
“Grandpa!” Jimmy-Joe-Bob yelled knowing full well the direction that Grandpa’s comment would eventually take! “Enough already.”
 
Livvy smiled her broad smile, looking up at Grandpa through a blue haze of cigarette smoke as he was about to speak. She snuffed the cigarette out on the edge of the coffee table.
 
“Aw you need to relax Son. Anyway, I’m going to head back into my hole now. I’m going to watch a Corner Gas marathon on the TV.”
“See ya later!”- said Livia, “You coming up outta that hole of yers for dinner Grandpa?”
“Give me a call when it’s ready Livvy.”
With that Grandpa disappeared down the stairs and back into his hole.
 
“Mama, if you don’t need me, I have an underwear catalogue to browse through and a piano keys to pound, remember?”
 
“I git yer drift Son.” Mama winked at Billy-Joe-Bob as she pulled a knot from a string of coloured lights on her lap.
 
Jimmy-Joe Bob turned on the spot, heaved a heavy sigh and with a smile on his face and a noticeable bulge in his jeans, headed upstairs to his cozy, little attic room.
 
“Have fun Jimmy-Joe-Bob”- called Mama, “and remember if you play with it hard enough…”
 
Jimmy-Joe-Bob interrupted her-
“I know Mama. I know. If I play with it hard enough the neighbours next door will hear the piano too.”
 
Mama smiled broadly as she continued unwinding the light strings on her lap. As she did so, she thought about lighting up another smoke. She also thought about Christmas Day and smellin’ that Turkey roastin’ in the oven!
 
 
 

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