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 your 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!
