Intruder Alert (REDUX)

5.1.2018  (first published this week 2001)

I'm just fixin' to leave for work, see, and some car horn starts goin.' I mean it; it started up loud and kept going. I'm sure the car was a big one, too. The horn was beefy: A low, mean rumbling that would probably do well on a boat or a tractor-trailer. One of them horns that the tones varied while held down. It just might deafen children. A bus driver would hear that horn. 

Yeah, so, this thing starts and I'm thinking this guy's a jackass. Whether he's picking someone up and "using the doorbell," or he's berating some dumbass who cut him off he's a jackass. I don't much care for folks who really don't give a crap about other people. This goddamn horn could wake the dead, by god. When the thing doesn't stop, though, I pause. Maybe this guy's not being a dick. Maybe his horn's stuck. (That happened to me once. I won't get into it.) He's had a malfunction and the dang thing's stuck. I'm sure this is the case after a while 'cause it k e e p s g o i n g. No way he's that rude. 

Few minutes later I got my shoes tied and I'm out the door and he's still honking. I actually feel badly for this poor guy who's horn is stuck and is undoubtedly pissing off the entire neighborhood. When I see him I'll give him a nod that says "Sorry yer horn is stuck, dude. I know what it's like." Down on the street I do see him. And you know what? His horn ain't stuck. He's double-parked out in front of the apartment across the street and he's honking for someone to come down. Big 'ol Delta 88 cruising vessel with a navy surplus horn and he's laying on it. Fok. Teach me to give these shitters the benefit of the doubt.

Tonight - Martuni's

(it's been about as long as this venue announcement is old since we've been there for a Thursday night)

News: 5.1.2k1 is upon us and this Venue Announcement is going out only to those subscribed to the list. To hell with the rest of 'em. It'll be a cozy 20-person drinking club from now on.

TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Bus Window Etching

TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: Bobby Allison's crash at Talladega. Today in 1987 Davey Allison won the Winston 500 in Talladega, Alabama. His father Bobby, in the same race, blew a rear tire and his car spetacularly flipped into the grandstand at over 200 mph. The speed of the car was significant in it making it over (through) the retaining wall and fence and into the grandstand. This wreck led to the Introduction of Carburetor Plates in NASCAR Cars. The carburetor plate was NASCAR's answer to cars reaching plus-200 mph speeds, as they restricted the fuel intake of the engine. Our players: Mrs. Alan Chimenti is the racetrack at Talladega, AL; Moss is Bobby Allison, Amy is his car; Kathleen is the carburetor plate; Matt Brown is the retaining fence; and Tama, Jason and Todd are the race fans running for their lives.

TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Rosey. He's subscribed and tele-drink-clubbing.

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!