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Ain't Your Kemosabe
My name is Winfred (Winnie) Pooh. Retired DoorDash manure entrepreneur. We were rocking and spitting. Jockeying for good seating at the Feed and Grain store. In the parking lot I pulled up my Harley with a sidecar attached. We were like most folks, mooning the summer solstice and my betroth was skinny dipping in the piano. It was full of the runoff from a turnip patch.
Betrothing takes a lot out of a person when the pacemaker is running on half empty. Not only that but I was embarrassed when Wynken, Blinky and Nod wanted to have foursome at Motel 6. They are sisters and soon to be kinfolks.
***
"Good evening sir. Do you have a reservation?"
"What!"
Wyken, Blinky and Nod simultaneously told the clerk that I was partially deaf. They came off as the Andrew Sisters. I told them to ac-cent-tchu-ate the positive.
"GOOD EVENING SIR. DO YOU HAVE A RESERVATION?"
"I'm half Johnnie Walker! Do l look like Tonto and I ain't your friggin' Kemosabe?"
Nod told me he was only doing his job and to be nice.
"Bring ice! Don't they have a machine. What's that's Gecko doing on the front desk?"
"PLEASE DON'T TOUCH THE ALIGATO...Aw shit, look at all the blood. You have to E-lim-i-nate the negative and latch on to the affirmative."
"It just bit my frigging finger off. Where is my finger."
Nod said, "Oh God! Its in the aquarium."
"WHAT?"
"IT'S IN THE AQUAIRUM."
"What doe's Aquarius have to do with my finger."
The clerk told the alligator to apologize to the nice man. He then tried to cauterized my finger with a Zippo lighter, but the water in the aquarium put out the flame.
I knew I was dealing with a complete Cheeto.
"Cauterize the fucking stump, not the finger."
***
The four of us were naked on the top of the bed in a state of mass confusion. The valve implant on my testicles was leaking air as fast as Wynken could pump the bicycle pump. I suggested that one of the three called down to the desk. Perhaps NASA might help.
The desk clerk said that Nassau was a long distance phone call.
Betrothing takes a lot out of a person when the pacemaker is running on half empty. Not only that but I was embarrassed when Wynken, Blinky and Nod wanted to have foursome at Motel 6. They are sisters and soon to be kinfolks.
***
"Good evening sir. Do you have a reservation?"
"What!"
Wyken, Blinky and Nod simultaneously told the clerk that I was partially deaf. They came off as the Andrew Sisters. I told them to ac-cent-tchu-ate the positive.
"GOOD EVENING SIR. DO YOU HAVE A RESERVATION?"
"I'm half Johnnie Walker! Do l look like Tonto and I ain't your friggin' Kemosabe?"
Nod told me he was only doing his job and to be nice.
"Bring ice! Don't they have a machine. What's that's Gecko doing on the front desk?"
"PLEASE DON'T TOUCH THE ALIGATO...Aw shit, look at all the blood. You have to E-lim-i-nate the negative and latch on to the affirmative."
"It just bit my frigging finger off. Where is my finger."
Nod said, "Oh God! Its in the aquarium."
"WHAT?"
"IT'S IN THE AQUAIRUM."
"What doe's Aquarius have to do with my finger."
The clerk told the alligator to apologize to the nice man. He then tried to cauterized my finger with a Zippo lighter, but the water in the aquarium put out the flame.
I knew I was dealing with a complete Cheeto.
"Cauterize the fucking stump, not the finger."
***
The four of us were naked on the top of the bed in a state of mass confusion. The valve implant on my testicles was leaking air as fast as Wynken could pump the bicycle pump. I suggested that one of the three called down to the desk. Perhaps NASA might help.
The desk clerk said that Nassau was a long distance phone call.
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