Southpaw Jones

First Lines
Introductions to classic works I will never finish:

“Graceful was not the word for her. Cosmopolitan didn’t seem apt either. She was clean, I can tell you that. Clean as a whistle.”

Stan was once again going on and on about the girl who blew up his cat.

“You could eat sushi off her shoulder blade, she was so clean. And I did, brotha, many a time.”

“I don’t doubt that you did,” I said half-heartedly. “You wanna see a movie? Maybe that CGI thing about domestic animals in their own junior high school?”

“What, ‘Spayed and Tutored’? That looks so lame! And how could you suggest that after…aw, man, I was really on a solid streak of not thinking about it!”

No, he wasn’t. He thought about it all the time. The day his girlfriend disappeared. The same day he found a cat’s collar in a pool of blood and tabby fur on his driveway. The day he frantically cleaned off that tag to reveal the cat’s name and affirm his worst fears. “Tramposo.”

“I lost Tramposo and Jezzie on the same day, brotha. You can’t fault me for being upset, ‘cause it’s only been two weeks.”

“I know, man, I know.”

“She killed him! She always hated him! Hated our relationship. What was I supposed to do, love this girlfriend of two months more than the cat I grew up with? The cat that taught me how to drive? The cat who…”

“C’mon, man! Taught you to drive? That’s ridiculous!”

“Well, parallel park, at least! You know how special he was to me. Why couldn’t she just break up with me and leave town without destroying my precious pet? Why couldn’t they just get along?”

The truth was, they did get along. They got along very, very well, and they only fought in front of Stan to keep him unsuspicious of their sordid affair.

When Jezzie came to me in tears, asking “How can I move to Georgia without him?” I thought she was talking about Stan. But no, she had come to love Tramposo deeply, and he was ready for a change, too. For eleven years, Stan had pet him from tail to head, tail to head, the exact wrong way to hold a cat’s affection.

So, yes, I admit to you, fair reader, that I helped Trampozo and Jezzie in their plot to leave town together. I got the blood from the butcher shop, I brought some charcoal from my garage, I charred the collar on my grill, and I shaved a good chunk of Trampozo’s hind quarters, all to give Stan some sense of closure. Some tasty drama in his dull little life. A good story to tell.

But it was backfiring on me this day. Stan would just not stop talking about it. So I tuned him out, closed my eyes, and pictured Jezzie and Trampozo in the back of a Greyhound bus in the middle of America. His head in her lap. Her face pressed to the window. Trees whipping by. A rural scene made impressionist painting by the speed. The freedom. They said I could come spend a weekend at their bed & breakfast once they get it up and running.

Sitting next to this dolt on the curb, I can’t think of anything better.

And Another Thing…
More verbosity with velocity and viscosity:

Yesterday, I posted some actual search strings that led people to The Southpaw Jones Fun Time Gazette. Today, I have some February searches from my other site, southpawjones.com:

• boy with no socks
• naked grandma
• tennessee xylophone
• Satan Letter
• a boy wear white socks
• creator of bungee cords
• hollywood walk of fame stars
• shoes no socks
• tasteful nude video
• texas bedroom

Online Museum of the Week
etchasketchist.blogspot.com/” target=new>The Etch-A-Sketchist :

Soup Can

Quotopia
Freshly-picked quotes from the ol’ reference collection:

Sometimes I wonder if men and women really suit each other. Perhaps they should live next door and just visit now and then.
Katharine Hepburn

Fool Around Friday
Silly games for silly times:

Justice Antonin Scalia Bobblehead
Go on, click on the pic for a supreme bobble! Found here.

Thank you, come again!
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