Lord Long Rod
Diamond Member
- Jan 17, 2023
- 7,706
- 8,130
- 2,138
- Banned
- #1
Me and old Clint were on the way to our hunting camp on this here particular Friday afternoon. I was riding with Clint this weekend on account of the fact that the goddamn finance company repossessed my Dodge Charger last week. So we piled up inta Clintâs big old F-650 work truck fer the trip.
I had the old boy pull into the âCrash-N-Burn Liquor Storeâ to pick us up some adult beverages for the long ride out to the camp. Clint said, âWell, ok. But you knowd I cainât drink and drive. The judge sed ifân I up an git me anutha DUI he is gonna take my license and put my ass in the county lock up.â I asked, âHell, boy, how many them thar drunk drivin tickets yaâll got now?â Clinton said he has 7 DUIs. I sed, âHell, Clint, that thar ainât that damn bad.â Then Clint clarified that he has gotten 7 DUI charges THIS YEAR, so farâŚ
I told old Clint, âWell fuck, Clint. Just donât drink a whilst ya is driving. Mount sum self-control, ya sloppy motherfucker! I want me a beer!!â Clint pulled up through the drive-thru winder of that thar licker store. I bought 3 cases of Pabst Blue Ribbon, a half gallon of Jack, a pack of turkey jerky, and the latest issue of âFat Tittiesâ. The beer wuz cold so I popped one them thar sumbitches open as soon as we pulled outa thar. I asked old Clint, âYou want a beer, boy?â He replied, âShit yeah!!! Gimmee one of them sumbitches!!â We then put some Conway Twitty on that old radio/cassette contraption and headed off, anticipating a relaxing weekend of deer huntin and drankin!
I eventually had to take over driving duties from old Clint. He got hisself so gall-danged sloshed up that he up and t-boned a school bus droppin the lil crumb-crushers off at home. To make matters worse, it were one of them thar short busses. Old Clint panicked, crying âOh Sheeyit!! What we gonna do?!? What we gonna do?!?â I slapped the old sumbitch across his face and sed, âWe is gonna git!!! So letâs gitâŚNOW!!!!â
Old Clint floored it, drove us into a ditch, then launched us plum airborn!! I grabbed the steering wheel and righted the ship, pointing us down the highway, but not before we took out a couple garbage cans and a few mailboxes! After we wuz outa sight of that damned old school bus, I got Clint to pull over on the side of the road so we could change places and I could drive.
Now, admittedly, I were 3 sheets in the wind myself, having started on that bottle of Jack a half hour ago. But at least I werenât hittin school chilluns! Clint got all kinds of upset at me fer takin over driving duties, so I let him git his old 7mm mag out so he hunt frum the truck until we got to camp. He managed to git him an old possum and a milk cow along the way, which made him feel a spell better.
We finally made it to camp at round midnight. Being that I were so lit up I got us lost over thar in Sasquatch County, whar we eventually ended up at a Dairy Queen which also ran a cooter den out back. Neither old Clint er me could git our old old Jimmies up though cuz we wuz so inebriated.
So weâuns rolled inta camp round the witchin hour. And my Lord!!! What a sight we up and dun seen when we got thar!!! Old Clint and I had dun sobered up a bit after enduring the humiliation of not being able to fuck them old injun Dairy Queen whoowahs back thar. Oh, the taunts and shame we felt!! But even if we dun still been hammered drunk, the sight we happened upon when we pulled into deer camp woulda set us straight, I tell ya what!!
There at the old camp fire were our club brothers, old Cletus, Big Mac, and Eighty-eight, the club president. They wuz aâstanding thar looking down at another club member layinâ on the ground. Upon closer examination, the man on the ground were brother Wild Bill frum Doraville. And he were buck-ass nekkid!!
I asked old 88 what the hell were going on. He said âThis here sumbitch dun up and turned hisself into a WOMAN!!!â I figured he were pulling my laig. So I demanded to know what the meaning of this here ghastly sight were. 88 said, âGoddamnit!! I dun told ya!! This here sumbitch dun made hisself a woman! Look!! See fer yerself!!â
Old 88 was pointing to Billâs crotch. I squinted my eyes in the dim light and looked. I wuz simultaneously perplexed and confused. I pulled out my old dime store specs, put âem on my face and moved in fer a closer look. After a moment I took off my glasses, looked up at old 88, and sed, âI donât see nothing.â Old 88 replied, âThatâs the fucking point, man!!! He ainât got no pecker no more!! He dun up an cut if OFF!!!!â
I looked again. It were true. Old Wild Bill no longer had an intact tallywacker. It werenât ripped off either, like what ya see when thar been sum sort of farm equipment accident either. No sir! He dun had it surgically removed. I was at a loss fer words.
Suddenly, old Cletus spoke up. âIt were the goddamned âhard ciderâ shit heâs bin drankin! It dun up and turned him QUEER!!!â, he said. Big Mac was looking at his feet and shakin his head. Old 88 said, âLook, we donât exactly knowd what happened here. Maybe them damned grays been experimenting with Bill again. Hell, maybe they dun up and scrambled his brain and he dun it to hisself.â
Old Bill had been unconscious through all of this here conversation. He was knocked out when we got thar, in fact. Hell, I jest assumed he were dead. Therefore, you can imagine my shock I got when old Bill started moving. âOh shit!!! Heâs aâcoming back to life!! Kill that sumbitch!!! Heâs a fucking zombie!!!â, I exclaimed.
88 looked at me and sed, âHe ainât no zombie, you stupid sumbitch! He were jest knocked out.â I wuz immediately relieved. Hell, man, I were a hundert miles as the crow flies frum my post-apocalyptic shelter!! Then 88 told me the back story.
It seemed that the boys had been sitting round the camp far earlier in the evening dranking, cooking beans, and dranking. Old Wild Bill then told the boys he needed to tell them sumthang important. He told them he were transistoring into a woman and that from now on he wanted to be called âWillamenaâ. Well sir, everbody got âem a good laugh, they figuring old Wild Bill were jest kidding with them. Then Billy got pissed and took his britches and drawers down to show âem his new womanly physique. The boysâ jaws dropped.
Old Cletus, who always carries his old Hawg laig, a .44 maggum, loaded and in hand, finger on the trigger, accidentally squeezed off a round as he stared in shock. The bullet whizzed by Billâs head, causing him to stumble, fall, and hit his head on a rock, knocking him unconscious. When old Clint and I came rolling in the boys were debating whether to put him outa his misery and finish him off.
âGood gawd, 88!!!!â, I dun did sed, âYou wuz gonna MURDER him?!?!â 88 replied curtly, âNo sir! I wuz gonna put him out of his misery!â I dun did thunk on it fer a moment then sed, âOk. I can see thatâ. 88 nodded to me. But it were all were fer naught cuz old Bill were awakin up.
Old Bill got to his feet and sed âGODDAMNIT, CLETUS!!! YOU NEARLY KILLED ME!!!â Thinking on his feet, old Cletus shot back, âWELL YOU CUT YOUR DING DONG OFF!!! HOW DID YA THINK WE WUZ GONNA REACT?!?â The tension wuz so thick yaâll could cut it with a knife. But then things quickly changed.
See, old Wild Bill commenced to explaining how his becoming a skirt were a good thang fer the whole club. See, Bill contended that once his transition is complete he would be coming to camp all dolled up like a real woman, with a cooter hole to boot. âUh ohâ, I thought to myself. I knew whar this wuz aâheadinâ, and I wanted no part of this here. I announced that I wuz going to bed, and that I were gonna be sleepinâ in Clintâs truck tonight, doors locked.
I turned and walked away from the boys and toward the truck. All of a sudden I heard a loud gunshot ring out. âBLAMMMM!!!!!â My first thought wuz, âOh shit!! They dun killed Bill!! I mean, Willomena!!!â But when I turned to see what happened, it were old Clint layinâ on the ground. All this here talk of penis loppin and dabbling im the devilâs domain weâre jest too much fer old Clint to bear. So he pulled out his old .45 and blew his own head off!!
As we all stared at Clintâs corpse in horror of what jest transpired, we dun heard the po-leece sirens. In an instant, the swat boys were on top of us!!! It seems they wuz after old Clint fer rammingâ that special needs school bus earlier in the evening.
Well sir, them old Johnny Law types kept us up all night with their questions and paperwerk and bullshit. The worst part wuz that they didnât let us drank any!! Those rat bastards!!!
It were a pretty open and shut case, though. It seems old Clint, a habitual drunk driver, crashed into a school bus full of lil chilluns on the way to huntin camp, then felt so bad about it that he offed hisself frum the guilt. One cop, Officer Prickface, asked me point blank, âWhen Clint arrived here at deer camp, was he alone?â I dun looked that sumbitch in the eye an sed, âYes he was.â
That seemed to bother the pig, as it did not conform to eyewitness reports from the scene of the accident. I said, âWell hell, Officer. You sed he hit one of them thar short buses. Them thar water heads cainât tell thar ass from a hole in the ground, ya know?â The cop pondered on this a moment, obviously unable to discount my wise old country boy logic, and sed âYeah, you are probably right.â
Eventually, them pigs left, and it were time to hunt! However, being without no alkyhall fer the last 6 hours, we all dun got us a powerful case of the shakes. Old 88âs trigger hand looked as if it had a case of the catalytic seizures!! So we all deecided that we better git to drankinâ right fast like so at least we can hit the woods in the afternoon.
It werenât long before we fergot bout Old Wild Billâs cock detachment and were aâsangin along to Conway Twitty cassette tapes being played on 88âs old VWâs stereo. Thangs got a lil blurry after that. My next mammary wuz wakin up in Old Wild Billâs tent and seein that old boy wearing my drawers on his head and 88 layinâ on top of both of us, bare ass nekkid. Thank God fer the alkyhall! It dulls the pain and fades the mammories.
I had the old boy pull into the âCrash-N-Burn Liquor Storeâ to pick us up some adult beverages for the long ride out to the camp. Clint said, âWell, ok. But you knowd I cainât drink and drive. The judge sed ifân I up an git me anutha DUI he is gonna take my license and put my ass in the county lock up.â I asked, âHell, boy, how many them thar drunk drivin tickets yaâll got now?â Clinton said he has 7 DUIs. I sed, âHell, Clint, that thar ainât that damn bad.â Then Clint clarified that he has gotten 7 DUI charges THIS YEAR, so farâŚ
I told old Clint, âWell fuck, Clint. Just donât drink a whilst ya is driving. Mount sum self-control, ya sloppy motherfucker! I want me a beer!!â Clint pulled up through the drive-thru winder of that thar licker store. I bought 3 cases of Pabst Blue Ribbon, a half gallon of Jack, a pack of turkey jerky, and the latest issue of âFat Tittiesâ. The beer wuz cold so I popped one them thar sumbitches open as soon as we pulled outa thar. I asked old Clint, âYou want a beer, boy?â He replied, âShit yeah!!! Gimmee one of them sumbitches!!â We then put some Conway Twitty on that old radio/cassette contraption and headed off, anticipating a relaxing weekend of deer huntin and drankin!
I eventually had to take over driving duties from old Clint. He got hisself so gall-danged sloshed up that he up and t-boned a school bus droppin the lil crumb-crushers off at home. To make matters worse, it were one of them thar short busses. Old Clint panicked, crying âOh Sheeyit!! What we gonna do?!? What we gonna do?!?â I slapped the old sumbitch across his face and sed, âWe is gonna git!!! So letâs gitâŚNOW!!!!â
Old Clint floored it, drove us into a ditch, then launched us plum airborn!! I grabbed the steering wheel and righted the ship, pointing us down the highway, but not before we took out a couple garbage cans and a few mailboxes! After we wuz outa sight of that damned old school bus, I got Clint to pull over on the side of the road so we could change places and I could drive.
Now, admittedly, I were 3 sheets in the wind myself, having started on that bottle of Jack a half hour ago. But at least I werenât hittin school chilluns! Clint got all kinds of upset at me fer takin over driving duties, so I let him git his old 7mm mag out so he hunt frum the truck until we got to camp. He managed to git him an old possum and a milk cow along the way, which made him feel a spell better.
We finally made it to camp at round midnight. Being that I were so lit up I got us lost over thar in Sasquatch County, whar we eventually ended up at a Dairy Queen which also ran a cooter den out back. Neither old Clint er me could git our old old Jimmies up though cuz we wuz so inebriated.
So weâuns rolled inta camp round the witchin hour. And my Lord!!! What a sight we up and dun seen when we got thar!!! Old Clint and I had dun sobered up a bit after enduring the humiliation of not being able to fuck them old injun Dairy Queen whoowahs back thar. Oh, the taunts and shame we felt!! But even if we dun still been hammered drunk, the sight we happened upon when we pulled into deer camp woulda set us straight, I tell ya what!!
There at the old camp fire were our club brothers, old Cletus, Big Mac, and Eighty-eight, the club president. They wuz aâstanding thar looking down at another club member layinâ on the ground. Upon closer examination, the man on the ground were brother Wild Bill frum Doraville. And he were buck-ass nekkid!!
I asked old 88 what the hell were going on. He said âThis here sumbitch dun up and turned hisself into a WOMAN!!!â I figured he were pulling my laig. So I demanded to know what the meaning of this here ghastly sight were. 88 said, âGoddamnit!! I dun told ya!! This here sumbitch dun made hisself a woman! Look!! See fer yerself!!â
Old 88 was pointing to Billâs crotch. I squinted my eyes in the dim light and looked. I wuz simultaneously perplexed and confused. I pulled out my old dime store specs, put âem on my face and moved in fer a closer look. After a moment I took off my glasses, looked up at old 88, and sed, âI donât see nothing.â Old 88 replied, âThatâs the fucking point, man!!! He ainât got no pecker no more!! He dun up an cut if OFF!!!!â
I looked again. It were true. Old Wild Bill no longer had an intact tallywacker. It werenât ripped off either, like what ya see when thar been sum sort of farm equipment accident either. No sir! He dun had it surgically removed. I was at a loss fer words.
Suddenly, old Cletus spoke up. âIt were the goddamned âhard ciderâ shit heâs bin drankin! It dun up and turned him QUEER!!!â, he said. Big Mac was looking at his feet and shakin his head. Old 88 said, âLook, we donât exactly knowd what happened here. Maybe them damned grays been experimenting with Bill again. Hell, maybe they dun up and scrambled his brain and he dun it to hisself.â
Old Bill had been unconscious through all of this here conversation. He was knocked out when we got thar, in fact. Hell, I jest assumed he were dead. Therefore, you can imagine my shock I got when old Bill started moving. âOh shit!!! Heâs aâcoming back to life!! Kill that sumbitch!!! Heâs a fucking zombie!!!â, I exclaimed.
88 looked at me and sed, âHe ainât no zombie, you stupid sumbitch! He were jest knocked out.â I wuz immediately relieved. Hell, man, I were a hundert miles as the crow flies frum my post-apocalyptic shelter!! Then 88 told me the back story.
It seemed that the boys had been sitting round the camp far earlier in the evening dranking, cooking beans, and dranking. Old Wild Bill then told the boys he needed to tell them sumthang important. He told them he were transistoring into a woman and that from now on he wanted to be called âWillamenaâ. Well sir, everbody got âem a good laugh, they figuring old Wild Bill were jest kidding with them. Then Billy got pissed and took his britches and drawers down to show âem his new womanly physique. The boysâ jaws dropped.
Old Cletus, who always carries his old Hawg laig, a .44 maggum, loaded and in hand, finger on the trigger, accidentally squeezed off a round as he stared in shock. The bullet whizzed by Billâs head, causing him to stumble, fall, and hit his head on a rock, knocking him unconscious. When old Clint and I came rolling in the boys were debating whether to put him outa his misery and finish him off.
âGood gawd, 88!!!!â, I dun did sed, âYou wuz gonna MURDER him?!?!â 88 replied curtly, âNo sir! I wuz gonna put him out of his misery!â I dun did thunk on it fer a moment then sed, âOk. I can see thatâ. 88 nodded to me. But it were all were fer naught cuz old Bill were awakin up.
Old Bill got to his feet and sed âGODDAMNIT, CLETUS!!! YOU NEARLY KILLED ME!!!â Thinking on his feet, old Cletus shot back, âWELL YOU CUT YOUR DING DONG OFF!!! HOW DID YA THINK WE WUZ GONNA REACT?!?â The tension wuz so thick yaâll could cut it with a knife. But then things quickly changed.
See, old Wild Bill commenced to explaining how his becoming a skirt were a good thang fer the whole club. See, Bill contended that once his transition is complete he would be coming to camp all dolled up like a real woman, with a cooter hole to boot. âUh ohâ, I thought to myself. I knew whar this wuz aâheadinâ, and I wanted no part of this here. I announced that I wuz going to bed, and that I were gonna be sleepinâ in Clintâs truck tonight, doors locked.
I turned and walked away from the boys and toward the truck. All of a sudden I heard a loud gunshot ring out. âBLAMMMM!!!!!â My first thought wuz, âOh shit!! They dun killed Bill!! I mean, Willomena!!!â But when I turned to see what happened, it were old Clint layinâ on the ground. All this here talk of penis loppin and dabbling im the devilâs domain weâre jest too much fer old Clint to bear. So he pulled out his old .45 and blew his own head off!!
As we all stared at Clintâs corpse in horror of what jest transpired, we dun heard the po-leece sirens. In an instant, the swat boys were on top of us!!! It seems they wuz after old Clint fer rammingâ that special needs school bus earlier in the evening.
Well sir, them old Johnny Law types kept us up all night with their questions and paperwerk and bullshit. The worst part wuz that they didnât let us drank any!! Those rat bastards!!!
It were a pretty open and shut case, though. It seems old Clint, a habitual drunk driver, crashed into a school bus full of lil chilluns on the way to huntin camp, then felt so bad about it that he offed hisself frum the guilt. One cop, Officer Prickface, asked me point blank, âWhen Clint arrived here at deer camp, was he alone?â I dun looked that sumbitch in the eye an sed, âYes he was.â
That seemed to bother the pig, as it did not conform to eyewitness reports from the scene of the accident. I said, âWell hell, Officer. You sed he hit one of them thar short buses. Them thar water heads cainât tell thar ass from a hole in the ground, ya know?â The cop pondered on this a moment, obviously unable to discount my wise old country boy logic, and sed âYeah, you are probably right.â
Eventually, them pigs left, and it were time to hunt! However, being without no alkyhall fer the last 6 hours, we all dun got us a powerful case of the shakes. Old 88âs trigger hand looked as if it had a case of the catalytic seizures!! So we all deecided that we better git to drankinâ right fast like so at least we can hit the woods in the afternoon.
It werenât long before we fergot bout Old Wild Billâs cock detachment and were aâsangin along to Conway Twitty cassette tapes being played on 88âs old VWâs stereo. Thangs got a lil blurry after that. My next mammary wuz wakin up in Old Wild Billâs tent and seein that old boy wearing my drawers on his head and 88 layinâ on top of both of us, bare ass nekkid. Thank God fer the alkyhall! It dulls the pain and fades the mammories.