Friday, July 1, 2011

Low Class

Pussle Gut walks into my shop this morning, no hello or how are you; he's out of breath.

He yells, "Stephen I gotta problem and I need your help."

Pussle Gut is about sixty-five, graying hair and a belly that proceeds him into any room he enters. I don't dislike him but he makes it awful hard to stand in his presence for any length of time, that kind.

"What's the problem?"

"You know Ramrod, don't 'ya." I nod yes. "He's in the hospital 'bout to die and I need your advice."

All I think is why me.

"Look, he continues, you know his has those nice handguns, 'bout six Glocks and a couple of nice Smiths, and that 'ole long barreled .357 magnum. Well, I need you to tell me how to approach 'em so's I can buy 'em 'fore he dies." 

I released a long sigh....then, "Pussle Gut (he hates it when I refer to that way) leave them alone."

"Now by God you know that sorry-assed kid of his is just gonna get 'em and pawn the heck out of those nice guns, he'll let 'em go for nothing."

"It's none of you business, leave them alone." Respect and the lack of tack are terms he wouldn't understand, so I didn't bother explaining.

"No, dammit I won't leave 'em alone, 'taint right."

His face is flushed and a light bead of sweat worked its way down his cheek. I waited a slow count of six, took a step towards him and said, "Get out of my shop, please."

Low class tacky butthole.

He did. He hereby receives the first ever 'Bucket of Sash Weights Award.'

Please folks, don't make me hand out any more awards. Thank you.



  1. I have 16 more sash weights if you need them.

  2. Thanks, Sharon, I might take you up on the offer, could use them.

  3. Although I don't agree with him, he sadly makes a good point. When my grandfather died last year (and even before he died), my family would go through my grandparents house like they owned it, taking a mental inventory so they can sell all of their stuff on ebay. My grandmother is still alive at 92, and they ask her why she won't die. It's truly sad. Whenever we go to visit, she gives us more and more of her stuff, because she knows we won't go sell it for a fast buck.

    I'm hanging onto the Waterford ashtray with the US Senate seal on the bottom. And I am the only one to know where the safe is.

  4. Mudbug, that is indeed sad, sorry.

  5. When my grandmother on my fathers side passed, my cousins looted the place in the twinkling of an eye . She had a first generation Colt Peacemaker that belonged to my grandfather. They pawned it for $300.00 and did not redeem it. When I go, everything goes to my son and daughter, and my wife if she is still living.

  6. Arsenius, that's a shame. Like you I have made advance plans. When I pass all of my estate passes to my wife, then my granddaughter.

  7. "low class tacky butthole"

    Now THAT'S funny right there. Can you make that into a bumper sticker?

  8. Not sure, OJD,, but it would make a good one. Thanks.

  9. LOL

    I love the Bucket of Sash Weights Award.

  10. Maria, I can't wait to award another. Thank you.

  11. I can't get over that vulture mentality. Drives me up a wall. Respect is such a foreign concept these days.

    Oh and I can make that into a bumper sticker lol. I have a cafepress store.

  12. Lila, isn't it a fact. And if you have one made, I'll buy it. Thanks.