Folger's Extravagant Swatch Thread

Araysar said:

Drove to the local county clerk office on Saturday afternoon to do early voting, it was a line of 60-80 people just outside, snaking around the building. Another couple dozen inside. Decided to just go on election day at 10 am.

Didnt see any Dem gear. Saw some 2A and American flag gear

Click to expand...

Well, if we are going to jaw about gear, this matter gets settled right quick.

My dad, patriotic as hell, spent 40 years as a photographer's assistant to Bob Guccione. His right arm was noticeably more muscular than his right one. I once asked him, "Hey Dad, what's with the right arm?" and he said "That's from waving the flag son, and jerking off as my 9-5. Freedom isn't free."

(This was *before* 9/11)

Well, at this point I felt so patriotic I grabbed my flag cape, put on my MAGA hat, and I started jerking off, grinning from ear to ear. My dad dropped trou, flipped on his Ethel Merman tape, and he got to it too, and we did a cloud-bust on his 10 year old female Scottish Terrier. "That old dog hates us, and so do the Libs!" my dad said. Candy was by this time under the kitchen table, whimpering.

At this point, Mom came home from church with the Pastor and his wife. "Helloooo?" she called from the kitchen, "Honey? Why is Candy under the kitchen table again?"

(to be continued)

(nah.)

The Pastor, who was an old friend of my dad's, came in the den and said "What the dickens is going on in here?" Now me and my dad were still both grinning from ear to ear, so we just kind of laughed and said, "Owning the Libs!" and he laughed, because he is based Christian. "Plus," I said, "Dad just explained to me why his right arm is so muscular!"

At this point the room went silent.

"Dan, what did you tell him? I'd be intrigued to know myself," the Pastor said. At this point Ucheche (The Pastor's name, he is from Nigeria) sighed and looked at me. "He said he worked for Bob Guccione and that he was somehow taking photos or setting lights, and that's why he jerked off, right? Well, the fact is I doubt your father here has jerked off in any normal sense in decades. He was a fluffer, not a photographer. And he didn't work for Bob Guccione. He worked for me."

"What are you guys doing in there?" my mom yelled from the kitchen. "Me and Bagu (Nigerian for "Pastor's wife") are on our hands and knees in here trying to get Candy to come out! Come on Candy! Come on!"

They started arguing, Ucheche shrugged at me with a "That's marriage!" look but meanwhile my SO (significant other) had texted me and asked me a very odd question -- for them anyway!

(To be continued)

(is there a tranny in this??)

My SO texted, asked me if I wanted to see a movie. They do not enjoy movies for political, and very understandable, reasons, so that is why this was a very odd request.

I called them up and said, "I do not want to see a movie if all we are going to do is bitch/dog/canary the whole time," I said. "Nope," they said, this is different. It's this indie movie about this guy who worked for this Nigerian porn producer for forty years as a personal fluffer but never told anyone. They don't reveal who the guy is either! It's called "Forty Years a Fluffer" -- come on Sadre, come on!"

Between the pleading from my mom and Bagu in the kitchen, my dad barking about freedom, Ucheche's deep, unmistakable Nigerian laughter, and the equivalent of a bitch-dog-canary voice in my left ear begging to come on, and you mix that with the sudden revelations and soon-to-be fame of my dad? Man, you got yourself a stew goin. I got an erection. But then I remembered.

"Wait, isn't today election day?" I asked, my once-proud mast going south.

(To be continued)

My dad stopped barking about freedom and turned to me and said, "What the fuck is an election? You mean an erection?" From the kitchen, still on her hands and knees, begging Candy to come on, Bagu shouted "No, an election you pathetic night walker! You vote and pull the lever!"

"How come I don't know about this?" my dad asked.

"Because you pull the lever with your left arm," Ucheche said, making the house shake with his deep, unmistakable Nigerian laughter. "And you don't need a mop either" Bagu added from the kitchen.

I was feeling confused so I sat down to read some Scripture until my SO could get here to pick me up. "It IS election day," I said to myself, "And I intend to find out how I should vote." The Good Book had never failed me before.

(to be continued)

Since Ucheche is Nigerian, our church mainly reads the Bhagavad Gita, and my eyes lit on the 62nd verse of the second chapter.

"If one dwells on the objects of the senses, this leads to attachment, and attachment leads to anger, and anger leads to unclear judgment, which results in a maiming of memory itself. When memory is maimed, intellect is destroyed. And if the intellect is destroyed, one is destroyed."

I looked up at my dad and said, "We gotta stop jerking off all the time."

"With all due respect Mr. Hey I'm the Pastor Now, how the fuck am I supposed to eat? How would any of us eat?"

"This is true," said Ucheche, suddenly solemn.

And this is what happened just before we all went to vote, having learned an important lesson one and all. "Hey, where is your SO?" my mom asked. "Her wings got tired," I said.