Corndogger
My good pal Festus Porkmeyer is having a quiver blowout sale and my former Corndog Bonzer is among the swag. click here
“Campbell Bros. 6’6” Corndog Egg: This truly is a magic board. In the water, it turns ordinary closeouts into 100-yard peelers, and on land, it transforms into a pit bull, which comes in handy at roughneck beachbreak towns like Oceanside and Oxnard, which seem to often have good Bonzer waves. Also, if you rub the board counterclockwise (while waxing, perhaps) and repeat the words ”dingle dork alfonso” four times, your entire body will be temporarily coated in menacing tattoos, with the word “EVIL” stenciled prominently across the back of your neck. $275”
warm jet
September 1, 2006Jp , That’s not the template he’s using for the new eggs is it?
The pic is odd.
Need a stand up pic for the outline.
Looks like a graet board wat’s the cost?
It looks like the wide poin is back on it?
Twooo?
Festus Porkmeyer
September 2, 2006Thanks for the free ad, Jay Pea. The Corndogger, odd outline and all, has already been sold and wheeled away.
Today’s call to the shop was just a last-minute check to make sure you didn’t want it back. How about calling your “good pal” back? Ha.
FP
J.P.
September 2, 2006Dear friend Festus,
Apologies for not returning your phone call. Friday is payday and once I got that puppy in my greasy mitts I tore out of there and rushed to the bank where I cashed my weekly pittance for making surfboards shiny and then peeled off to the Indian casinos to nurse my radical gambling problem. I am typing this from jail.
chin chin,
JP
J.P.
September 2, 2006and many happy waves to the new owner of that board. You can hang 5 on it!
Festus Porkmeyer
September 3, 2006Dear jailbird,
That is great. It means your dad has let you in on the business plan we’ve quietly been working up over the past couple months. I think I know what you were really doing at the casino: Raising funds for our venture. In case he hasn’t told you, it’s time to come clean. There’s been far too much sneaking around.
It all started one day when Peter, sensing old Porky was tense, kindly asked what was troubling me. I told him about the previous night’s meth bender and how my tweaker Vista neighbor and I dismantled a Dodge Dart, put it back together in his living room, took it apart again, had it reassembled in his garage by dawn, then had to take it to the mechanic.
Peter was impressed. “The tweakers in Tortilla Flats can’t handle anything bigger than a three-speed bike,” he said.
To relieve stress, he suggested that I paddle out to the kelp beds and take 10 deep breaths. So I heeded his advice. But, apparently, there aren’t any kelp beds in Oceanside — because I paddled and kicked on my little surf mat for 17 straight hours until it was pitch black with no land in sight and never spotted even a single strand of kelp. Luckily, a boatload of tweakers, apparently from Leucadia, picked me up about seven miles north of San Clemente Island. They were out there trawling the bottom for three-speed parts.
So the next day I shared my tale with Peter, a man constantly tuned in to the world of great ideas, and he immediately suggested that we make the gritty saga into a screenplay. The title would, of course, be “A Boatload of Tweakers” — his suggestion. We just needed some scratch to set things in motion.
Well, call it miracle, our savior arrived that very afternoon, in the form of an e-mail from Prince Akibikwu of Ugabugadi, who contacted me personally — no doubt the result of my having an internationally recognized newspaper column — with great news: All we had to do was send him $1 million, and it would somehow allow him to free up his fortune of $50 million, which would be split equally among us.
Excited, I explained the golden opportunity to Peter, who was equally enthused. His exact words, as I recall, were: “To my layman eyes, I can see no down side.”
So I rounded up the profits from our house sale, along with the trust Grandpa left, combined them with funds Peter netted through the sales of the shop and house (don’t worry; you have two more days until escrow “officially” closes), and rushed a big wad of cash to the prince.
But, due to unforeseen complications, the prince has requested we wire him an additional $100,000 before receiving the big payoff. So Peter has been relying on his online poker expertise, you have apparently been frequenting casinos, and Porky has been selling off all of his possessions, including his surfboards.
We will make this happen.
However, as the realist of this operation, I will admit to having detected a potential area of concern: How will we make the lead character — whose strokes and kicks were powered by a potent strain of methamphetamine composed almost entirely of cleaning products — lovable, like, say, little Elian Gonzales? Peter, once again, had a great idea: Cast Johnny Depp as lead. He could pull it off!
So that’s pretty much where things stand. All we need is $106,000 (Peter hasn’t been “getting the cards”) and a contract with Johnny Depp, and we’re rolling.
God, it feels good to get all this off my chest. All the secrecy and guilt were burning a hole through my stomach. At least I think that’s what was eating at me. You don’t think it could have been the cleaning products? Gurgle. Fart.
Eric
September 6, 2006Classic.
Festus Porkmeyer
September 7, 2006Sorry to drag this thread along any farther, but there’s been a slight change of plans and I just want to keep everyone in the know: We have decided to shift our focus from the screenplay to our new, Folksmen-inspired singing group: Porky, Peter and the Tweakers.
However, if Peter keeps hogging the lead vocals (and chomping the bribery muffins customers bring to the shop), we might have to change our name to something more superstar-front-man-friendly. How about Porky Peter and the Tweakers?
uli
October 5, 2006We provide cowbridge cleaning services, cowbridge cleaning Darr