Yep, I've Still Got It

The following story is one of the reasons I hate to leave the house. Last night I decided to pay a visit to one of the few remaining watering holes in Dyckersonville that hasn't banned me for life. Sweet Lord Almighty in Heaven above, I wish I hadn't.

The night started out decent enough. I sauntered in around 9:30pm and moseyed my way over to a corner of the bar. The house band, the Pork Rinds, was playing Top 40 crap to a group of 30 or so. The barkeep greeted me with a hearty howdy-do and I ordered my usual: a Filthy Whore. For those of you who don't know, a Filthy Whore is made with one part vodka, two parts scotch, and three parts kerosene. You throw it all in a blender, toss in a dead fish, and mix it up real good.

Anyway, I was sitting there enjoying my Filthy Whore and checking out the scenery. Pickins were pretty slim, but there were a couple of broads who caught my eye. One of the tomatoes was sporting a leathery jacket and nursing a Bud Lite with her ugly friend. The other dame was only moderately attractive, but she had a nice rack. Oh yeah, and over in the other corner, a 50 year old hag who looked like she had been sitting there since people started making jokes about when Nixon was in office.

So I was trying to decide which one of those two lovely cupcakes was going to enjoy the company of Dyckerson...when all of the sudden, who should approach me but (you guessed it) the 50 year old hag! This bitch parked her ass on the stool next to me, lit a cigarette, and ordered a drink. She reeked of B.O. and cheap perfume, and her clothes appeared to have come from a thrift shop. And not a second-hand thrift shop either. More like a third- or fourth-hand thrift shop. Kind of a sneak preview of what the crazy babbler will be like in five years. Christ, I wouldn't have pooned that old maid with Bea Arthur's dick!

I tried to ignore this skanky grandmother and focus my attention on the wall-mounted TV. Jesus, I wish the damn thing had been turned on. Then maybe I wouldn't have heard her when she said hello.

She had one of those deep, gravelly voices that chain smokers get. She was somewhat hard to understand, but here's a rough idea of how our conversation went...

Hag: My name's Kathy. What's your name?
Dyck: David Burkowitz.
Hag: What do you do?
Dyck: Me no speako de English.
Hag: (unintelligible)
Dyck: That's nice.

And now, for the good part...

Hag: I'm homeless.
Dyck: Huh?
Hag: I have no place to go tonight.
Dyck: Well that's a shame.
Hag: So why are you here tonight? Are you trying to pick up somebody?
Dyck: Umm...I am gay, I have AIDS, and I have no penis.

(And here's the icing on the urinal cake. All during this time, the Pork Rinds were playing Don Henley's "The Heart of the Matter." This used to be one of my favorite songs. Well no more. Now, it will always be our song. I'll have to burn all my Henley CDs. Hell, I think I'll even burn my henley shirts for good measure.)

At that point, I pretended to get a call on my cell phone...

Dyck: What? There's been a terrible accident?? My house burned down and my family is dead??! I'll be right there!!!

I then paid my tab and hot footed it out of there. There's another bar I won't be going to again. Of course the real tragedy is, the two hotties I left behind will never experience the seductive powers of Dyckerson. 'Tis a pity.


Anonymous said...

#1, fuckin A. I think you and I are the only weekend bloggers. What a couple of losers we are.
Back in my bartending days I poured quite a few Filthy Whores. The trick is to scale the fish first or they will clog up the blades. Just fyi.

That Old dude in the video has a filthy fucking mouth.

Don Henley is a douche and sucks, as well as the Eagles and I am sure you could of drank that fatty into a 'Courtney Love' level skank.

Great story but that 'Bea Arthur's dick' comment was fucking tired.

People need to let that shit go..

DykesDog said...

Mighty Dyck,

I think you should really try a lesbian bar.

Back when I were a Christian Straight Girl, I attracted men like your 50 year old hag ... then I discovered the lesbian bars, and all I can say is, hell ya!

P.S. The music is much, much better!

Anonymous said...

Mighty D wrote: "Of course the real tragedy is, the two hotties I left behind will never experience the seductive powers of Dyckerson. 'Tis a pity."

Never say never. In just 30-short years, there they'll be, homeless and on each side of you (or your son) at the same bar. Fate is a cruel beotch.

karla said...

"The Heart of the Matter"?! What a fag.

Don Henley albums AND t-shirts? You're giving fags a bad name.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

What the fuck is with all the Eagles/Henley hatin' on my blog?? Mr. Henley is not a douche, nor am I a fag.

Come on, people. Let's get down to the heart of the matter. My will is getting weak and my thoughts are beginning to scatter, but I'm thinking about forgiveness...forgiveness. Even if, even if, you're a bunch of fucking idiots who wouldn't know a good song if it snuck up behind you and fucked you in the ass!!!

Manola Blablablanik said...

Song, schmong. I'd know a good banana if it was yours!

Anonymous said...

You had me at, "I have no penis."

jmeped said...

Well if your pick up lines start out with "love hole" and something about your bed bugs eating there... you might want to get a game plan next time.

andy said...

Relax, Dyck. Don Henley is fine. Whatever. "The Boys of Summer" is totally the straightest song ever. You have NOTHING to worry about.


(p.s., when you are reading that aloud to yourself like I know you try to do to improve your phonics, you should do so in the most sterotypical gay voice ever. ever.)

Mr. Fabulous said...

I can't believe you didn't hit that!

Heart of the Matter? Awesome song.

Baron Ectar said...

Hell man you missed out on some good toe jams!

~ Stacy ~ said...

"David Burkowitz"


You're so funny.