Thread: Thebigspendurs Epic Tonsorial Misadventures #67

Good morning shaving fiends

I was sitting on the veranda polishing up my Davy Crocket razor and Cletus drove up. He asked what time I would be coming over to welcome Festus home for the pre-party. I said you don’t fool me I saw that casket you made for me. He said casket? Why…errr..yous mistaken besides what you doing snooping around my workshop anyway. I said why I was taking what was rightly mine. Well that was no casket that was a boat I was building for the big river race we have every Thanksgiving. It wasn’t finished. Well why did it have my initials on it? He said that’s just a coincidence. I said that whole family of yours is just a bunch of c*o*ckroaches. He said you better take that back or I’m gonna turn you into one of those guys who sings soprano. I said oh yea? I’m a gonna use my Davy Crocket razor to give you a shave so close you’ll never have to shave ever again. He says so you’re the fool who paid all that money for that Pakistani razor. The only one who’s a bigger fool than you was the bigger fool who bought the phony Lone Ranger Rifle Sue’s been trying to unload for the last 10 years. I said now don’t you make fun of my hero the Lone Ranger. He says so you’re the big fool eh? Why you’re so stupid I don’t know if we want you to come over.

Well I wasn’t gonna take anymore insults from him and I knocked him down and hit him over the head with my razor, which broke in half and then I bit his ear clean off har har. Yep that surly did smart. He grabbed one of the missus apple pan dowdy’s which was cooling on the window sill and hit me in the head with it and opened my head in 4 places. Why there was so much blood we couldn’t see to kick each other’s butts. I felt a tug at my braces and it was the Sergeant who pulled me back. He said you two idiots will likely kill each other and then I’ll have to do some work around these parts to get my grub so you better knock it off, mend your ways.

Well we felt like fools. Imagine having some dumb bovine talk sense to you. So after the missus patched us up Cletus went home and heck my head still hurts and I don’t know what she had in that stuff.

Well, while the clan was preparing for the pre-celebration the missus and I went to the airport to pick Festus up. When he came down I said where’s your friend Mr. Whitey. He said there was a change of plans that dictator who owed me a favor was on a pilgrimage to Mecca and he was trampled to death by a herd of goats. So we had him hide in the wheel wells of the plane all the way across the ocean and he was kind of frozen when we landed in the U.S. But he’s ok now and for the rest of the trip I shipped him express. We have to go over to the carrier to get him. So we went over to the express place with the receipt and they took us out to the back and there was this huge crate rocking back and forth with all kinds of terrible sounds coming from it. No one would go near it. We opened it and that dude was really mad and if Baaaby wasn’t with us I’m not sure what he would have done but she calmed him down real fast. We got in the car but Mr Whitey wouldn’t fit plus he looked too obvious so Festus tied him to the hood of the car like a dead deer and he poured some Ketchup on him and told him to play dead. We got about 30 miles and we was pulled over by the state patrol. He wanted to see our hunting permit. All I had was my fishing permit. He said that ain’t no fish. I said sure it is we caught him in the lake. I said he was a new species created by global warming. He said that sounds like a c*o*ck and bull story to me but I ain’t never seen a creature like that before. He says what if I shoot him in the head. Well, that’s all Mr. Whitey had to hear and he got off the hood and stuffed that cop in the trunk of his car and pushed it off the side of a cliff. He said I’ll just walk there. I said it’s 50 miles away. He said I can smell my cousin from here so I said OK. We got home and there was a call from the Chief of the Utes. He said some big guy was walking around the casino scaring all the customers away. Apparently what he smelled was Swampy and it was love at first sight. I told the chief to call Navajo Joe and go over and pick him up.

So we went over to the clan’s compound and they was all outside waiting for him. Even Postmistress Haffwitte was there. I noticed something strange and said what’s that 666 in your face. She said I don’t know I was just shaving and like lost control. I said shaving…straight razor… why I didn’t know you shaved with a straight. She said sure I do, every day. She said that was a requirement to get the job. All the female malemens had to shave their face every day. I said hmm that don’t sound natural to me. She said sure it is all of us do. The two practical tests for the job is the shave thing and then they lock us in a room with a Gorilla and see who can do the most damage to a package. You have to do more than the Gorilla to get the job.

Well everyone was glad Festus was home safe and sound and the really big festivities were planned to be held in a couple weeks or so. Festus showed me that strop he made. Why it was the most magnificent thing I ever did see in my life. Festus put it in a display case in the shop folks came from miles around just to see it. I caught Sasquatch fondling it on more than one occasion. Yep it was almost 5 feet long not including the hardware and the hardware was made of solid silver. Probably 5 pounds worth. And then those huge gem stones encrusting the hardware. The strop itself was one inch thick and was so supple why you could tie it in knots. There was a cloth strop made of knotted Yak hair sure to condition the most stubborn of razors. See all of you could have gone and gotten one but yous too lazy to do some honest work and ern the right to own one so now yous can all eat your hearts out.

Even Mr Lucifer came in to marvel at it. He said if he had one like that he could get the best shaves in hell. I’ll bet you didn’t know everyone in hell has to use a straight razor. It’s mandatory just that most folks don’t know how to use them and that’s the idea. You see in hell after they finish shaving they have these poor tortured souls there with a sign around their necks saying contributor and they have to approve the shave (which they never do) so you keep shaving over and over and over for all eternity and each time these guys ding you they have one day taken off their sentence just that their too stupid to realize one minus eternity is still eternity, Har har.

Festus said while he was traveling around he learned to really communicate with the goats using some brain waves or something. He said theys really discerning animals and very smart too.

S o the brainbuster for this week is…well…you know since we know Lucifer uses a straight what kind does he use I mean grind and brand and size? You think he has a hard face to shave? Think his skin is as smooth as a baby’s butt? Think he knows how to hone? Maybe he uses a little devil hone-har har.

Maybe he has a lot more in common with you guys than you think. Har,har,har.

Fritz from Saxony wrote in to say; it's a real coincidence you wrote about Lucifer because me and Lucifer are best friends. As a retired barber who just celebrated his 250th birthday Lucifer comes to me for shaves all the time and is a really demanding customer. Now he won't come anymore. He told me some wild story about being shaved by some monkey who does a better job than me while being serenaded by another monkey who sings Italian Opera and some big hairy guy who applies hot towels. I think he's off his rocker. Now he's telling me I took advantage of him and am living too long and he wants me.

See what you and your stupid stories have done to me!!!

Oh by the way Lucifer shaves with a red imp wedge-har har.

Hans from Bavaria wrote in to say; Now don't you go believing that dullard from Saxony. All the smart people in Germany live up here. I just want to thank the shaving chimp for putting that 666 in Lucifer's face so everyone can identify him when he comes around. Of course he never comes here because we are too smart for him. Why I was just telling the big guy last week he needs to reign him in some more. He has way too much freedom.

Anyone with half a brain knows Lucifer doesn't shave himself he has others do all his business for him so he doesn't need a razor.

I got an E-mail from Spike from Chicago. He says; "hey I'm a Mailman and you just insulted me and all the women who work for the Postal Service. We would never allow our carriers to shave with a straight. They'd get too many cuts and scars and they would scare all the customers and little kids on their routes. As far as that Gorilla thing goes that's just an urban myth. The test we really have to pass to get the job is how far we can kick the average parcel. Unless it's 100 yards you don't get the job and I'm proud to say I'm the best parcel kicker in the country. When you get a parcel I've handled you'll know it".

I got an E-mail from Fred from UPS. He says now don't you listen to those overpaid under worked sissy's from the postal service. If they tried to kick the parcels we get they would claim disability and never work again. When we load the trucks we kick the parcels clear across the facility. I've got legs like Popeye's arms.

I got an E-mail from Maria from Fedex, she says "those overpaid unionized Milquetoasts at UPS couldn't kick their old grandmothers down a flight of stairs they're so weak. We don't have to kick parcels. When the plane goes over our facility we just throw the parcels out at 5,000 feet and we never miss.