The Seldom Seen Christmas Special

"You fellas a heading to Belmar," axed The Follower.

"Yes, sir," replied Seldom Seen, being respectful to a man who drives a van wearing ass-less leather pants.

"Yup, so is we.........look up a thar."

Seldom looked high in the sky and saw a star, shinning bright in the daytime sun, directly over Belmar.

"Wow, that's amazing" thought Seldom. Seldom now understood that this was destiny.

"Yup," said The Follower, " We all saw it a few nights ago at our annual, 'Disadvantaged Kids For Jesus' festival. We alls knew we had to follow it. Kind of makes us feel like the wisemen."

The Follower smiled, then coughed up a spell, and spit out a milky whitish fluid from his throat.

"Welp, we's a more than a willing to give you a fellas a lift, but one of y'all will have to make a donation to Jesus in the back of our van."

Seldom cringed. He wanted to get to Belmar, but..........

Then suddenly a ventriloquist's voice rang out, " I"LL DO IT !!"

It was Adam. He would make the donation!!

So Jeff was followed into the van by The Follower and Lipsmacker, and the cacophony that followed was quite possibly the strangest, most disturbing sounds ever to be heard in New Jersey. And that's saying a lot. Have you ever heard a loud talking, lip smacking, gum chewing, big haired, Italian girl from New Jersey?

The van started to rock, and moans, screams, and what sounded to be a Mormon Tabernacle Boy's Choir rendition of "Come All Ye Faithful," bellowed through the airwaves.

Hey Zues, a veteran New Jersey type, still stood on the road's shoulder(Break Down Lane for the New Englanders) mouth agape with a St. Bernard-worthy line of drool hanging from his mouth. Then Hey Zues, unable to speak, mouthed......." What the F is happening here, kids?"

To Be Continued.......

 

What's really gross.....?

Nothing was obscene in that last installment.

You guys just have dirty minds.

Like you guys ass-ume there was sex going down in that van.......maybe.......

But have you ever seen a African American Baptist church service go down?

Maybe the van was a rocking because they were up singing and dancing for the Lord.......

Nahh, you guys are probably right, there was probably some deviancy going down.......maybe.....

See that makes it fun for the reader. You can draw your own conclusions.........

 

Charles Schulz is dead. America needs new holiday specials.

Snoopy is the greatest American ever.

 

[Well, since it's cool with with Radder B, I'll proceed. Oh, they have called-off the snow for Thursday night. I'm disappointed... OH YEAH, ALL CHARACTERS AND ACTIVITIES MENTIONED ARE ALL FICTIONAL. ANY SIMILARITIES ARE MERELY COINCIDENTAL............]

Donald Wara'nt was upset. HIS town Belmar was under siege, and he only wished it was by Steven Seagal. Though on second thought, Donald Wara'nt realized Seagal would be bad for business. Donald remembered that Seagal was some type of cop or something, as he saw him on some TV show chasing black guys with crack in Louisiana.

Nonetheless, there were problems. Belmar was quickly turning into the the Haight Ashbury neighborhood during the summer of love. They just kept coming. Why just yesterday Donald was dropped-in on at 18th Ave, by some dude who offered to buy him pizza in exchange for some surfing tips. The guy didn't even realize the infraction he committed. He just kept saying everything was gruvi.

Yeah, media attention was partly to blame, but there had to be something else taking place. Donald had come to suspect that a few rival surf shop owners were to blame. He especially considered Glenn Kloss at Outlet on the Inlet Surf Supplies, and Dean Beerschooner and the rest of those ego clowns at Aldous Huxley Surf Shop in Pt. Pleasant. as prime suspects. Those guys were most likely trying to clear the line-ups in their respected towns, and also draw the heat away from them. Maybe they were already working with DEA.

Donald Wara'nt poured a glass of Grey Goose and chopped a beefer. He had enough on his plate besides dealing with Belmar becoming the new epicenter of the world's surfing enthusiasts. He had his surf shop and his narcotics smuggling operation in which to contend (author's note: I almost typed, "operation to contend with," but that's poor writing. Noticed how I switched-up to, "operation in which to contend." WOW, that was amazing. Just amazing)

Donald chopped another beefer and refilled his glass - one of those child sippy thingys. He paced back-and- forth, picking at scabs on his face, and smoking cigarettes. He was waiting for his main employee Bruce Drawbridge to show. Bruce Drawbridge owed Donald Wara'nt. It was Bruce's connections with Donald that allowed Bruce to place first in the ESA's Jr Boogie Board all of those years. Bruce couldn't even do a spin, yet managed to win every contest. It's not what you know, it's who you know.

For some reason many of the surf cats out there don't realize that surf shops are all fronts for illegal drug activity. Not only do surf shops compete in selling board shorts they also compete for the souls of your children. Your child will perform back alley filth for ten dollars. Hopefully twenty.........That makes it a little easier to digest. Therefore, surf shop owners are all tense men, and highly suspicious of outsiders. And Belamr was becoming a zoo of interlopers from rural Pennsylvania.....Pittsburgh even. Shoot, the other day, Don could have sworn he saw one of those Amish Mafia guys walking along the promenade. Don laughed when he heard Esther got beaten-up......by a rapper.

Donald Wara'nt couldn't fathom his town being overrun by people from places where the first day of deer hunting is a regional holiday. Something had to be done, and Bruce Drawbridge was the man to do it.

Finally, Bruce Drawbridge arrived at Don's shop - Eastern Butter Lines.

"Sorry I'm late Don, I couldn't find the right pair of pants to match my day's astrology horoscope, and I just wasn't feeling 'it' this morning." Bruce reeked of pachouli oil and was sipping some vegetable concoction.

Don shook his head, chopped another beefer, refilled his sippy-cup, gritted his teeth and exhaled a big sigh of frustration. Don was not only losing his town, he was losing his mind.

To Be Continued......