hellbilly

Well now I'm pissed. I lost my internet connection and my whole journal entry was lost. I know what yu're going to say; it happens to everyone sometime. But that doesn't mean it's still not embarassing. Oh well, I'll try to recreate it as best I can, but it ain't gonna be as funny.
So anyway, I know some of you ave been eagerly awaiting my story of the ex con midget, but now I have to prepare to retell it so I'll waste a little time first. I spent my day doing manual labor. Which is a plus for a coople of reasons. One I like it, and it pays me, and two it keeps me from joining a gym. Which is a good thing because I'm not the gym joining type. I just threaten myself with that occasionally to make sure I keep in shape. Like, " You better lay off the fast food, or we're going to have to join a gym." or " You better cut back on the beer and drink scotch or we'll have to join the gym." or " I don't care what the Atkin's diet says, if you eat a whole stick of butter for dinner, we're going to have to join a gym." Also I don't refer to myself in the plural first person. At least very often. That's too wierd. Even for me.
So yeah, ex con midget. It all started last Thursday when I was down in Charlotte. My friend Slade and I went to this place, The Comedy Zone, to see our friend graduate from comedy school and perform his first public act. Now, I'd like to say this was a fun time, but let me tell you something people: There's nothing funny about a comedy school graduation. Not a damn thing. Except one: An ex con midget who happened to be graduating with my friend. I'd also like to say that my friend brought the house down. But I'd be lying. And I'm not a liar. I may embellish the truth somewhat, but I'm not a liar. This midget however was funny. Of course midgets have a long tradition of humor, Oompa Loompas, dwarf tossing, Time Bandits, Willow, and let's not forget Dorf on Golf. The little people are truly the kings of comedy.
So the midgets deal was this, he'd gone to comedy school after doing six months for breaking and entering, and assault with a deadly weapon (and from here on out I'm paraphrasing his routine, and what he told me later) not a gun mind you because he couldn't wrap his stubby fingers around one. This guy's weapon of choice was a golf club. A nine iron to be exact. The story goes as follows. The midget was drinking in a bar, probably in Gastonia because that's where a story this wierd would happen. Anyway some redneck started calling the midget Mini Me, which I guess must happen a lot, and the midget (whose name I forget actually) just kind of shrugged it off. Until the redneck beat the everloving crap out of him, for probably no other good reason than he could tell his buddies he whipped Mini Me's ass. So The midget followed the guy home, snuck in though the doggy door, and proceeded to clobber this guy with the golf club, and when the head broke off the club, the midget stabbd the guy in the ass with the busted shaft. So of course the cops show up, and the midget says, " Officer I was provoked. Look at me." and the officer says, " Well, I'm sure you were, but that don't mean you weren't in the wrong." to which the midget replied, " He's twice my size, how am I in the wrong?" and the officer says, " You used a nine iron when the shot really called for a pitching wedge."
True story I swear. I asked the midget. I bought him a beer and said, " Now how much of that is a true story." because I love outrageous stories like that. And the midget said it was all true but what te cop said. He said the cops were really laughing too hard to speak when they busted him. They were barely able to read him his rights. The stories this guy told about being in prison were funny as hell too. I mean it's a midget in prison, think about it. So that's the story. Tomorrow I'll tell the story about Hill billy motor cross. That is if you're all good.