Rested, Relaxed and Back For More!
After a week or so of vacation in the scenic Delmarva Peninsula (home of Frank Perdue (“it takes a tough man to make a tender chicken”)), Ghettoputer is back and ready for more of the same!
In spite of the heat and humidity, Ghettoputer managed to drag his pasty white carcass to the shore to bask in the sun and take the waters. Unfortunately, small children were frightened by the unnatural albedo of Ghettoputer’s skin, and the tan lifeguards (who get all the chicks), forced Ghettoputer off the beach and back to his rental hovel. Fortunately, in the Delmarva, drinking a whole lot is not only accepted, but encouraged. Ghettoputer highly recommends the Delmarva if you are looking for overpriced housing, lousy summer weather and ungodly traffic congestion (look soon for a post on Pennsyltucky and the singular evil of its traffic engineers). Although with its proximity to the DC/Balmer (hi, hon!) Metroplex, as well as Philthydelphia, the Delmarva shore has more than its fair share of well maintained haus fraus, which is nice.
On a lighter note, Ghettoputer visited a local farmers’ market while on vacation and had good fortune to purchase some of the finest peaches he’s ever had the fortune to cram down his many-wattled turkey neck. If ever in the Delmarva, take the opportunity to visit the fine folks at Bennett Orchards in scenic Frankford, Delaware. They may be the nicest folks you’ll ever meet, and the most hard working. Try their white peaches. So danged good. Especially after a hard day of watching the fine young (and well maintained not-as-young) women walking by on the beach. And, if you happen to be a fine member of the XX sisterhood, the men (excepting Ghettoputer) are well maintained, too. Or so I’ve been told.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.