Tuesday

Fantasy Job #3: Tennessee River Boat Captain


Beset by unemployment and cursed with an over active imagination, I have started fantasizing about dream jobs.


Fantasy Job #3: Tennessee River Boat Captain


"My name is Dirty Ert, Captain of the Muddy Beaver. My first mate, Shaef here, tells me you are looking for passage to the Louisville system."


"Yes, if it is a fast ship."


"You've never heard of the Muddy Beaver? She's the ship that made the beer run in less than 3 cigarettes!"


How cool would that be? A Tennessee River boat captain, just hanging around the Applebee's in Knoxville. Waiting for someone who needs to book passage and freight 1,500 tons of gravel to the Louisville system. And they'll need to get to Louisville without any Department of Mines and Minerals imperial-interference.


I gonna have a cool ass sidekick too. Schaef, the Albino Aardvark. Sheaf will terrify Southerners who are unaccustomed to the sight of an aardvark. Hell my cousins from Carter County would probably think an aardvark was an earthly vestige of Satan. If one of them got loose from a petting zoo, all hell would break loose in these hills.


"Margret, get my shotgun! They is a damn Satan nosing around my lawn mower shed. Hurry damn it, the son of a bitch is a headin' fo my new weedeater. Bring some birdshot woman, hurry."


I foresee that my river boating will go so well, that I'll need to hire a crew for a fleet of ships. Just like BJ McKay. Do remember that fucker? He started off trucking with just hisself and that nasty monkey. In the beginning it was just him versus Sheriff Lobo; then BJ hit it big. He hired a passel of hot chicks to drive trucks for him. I'll do the same thing, except on the water, and the aardvark. Of course instead of Lobo, I have to face the Gay Pirates of Tellico Lake.


Let me tell you something people, them gay pirates are bitches. They run around the lake in a pontoon boat called The Snatch. Most of their victims tend to be the elderly and people in row boats. They pick off the slow ones first. Once the pirates have taken a prisoner, the torture begins. The bitches just tell it like it is. For fifteen minutes you have to listen to a grown man bitch about how bad Paula Abdul's pants looked on Entertainment Television. All the while, another queer pilfers your cooler.


That where me, The Muddy Beaver, Shaef, a crew of titty chicks and 1,500 tons of gravel come in. There are good queer-fearing rednecks who deserve to enjoy the lake, without the dread of a gay cooler pilfering. Captain Ert is here to save the day.


Dirty Ert

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