HowTo:Get married
I was born an' raised in Branson but I couldn' take it there no more on account-a Arkansas gettin' too sophisticated an' gentrified. So I moved myself up here to Flathead, Montana back in '86 and I reckon it's a pretty fine place to live. There ain't hardly no po-lice up here, no taxes and no Alcohol, Firearms and Tobaccy Nazis kickin' in the door just 'cause I got a stack-a Stinger missiles an' some Semtex next to the Rot-gut still by the wood-pile. Course, you gotta keep an eye out for them damned commie types sneakin' across the border from overseas places like Canada and Idaho, but most-a all it's kinda peaceful an' that's how I likes it.
But there is times when I could use some comp'ny - female comp'ny, if you know what I'm sayin'. An' the Rocky Mountains is a lonesome sorta place - I ain't had no sort of female comp'ny at all these last ten years. Less'n you counts Mirabelle an' I wouldn't touch a hair on her sweet head, not even when she looks at me with them big ole brown eyes. I just couldn' do nothin' like that with Mirabelle seein' how it was me that brung her up from a young 'un. I brought her home back in '93 when she was just a foal, but now she's like one o' the family. 'Cept that I just can't seem to thinka her as part-a the family in the way my Daddy used to thinka his sisters. And mine.
Don' git me wrong. I ain't no shrivel-nutted son of liberal. I's made love outside-a my species 'fore now an' it don't bother me none. The Good Book just says notta lay with no beasts a the field - so I's always brung 'em into the house an' introduced myself into 'em doggy style, on account of most of 'em bein' dogs an' all. Hogs is all right too but they squeals an' grunts all the time. Like porn stars, I guess.
Anyhow's, I's a wantin' a real human woman these days an' I heard on the radio about these here mail-order brides you can buy on that Innernet. It set me to thinkin' that maybe I should get me one. So that's why I'm in Butte today, an' it ain't no good Daisy givin' me those cow-eyes an' flutterin her eye-lashes. She aint gonna get me that-a way agin, the saucy heiffer.
I don' git inta town too often. Big cities like Butte give me the willies with all them signs tellin' you what to do, an' cars with licence plates an' all. I pay for a mailbox just so's the NRA got someplace to send my membership but I don' go there more'n twice a year, usually. I'm kinda glad I came here first though, 'cause I wouldn't know how to tune in one a them computers to pick up the innernet. Lucky for me there was a catalog in my mailbox mixed in with all the usual court summonses an' crap from the IRS. I tell you, it fell open at page twenty six an' it was like God on high ordained it, 'cause that page was stuffed with beauties you wouldn' kick outta the cot for fartin' - not even if they followed through.
I'm gonna order the lotta 'em soon's I got home - there ain't nothin' illegal about that there Po-lygamy in Montana. Leastways, not where I lives. An' if it's good enough for them Morons in Utah, then it's gotta be good enough for me. Some guy in the Bible had himself five wives - Mohammed or Buddha or the Tooth Fairy , I don' know, I ain't churchy. I figure if I got all five then four of 'em can carry out the duties that spell out W.I.F.E (Washin', Ironin', Fuckin', Et cetera) an' I'll still have one for spare.
5 weeks later
Penney's said to allow for upta 28 days for delivery which was just as well 'cause I got busted for sellin' moonshine outside-a the High School agin. I spent a month in jail in Great Falls, which is okay - they always de-louses you on the way in an' gives you new clothes for the year when you leaves. But this year I was fairly sweatin' to git back to the house to meet my new brides an' give 'em the induction - "This is the bedroom, this is also the kitchen an' this is what I keeps in my pants."
I was a bit disappointed they weren't there when I got home, but it was obvious that they was on the way 'cause they'd already sent over some of their clothes. Not that they'd be needin' 'em for a while, I figured. When nothin' more came for another three weeks I decided to complain. Shit, I already paid the $25.50. I rang the same number as before an' they put me through to some girl who I could barely unnerstan'. She said she was an Injun an' she was in some place called Lucknow. I'm all for Injuns sellin' cigars, an' I guess Lucknow's a neat kinda name for one o' them Reservation casinos an' all, but I do not know why they always have the call-centers in outlandish places like Arizona.
I coulda died of embarrassment when she explained what I'd done. Seems Penney's don' sell women no more, just clothes an' shit. That's what happens when you lets Democrats inta the White House, I guess. An' to make it worse, that snooty bitch refused to give me a refund when she found out that I'd bin wearin' the bikini to break it in for 'em. So now I's in Butte agin an' I'm sittin' in this Cyber-cafe along a these long hairs an' freaks, bein' shown how to use that Google by some geek with a join-the-dot face who smells-a soap like a faggot. I sure hope my neighbors don' see me, they gonna think I bin sissified.
5 minutes later
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I searched an' searched for a comp'ny who could supply what I's been dreamin' of, an' after filterin' through all the other crap, I reckon I found just the ticket. The comp'ny was based in Caracas an' there was a whole lotta questions 'bout what I was lookin' for that I didn' unnerstand. I figured that was 'cause the page was translated by robots or somethin'. I ticked the box for a warm heart an' blue eyes an' big lungs - 'cause I've always bin a titty-man. I wasn' much innerested in how many kidneys she had so I just filled in the additional requirements box with "Long legs and well-manicured hands" - 'cause no man needs scratches down there. After that I filled in the bank-details box an' pressed send. They say I'll have the freshest meat the favellas of Venezuela have to offer inside three days - all guaranteed un-sullied by man an' in full-workin' order.
The computer-nerd says I'll be lucky to have a dime left in my account by the end of the week. But what do I care what he thinks? Last time he dropped his seed on a woman it stuck the pages a his magazine together. Anyhow, I don' have no bank-account, so I used the credit card I found in his wallet. Who's laughin' now, smart ass?
I'm off back to the house now to clean up a bit so as to make a good first impression. Gonna fix up the chicken-shed 'cause I bin sharin' my home with them dumb-clucks too long an' they's still not properly house-trained. Gonna stop at the grocery store first to pick up some tissues - three days is a long time when you's as desperate as me. Maybe I'll keep that big ole' Rhode Island Red with me a while longer - she got purty feathers.
A further 3 days.
Crap. I went back to Butte this mornin' to pick up my delivery and some half-assed, wanna-be detective from the US Mail Inspection Service tried to stop me takin' it away just 'cause he said the writin' on the crate was suspicious. I told him a-course it was suspicious on account-a it bein' in Mexican. Then I kneed him in the nuts an' dragged that big ole box inta the truck 'fore he got his wind back. Proper cop woulda seen that move comin'. Proper cop I'd-a kicked in the shin 'fore I kneed him in the balls.
I got back to the house an' pulled the crate inside quick as I could 'cause I was worried about my bride - there didn' seem to be no air-holes in that box. I could hardly hold the tire-iron to open it for shakin' I was so excited. Seemed like a million thoughts was rushin' through my head all at once, all a them the same an' all of 'em headin' straight down south. I was jus' clearin' the last few chickens outta the bed when the FBI kicked in the door. Most-a the wall came with it. They oughtta pay for that.
They knocked me to the floor an' cuffed me while some lady cop in a gas-mask or somethin' finished opennin' my delivery. They was kinda shocked by what they found inside, packed up in ice and God knows what else. Not as shocked me though, how was I meant to know "Organos Humanos" means Human Organs? I don' speak foreign. I thought it was the name-a the mail-order comp'ny. Goddam on-line translation.
Lucky for me, the cops believed it when I said the freak at that Cyber-cafe had asked me to take delivery-a his order. Seems they bin watchin' him for months. Turns out he's bin posin' as a high school kid on MyFace or some such. They reckon he'd bin groomin' middle aged men all over the state in the hopes one-a them would abuse him.
I felt a bit guilty for a while but that weren't 'bout to change nuthin'. Anyhows, maybe the kid'll git lucky an' they'll take him to that Guantanamo Bay, boy like that'd be popular with all them rag-heads.
If at first you don't succeed...
That was a kinda narrow escape an' with my record I cain't afford to be have cops sniffin' round the place no more. But I couldn' just give up. So I figured I'd only deal with people who speaked English as good as I do in future to avoid unecessary confusion.
I started lookin' on British sites 'cause the new nerd at the Cyber-cafe tol' me that they speak English there too. Who'd a thought? But there weren't no brides available from England, anyhow - the snooty bitches. An' I didn' fancy nuthin' from Ireland or Australia - I cain't afford to have someone drinkin' all my moonshine 'fore I can sell it. So I settled for "Lubang-Bangers.Com" which is a site sellin' girls from the Philippines. It was owned by some American guy originally from Hawaii, which is overseas but not badly so. An' he guaranteed that every one o' them girls knew someone who spoke English real nice. I figured a Filipina'd be pretty impressed by my nearly plumbed-in out-house an' e-lectricity that works so long as the power comp'ny don' notice that big coil o' copper I got wrapped round the cable runnin' over my house. I'm a reasonable sorta guy, so I compromised on the blue eyes.
Manilla's a long way from Montana, a-course, so I was happy to pay the extra sixty bucks to have her flyed air-mail. Nuthin' but the best for my honey. I figured that there could be turbulence over that big ole ocean 'tween there an' here, so I made sure they made her nice an' safe for the journey. I didn' want no bruises on that gal. I wanted her to be fresh as a virgin daisy the minute she got offa that plane. An' ready for action, it's bin a long ole time now.
I tell you what, they was as good as their word. That girl arrived next day, only I couldn' pick her up on account of UPS not deliverin' on a Sunday. Goddam Catholics! She arrived by 11 o'clock Monday though, an' I don' mind admittin' that I was in a fair sweat by then. I could scarcely wait for the delivery truck's dust to die down 'fore I openned this one.
I guess I shouldn' have bin so disappointed that she was dead. After all, it was me as specified three layers o' bubble-wrap all round. How was I s'posed to know she'd suffocate? At least she was still fresh, so I put her to good use an' then fed her to the hogs, like Momma used to do with the girls Daddy brought home when he was a truck driver.
Try, try again.
I was gettin' near givin' up after all that, it feeled like God didn' mean me to have no woman. I drove up to Helena 'cause, though you cain't buy a wife there, there's plenny you can rent by the hour. I found myself a purdy one, she was dressed up real nice - red leather mini-skirt, thigh boots an' a blouse that only showed you two thirds o' her titties. I likes 'em demure-like. I'd bin waitin' for so many weeks that it didn' take me long to get finished but she didn' look disappointed. Not that she'd a had any right to complain, far as I'm concerned there ain't no such thing as premature e-jaculation - "If the bitch cain't keep up that's her problem" is what my Daddy used to say.
Anyhow, since I'd paid for a hour an' seein' how she was done up so classy like, I figured I'd take her for a meal somewhere nice. There wasn' no McDonalds but the drive-thru at Burger King was open so I gotta double quarter-pounder with three cheeses an' a side order a buffalo wings. My companion, Sienna, had a salad because she said she had-a watch her figure 'cause she was only bein' a whore 'til her actin' career took off. She only ate half the complementary bucket o' fries so I finished the rest.
I got to tellin' her 'bout my problems gittin' a wife. I thought maybe there'd be one o' her "escort" friends might want to hang up her douche an' settle down. She laughed a bit an' then said maybe if I rang an old acquaintance o' hers in Anaconda I might find someone lookin' for a man.
"Just be careful-a the snake!" she said. But I weren't 'bout to be fooled by that one - everyone round this part-a Montana knows that town got its name from the Anaconda minin' comp'ny. I gave her the cash an' she gave me her friend's number an' a little somethin' to remember her by that I hadda get Penicillin to git rid of.
Anyhows, I rang her friend soon as I got home. Brandi turned outta be from Thailand originally but beggars cain't be choosers, I reckon. She tol' me she was five foot six with short brownish hair an' a J. Lo ass, whatever that means. I was so knocked out by her sexy, husky voice that I didn' even mind when she said she only had little titties at the minute. Long as they was squeezable I wasn' 'bout to complain.
I told her 'bout my struggle to find a wife an' she offered to UPS herself to me jus' so I could tell my friends I got her mail-order. I coulda easily driven over there an' picked her up but Brandi insisted an' I didn' object. Unwrapping Christmas presents was always the best part when I was a kid, 'specially since Daddy bought us the same thing every year - KFC.
When I told her to make sure she had plenny o' ventilation in the box I didn' mean that she should mail herself naked. But at least that meant I gotta good look at her soon as she stepped outta the packaging. I thought 'bout kickin' her outta the house but she's handy with a hammer an' nails an' I ain't got round-a fixin' the damage the FBI left. She can do other things with her hands that I weren't expectin' neither so I reckon she's a keeper.
Like it says in "Some like it Hot", ain't nobody perfect but I really wasn' expecting her pecker to be bigger'n mine.
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