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by new resident Davey Uhlig
Space #43

I'd just like to start out our neighborly relationship by asking, where can a fella get a dope connection in this trailer park? I looked up and down the driveway (and even into some trailers) and far as I can tell, this place is DRY when it comes to buying dope.

Thank God that old guy in space #54 turned me onto some pills and Wild Turkey. After the pills and booze kicked in, Elvis showed me a double siamese-twin pumpkin he picked up at the local farmer's market. I ended up spinning the damn thing Harlem Globetrotter-style on my fingers, and Elvis shot a photo with his digital camera and downloaded the pics onto his computer. He said it was for insurance purposes.

Anyways, the only trailer door I ain't knocked on yet is the one right next door in space #41. Ah, well, if worse comes to worst I can always just take a rubber raft across the duckpond to Buzzards Trailertopia and buy what I need from Speedy. I can buy my own shit, and I'd rather not be a mooch to that Elvis guy in space #54 if I don't have to. That'll be reserved for emergencies, like when Speedy's locked up. Dope insurance, if you will.

Other than this trailer park being bone-dry dope-wise and me not even being able to score even one ittybitty rock to smoke without blowing up a rubber raft first, it looks like I'll fit right in here. I seen a guy out in front of his trailer, just blowtorching his yard appliances for no apparent reason. I got a blowtorch, too, one that runs on acetylene. Maybe me and that guy can blowtorch appliances together some time.

All in all, Tinbox Acres seems like a real friendly trailer park and I'll be proud to call it home. I brung a mobile snack bar with me, and I've set up shop right here in my trailer space. I hope y'all like hot dogs. All you got to do to make a hot dog is put it in boiling water, like in the steamer thingie in my snack bar. I got a steamer and a fridge in there, so you can get hot dogs, chips, pretzels, candy, sodas, and beer. I also got some merchandise racks that fit on the fold-out countertop, so you can also get fireworks, lighters, cigarettes, and rolling papers.

There's plenty of room here for my trailer, the mobile snack bar, and some blown-out abandoned trailer that was here in space #43 from before I moved in.

When I was out knocking on doors, I swear that trailer in space #62 smelled like a meth lab cooking. God, I hope that's what it was. Save me the hassle of paddling a little blow-up rubber raft across the duckpond to buy from Speedy, then having to keep my shit dry while paddling the raft back to Tinbox Acres. Somebody please tell me there's a meth lab in space #62.

I don't mean to get off the subject or nothing (what was we talking about?) but I was wondering if the people living in space #61 have a toothless pet gorilla, and if so, why does it carry its baby down the driveway and stand outside space #91 grunting, snorting, screeching, and throwing rocks at the trailer with that baby gorilla on its hip? Just curious.

I did give the baby gorilla a hot dog one day when it waddled up to my snack bar and looked at me like it was starving. I never saw anything inhale a hot dog like that in my whole life. Then it inhaled a huge salted pretzel and four bags of Fritos.

I think I can figure out what basically happened to the scraggly guy down by the duckpond, laying there tits-up in the weeds wearing nothing but filthy, urine-stained jeans, surrounded by empty generic booze bottles and beer cans. What I can't figure out is, whose golf cart is that right next to him, and how did it get there?

I finally found the dumpsters. Had to. The catbox exploded. Don't ask me how that happened. Good thing I had a broom and dustpan handy.

Well, that's it for now. I'm headed up the driveway to space #8. There's a chick in that trailer who gave me the eye earlier today.

 

 


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