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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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