Back in the day when I was a real son-of-a-bitch I had the great displeasure of knowing The Bastard Brothers of Barfly for a few miserable months. First off BarFly barely constitutes a town out in “the boonies” of TCM. BarFly is such a tiny,tiny bankrupt micro town its not even a small dot on the map, and the people’s families/friends of BarFly residents received enthusiastic emails when the town got a 2nd traffic light for Christ’s sake. As you can imagine there isn’t diddly shit for the youth of BarFly to do but drink, fuck, vandalize, smoke weed, loiter and drive around the rural landscape of nothingness that is BarFly.
The Bastard Brothers are a classic example of the youth of BarFly, but I’m sure by now BarFly has developed or died providing a much more active environment. The older brother was named Bell-End who was the most transparently fake as fuck person I have ever run across in my chaotic travels.
This story unfolds in a time before smart phones and social media when Headbangers still existed in diminishing tribes but where a dying breed since Seattle ejaculated Grunge music and flannel in the face of America. Now Bell-End was a wannabe metalhead he had the long hair, played guitar, smoke’n drank, wore jeans with torn knees, and a lame denim vest (a jacket he had cut the sleeves off of, he missed the memo stating sleeve removing is for t-shirts not jackets the moron) covered with band patches (such as Metallica, Motorhead, Anthrax etc.) ultimately he was a shitty sheep in metal clothing. Not only that but he has a condescending, egotistical, snide “I’m gods gift to the fucking world” smarter than all attitude ,but in reality he was just a lame legend in his own minuscule mind.
His younger brother Dingus was not any better then his big brother accept he was a scumbag of a different shitty color. Dingus has short man’s insecurities all Napoleon complex and shit because the guy is 5 foot nothing. Dingus dropped out of high school in the 10th grade to hangout 24/7 attached at the hip with a scummy emo goth chick named Slutica When I say attached at the hip I mean it in the most extreme stereotypical manner, you NEVER saw one without the other being no more than 3 feet away like the pair of codependent cocksuckers they still are.
This particular cool fall evening I was loitering my balls off outside the one and only connivence store/ gas station in BarFly called the Bub’s Gas’n Grub in the entirely vacant lot somewhere around 8 pm or so. My buddy Slaytanic who had be relentlessly hounding the pay phone (yes they too still existed in limited numbers as cell phones evolved society) trying to find something, anything to do other than what we were currently up to. Slaytanic finally reached The Bastard Brothers on his mental rolodex and found out the two douche bags had a party ball of Schidt. The Brothers also claimed to have in their possession a bag of Northern Lights so if we needed something to do Slaytanic and I could stop by The Brother’s house since their parents were off visiting relatives. After a brief no brainer consultation Slaytanic and I were walking our way over to The Bastard Brother’s parents place.
Once Slaytanic and I arrived Bell-End announces that the two twats had decided to charge everyone $20 to party. This was beyond stupid as fuck for two key principals 1 being imposing a last minute party tax is like a bullshit cover charge, and we’re in BarFly not NYC. The 2nd principal being the Brother’s claim to marijuana fame (Yes again there wasn’t ANY legal weed medical or otherwise.) which was blatant bullshit. There was not a chance in all the religious hells the 2 twits could have gotten their grubby hands on Alaskan high grade shit. What The Brother’s had was what everybody had Mexican brick weed which is very low quality shit (especially by todays standards), and were simply lying to try to warrant their $20 turd tax. Not to mention this was the farthest thing from a party as it was the 2 Bastard Brothers, Slaytanic, myself and one other person who also was a good friend of mine named Space Dog.
It was not just the fact I was hanging at the home of 2 colossal cockbangers but it was the surprise last second tax that just royally chapped my ass, and thus kicked off my rampage of drunken revenge. I had had enough at this point of the to Bastard Brothers with their endless torrent of complete horse shit and even shittier personalities. To get the ball rolling I decided to pound beers like an alcoholic yeti until they went down like water. The entire group adjourned to the backyard at one point to smoke the alleged (and yet totally fake ass) Northern Lights aka dirty ditch weed. After smoking it was back to slamming beers like I was trying to keep Schidt beer from going into bankruptcy until the beer finally ran out. We had been hanging out in the Bastard Brother’s garage but without beer our rag tag group of miscreants headed inside to the basement, thats when I knew the shit was going to reach absolute apeshit levels.
In the interest of time and due to the fact I can’t remember the minor details I present you with a list of pertinent highlights.
- I sat down on the crappy couch in the basement (which is where we ended up) propping my foot on the coffee table while holding onto an imaginary steering wheel. When Slaytanic questioned what I was doing exactly I respond by damn near yelling “I’m DRIVING my car MOTHERFUCKER you gonna get in or what?!”
- I walked over to the out dated tv with an archaic VCR on top of it. Once I reached the VCR i flipped it upside down and proceeded to start unplugging cords by ripping them forcefully from their various attachments. Again when asked by Slaytanic what the hell I was up to I glared at him and demanded to know “How do you get into this thing?!!!”
- In the drunk urinary tradition I wondered over to the water heater and promptly started pissing all over it as well as the floor.
- I violently and voraciously vomited in the kitchen sink clogging the holy hell out of it with chunks of regurgitated fish sticks (I had at this time managed to escape from the confines of the basement and was freely walking around The Brother’s parent’s house.)
- I was quickly escorted back to the basement where I stumbled into The Brother’s Mother’s at home pottery making shop. Turned out she was really into making clay pots and shit as a relaxing hobby. Now the mother had lined the walls with those cheap rickety metal shelves (not to mention the cheap selves where lined up around the room not just against the wall). They were the kind you see in industrial warehouses anyway she used them for storing her clay pots in various stages of completion . I decided I needed to sit down so I attempted to sit but ran into a serious issue. I tried to sit on one of the shelves but my ass and lower back got sort of stuck so I got trapped in a squatting position. When I stood up I incidentally shoved the self back (thanks Einstein ya dick) and the entire book shelve of clay pots came crashing down in a hailstorm of homemade havoc. Every one of those pots hit the cement basement floor and exploded sending clay fragments flying in every direction.
- The next morning after crashing in the basement I went upstairs to make the bladder gladder when I ran into The Bastard Brother’s parents The Dullards. Now the Dullard’s had arrived home an hour or so before our encounter, and they were staring intently at me as if to ask “Who is this bum in our house?!” I hate people staring at me period not to mention I also was insanely hungover and no longer gave a shit about any of it. I turned my head as I passed them on the way to the crapper I stated in brutally blunt honesty “What me? Your sons are the real assholes here.” In all do favor I was made aware before hand that The Dullard’s hated my specific race so thats why I gave them a face full of shit, fuck’em their racists.
Around the crack of noon Slaytanic, Space Dog and I walked off into the sun rise never to see The Bastard Brothers or their racist parents The Dullards ever again, and I for one couldn’t be happier.