Philly The Man, The Myth, And His Machete

Over the Years My Mother has Employed a Colorful Cast of Various Characters to Help Out around Her Farm. It’s Nothing glamorous mind You it’s usually some form of Strenuous Manual Labor (Weeding, Clearing Brush, Planting, Landscaping, Tree Trimming, and Painting for Example), But She Treats Them All as Her Equal and Pays far Better than Most Around these rather Impoverished Parts.

One Day She calls Me Up out of the Blue and informs Me She recently Hired a Latino Man Named Philly to Clear Brush, and that He was in Her words and I quote “Incredible”. She then proceeded to tell me that watching Him Work as “Amazing to See”. I found this strange because what the fuck was My Mom doing standing on Her porch Staring at the Poor Guy while He worked? It painted a pretty creepy mental image is all I’m saying. In all honestly I didn’t understand what the possible appeal could be in just observing a Person Working so I declined to come by. Well fuck My life the next thing I know these Philly Calls as I referred to them started to become more and more common. My Mother is No Stranger to Using Constant Pressure to wear someone Down until the simply give Up usually out of Frustration or Exhaustion. I am No Exception and it didn’t take My Mother long to Steam Rolled Me into Complying. I told Her the next Time Philly came I would pop by to see this fucking 8th Wonder of the World.

              

Even After Conceding My Mother still went out of the Way to fucking Track down some shitty Video She had shot previously of Philly on Her Laptop. She then of course Immediately Texted it to me with some sort of excited caption and a line of Goofy Smiling Emoji faces. The Video though in all Intents and Purposes was one of those Crappy and Cliche Poorly Recored Videos. You know what the fuck I’m talking about the Videos that are completely out of Focus and Blurry as fuck for the Entire Video. Also The Subject of the Video is constantly out of frame as the Camera waves around Wildly. It gives You the Impression the Person Shooting the Video are having Convulsions while Riding in the Bed of a Pick Up Truck that’s Barreling Down a Gravel Road. In Response to the Garbage Video I didn’t the only thing I could think of and I utilized the Principle of White Lies, and told Her it was Cool and I was psyched to see Philly in Action.

Inspire of the Fact I am NOT anything fucking close to a Morning Person and that’s the Understatement of the fucking Millennium. I was irritated that My Mother required I arrive before Philly so I wouldn’t miss anything. Thus I got up at the Ass Crack of Dawn and Drove Over to My Mother’s Farm to see the Show Live and in Person. At 7:30 am a Small Dark Blue Pick Up Truck started making its way Down the Long Drive up to the Farm House. It pulled up and Stopped outside of the Gate My Mother Installed to make a designated a Yard Area. She did this because well the Farm House sits on 1,150 Akers of Land, and She wanted some Definition to the Land immediately around the Farm House Itself.

                  

A Short Latino Man hopped out of the Passenger Side of the Truck and walked around back to the Bed of the Truck which I assumed was to get His Tools or what have You. I was right and I was Dumbfounded since the Gentleman retrieved Only Two Items from the back of the Truck. The Man grabbed a 72 Ounce Igloo Water Thermos and a Menacing Looking Machete and that was all. The Truck pulled away and headed off towards the Main Road as the Gentleman walked purposefully towards the front Porch. It was then I realized I could Fault Philly for wanting to get an Early Start since it was the Middle of July and the Days had been Topping Out at 100 Degrees with Ease. Starting Early meant cooler Temperatures insuring Philly would be Well on His way Before the Sun was High in the Sky glaring Down on Him like a Massive Space Heater.

The Other thing that’s important to mention was the Job Philly was here to do was Nothing Less than Dounting as He was there to Clear the Brush that Dominated the Tree Line that Bordered the so called Back Yard (though the back of the House isn’t Fenced just the Front and Side I have No fucking Idea Why). It’s a Real Deal cluster fuck thats for sure. The Tree Line had become Overwhelmed by a Variety of Parasitic Vines which had made Their way up the Tree Trunks and them Blended together in a seriously Thick Canopy. The Canopy obscures ALL light from hitting the Forrest Floor, Chokes Out Saplings, and Ultimately Kills the Adult/Juvenile Trees.

                    

Unfortunately for Philly the Boarder had been Neglected for over a Decade at Least so He was Facing a Virtual Wall of Tree Limbs incased in a Spider Web of Vines that were Strangling Everything. Philly walked right Past Us on the Porch waving Politely and saying a Quick Casual Hello as He headed Straight toward the Back. Philly was walking with Definite Determination ready to Attack the Task at Hand with all He Had to Muster. I must admit that My Mother if anything Under Sold Philly’s unique Set of Skills and Flawless Talent. Once He reached the Back where He’d be Working for the Day He gently set down His Water Thermos, tighten His Grip on His Machete, Evaluated the Situation, and then Kicked into Action. Philly went Full fucking Tilt All Out and Started Slashing Away as if He was a Super Human Cyborg declaring War on the Woods.  He looked like a One Man Landscaping Crew as Debris went Flying all Over as Philly Fought His Way Through the almost Impervious Wall of Vegetation. Before We Knew It Philly Was piling Up Insane Mounds of Cleared Brush like a fucking Madman on a Rampage.

Philly worked for almost Ten Hours Straight in the Brutal Heat and Stifling Humidity, But He Never Stopped for a Break, Lunch, or Even to Use the Bathroom. In Fact Philly never Slowed His Frantic Pace the Entire Time. It was as if Philly went into a Meditative Trance where all there was int he World was Him, The Brush, and His Trusty Machete. Philly was the True Master of HIs Machete wielding it at Break Neck Speeds with Surgical Persuasion. Something to Behold doesn’t Even Begin to Cover it. Even though I started to feel extremely self conscious Watching Philly Work I couldn’t Look Away to Save My fucking Life as I was Overcome with an All Encompassing State of Awe. I remember thinking to Myself that Philly must Legitimately have a Heart as Strong as a Race Horse because that Job was the Most Brutal Cardio I have ever Witnessed.

            

A While later on I realized My Mother hadn’t mentioned Philly in quite a while so I inquired as to What was Going On. My Mother told Me that Philly had gone Missing in Actions as it were and She didn’t know What was going on or if She would Ever See Philly Again for that matter. Now People go MIA around here and its not uncommon for People to Disappear only to Reappear Days Later with an Explanation. Time Passed and still there was No Sign of Philly at All until so much Time had Passed We had to Accept the Inevitable Truth of the Matter. The Inevitable Truth was Philly for whatever reason was Long Gone and Wasn’t Going to Be Back on the Scene for Good. The one thing I regret about the whole affair is that I didn’t take a Good Video of Philly Myself but that would have made Me Feel Ungodly Creepy. I still hold the Hope that One Day without Rhyme or Reason Philly will Suddenly Sow Up Again. Who Knows Stranger Shit has Happened.

Thanks For Reading,

   By Les Sober  

Life Without Beer??? WHAT!!!

So recently I decided as an experiment to put down the beer for 2 weeks. I put down the hard liquor and all that other stuff and drugs, but couldn’t help myself to a few whipits, I mean the jackassed government only gives me $14 of food stamps a month and I can’t use this on smokes or beer so what better.

So I did this experiment, still felt like shit and got drunk. I went overboard but whatelse is new. Hard liquor, control, and my presence usually equal drama. For as little drama as I supply sober, I more then make up a few shots, no wait it really only takes one drink to get the drama train started.

Yeah blah blah blah. So I went back to beer. Drama really doesn’t happen with beer unless I’m drinking because I’m sad and well I’ve only done that drink beer sad thing twice in the past year. First time ended with a broken emergency supply kit in my vehicle (and a very angry friend’s grandmother who wants to crucify me) and the second time ended with a seven hour phone call. Maybe longer. Not sure, was worshipping the porcelin god in my bathroom.

So twice in a year isn’t so bad. It’s far worse with hard.

Long story short. I think I have a gluten allergy. Which means no beer!!!! I can get over the lack of chips and pretzels and processed crap and bread but no beer!!!!

All I know is I am A LOT happier the past week and certain ailments (most notably dry skin and random happy 31st birthday acne) have mystically cleared up.

Right now, I feel like Courtney Love probably felt when she was becoming an actress like, “Oh shit I need to put on a dress AND underwear??? And pose like a lady ??? And not get drunk that bad!!!!???? WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!”.

Well she only lasted well maybe a year or two before she was drunk and screaming at Madonna on MTV.

Anyway that’s how I feel. I am not ready to put on professional people clothes and wear ties and drink glasses on wine with equally stuffy people sipping on cosmos. NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!

I mean I’m more a box of wine type, but there’s no good place to put that in my car. It’s like when I used to travel with my hooka, it was great company for trips by oneself but I like red wine and I’m a bit of a mess.

So does anyone have ideas of either A) What I should drink? B) Where I should drink? OR C) The next establishment they would like to see me banned from. (and YES I have not been bannished from anywhere since “ASSGATE” in Philly. Almost 3 years ago!!!!!)

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SpaceDog