The other morning I woke up and felt for once like myself… softest sheets on my bed, nuzzled up warm, safe, and alone in my home. The waves a deep roar as they crash ashore fifty or so yards beyond my bedroom window. I rolled over and lingered a little longer, those being my last days in the only home I’ve ever really known as my own.
I got up decided as it was gray and dreary that I’d make my own coffee, the Bird Rock Backtalker’s blend, a special blend made by the bright and brilliant Jocelyn. It’s then I check my voicemail and listen to the worst of the worst from Uncle Tom. Here’s that one, and a whole selection of other priceless Uncle Tom voicemail gems…
“Cry and whine how thirsty they are…”
Gidget, the Chism Bag
Listen to Voicemail September 14, 2011. 7:44am:
“I know you thought I was looking at your body, wishing I could lick it and juice on it and everything like that, but no I was actually looking at how thin you were. Try to eat something today, try to eat more—forget the beach niggers, forget about being sociable and feed yourself today, you know? And, uh, heck no man, I couldn’t get rid of you if I made love to you. It’d be a bummer for ya, you’d be bummed. All these guys using you as a chism bag and here’s the old Uncle Tom loving you and having respect for you and giving you multiple orgasms, shit, I’d never get rid of you… so see, it all works out for reasons. I know you were wondering all of that, Uncle Tom wants my hot little body but no I was really looking at you, try to feed yourself a little better today. I’ll check ya.”
Gidget and the Hillbilly Monster
Listen to Voicemail August 16, 2011. 9:06am:
“There are many things you can Google. One of the places that stands out the most in the memories of where you’re at is a thing or a program called Hee-Haw. Hee-Haw was originated in, I think, the 60’s or the early 70’s. It was a stereotypical program of the Bible Belt and the midwest, or the mideast or somewhere back there—nonetheless, it’s wow. I hope California hasn’t affected you enough that the, the, the, hillbilly monster’s get ya. Oh well, check ya.”
Uncle Tom Helps Poor Young Women Who Need a Second Chance
Listen to Voicemail July 31, 2011, 5:23pm:
“Boy did I get hurt last night, did I get hurt last night. All I’m trying to do is trying to help poor young girls, poor young women who need a second chance that have been caught up into the system. All I try to do is help them. And these, these, these, these bad men try to put me down, and these poor young girls don’t know what to do, what to think. And, they tell me this and I get so hurt. And you know, there’s a new phrase in town, it’s a phrase that’s been around a long time, but you’re in town and it’s new, and whoever these people who’ve talked about me, that’ve tried to stop me from helping poor innocent young girls, poor innocent young women maybe, who knows. But, you can just call them a bitch fag. Down right hard bitch fag. That’s the new phrase, first you had beach nigger, and now you have bitch fag. And they’re a bitch fag, trying to stop a simple man trying to help young women. What’s this world coming to?!”
I’d call the police, but they made me promise not to call 911 again. I refused to promise, but since the last time I called I needed help with an emergency and they could care less and instead threatened to take me away to County Mental Health, again.
They then left, I guess they were corrected by whoever they called up.
So yeah, I am left to deal with life without the civil protection afforded to normal citizens of San Diego County.
Funny thing is, I met the Chief of Police, William Lansdowne at Harry’s a few weeks ago. I know when I get around to asking to speak to him that he’ll remember—I’ve been told that no one forget’s meeting Gidget.
Too bad I don’t live closer to my Uncle’s police force in Fort Wayne. I bet he would handle a few things around here that seem to be a little broken.
More voicemails stacked below…