Having Trouble With My Direction

MyrtleManorUpside-down, psychotic reaction. -The Cult

Another Monday passed us and another week ahead.

I think I have found my dream calling. I may finally have seen the “tap dancing Jesus H. Christ” light. I know what I want to be when I grow up.

I want to be a trailer park landlord. In Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

Not a fancy new trailer park with new modular homes. I am talking single wides on wheels. Maybe a couple half assed run down Air Stream silver bullets and other tear drop like gypsy wagons. As Brad Pitt in the movie Snatch called ’em “Caravans” periwinkle blue ones even. A couple pink flamingos, and other Kitschy ornaments and I am all set.

See I always said, I was going to retire into a nice motor home and spend my last years traveling the country and tramp around. I am talking a nice diesel pusher with pop outs and full amenities. I would sell everything I had, cash out and hit the road. What better way to retire? I am not paying taxes, moving around the country in my RV and Harley. North in the summer, south in the winter. Im not stuck banging a bunch old lonely women in nursing homes with Viagra and STDs. I’m out in the world free. RV campsite to campsite. Meeting fellow travelers living on the road. Yellowstone, Devils Tower, Alaska, Grand Canyon, Yosemite Park.

Then I started watching Welcome to Myrtle Manor on the TLC channel. It’s about a trailer park in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Its everything I dream about in an old tourist trap RV/Trailer park in a vacation spot. Low rent, baby momma drama, pink flamingos, Kitsch, Art Deco and Bungalow styles all mixed in to one.

Its so tacky but at the same time fun in a highly manipulative way. I could thrive and take over in there like Lex Luther at a sheriff’s youth ranch for first time offenders. I could be the KING OF RANCHO CUCAMONGA! I am the only one paying CASH!

Look at this list of characters:

  • A couple of sluts selling hotdogs on the beach for rent money.
  • A slut and a night club promoter who are fighting jealousy issues.
  • A token trailer park security guard with an IQ of about 68
  • A drunk mother of the night club promoter son above
  • A drifter maintenance kid who cant change a light bulb
  • A gay man and rather ugly woman running a beauty salon / hair dressers trailer for the tenants.
  • A Park Manager who’s father put her in charge of the trailer park trying to get the back rent from deadbeats.

I can’t stop watching! Its worse then a bad car accident with blood and guts all over the road. I have to look and see. Whats really bad? I have fantasies of running and living in a place just like this. How I would be making money hand over fist, a dozen sexual harassment lawsuits, more kids with different mothers to make that kooky Duggar family with 50 kids and a clown car vagina look like the Walton’s.

I cant get enough of it. There are above ground pools, putt putt golf, tattoos, dyed hair and fake boobs in bikinis. Its like some TV producer looked inside my head and opened up the twisted scumbag file and made a tv show about it.

I am transfixed. I am baffled. I am like a small retarded kid looking at all the blinking Christmas lights before shitting myself. You know that moment in your life when something clicks in your mind and everything makes sense. Happiness rolls through your body, and your mind is telling you what words to put together and scream at the top of your lungs and all that comes out is rather out of character killing a cat sounding screams and spitting and even though you hear it and your mind goes “what the fuck was that noise you just made” but you don’t care and continue on. Yea thats me. Well sort of. Ok not really. Well a little bit. Sorry. Not sorry.

I love this shit.

Let ‘er rip, tater chips!

One thought on “Having Trouble With My Direction

  1. you do know, don’t you , that if you keep sticking your tongue way down in your cheek like that it’s gonna freeze?

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