I received this e-mail from Thorn earlier this week……
From: Thornton Sully email@example.com
To: Gary Clark firstname.lastname@example.org
Sent: Tuesday, May 21, 2013 8:58 AM Subject:Granny
Apparently granny does not drink. I have yet to see her story.
So this is what I told him in reply to his e-mail;
I’m not sure where a Granny story would fit into the entries here. Everybody’s talking about all these highbrow philosophers and writers and high-powered thinkers. Hell, down here in White Rock, Texas we don’t know nuthin’ bout those guys. We were raised on Mark Twain and Superman Comic books and Dick and Jane and the women’s underwear pages of the Sears catalog.
But being the good sport and deranged writer that I am, and at your suggestion, I’m gonna throw a Granny story into the fray and see who comes up with the wishbone.
So, here for your decision to either post or not to post, is a story that if you’re tough enough to post it, I’m tough enough to take the blame for it.
Since he’s not here to speak for himself, I’ll just go ahead and post the story as my entry into this contest. And, if you like this kind of Redneck humor, come by my blog, www.GrandmaSparkyandMe.com and read more of the stories.
That being said, here, with no apologies to the literary genius of all you who have entered the contest, is my story,
Cheater’s Bar, three blocks past Skid Row. It was one of those nights. You know what I’m talkin’ about. You’ve been there.
I was leanin’ against the bar, sharin’ a few Flaming Fuzzy Fuckers with my wingman, Carmac McCarthy. “This ain’t No Country for Old Men nor A Child of God,” he said.
I harked and spat into the sawdust. “Yeah, you’re prob’ly right,” I said. I threw another double shot down and wiped my mouth and three day beard against Penelope Cruz’ bare shoulder. She grinned and slid her hand down real slow from my chest all the way to my banduki.
“Careful. I’m full loaded,” I said.
She rubbed her thumb across the trigger.
“Hold on there, girlie,” I said. “Don’t wanna go off half—,”
All of a sudden, a gust of hot wind, the Devil’s breath, reeking of hellfire and brimstone, blew the swinging gates open and standing there, wearing her nightgown and fuzzy slippers, and carrying my 12 gauge, was Granny. That evil Rooster, wearing a Colonel Sander’s costume, perched on her shoulder.
“This has gotta be a bad dream,” I said to myself. “I’ll just have to wing it.”
Then the gates swung back, hitting her in the knee, and squeezing her left breast between ‘em. It was kinda like one of those Chinese handcuff things. The harder she pulled, the tighter they squeezed. She set up a mournful howl.
The rooster crowed.
I woke up screaming.
36 thoughts on “Down at Cheater’s Bar”
I’ve been waiting on your entry and you don’t owe anyone an apology for anything you write.That first paragraph reminded me of the detective shows we use to listen to on the radio.
When I got to the part about Penelope Cruz, I started laughing, “In his dreams”! It appears I was correct. Were you sorry to wake up?
Ah, Sweet Peggy, you know me too well. The first paragraph was my tribute to those old radio shows that I still listen to, thanks to Sirius XM Radio. The whole Carmac McCarthy thing with the two book titles and Penelope in the story were indeed the inspiration for this story. I’m a HUGE fan of Carmac McCarthy AND Penelope Cruz and “All the Pretty Horses” was the perfect blend of both. Waking up from such a dream was not what I wanted to do!
OMG another fall off the chair laughing situation. Damn it man – you don’t just wing it – you go for the kill every time. I’m going to go to bed tonight with that dang vision in my head of Granny being squeezed…yikes!!! Dreams are good – its the waking up screaming part that disturbs the benefits of sleeping…per chance to dream. LOVE IT!!!
“…and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks…”
If only!!! You know, standin’ there staring at that old woman with her boob caught in the swingin’ saloon gates was one of those ‘natural shocks’ that give a person so many different emotions at the same time that your brain just kinda shuts down for a minute to reboot itself. And you just stand there all slack jawed and bug eyed tryin’ to make sense of a situation that there’s no sense to. But then, that’s my life………..
Truly, is there anyone out there you would rather have put sleepy sand in your eyes and drift you off to never-never land? Faries of the night, tooth bound angels, and god’s own leprechauns hold the envy of all when Gary Clark weaves a bedtime story. Oh I don’t know, maybe it is the sweetness of the lovely tale or the chubbiness of the thing, and I would bet that back gold filling Ms Cruz’ is dying for one of your cradle-songs.
Disgus choose to forget who I am tonight but perhaps you know anyways.
Brother Mike, I hope my little tale of broken dreams and smashed nipples gave you pleasant dreams, for that was my intent. Someday we will all sit around a campfire at Big Sur, pass around a bottle of Boone’s Farm, and I will regale those assembled with tales yet to be dreamed up. My friends around here do not allow me to tell a Granny story at the campfire because they know once that floodgate has been opened and the stories begin to flow, there is no rest for anyone until I am secured and bound and dragged to a far away corner of the ranch, out of hearing distance of the rest. Thanks for the good words and peaceful sleep to you.
I’ve been having the same problem with Discus for the last few days. I have to sign in, password and all, just to get to this site. pd
You had me at Penelope Cruz 🙂 …I would have stayed asleep and told Granny that Jed was in a fight with Jethro over Ellie May and then got on my horse and rode the pinto all the way to hell and back….with Penelope 😉
Kinky!!! Why didn’t I think of that……
This is too funny for me to comment on it. Gary, you are insane!
Sal, to receive such a complement from The Master Flasher is a prize beyond any other. I Thank you!
Insane, Hell yeah! And sometime I like to stop taking my meds and let those evil voices take over when I write. Mike Stang is one of those evil voices. Y’all think he’s a real person and a brilliant writer. My dirty little secret is…………….uh oh, gotta turn this computer off and play like I’m asleep. Nurse Ratchet is outside my cell with her ear to the door……………………………
And you, Salvatore Buttaci, are hillarious!
Hilarious and wrong! I can’t unsee that- My eyes! My mental eyes!!!!!
Thanks, Tiffany and I know how it is when something comes along and makes y’a just wanna poke out your mind’s eye to get rid of the painful visual. Unfortunately, this is one of those that will never go away.
Glad you got a laugh. People have been laughing at my writing for years, even the serious stuff….. I got an e-mail from a prospective agent one time that said, “Sorry but this just isn’t what we’re looking for right now, but thanks for the laugh.” Problem was, it was a sad story about kid lost in a snow storm.
I have a friend of mine who says, “that’s door ### that can’t be shut again” (counting down to zero).
As for the story about the kid in the snow storm… sometimes certain people are just… special. Once they’ve turned their helmet to get some air, well, they get a bit better after that… in theory.
You are just one funny guy with all kinds of ‘ventures up your sleeve. Come down to my saloon, and I’ll give you somethin’ to take care of what ails you. . .and from what I read here and elsewhere, you gots the need for lots a ale!
There’s something up with this comment board again. It gave me the third degree and kept telling me there’s was another email like mine registered. Yup. That would be me. . .finally, it let me load my darn comments. Sheesh!
You knew I was gonna do it — Not my nature to spare the readers the pain and agony of YET another Granny story. But here’s the honest, my hand to God truth about this entry. I wasn’t going to enter this contest because there are so many incredible, talented writers with equally incredible stories entered here that I was going to sit this one out. Then THORN sent me that e-mail and shamed me into entering……..so blame him…..
Lookin’ forward to a visit to your saloon and having my ails taken care of. Nobody ’round here cares if I’m ailin’ or not. Dang ’em anyway.
Be ashamed…be very ashamed
should read “what ALES you” sorry, the editor thingy
Hey folks. I have a backlog of stories to post, and will delve out a few before the end of the day (hiccup!)
Don’t make me send Granny with my 12 guage skunk gun to motivate y’a. Get some stories rollin’…………. Get everybody’s mind off this one!
Just posted one. Somehow i made me think of Granny.
In my dream, I loaded up the banduki and it only shot blanks. Yep. Thats all america needs now is an additional name for the male member. This story is fully loaded. Granny got game. And now i’m wondering is this little saloon on the outskirts of East Hell Blvd? A man with this much humor and talent needs not carry a banduki. Gawd this is hysterical! I needed some cowboy genuis today. Thanks amigo!
Banduki’s aside… You sayin’ “Granny got game” has me rollin’.
The truth is Tif. i hope i can call you Tif. Granny and i go back a ways, so I speak from experience. I was visiting a doctor in the Himalayans. A retreat spa. I was fatigued and wanted to be healed. Dr.Lopsang took great care of me…but to my surprise-or-not, he said I needed sexual healing. I was trapped and called Granny. She got her gun and took the first flight over to help a sista out. we planned my escape… but she stayed to take my treatment. She came back all refreshed, looking 10 years younger.Himilayan Boob job, butt lift… I’m telling you…Grannys got game. TRUE story.
Dang – I’d forgot all about that. That was a Long time ago. I think that was one of the first published Granny stories I think. Wasn’t that in Tales of Darla Whisper?
If I may…
I don’t believe Granny’s adventures invaded the Whisper series. I got a hole in my ass to attest to that even though I know the old girl is deadeye with a shotgun, Katz is the one who fired the bullet. True love.
I do recall a great story from Kyle, something about fifty dollar, no more, and an audience; looky loos getting their special healing. There are soo many to recall. I checked my file under submitted stories to awwyp and could not believe it. Reading through some of them, some were not too bad. Right.
There have been some true classics over the years, Stang. It’s truly a shame most of them perished in the virtual fire that consumed AWwYP last year.
I vaguely remember that story of Katz journey into the I Ching and other ancient insightful and healing arts. It’s one that needs to be resurected from the ashes.
Regarding the hole in your ass, I felt your pain when she blasted you. But I couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit at the deadlyness of it all and I swear I felt guilty about laughing.
I am sad to say, I can’t unsee that.
<—————– touches the brim of his Stetson and 'Howdy's' Ms. Katz.
Thanks for the good words. But I won't take credit for renaming the male member. Somewhere, a few days past when Peggy Dobbs story was posted, somebody else "Euphemized" (that's a word I just invented) the male member to be the banduki. I think it's pretty stud myself. Just sounds so damn SPORTY!
If you find that you just can't get thru another day without a good Grandma Story, click on over to my blog, http://www.grandmasparkyandme.com If those stories don't make y'a want to open an artery then you're as tough as I always thought you were.
Lots of Sporty Members at a word with you press country xlub. Some alien on the site, just appeared out of no where asked if I would load his banduki in Peggys story.
But when i looked up the word banduki, its latin root meant Sam Adams. Literature is so subjective. But now this entry… Pure Literature! I will visit Granny, maybe she can give me some LOVE advice….there’s your next story!
Wow, what a story to read first thing in the morning. It woke me up! You are one talented writer Gary Clark! So entertaining!
Your entry is so expressive. I feel the sexual heat, the swagger and the pain. Whoooie…my ten gallon hat can’t hold all the emotions your words shot off.
Gary, I haven’t read this yet, but will sometime today. I loved your last Granny post. these are amazing touching and real. You won’t remember me, but I am a good friend of Carol’s from high school days and we still keep in touch. I loved all your family and remember you well. Keep writing!!!!!!! clarice cox eisenbach
Oh, but I DO remember you. I remember you lived over behind the church and are so beautiful. That was back more years than I want to remember. (early 60’s I think!) Thanx for being a fan and loving Granny Stories as much as I do.