There’s only room for one towel boy
One day last week, my sidekick Terry Vender and I spent some time thinking about how we could live longer. We came up with some pretty good ideas on how to do it but it’s ultimately up to me to decide on which direction we should go with this. Terry is a Government man so he has access to all kinds of privileged, classified information that they store in the main frame computer at the City of Winters maintenance yard.
Terry says that there’s an entire underground complex under the maintenance yard that may go down more than six stories deep. He says he is not authorized to go to the lower floors because that’s where the mayor and city manager have all the wild parties with the elite citizens of the City of Winters. I probably shouldn’t say anything, but Terry says there have been secret meetings by all the big wheels discussing how to control all the people from Davis that flock to Winters every weekend.
I was glad to hear this, because those people from Davis keep peeing on my hedges because they drink so much beer when they drive the 100 miles or so from Davis to here. For some reason those Davis guys don’t like us, so recently those Davis guys came up with a plan to dump all their sewage into Putah Creek thinking that it would all wash down here and make Winters stink. Well they never thought about the fact that for most of the year the creek flows the other way and goes to Nebraska or someplace like that.
Anyway, Terry told me that he knows this place in Davis where they have a program that will freeze you and then thaw you out in the future. He says it is called USCryotherapy, so we decided to check this place out the other night. When we entered the establishment there were two really, really fine babes that greeted us. They were both checking me out and were being really, really nice to me. Terry was getting kinda jealous.
I was figuring I might invite them to party with us but just then, the whole damn UC Davis basketball team came in, and those girls didn’t want anything to do with me, or Terry either. I tried to talk to them but I guess they got annoyed because they took us into this one room they said had a temperature of about 300 below zero. To make matters worse, they made me put on some shorts and then they hid my pants. Next, they closed a big steel door that had windows so they could see us suffer. They didn’t let us out until an hour or so later. I think they must have thought the window was one of those one-way vision thingies because I could see those girls having a good old time talking to those basketball players.
Man. I tell you. UC Davis must have the best looking team in the world, because these guys looked like those models that wear all those fancy clothes in the Sears catalog. Me and Terry never looked this good in our whole lives, however, I do look pretty good now, as you can see in this picture.
While Terry was in the corner crying, I got to know these guys and we became best friends. To my left is 6’ 4” Brynton Lemar, the team’s top scorer, and on the right is 6’ 6” Chima Moneke. These guys love me and they are going to get me a pass to get into the locker room to help their coach figure stuff out. Lemar, like me, has a big brain, so he has a GPA of 3.5. When I was in school I had a 7.3, so my brain is just a little bigger.
I just have to figure out a way to dump Terry because those guys didn’t want him around. They said they only have room for one towel boy and that was me. Anyway, when we walked out of that place, for some reason, my sciatica pain went away and I could jump and play and run around like a teenager. Terry was still crying and told me to shut up about the whole night.
I told Terry about the picture of me with the ball players and Terry says, “Did you take the picture with your phone?”
So I replies, “How the hell would I have the picture if I used someone else’s phone — wouldn’t someone else have the picture?”
Terry says, “Oh.”
“Jealous,” I say!