One of my duties as Mayor of the trailer park is to organize a few annual gatherings, and the owners of the trailer park gave me an entertainment budget of $56.93 for the entire year! I can’t even get entertainment for myself for that amount let alone entertain 300 trailer trash residents. Hell, the last time I called out for entertainment, the girl wanted $200 an hour, and after she met me, she raised the price to $300.
Well, I took advantage of the Memorial Day weekend and organized a park picnic for Sunday. However, I suggested it be a covered plate event to save on cash. I took half of my annual budget and invested it in a keg of beer. Thank goodness that several of the residents work at the local brewery, and I was able to get a company discount.
There are a lot of old war vets in the park, and I wanted to make sure that they all had a nice time on Sunday. The majority of the vets living in the park have been outcasts from their families, so I wanted to make them feel at home in our park.
As we were drinking beer and having a grand time, in came my new girlfriend, Ginger, with several other girls. I admit it was a hot day out, but these ladies were wearing very little — next to nothing to be more precise. They sure did catch the eyes of all the old, drunken vets. As I looked around, the old coots were drooling, and it wasn’t for my BBQ chicken. With Ginger and the other young semi -dressed girls was old Mrs. Pritts. Yes, Mrs. Pritts the 80-year- old resident that ran against me in the Mayor’s election.
Right away, I asked Ginger why she brought all those half- naked girls to the party with her.
Ginger answered, “I used to work with them down at the Bottoms- Up Club.”
“THAT’S A STRIP CLUB!”
“Duhhhhhh, ” Ginger responded sarcastically.
“You mean that you used to be a pole dancer?”
“Now, you’re catching on big boy!”
Then I said, “Well what are your girls doing with old Mrs. Pritts?”
“Well,” said Ginger. “Mrs. Pritts is our Madam; she owns the Bottom Up Club!”
“Ginger, are you still in that line of work?”
“Of course not, I’m in Internet Sales now!”
That last comment made me wonder. Ginger’s trailer is smaller than mine, so she had no room for inventory. What could she possibly be selling on the internet?
Just then there was an explosion which was followed by two more explosions! As I looked behind me to see where the ruckus was coming from, I saw several of the old drunken war vets shooting bottle rockets and roman candles at the poor little pole dancers!
I quickly ran over to the vets and told them to stop, and then I asked the commander of the unit (whom was dressed in battle gear) exactly what was he thinking?
Sergeant Riggs quickly answered, “Mrs. Pritts said that we could shoot a load at the girls for twenty bucks! It sounded like fun at the time.”
I walked up to Mrs. Pritts and said, “Let me ask you something. When you were a morale builder way back when in the war, were you rooting for the Confederacy or the Union?”
Mrs. Pritts didn’t waste anytime answering my questions. She gathered her girls and headed back to the Bottoms-Up Club.
As I look for the bright side to this picnic, I guess it would have to be that the old war vets were armed with fireworks rather than Viagra!