Zimmy Page, comic author and wielder of puppets has another amusing tale from the road for us today. As a side note, I was in Nelson that year and I was never kidnapped by Lesbians… Hmmmm… I did distinguish myself by getting to the end of a show and puking about 60% of the way through my Hat Pass though… Heat exhaustion was the diagnosis… I just remember feeling like crap. Funny how different people remember an event in such different ways… Zimmy’s story is WAY more entertaining that mine.

Cheers!

d. – checkerhead

“The King Of The Lesbians”

Nelson, British Columbia, 1999. I am kidnapped by lesbians.

I had just finished my last show of the day. It was only 4 in the afternoon in a place where the sun stays out past ten. Five women, three of them festival volunteers, took all my gear from me, threw it into the green room storage area and quickly squired me off to the back of their big open jeep. They promised a little refreshment and Nelson is THE PLACE to find refreshments. The number one export is “jazz tobacco.”

It’s a very loose municipality, many of it’s people are ‘shrubbers’. That is to say, they ‘shrub’.

They grow herb…that’s ‘Mary Jane’ for you L 7’s. And they are all RICH.

Nelson is extraordinarily gorgeous and lush.They made the great film “Roxanne” there. It sits high in the mountains, surrounded by nothing but green hills and lakes. Splendid people live there. Groovy, tree huggin’, dirt munchin’ hairy armpit hippie types live there, as do many homosexuals. It’s a very tolerant, very laid-back San Francisco place, but without homeless people or garbage in the streets.

My kidnappers were really fun music-loving party lesbians. One of them was the local classic rock radio DJ. My show just tickled her…her friends too I guess because they just LOVED me! I can be pretty charming when I want to, and let’s face it, I’m mostly ‘chick’ anyway. That’s how I get so close to so many of them…I have a ‘mangina.’ It’s my hook!

I always say, if I was a woman, I would be soooo gay!

Anyway, without warning they start driving deep and far into the woods…leaving Nelson behind us. “It’s a surprize!” Sure, whatever…like I’m gonna piss off the locals.

“Okay ladies–you’re the man!”

We smoked and smoked and after a while, we arrive at this astounding glacier lake. It was like a mirrored sky–breathtaking!

“Clothing Optional Area”   Off come all the ladies garments…BOOMF. Two of these girls are very cute. One is not. One, I am pretty sure was a girl, a very BIG girl but I have been fooled before. Then they had their ringer. Hokey Smokes, Batman!

She was about 19 or 20. She looked like Jennifer Connelly, and as I soon found out, that includes the Jennifer Connelly ‘giant bush’ district. Of all these ‘Shrub Scouts”…she was the shrubbiest. Man oh mally…hippie chicks, pit hair. It happens. I had to prick up my ears to more clearly determine if the cricket noises were coming from the forest around us or the forest in her lap. It kinda looked like Larry from the Three Stooges was hiding in there.

Still, she was very cute and this is how my mind is reading all of this:

“Okay, I’m gonna get nekkid in front of these lesbians, women who do not LIKE to see men nekkid, but have brought me here for some reason. Oy vey iz mir! I better make a decent impression, I represent ALL males at this point! I better open up the porn room in my head and ‘chub up’ a bit.”

Let’s be honest here, if I may…some girls are born homo and some find their way to it when straight life doesn’t really work out for them…sorry. It’s true. “I have to represent!”

Then I notice that by and large, my one kidnapper was well, was ‘Bi’ and ‘Large’. She gives me looks of “maybe!”, and I just look down. No problem, they all know I’m married. I was VERY married at this point by the way, to a woman no man would fool around on…I was also at my leanest, three years sober with my little ass in the back and my big-ass Bon Jovi hair up front…best I was ever gonna look. Now, if you know me and have ever heard me brag or even seen me proudly doing my ‘pee-pee dance’, I do pack a little bit of heat…know what I sayin’, dawg?

Still, as I dropped my drawers and folded up my t-shirt, there before me…a disturbance in the force. My one and only super-power is out-matched…it’s the kryptonite of my penis’ chubbing up–a GLACIER LAKE. Can you do the math, kids? Turtle time!

At first I just strolled up to the edge, put two toes in and ”YIKES!”

The time for wading had passed…you follow me? “Vroop vroop vroop! Emergency cold!”

My nipples just popped right off of my chest.

“Bells, alarms! KLAXON HORNS! Just get all the way down in the water, you stupid thumb-dick!”  Uhhh…for the record, this is the real story, man. Only me.

Anyway, the punch was even better. After a while, we lay on the beach in the rocks and chatted…the Disc Jockey had found out about my wife being in Playboy and they all wanted to see pictures. In my wallet, I had 3 or 4 Genuine Playboy Trading Cards of Debra Jo and my wedding photos…pictures of me marrying this goddess…this Lesbian Ganesha…my own private Mons Venus Mecca.

They passed the photos nakedly between themselves, sunning on the rocks…every card handled with such slow and beguiled reverence…it was just fantastic to watch! They couldn’t get over it, my wife was the final nail in the ‘lovin’ me to death’ coffin. They loved me, they loved my show, they liked talking to me, but to learn of this blond goodness was too much for them.

And just for that one red, swollen, glistening moment, I was “The King Of The Lesbians.”

This entry was posted on Sunday, May 9th, 2010 at 10:24 am and is filed under Guest Blogger, Zimmy Speaks. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.