Saturday Update

I was chatting with my dear friend and Vox neighbor Ginger Sister, when up popped the topic of Voxing.  We both lamented that we've been negligent in our posting habits.  I haven't been posting much because my home computer died, and I either have to write at work or try and type big thoughts on tiny little DorkFone buttons. 

Ginger Sister has a far different reason.  It started with a beer after work with Dave, the guy who works in Ginger's hospital's kitchen.  Well, one beer turned into 15 beers and 5 Jägermeister shots, as happy hour became extremely happy hour.  Tempus fugited, and before Ginger knew it, Tami the bartender was giving last call.

Ginger Sister pulled a wad of hundreds out of her bra, tossed two on the bar, and walked outside.

Across the parking lot, a giant Escalade with tinted windows revved its engines and flashed its highbeams. The Escalade pulled up. The driver rolled down her window. Ginger broke out into a grin.

"Lindsay freakin' Lohan?"

"Ginger freakin' Sister?"

The two BFF's hugiggled.  Dave smiled awkwardly. 

"Get your ass in here girl.  Who's the geek?"

"Dave from work."

"Dave from work, I'm Lindsay from boarding school.  Now get your ass in the back."

The Escalade smelled like patchouli and sex. As she pulled out on Old Brickyard Road, Lindsay reached into the cooler between the front seats, pulled out two wide-mouth bottles of Mickey's Malt Liquor, and handed one to Ginger.

"Good Lord! I haven't drunk the chug-and-chuck Mickey's since we stole the Headmaster's Benz and drove to Atlantic City."

"I KNEW you'd remember, Gingie, even though you were so drunk you ended up yarking all over the back seat."

"It wasn't the beer, Linds.  It was watching you make out with that Portuguese croupier while you drove."

"Yeah, yeah."  The two redheads clinked bottles, then chugged the contents all in one.  Lindsay belched basso profundo.  Ginger Sister laughed, opened her window, and nailed a street-sign with her empty bottle.

"Nice one.  Watch this!" Lindsay sped up, pulling alongside a pickup truck.  Now going 80 miles an hour, she eased left, then threw the bottle into the truck's bed.  The alarmed truck driver veered into the emergency lane and stopped.  Lindsay waved and kept on driving.  Ginger Sister grabbed two more Mickey's from the cooler, passing one to Lindsay.

"I've really missed you, Gingie."

"Me too, hon."

As the Escalade strayed into the other lane, Dave coughed nervously in the back seat.

"Oh, fuck off, Dave from work." The girls laughed.

The radio started "Sweet Child o' Mine," and Ginger shrieked.

"This is my favorite song!"

"Mine, too! Don't forget, I was with you in Vancouver that night!" shouted Lindsay, reaching for the volume knob.

The two girls sang along at the tops of their lungs.


In the back seat, Dave had gone from drunk-giddy to drunk-grumpy. "Can you turn that down?"

Lindsay reared her head back and laughed.  "Fuck off, Dave from work, ya fuckin' weenis."

The girls laughed; Slash wailed; Dave groaned.

Old Brickyard Highway merged into I-69.

"HAH! We're 69-ing," Lindsay shouted.  Ginger laughed, opened her window, and nailed an exit sign with her empty.

"Damn, girl.  Great arm."

"Thanks." Ginger opened two more beers and handed one to Lindsay.

"Um, where are we going?" Dave asked from the back seat.

"Oh, Dave from work.  You are such a killjoy."

"But I have to work tomorrow!" Ginger drained the last from a fifth of Old Crow, turned around in her seat, and smashed the bottle across Dave's head.

"Call in sick," she purred, as Dave collapsed in a bloody heap. 

The girls laughed. "Let's go to Canada–I'd love some bacon."

I-69 gave way to I-94, and on to Detroit.  At the border crossing, Officer Gary St.John of the RCMP walked up to Escalade. Immediately, he recognized Lindsay Lohan and Ginger Sister–their 2008 transcontinental spree of vandalism, petty theft and public urination is still taught at the RCMP Academy. 

"YOU! You're THEM!"

Lindsay gunned the Escalade, crashing through the barrier, and speeding into the Ontario night.  The big Caddy ate up the road, till Lindsay spotted a landmark she recognized.  Ginger SIster opened a pint of Evan Williams and took a weary swig.

"Hang on, toots. We're going off-road."

Lindsay pushed the 4X4 button on the dash, and turned down a narrow, weedy track. The Escalade bounced and creaked for about a quarter mile till they came to a small cabin.  Lindsay stopped in front of the cabin. "I have some guns stashed here.  Let's load up.  And I gotta pee."

The girls walked into the cabin.  While Ginger Sister visited the little girls' room, Lindsay slid aside a giant bookcase, revealing a small arsenal.  Uzis, an M-16, a pump shotgun with a sawed-off barrel, and more handguns than Plaxico Burress's glove box. Lindsay tucked a Glock 9mm into her waistband, and grabbed an Uzi.  Ginger tucked the sawed off shotgun into her trenchcoat, slid a Beretta into her left pocket, and smiled as she picked up the big, chromed .44 Magnum.

"Aww, Linds.  You remembered!"

Lindsay gave her friend a kiss on the cheek. "I remember how heartbroken you were when we had to throw Betsy down that Toledo storm-drain."

Ginger smiled, remembering all the store windows they'd shot out and drunks they rolled.

The girls walked outside, only to see three rabid caribou, tearing Dave's flesh from his trampled carcass.

"Looks like Mr. Wonderful got out to pee at the wrong time," Lindsay mused. Ginger shook her head, then noticed that Dave had her pint of Evan Williams in one of his hands. 

"That thieving mother…" Ginger pulled out the Magnum, and shot the caribou dead. She gingerly (grin) stepped over a caribou carcass, and grabbed her bottle out of Dave's hand. She smeared caribou blood on her cheeks, guzzled the rest of the whiskey, threw the bottle high in the air, and with a primal yell, blasted it out of the air.

The shot echoed across the woods. Then there was a click, and a soft, deep voice said, "Ms Lohan? Ms Sister? Real slowly now, I need ya to put your guns on the ground, and put your hands up."

The girls looked at each other, then saw that there were nine more Mounties walking slowly from behind trees. Lindsay shook her head, and gently set the Uzi on the ground.  Ginger followed suit, and the two old partners-in-crime were taken into RCMP custody.

The Mounties found a gram of cocaine in the glove box, and a rocket-propelled grenade launcher in the back of the Escalade, not to mention three dead caribou, and the well-gnawed dead Dave.  Ginger Sister was charged and convicted on two counts of littering–a third degree felony in Canada.  Lindsay Lohan pleaded out to one count of Accessory to Littering, a misdemeanor.  She paid a $5000 fine, and as a public service, was forbidden to make any more movies for two years.  Ginger Sister just finished her prison sentence.*

Which is why she hasn't voxed much. 

Like I said, I've been busy at work, and my home computer died.

So that's why we haven't written more.

Have a great weekend.


*-I should mention that Ginger Sister's only imprisonment was in this ridiculous story. Oh, and Lindsay Lohan didn't do any of this junk either…this time, anyway.


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13 Responses to “Saturday Update”

  1. Good one. it was sounding more and more bizarre. So did you write that entire story from your phone? Hope you get a computer up and working soon!

  2. Thanks. No, this was produced on a slow day at work. It would take a whole day on the phone, probably. Have a good weekend.

  3. I thought it was a bit long to be from the phone. Thank you and you have a good weekend as well,

  4. The two BFF's hugiggled…hugiggled. you are a genius, Tom.

  5. Thanks, M. You may use "hugiggled" freely. Hell, it could be the next "chillax". 😉

  6. hugiggle >>>>> chillax / sorries if "chillax" is a product of your wordsmithing, Tom. // doubt it. "chillax" is kind of lame./// no offense to the makers of "chillax" – for when the woman in your life is having one of those weeks…

  7. lol
    Nope, not one of mine.

  8. goodnight, Tomgive my regards to the haughty one and to Brother Wind

  9. I plan to both say and do "hugiggle" ASAP.

  10. Just watch out for rabid caribou while you're hugiggling. Happy weekend.

  11. I laughed so damned hard that my employee was worried. This was sheer genius. It might provoke me to retaliation. And, as I asked on facebook, when do I get my signed copy?

  12. oh ginger, i am glad. i have not checked fb. shoot me my subpoena by e mail. lol happy monday

  13. Great freakin' story.

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