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Posts Tagged ‘Dick La Hoyt’

Short Stories Based on Small Objects

March 30, 2017 Leave a comment

Dick La Hoyt

They bought me the HO scale Dick’s Auto Body Shop even though I hadn’t ever expressed even the slightest interest in model trains.

“Your name is Dick. Ain’t that something?” Dad said. “I think Santa Claus had a few…whatdayacallem’…particulars on you, buddy.”

“GOD DAMMIT,” he added for no reason. Then he disappeared outside into the yard with a beer.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette.

“It snaps together. Got them little trees on the side. Just snap ’em in there and you can write yourself a ticket to Lankywood.”

Mom put a soap opera on.

Ronnie and I built it in about ten minutes.

“That’s some stupid shit,” Ronnie said.

“WATCH YOUR MOUTH, RONNIE,” Mom screamed.

I don’t remember much else.

Dick La Hoyt on the New Copy Machine They Got at His Work, Other Miscellany

September 19, 2016 Leave a comment
Dick La Hoyt

Dick La Hoyt

Outstanding Opinions

We got a new copy machine down at the Tire Shredding Plant. You oughta’ see this beauty. First off, she’s a Danny Madison Crusader with the HD color touchscreen– must have set the company back a pretty penny, I’ll tell you. This baby’s got a 1600 sheet capacity– seriously, they’re not assing around, man. You got a resolution of 1200 x 1200 dpi, page output of up to 6000 sheets a month, SVGA LCD graphics, the whole bit– one of the guys in the office even told me that the damn thing’ll order you up a pizza from anywhere in Lankville. It’s a serious piece of equipment.

You really can’t go wrong with a Danny Madison product. Tam’s got some kind of a tablet– god damn thing talks to you. And I mean, a serious conversation. Tam’ll be lying in bed with that gigantic-ass t-shirt she wears that’s got the Lankville flag on it and says- TRY AND BURN THIS and she’ll just be lying there and she’ll say, “Tablet, what appointments do I have tomorrow?” and sure as shit this tablet will tell her. And then, Tam’ll say, “What about Ms. Ludwig at 3PM– what did she need again?” and the god damn thing’ll tell her. It’s freaky, I’ll put that on record right now. Chalk up a sense of amazement for Dick, chalk it up right now, go ahead.

We get most of our Danny Madison products down at the Electronics Grandee on Highway 52. It’s a couple of Kurt’s that own the place– funny that way, a couple of guys named Kurt both went into business together. I commented on that to Tam once and she started hollering at me something about, “WELL GOD DAMN RIGHT THEY SHOULD GO INTO GOD DAMN BUSINESS TOGETHER, THEY BOTH GOT THE SAME GOD DAMN NAME. IT’S A NATURAL WINNER” and then she started crying. I think it was on account of the old crimson wave, as the poet said.

Not much else going on in ol’ Dick La Hoyt’s world. I did get punched in the mouth recently.

OPINION: I’ve Been Hit With a Chair Before, I’ll Be Hit With a Chair Again

August 4, 2016 Leave a comment
Dick La Hoyt

By Dick La Hoyt

Hey, this here’s a message for that assclown that hit me with a chair down at The Appliance Tyrant on Route 71. Guess what, shit for brains? I been hit with a chair before and I’ll be hit with a chair again.

Let me tell you what happened. So, I’m parked on the couch with a couple of cold beverages and a take-out container of wings, ready to watch Truckers Driving Over Hills, this reality show I enjoy, when all of a sudden I hear Tammy screaming in the basement. “OH MY GOD, DICK! OH MY GOD, DICK!” over and over again. So, I figure I better check it out. After all, Dick likes to keep the little lady happy.

So, I go downstairs and you know what I see? Whole god damn utility sink is clogged to hell and water is running all over my newly-painted and recently-refinished concrete floor.

“GOD DAMMIT, DICK LA HOYT, THE WASHER’S BROKE!” Tam yells. She’s wet as a dog in the rain and plus, she’s got on a white t-shirt, so that was some bonus points for old Dick. Hey, you gotta’ see the good in every situation, know what I mean?

Anyway, I get the sink unclogged and then go to work on the washer. And don’t you know it– the god damn agitator comes right off. Broke at the base.

“This baby is toast,” I tell Tam, who’s drying off (unfortunately). “I’m gonna’ have to get a new one.”

“I saw that the Washing Machine Realm is having a sale,” Tam offers.

I smiled. Sure, Tam was just trying to help but let me tell you– ol’ Dick knows where to go. And that’s how I ended up at The Appliance Tyrant.

So anyways, I’m taking a look at some of the machines– thinking about maybe going with a front loader this time, maybe something in platinum or onyx, when all of a sudden this horse’s ass butts in front of me and checks out the tag on the VERY washer that I was eyeing up. I couldn’t believe it.

“Hey buddy,” I inform him. “That washer is SPOKEN FOR.”

“Oh yeah? You buy this one?” he asks. “It’s a good one,” he says, and pats the washer a couple of times on the side.

I COULD NOT BELIEVE IT.

“Listen, man. I went and told you the washer was spoken for. Now, you’re patting it on the side like you own it? What gives you the god damn RIGHT?”

He takes a step back for a second but then he comes forward and pats it again. I nearly lost it.

“I’ll pat this machine if I want to, man,” he says.

“Alright, we’re taking this shit OUTSIDE,” I say.

“GLADLY,” he says.

So, anyways, we head out into the parking lot. It’s pretty cracked and weedy and there’s some old furniture out there that I guess they never got around to throwing away. And as I’m staring at an old stool, wondering if maybe I could refinish it and use it at my workbench, the guy brains me with a god damn chair. I never saw it coming.

I wake up in the back room of the Tyrant. A couple of salesman are standing around trying to pitch plastic forks into an empty coffee can. I got a headache the size of the Outlands.

“Your wife’s coming to pick you up,” one of the salesman says.

“She sounded plenty mad,” the other one says.

I’d figure it out. Dick La Hoyt always figures it out.

But I just want that prick to know one thing– I been hit with a chair before and I’ll sure as SHIT be hit with a chair again.

The opinions of Dick La Hoyt are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.

OPINION: I’ve Been Smashed in the Neck by a 2 x 4 Before, I’ll Be Smashed in the Neck by a 2 x 4 Again

June 5, 2016 Leave a comment
Dick La Hoyt

By Dick La Hoyt

TIMELY OPINIONS

Yeah, this here’s a message for that little dipshit that smashed me in the neck with a 2 x 4 yesterday at The Lumber Brouhaha. Guess what, shit for brains? I been crushed in the neck with a 2 x 4 before and I’ll sure as hell be crushed in the neck with a 2 x 4 again.

So, here’s what happened. You remember that sweet deck Dick La Hoyt built last Fall, right? Well, look– Tam thinks it’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. Just the other day, she was all like– “Oh, Dick, lounging around outside takes on a whole new meaning ever since you put up this motherfucker.” I’m flattered by the compliment, I really am, but I gotta’ tell you– to the seasoned eye, I’m starting to see some problems. There’s a little wobble in a couple of the boards and a bit of greying underneath over near one section. Dick La Hoyt don’t like it– not at all and I’ve been sizing up ripping the whole thing out and starting over. Tam’s all like, “OH MY GOD, DICK LA HOYT, there ain’t no reason for that” but I can’t live with it anymore. It’s gotta’ be fixed my way and so with that in mind, I head on down to see my buddy Chris at The Lumber Brouhaha.

Chris and me go way back to the old neighborhood. We used to chase tail back in the day, go on fishing trips and hang out at the old Lingus Nets arena. One time, we both got pretty damn lit and ended up pissing in some guy’s vegetable garden. Needless to say, we both got punched in the mouth. Not the first time and not the last, let me tell you what.

Anyway, Chris showed me some of the new stock they got down at the Brouhaha. Beautiful red oak they just got in and I started thinking maybe that was the way to go.

Well, the next thing you know this little guy comes out of nowhere and pinches my cart. It was a good one too– one of those nice orange ones with the double handles. Sure, I didn’t have nothing on it but it was only a couple of feet from me. This candy ass didn’t even ask or nothing.

“Hey man,” I called out. “That cart is SPOKEN FOR!”

“It don’t got your name on it anywhere,” the guy responded.

That did it. Dick La Hoyt don’t take no shit from anybody at The Lumber Brouhaha. You might as well be coming into my god damn living room and swiping my favorite recliner.

“YOU AND ME, WE’RE TAKING THIS OUTSIDE,” I hollered.

“GLADLY,” he said.

I led him to a little spot I knew of between the Brouhaha and that elegant reception hall or whatever that everybody’s always going on about.

I turned to face him and the next thing I know– BAM! I take a 2 x 4 right in the neck.

Chris was the one that found me.

“Jesus Christ, Dick,” he said. “You got a big ol’ red mark on your neck.”

“WHERE’S THAT HORSES’ ASS?” I called out.

“He put a bunch of lumber on that cart of yours. Paid and walked right out with it. That’s how come I knew to look for you– I knew that was your cart. That’s the one with them double handles.”

“GOD DAMN, RIGHT,” I said. I was having a hell of a time catching my breath.

“Want me to call Tam?” he said.

“Nah, I’ll be alright. Let me just lay here a minute.”

Chris sat with me. Me and him go way back.

Anyway, I just want to make sure that asshead knows that didn’t get one over on ol’ Dick La Hoyt. I been smashed in the neck with a 2 x 4 before and I’ll sure as the sun rises get smashed in the neck again.

The opinions of Dick La Hoyt are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.

OPINION: I’ve Been Kicked in the Face Before, I’ll Be Kicked in the Face Again

March 31, 2016 Leave a comment

hoyt2

Yeah, this here’s a message for that little retard down at Climax Auto Parts on Route 71. Guess what, asshole? I’ve been kicked in the face before and I’ll sure as shit be kicked in the face again.

Let me tell you what went down. So, I’m just in there to pick up a couple of new cabin air filters for my ’09 Neptune Steed– let me tell you something right now–the interior of a Dick La Hoyt truck is so clean you could god damn eat off it. Anyway, I’m just minding my own business, checking out a sale they got going on hot shine tire spray, when all the sudden this little piece of fucking shit just reaches in front of me and grabs the EXACT spray bottle that I was eyeing up. I couldn’t believe my god damn eyes.

So, I’m like, “hey buddy, that there bottle is SPOKEN FOR.” He looks at me a second and then he’s like, “alright, I’ll grab another one.” And the sonuvabitch puts back my spray bottle and grabs the one next to it.

I just about lost it. “HEY MAN, HOW DO YOU KNOW ALL THESE BOTTLES AIN’T SPOKEN FOR? What in the hell gives you THE RIGHT?”

“Listen,” he says. “There’s plenty of tire spray for everyone.”

THAT DID IT.

“WE’RE TAKING THIS SHIT OUTSIDE,” I said. “DICK LA HOYT’S GONNA’ TEACH YOUR STUPID ASS A LESSON.”

“Listen- I’m not a fighter, man,” he says. “Why don’t we just pay for our stuff and go our separate ways?”

“LISTEN HERE, CHICKENSHIT,” I said. “IT EITHER GOES DOWN OUTSIDE OR IT GOES DOWN RIGHT HERE IN THE EXTERIOR CARE PRODUCTS AISLE.”

And then the next thing I know, the guy floors me with a roundhouse kick to the face.

When I woke up, I was on a stool and Bert, my buddy that runs the register, handed me a cup of water.

“WHERE’S THAT HORSE’S ASS?” I said.

“He’s gone. Dick, that guy had some moves. That kick came out of nowhere. You were out before you hit the floor.”

Maybe. But I just want that god damn half-pint to know it and know it good. Dick La Hoyt has been kicked in the face before and as sure as the sun is gonna’ set, he’ll be kicked in the face again.

The opinions of Dick La Hoyt are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.

OPINION: I’ve Been Punched in the Mouth at a Candlelit Child’s Christmas Eve Pageant Before, I’ll Be Punched in the Mouth at a Candlelit Child’s Christmas Eve Pageant Again

December 15, 2015 Leave a comment
Dick La Hoyt

By Dick La Hoyt

Seasonal Opinions from the Archives

This is a message for that joker that punched me in the mouth at a candlelit Christmas Eve pageant last night. Guess what, asshole? Been punched at one before, I’ll be punched at one again.

My niece was playing one of the animals from the first Christmas at some auditorium, so I went along. Got a chair right near the front in the middle aisle and I laid my coat over the back and then popped off my knitted sweater and draped that over a couple more chairs, one for my sister and her husband. Then, I ducked out back in the parking lot for a cigarette.

I come back and you wouldn’t believe it. My coat is thrown off to one side and this horse’s ass is sitting in my seat. So, I go up to him and I’m like WHOAAAAA BUDDY! THESE SEATS ARE SPOKEN FOR! This guy, he starts arguing with me about the coat and the sweater not being no “reserved” sign and I say YOU BETTER STEP OFF MAN, BETTER STEP OFF and my sister starts crying and pulling at my arm cause all the kids are starting to come onstage in their donkey outfits or whatever and some dude is walking around lighting these candles that was set up everywhere.

“We better take this one outside,” this clown says. GLADLY I say, and we start out a side exit. I turn around and BAM. I take it right in the mouth. I don’t remember much after that until I woke up in some sand. Must’ve been a playground or something. I could hear singing coming through the windows of the candlelit auditorium. I tasted blood.

So, just so this motherlovin’ asshead knows it– you ain’t the first, pal. I’ve been punched in the mouth at a candlelit child’s Christmas Eve pageant before, I’ll be punched in the mouth at a candelit child’s Christmas Eve pageant again.

OPINION: I’ve Been Punched in the Mouth Contesting My Own Death Before, I’ll Be Punched in the Mouth Contesting My Own Death Again

November 2, 2015 Leave a comment
Dick La Hoyt

Dick La Hoyt

So, let me tell you what these fucks down at the News did. They went ahead and published an article about your man Dick La Hoyt being dead. Put out a whole motherlovin’ obituary and everything, said I had been punched in the mouth at the Cabinet Rascal down off Route 71, god damn thing written by some clown in a red felt hat. Upset Tammy all to hell.

She’s calling up the tire shredding plant bawling her eyes out. “Dick’s dead! Dick’s dead!” she’s screaming into the phone at some foreman. “Naw, Dick ain’t dead. He’s right out there on the floor feeding a big cardboard box a’ triple treads into the shredder,” this dope tells her. I get on the phone with Tam and calm her down but then I realize I got some unfinished business with this clown down at the news. I take the rest of the day off and head straight the fuck down there.

“Where’s Ump?” I yell as I hit the newsroom floor. “Where’s that god damn horses’ ass?”

I’m met by editor-in-chief Marles Cundiff. “Dick, we’re looking into this– Ump’s on administrative leave.”

“I’m going to have his ass for lunch,” I say, trying to get around Cundiff. A bunch of other reporters are half-sitting, half-standing. I saw Brian Schropp and Brock Belvedere plunge down the fire exit.

“Dick, babe, calm it down. We’re getting to the bottom of this, alright?” Cundiff says.

“That ain’t good enough for Dick La Hoyt,” I scream out. “I want this sonuvawhore out on this floor RIGHT NOW!”

Well, Cundiff and I go back and forth for awhile with him just telling me the same old shit and me getting more an’ more upset and the reporters all trying to get me off the floor and the next thing I know BAM, I take one right in the mouth and I collapse into a chair.

Next thing I know, Cundiff is running a cold washcloth over my forehead. “You alright, Dick?”

“Who hit me? Man, I’ll rip him apart.”

“Just take it easy, Dick.” He starts running the cloth down on my cheeks and it starts to get a little too intimate for Dick La Hoyt, know what I’m saying? I rip it away from him.

I never did find out jack shit. But I will tell whoever it was that clocked me this– I’ve been punched in the mouth contesting my own death before and I’ll sure as SHIT be punched in the mouth contesting my own death again.

Dick La Hoyt: 1963-2015

October 27, 2015 Leave a comment
Dick La Hoyt

Dick La Hoyt has died.

LANKVILLE DAILY NEWS: YES!

Popular Lankville Daily News correspondent and tire shredding plant employee Dick La Hoyt has died. He was 52.

Witnesses say that La Hoyt was punched in the mouth while arguing with an unidentified man at The Cabinet Rascal, a discount wholesalers. He died later of his injuries.

“It was not the first time that Dick had been punched in the mouth at The Cabinet Rascal,” said his wife of 21 years Tammy La Hoyt. “But it was the last.”

Relatives, friends and people that have punched Dick in the mouth can visit the Life Lessons Funeral Home, Inc. of the Eastern Suburban Edges on Friday, October 30 from 2pm to 4pm and 6pm to 8pm and again at 2:00am (but don’t bring that one guy this time). Funeral Services will be held Saturday, October 31 at 11:00am at the Three Kings O’ Great Centre of the Divine of the Eastern Suburban Edges.

OPINION: I’ve Been Punched While Buying Pumpkins Before, I’ll Be Punched While Buying Pumpkins Again

October 12, 2015 Leave a comment
Dick La Hoyt

By Dick La Hoyt

SEASONAL OPINIONS

Yeah, this is a message for that sonovabitch down at the Little Lankville Pumpkin Corner last night. Guess what, shitheel? I’ve been punched while buying pumpkins before, I’ll be punched while buying pumpkins again.

Let me tell you about this retard. I’m just standing around the big giant cardboard container of pumpkins, minding my own business. I had a couple picked out by then, couple gourds in a basket too but it wasn’t no big deal. Anyways, this big d’bag comes prancing around the corner like he owns the god damn place. Just waltzes right up to my side of the giant cardboard container of pumpkins. I’m like WHOA BUDDY! THIS SIDE OF THE CARDBOARD CONTAINER OF PUMPKINS IS SPOKEN FOR! He backs off for a minute but later we get into it and one thing leads to another and the next thing I know, I’m flat on the gravel with the basket on one side of me and the gourds and pumpkins on the other. And big shit– he’s standing over me like he’s accomplished something that nobody in the god damn world has ever done.

Well, let’s set the record straight, boss.

I’ve been punched while buying pumpkins before, I’ll be punched while buying pumpkins again.

The opinions of Dick La Hoyt are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.

Meet the MacLankan “Geniuses” for 2015

October 2, 2015 Leave a comment
By Elliott Cumber-Lanny

By Elliott Cumber-Lanny

Berenice Cradles, millennial preservationist-entrepreneur extraordinaire, was polishing a knob in an old bungalow in the Western Lankville Plains, which she’d purchased for $113.56 in a silent auction the week before. She was just asking her ex-husband and former business partner Josh Wilson-Shires if he could see his reflection in the shiny brass surface when the call came.

Dick LaHoyt, artist, popular columnist, and Lankville presidential candidate, was staring into the barrel of a Schlossberg 750 Royal shotgun, psyching himself up for a campaign speech he was about to give to a group of senior citizens at Eastern Hills Easier University, when his wife Tammy gave him the news.

Ashley Pfeiffers’ new boyfriend was “laying down some gnarlsty tracks” for his upcoming solo EP, One for the Blumpkins, when Ms. Pfeiffers excitedly rushed over from her Barlow Foods High Groceries cheerleading squad practice to tell him.

“I tried to stay swizzy,” said Ashley Pfeiffers’ new boyfriend. “But there’s no way to stay swizzy,” he added as Ms. Pfeiffers beamed proudly beside him.

Cra

Berenice Cradles: Some Kind of Genius

These three were among the dozen Lankvillians honored with a MacLankan “genius” award for 2015. The award – which is given after a rigorous but secretive selection process – comes with a $750,000 stipend and a lifetime supply of single-serve plastic utensils from Barlow Foods, which has sponsored the MacLankans since 1987.

“There are no restrictions on how they spend that money,” noted Barlow Foods CEO John Barlow. “Well, almost none,” he added, admitting there is a strict prohibition on the use of MacLankan funds for Vitiello Decorative Hams products. Since 1993, founder and CEO Chris Vitiello has sponsored the “Hammies,” a rival award, considerably less lucrative than the MacLankans.

“We want people to shake things up, feel free to take chances, think outside the box, stretch the limits of Wow,” Barlow said from his command-cave. “Like when I thought of unwrapped, single-serve utensil dispensers,” he said. “It takes a man freed from the confines of convention and the everyday rigmarole to come up with an idea like that. Now, you’ll have to excuse me,” he said. The sound of heavy machinery and small explosions then followed as he set the phone down without hanging up.

Ms. Cradles, already well known as a mover and shaker in what she calls “the Next Lankville,” has exciting plans for the unexpected windfall.

“Well, it’s sort of unexpected,” she said over a half-frap soy-chini at Emoti-Flan. “I mean, I planned to win a MacLankan before I turned thirty, and here I am with three years to spare,” laughed the winsome 27-year-old. Former husband Wilson-Shires nodded with a painful expression. “She did always say that,” he murmured feebly. The funds, said Cradles, will go towards an ambitious development project in the Southern Exotic Islands, where she has already turned her refurbishing eye, purchasing several tracts of wetlands and unincorporated swamp. “What do you think of when I say ‘Southern Exotic Islands?’” asked Ms. Cradles rhetorically, instantly answering: “Caramel Dragons, right?”

Dick La Hoyt

Dick La Hoyt

Cradles then outlined her plan to build a small preserve for the Dragons and surround it with mixed-use structures, sustainable lots, and communal living units. Jilted husband Wilson-Shires stared morosely as she ran through the details.

Mr. LaHoyt, whose presidential bid had been flagging amidst scandal and lack of real effort, vowed to pump some much-needed funds into his campaign. “But let’s face it,” he added, “I’m going to be buying a lot of shotgun shells and pizza with this money, and maybe some of that fancy liquor that comes in, like, a vial or whatever.” He thought for a moment. “Yeah. A lot of little bottles with fancy names and stuff.”

Ashley Pfeiffers’ new boyfriend allowed himself a slight, wry smile as he listened to the Barlow Foods Committee offer an assessment of his creative work: “The cassette tape Reductio ad My Johnson was both uplifting and disturbing, forcing the listener to stare into the abyss of the self while seizing on a strange sense of wonder.”

“I guess I’m sort of izzled by it all,” he admitted. “I want to thank the academy, or, whoever, for this.”

“I LOVE YOU SO MUCH,” added Ms. Pfeiffers.

Other winners of the MacLankan for 2015 include Sarah Samways for her impressionistic reports and consulting work; Brian Schropp for his essays on cuisine and persistent demeanor; and Genevieve Rumpus (no relation to the Ida Rumpus who reports for this paper) for her popular “No More Fucking Around” workshops, symposia, and related products and services.

OPINION: I’ve Been Punched in the Mouth Picking Out a Mattress Before, I’ll Be Punched in the Mouth Picking Out a Mattress Again

September 14, 2015 Leave a comment
La Hoyt Large

By Dick La Hoyt

MEANINGFUL OPINIONS

I was just settling in on the couch for a long afternoon of Lingus Nets contests when Tam walks into the room.

And she goes, “Dick, we need a new mattress, baby. My back is killing me from that god damn old shit cushion.”

What could I say? I mean, that’s why I love her.

“Alright baby. Let’s go down to the Mattress Sovereign on Route 21. They got anything you could ask for– coil, spring, waterbeds if you want to go that direction (I was hoping that Tam would), all that orthopedic shit. Let me just polish off this bowl of cheese balls.”

Sure as shit, I polished them off. Then we went out.

I got us down to the Sovereign in about 10 minutes. You avoid Route 21, go the back roads and you’re there. I got the lights timed and everything. Nobody’s gonna’ hold Dick La Hoyt up.

So, we walk in and there’s Buddy Tapes– Buddy and I go way back. He used to run his own mattress place but he blew it trying to sell them futons. I told him so and he punched me in the mouth. Won’t be the last time though– put your spending money on that.

Anyway, Buddy shows us around and I’m trying to horn Tammy over towards the waterbeds but she ain’t having nothing of that shit. “Dickie, c’mon, waterbeds are a god damn hassle,” she’s saying but I flopped on a couple anyway just for effect. It was like lying on a cloud, man, I’m not going to lie. Like lying on one of heaven’s clouds.

Well, the next thing I notice, there’s Buddy Tapes chatting up Tam pretty good. He’s all like, “You need something that’ll support your shoulders and your neck” and he starts trying to shove this little pillow all up in there. And I’m like, “WHOA, BUDDY. YOU BETTER STEP OFF, MAN. THIS GIRL IS SPOKEN FOR.” and Tammy’s like, “Dick, he’s just showing me something, goddammit” and Buddy’s all like, “Yeah, Dick, go back on the waterbeds if you’re gonna’ be a tool, man.” and I’m like I’LL SHOW YOU WHO’S A TOOL, MOTHERFUCKER, LET’S TAKE THIS SHIT OUTSIDE” and Buddy’s all like GLADLY and the manager is coming over and he’s like, “BUDDY, YOU BETTER NOT” and the next thing you know we’re out in the parking lot and BAM, I take one right in the mouth.

When I come to I’m on the waterbeds and I gotta’ tooth loose. Tammy’s sitting there– she’s kind of wobbling, on account of the unsteadiness of the waterbed and all. And I’m like WHERE IS THAT HORSE’S ASS? and Tammy’s all like GOD DAMN YOU, DICK LA HOYT and honestly all I’m thinking about is how comfortable this waterbed is, thinking, how can I get this into our bedroom without Tammy knowing and then I nix that idea. Dick La Hoyt knows enough not to shit where he eats, know what I’m saying?

But I do want that son of a whore Buddy Tapes to know this– I’ve been punched in the mouth picking out a mattress before and I’ll sure as Christ be punched in the mouth picking out a mattress again.

OPINION: You Can Spend a Whole Day at Three Pines Double-Tiered Strip Mall

August 28, 2015 Leave a comment
By Tammy La Hoyt

By Tammy La Hoyt

IMPORTANT OPINIONS

Tammy Nails is only one of fifteen stores at the Three Pines Double-Tiered Strip Mall in the Deep Lankville Basin Area.

We also got a little religious bookstore, a place where they have newspapers and beer and some kind of place that has, I guess, those faucets for sinks. We also got a god damn place that dumps big barrels of shit off the back balcony (the Three Pines Double-Tiered Strip Mall is two stories). We’ve complained and all to the management but nothing’s been done yet. Somebody got no respect for anything.

The guy that has the religious bookstore is a sweet little old man named Mr. Pencils. He’s got all kinds of song books and manuals and all. I brought him some homemade egg salad once. He unwrapped the sandwich and stared at it for like ten minutes and then he said, “I’d like to decline this.” I was pretty hurt, I guess. I called him a son of a bitch and then I started crying. My eye makeup ran and all. We haven’t spoken since but I still wave to him. Sometimes he waves back.

You can spend a whole day at Three Pines Double-Tiered Strip Mall. You can come in and get your nails done at Tammy Nails and then you can walk over and do whatever it is that that guy that dumps shit all over the place does, and then you can buy some nice religious books for a female relative and all. And then you can get a new faucet. I get new faucets about once a year. My Dick always says, “Sure as shit, you can never go wrong with a new faucet.” He’s right.

There’s a cabinet place too, like cabinets for kitchens but they ain’t never opened. And there’s a pizza place but it’s always really cold in there and there ain’t any pizzas in the display cases. There’s a couple of guys that stand around dazed behind the counter. They got these white aprons on that are stained all kinds of strange colors.

As My Dick says, “Takes all god damn kinds, babe.”

OPINION: I’ve Been Punched in the Mouth While Photocopying My Ass Before, I’ll Be Punched in the Mouth While Photocopying My Ass Again

August 10, 2015 Leave a comment
La Hoyt Large

By Dick La Hoyt

OUTSTANDING OPINIONS

Yeah, I’m serving notice to that asspipe co-worker of mine down at the Tire Shredding Plant. Guess what, dickhead? I’ve been punched in the mouth while photocopying my ass before and I’ll sure as shit be punched in the mouth while photocopying my ass again.

Let me break it down for you. We got a new copy machine down at the Tire Shredding Plant. You oughta’ see this beauty. First off, she’s a Danny Madison Crusader with the HD color touchscreen– must have set the company back a pretty penny, I’ll tell you. This baby’s got a 1600 sheet capacity– seriously, they’re not assing around, man. You got a resolution of 1200 x 1200 dpi, page output of up to 6000 sheets a month, SVGA LCD graphics, the whole bit– one of the guys in the office even told me that the damn thing’ll order you up a pizza from anywhere in Lankville. It’s a serious piece of equipment.

Anyway, as soon as the office cleared out at five, me and Jimmy Balances from over in tire receiving had to christen the bad boy. Jimmy breaks out a couple of beers from the little fridge and we went in and dropped our drawers. “Shit, you go first, Dick,” he said.

So, I plopped my ass on the glass, as they say and Jimmy hit COPY. Out comes the god damnest picture I ever seen and believe me, I’ve christened many a new photocopier in my 22 years here at the Tire Shredding Plant.

“It’s beautiful, man,” Jimmy said.

“Sure as shit,” I said, downing the rest of my beer.

Well, the next thing we know this white-collar prick that I done never seen before comes in. Me and Jimmy still got our drawers down. I’m still sitting on the copier.

“What are you doing?” the guy yells. “Who are you two? Who are your superiors?”

“Hey man,” I said, holding up the copy of my ass. “Just giving your new girl a ride here. Check it out.”

I couldn’t believe it none. The sonuvabitch wasn’t impressed at all. Matter of fact, he was threatening us with all kinds of trouble.

“And you’re drinking on the job!” he said.

“Hey man, this here is Dick La Hoyt’s time,” I said. I got down off the machine and jacked up my drawers. “You got a problem with that, then maybe we’re gonna’ need to settle it outside.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Maybe I am. What you gonna’ do about it, standing around in your monkey suit, man?”

“I’m not wearing a tuxedo,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” I decided to let him have it. “Did you leave it at home with Mama?”

The guys looks at the floor. Next thing I know, BAM, he punches me right in the mouth.

I couldn’t believe it. I fell like a god damn bag of sand. My beer went flying off and onto the floor.

Then, to make matters worse, the assbagger reported both me and Jimmy. We both got cursed up and down and sent home early. Didn’t matter none– I put up a new shelf for some of Tammy’s crafts– Dick La Hoyt doesn’t waste a day crying over spilled milk.

But I just want that piece of shit to know it– I’ve been punched in the mouth while photocopying my ass before and I’ll sure as Christ be punched in the mouth while photocopying my ass again.

OPINION: I’ve Been Punched in the Mouth While Renting a Belt Sander Before, I’ll Be Punched in the Mouth While Renting a Belt Sander Again

June 8, 2015 Leave a comment
Dick La Hoyt

Dick La Hoyt

IMPORTANT OPINIONS

Yeah, this is a message for that shitscrew down at the Home Dump in the Lankville Hill Area. Guess what, asspipe? I’ve been punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander before, I’ll be punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander again.

So, here’s what happened. I’m just putting some finishing touches on a little patio out back– just a nice little place with some cushy seats where I can put my feet up at night, know what I mean? Got a little fire pit out there, a gas grill– I won’t lie, it’s kind of an oasis. Anyway, even though Tammy keeps saying Dick, it’s fine, it’s done I know to hell it could be better, so I go over to the Home Dump to rent me a belt sander.

I can tell the guy is a real smartass from the get go– like he thinks Dick La Hoyt is some kind of a sucker. Keeps saying, “Hey, man, your best value is to rent this for a week– that way, you can take your time.” “I don’t need no time,” I tell him. “When I start a project, I damn well finish it that day. You can bet your cheeks on that.” He gets real embarrassed then and he kind of dumps the belt sander on the counter in a real pissy way and starts writing me out some contract that’s about 20 pages long.

“What’s the speed on this thing– what kind of db’s are we looking at?  This thing got torque control?” I ask.

You wouldn’t believe it. This goon didn’t even look up– just kept writing.

“HEY, MAN! I can take my god damn business elsewhere. I already got figures from a couple of other places and they SURE AS SHIT are cheaper than YOUR ASS.”

He looks up and stops writing.

“Good for you. You must feel great now.”

Well, I won’t lie– I just about lost my shit.

“LET’S STEP OUTSIDE COCKSUCKER!” I yell.

“I’ll meet you in the garden section,” he said. “That outside enough for you?”

“GLADLY”.  And I walk over to  wait by the birdbaths and fountains.

Well, about fifteen minutes pass and I’m just fuming. At the same time, though, I’m burning daylight and I promised Tammy that I’d have that deck like the bottom of a baby’s ass by dinner. I ain’t got no time to wait around for this prick.

So, I start to head back to the counter. And I’m just coming around a big pile of bagged mulch and the next thing I know, the guy is standing right there. I take a swing and miss and then he pounds me right in the mouth. I go down like a god damn box of rocks and then, while I’m half-out, this turd dumps a bag of mulch on me. Even picks up a hose and waters down the mulch. Christ, I was soaked to shit.

But I just want him to know it and know it well– I been punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander before and I’ll sure as shit be punched in the mouth while renting a belt sander again.

OPINION: I’ve Been Punched While Owling Before, I’ll Be Punched While Owling Again

April 28, 2015 3 comments
Dick La Hoyt

Dick La Hoyt

OUTSTANDING OPINIONS

Yeah, this is a heads-up for that candied-ass shitheel that punched me in the mouth while I was owling last night. Guess what, buttface? I’ve been punched in the mouth while owling before and I’ll be punched in the mouth while owling again.

So, my brother-in-law Tommy asked me if I wanted to go owling with him last night. “Yeah, sure, I’ll sit around and look at some god damn owls if there’s a six-pack involved,” I said. He gave me that look and started on about some monkey owls or something that were hanging around in the neighbor’s barn. “You want to catch them, I got a big-ass net,” I offered but he just gave me that look again and handed me the six-pack. “You carry the beer,” he said. “GLADLY,” I responded, a little too loud (my sister was asleep on the couch).

So, we sat around the barn for awhile and then this fuckface shows up– some friend of Tommy’s. “We go on owling expeditions together,” Tommy said.

“What are you guys, a couple of faggots?”

I downed a beer and they didn’t say anything. This other piece of shit though, he gave me a look that I didn’t like at all and I decided to keep my eye on him.

Female barn owl (file photo)

Female barn owl (file photo)

Anyway, after awhile, this son-of-a-whore says he sees something and he and Tommy get all excited. They start moving real careful towards the screech of this monkey owl or whatever and that’s when this motherlover steps in front of me.

So, I’m like, “WHOA MAN– THIS SPOT IN THE BARN IS SPOKEN FOR!”.

Tommy immediately was like, “I knew I shouldn’t have taken you Dick– you just scared the damn owl away.”

And this other guy, he’s all like, “who the hell is this guy, Tommy?” and I’m all like, “I’M THE GUY THAT’S GONNA’ KICK YOUR FUCKIN’ ASS” and then he’s all like, “LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY” and I’m like, “LET’S ROCK AND ROLL MOTHERFUCKER” and then one thing leads to another and the next thing I know I’ve been punched in the mouth and I’m lying in the hay looking up at the rafters.

I think it was Tommy who dragged me back inside and my sister was awake by then and she was all, “Christ, did you get punched again Dick?” and I don’t remember much after that.

But I do want that prick to know it– I’ve been punched while owling before and I’ll sure as shit be punched while owling again.

The opinions of Dick La Hoyt are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.