Nitwits, Nimrods and Nincompoops: Tales of the Befuddlingly Inane

By Subalien42

This book is about the clowns, the fools and the knuckleheads that can be found North to South and East to West. From a stolen Ronald McDonald in Taiwan to fantastic encounters of the crack head kind in Florida, you won't be at loss for ridiculous situations to judge and laugh at. Enjoy the comedy of human kind as it unfolds in one detestable event or other.

Follow Subalien42 through the various semi-true tales that take place in hovels all around the planet. See the traveler's world from a somewhat cynical point of view as one halfwit after another showcases their less than stellar mental process. You'll learn that Rastafarians are not the best with directions, religious fanatics take on new hairstyles in the name of their god, mystical Tai Chi teachers can make you cry and much much more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Subalien42
• Release date: Nov 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310323133

Subalien42

Mana manah

Book preview

Nitwits, Nimrods and Nincompoops:

Tales of the Befuddlingly Inane

By: Subalien42

Copyright © 2015 Subalien42

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Cover Art by

All Rights Reserved

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Table of Contents

Introduction

Okie-homie-land

--A Dream Within a Dream--

--A Mad Palestinian in the Kitchen--

--Visiting the Mushroom Optometrist--

--Flamtagelous--

--Lucent like Lucifer--

--Oh Xmas Bong--

--Cabana Hopping--

--One Legged Wars--

--Number Card Drink--

--The Newspaper Man—

Capital Hill or The Insane Asylum

--The Last Bus--

--You can’t be a revolutionary and work for the government, can you?--

--Colleen's Funeral--

--Rounding Up Turkeys for the Blind--

--Nearly Repeating Deliverance—

Florgia

--Crackhead Welcoming Committee--

--Shaving Your Head for Jesus--

--Getting the Boss Fired--

--Bahia Grass Mushrooms--

--Rescuing a Kitten Twice (and accidentally getting it Killed)—

Oly

--Lying RAs--

--The President of Kenya--

--Feeding the Raccoons--

--Karaoke Beer Bath--

--Mushrooms, Drag Queens & the Rooftop of Moe's Bar--

--Tequila Equals a New Make-up Table--

--Dan Offers to Screw My Girlfriend’s Mom—

Zhong Guo

--Talk Like a Man You Penis--

--Xian, Teen Hookers & Cock Blocking B--

--The Master Strikes Softly Like a Butterfly Opening in your Chest—

Temples and Talking Bars

--Be Careful what you say about Lady Boys--

--A Fish and Three Fins--

--Bird Shit Island, Reclaiming Steel & Being Trapped Like Turkey in a Pigeon Coop—

Laossian

--How do you like my beer?—

Burmania

--You Poor Children and You Awful, Bad Man—

Taiwan Touch Your Toes

--Fighting the Concrete and Losing a Phone--

--Biker shorts, Beer Bellies and a Beard--

--Treasure Chest Shoe Rack--

--The Costs of Being a Wingman--

--But I Didn't Break Your Glasses Asshole--

--Brawling Spanish Bastards--

--One Ball was lost, but he lived--

--The Non-African African--

--You Are Not an Onerous Man—

--Would You Like Fries with that, Pervert?--

--Ronald McDonald, the White Shadow and the Anti-Fast Food Robbery--

--An Austrian Scientist Must be Right—

Pura Vida Ville

--Waiting for the Bus and the Untrustworthy Gringo—

--That Time I Got Sunburnt While Waiting to Jump Into a Cage with Bulls--

--My Incompetent Pee Wee Herman Boss--

--6 Months of Superb Work Sir--

--Me A Pussy Mechanic, A Pussy Mechanic--

--The Software Twins--

--Saying Goodbye A Thousand Times in Costa Rica--

--Possibly the Worst Driving Law Ever--

--Stop Touching My Chair Cave Man--

--A Day in the Costa Rican Life--

--Rastafari Directions Aren't so Good--

--Adventures in Mother Sitting—

Nicalandia

--Shaking Hands: A Bad Idea Twice--

--A Boat Trip, A Phone & A Boyfriend—

Panamania

--A Marshmallow & A Caramel in an Island of Dark Chocolates—

Early Drinking Days

About Subalien42

More Idiotic Shtuff

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Introduction

Ridiculous tales of ridiculous people from all over this ridiculous planet; Nitwits, Nimrods and Nincompoops can serve as an anecdotal guide to the kinds of idiots that are found everywhere.

These are the stories of idiots doing what idiots do best: generally making fools of themselves. These stories are not specific to one type of idiot, but to them all. There are so many of us in the world, and although we try our best, we cannot escape the stupid things that we do from time to time.

Smart people can be idiots. Stupid people are often idiots. Doctors are idiots on occasion and so are carpenters. Idiots come in all shapes and sizes. There are young idiots and old idiots. There are…ush…you get the point.

This book may act as evidence to future generations as to some of the main reasons why we are such imperfect creatures, or it could be an interesting study for advanced beings if we happen to perish from the earth, which (with this book as a sample of the majority of the population) is very likely.

In some instances in this travelogue of anecdotal experiences, it may come across that the author appears superior to the other idiots that make their way in as characters in the hullabaloo, and maybe the author does feel superior at times. That is only human, but the reality is that the author is as much a nitwit as the rest of the people on this planet and probably more so.

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Okie-homie-land

The land of some of the friendliest people on the planet has its own sordid tales to tell, and of them here are a few. Most of the escapades from the early days in Okie-homie-land are based around the single desire of young escapists: to get drunk. The rest of the book has a bit more meat to it, but still centers itself on that oh so honorable pastime of the many.

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A Dream within a Dream

My first memory of life was a dream. I was at my house holding on to a palm tree (there are no palm trees in Oklahoma) in the middle of my yard. There was a giant storm like a hurricane or a tornado that was blowing like crazy as I tried to hold on to the tree. I could see myself from above looking down as if I was peering through the clouds.

I could see my house and the barn with the tractor parked outside of it. I was clinging to the tree for dear life, but in the madness of the situation I was watching, I felt calm and serene. I was only observing myself being tossed around by the wind in the storm.

I later discovered that the dream was the product of an accident I had while riding my tricycle around our family home’s pool. I fell into the icy water and nearly drown. I have no recollection of the incident, but my mother told me that I was blue when she pulled me out of the water. My father believes that hypothermia is what saved me. That the cold water made my blood stop flowing to my limbs and slowed my heart rate enough to keep me alive. This phenomenon has been observed in aboriginals who go on long walkabouts in Australia.

Maybe in some parallel universe I don’t exist at all.

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A Mad Palestinian in the Kitchen

His name is not so important (we’ll call him Chuck), and if you’ve ever worked the kitchens of Palestinian Ingresses and Cafe, you know that he is a living legend. The man came to United States from Israel as an Israeli Palestinian. He grew up in Nazareth where his father owned a taxi company. When the first intifada took place, his father’s company was seized by the incumbent Israeli government, but they were able to keep their house.

Chuck gave me my first job coming out of highschool, and we established a love hate relationship from the start. He was like an evil second father that you couldn’t help but respect for his audacity and hard work ethic. To this day I always think fondly of the man.

I worked with a friend named Rick there. We served customers in the deli, prepared meals such as falafel sandwiches and shawarma, sliced meats and cheeses, stocked shelves, and generally stole food whenever we got the chance. It was kind of great, but Chuck had a special way of turning it into a nightmare often.

If he needed something in the kitchen, he would ask Rick or me to go get it from the walk-in refrigerator. His directions often left something to be desired. Go to the fridge, and get me the chickpeas. They are in the left, right, middle, back, side corner between the second and third shelf. Everything was in a state of disarray due to Chuck’s maddening organizational skills. Rick and I never bothered to ask him to clarify the directions.

Depending on who was asked, we each did the same thing. We would both saunter