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Ramblins and Rusins about life from Tightwad Junction's resident curmudgeon

05/19/97

So yet anuther friggin entry in muh diary, to all of those who heve ritten in and askd hows muh wounds wer healin, jest fine thank you, althouh Tammy Waynette keeps tryin to pick the scabs off uf muh back. Jest a little programmin note, Bufurd's won't be updated next week as I's goin down to Table Rock lake fur sum fishin ovur the long ass Memorial Day weekend. Wells muh little gurl, Georgia Pasific gradeated frum High School yesturday, I's so proud of hur, she's the furst Jones to evur get past the 9th grade. The ceremony wuz sumthin to see, it wuz so beautiful, they city leaders decked out the school house up on tha hill in the class colors, maize and taupe, Georgia wore her bestest pairs of cuveralls, and a gown she got down at the Salvation Army. She's so excited, she hazn't takin that gown off yet, although when she got home this morning, tha cuveralls waz gone...bunches of white stains all ovur hur gown too, and I's swear, Tammy Waynette wuz cookin bacon and eggs fur breakfast, but all I could smell was Tuna Salad...Georgia and hur classmates must have had a picnic to celebrate theirs graduatedion lest night, cause when I asked Georgia whut the hell all those stains ovur hur gown wuz, she told me it was Mayonaise...that gurl, such the little homemaker. Wells, I know this wuz short, but it's time fur my physical therapy on muh burns, so until the first Munday in June, As always, I'm Bufurd

05/12/97

So here it is, spring, damn near summer and its still colder than shit. I hope all you pud whacks in tha west are enjoyin ya'lls heat now, I'll be laughin my injured ass off when ya'll burn up literally this summer, it'll make muh unfortuante fart lightin incident seem like a wet match. Anyways, if'n you haven't checked it out yet, pleaz check muh Private Stock out, it's only $4.99 a month fur the best trash on tha net!

A few weeks ago befur muh accidunt, I promised to show you the pitchers from Dennis Rodman's birthday party ovur in Branson...Tammy Waynette and Darla Louise attendued as special guests of Kenny Rogers (I knew that tramp Darla was floggin his log agin...) I did get the pitchers develped down at the quicky mat and have them here fur ya this week. Here the r, with comments buy Tammy....

Stupid ballplayers...Darla Louise and I had to settle for a five way with Andy Williams, Roy Clark, and Boxcar Willy...(hey don't laugh he's really hung...)

05/04/97

So ya'll wunt to know just where tha fuck I've been the last three weeks, well let me tell ya'll. A few weeks ago, I drove muh truck down to the Garbage's Gate cult meeting down at tha dump ( You know, gaseous clouds around Uranus spells the end of Garbage's Gate...click here to see the old pages of muh cult...a little background fur ya'll that don't remebur, I decide all good webmasters shood have a cult, so I furmed the Cult of Garbage's Gate) Ahnyways, it wuz time fur tha group circul jurk so we cood meet our gaseous leader, and I wuz drivin tha truck down to the dump and I picked up Bubba downtown....we wuz both lookin furward to our circul jurk with Fa and Bubba got so enthralled (I's had plenty of readin time to wurk on muh vocabulary) with the prospect of leavin his human shell behind that he decide to light up. Now when Bubba lights up, it ain't no fuckin cigareete, its his fuggin ass! Well, Bubba furget to infurm me that he had jest eatin a big burrito dinner over at Tacko Bell, and when he held that shiny new zippo up to his puckered arse, it blew muh whole fuggin truck to high hell! You should have seen it! It blew ol' Bubba clear out the windshield and into a passing Amish Buggy. That poor ol Amish Matron passed out and died right there and then (Of course, I think my heart would have stopped at the sight of his big fat ass flyin at me like a very Pungent Nuleur Wurhead!) He landed ass down on wun of the matron's chickens and impaled himself purty good. As fur muh accident, I wuz laughin so hurd at Bubba, that I neglected to notice that muh truck wuz on fire, and the diesel tank decided to up and explode which sent me flyin out the other windshield and into tha middle of the road. The Amish mister, grabbed his cell phone (don't ask me where tha fuck he got it) and called 911. As the ambulance wuz cumin to pry muh carcass off the highway, it hit a patch of chicken guts frum the Amish matron's chicken that Bubba had landud on and slid sideways and rolled on top of me. So they had to call the lifeflight helecoptor and a winch truck to pull the ambulance off of me...all that waz stickin out frum under tha ambulance and I swear instead of cryin, I heard that bitch Tammy singin somethin about the wicked witch bein absolutely postivuely dead and lollypop guilds...Well, luckily the iron plate in my head kept the weight of the ambulance frum squashin me like a bug, but when tha new ambulance got theres, they assumed I wuz dead, and thru me in by tha scruff of muh neck and then through that skanky ass Amish Matron in on top of me and startud drivin us to the morgue. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed but the ambulance drivur kept tellin me to shut up, I was dead, and that wuz that. (The matron had a nice rack, but damn she smelled...I guess they can have Cell phones but not Massengil) The pain wuz so unbearable that I jest finally passed out. Next thing I knew, I woke up to a bone chilling cold...I was nekked on a table in a big white room...Tammy wuz over in the corner still doin the Jig talkin about all the money she waz goin to get since she sold muh body to The Tightwad Junction Delicatessen and Medicul College. So yu can imagine the look on hur face when I hurled my work boot and nailed hur in the forhead with tha steel toe. Knocked hur cold I tell ya. So anyways to make an already to long story even longer, the mortician finully believed that I wuz alive and decided I shud go to the hospitul. Of curse they put me in the same room as that dimwit Bubba. Bubba got out a few weeks ago, but they woodn't let muh out until last weekend, and the first thing I got waz a call frum the mortician tellin me to cume get Bubba, he was trying to hump that poor Amish matron, at leased he brought hur flowurs...That's mor than that ol whore Tammy es goin to get when i get home......

04/06/1997

It's been a strange week here in 'The Dump. I wuz watchin TV the udder day and I's saw all those there Cult of The Webmasturs or whaddever they's were and realized that I wuz already a membur of a cult, we meet every othur Sunday out at tha dump, dance around nekked and celebrate tha posituve influence of gaseous inergy, so I figgered whut tha hell, I wud put up my own website fur my cult. If ya'll haven't checked it out, its located right here. U've also decided it wuz time to let some of ya'll eagle eyes out there collect sum trash fur me...So if ya'll wanna becum a Deputy Master Trash Technician (I wud assume most of ya'll are already Master Baiters) click here fur more infurmation on Bufurd's Beaver Hunt. I'va been wurkin really hurd this week and haven't had much of a chance to keep track of whut muy family is upto....I know ol' Bubba got arrested fur sodomizing Puck again, but that's gettin to be old hat...That silly child of mine William got his pecker stuck in a knothole down at the Mabel's Whorehouse and Watkin's Distributorship....seems tha site of those Watkin products engourged him so he couldn't get it back out...that boy ain't right...Tammy and Darla actually got to hang out with the original Bad Boy of the NBA last week down at Kenny Rogers theatre in Branson, who wud of thunk that Kenny and Dennis Rodman wur cuzins? Anyways, I went thru Tammy's purse and found some really nasty pitchers of tha three of them and a special guest to be named later. Ima goin to go down to the copy shop this week and getem scanned so I can post em next week, along with tha full story of that cheatin whore and Darla's Louises night with Dennis. Until then, as always, I am.......Bufurd

03/30/97

So folks, here we a go agin...The ol' Buf Daddy is back and bigger than ever before. I gots sum really cool shit planned! I'm not really goin have time for a diary entry this week, what with all the rebuilding goin on at tha' Dump, but bear wit me, It'll be worth it! Remind me to tell ya about what that stupid whore wife of mine did last week....

Until Then! As Always, Bufurd C. Jones

03/23/97

The Big Fire of 1997

03/16/97

Gone Drinkin....

03/09/97

Hey there ya'll Bufurd C. Jones, Master Refuse Technician / Master Baiter / Computer Type Geezer once again takin keyburd to hand to write this weeks diary. Itsa bin a vury slow week here arund Tightwad Junction...tha basketbull season es over and the town kind shrivels up like muh peepee when it sees Tammy Waynette nekked when 'Tha Season is ovur...Tha weathur finully settled down...thank gootness! Purty borin week on the trash route too..but I think I found enuff trash to keep ya'll hard (or wet fur the ladies out there) until next week. By the wuy, next weeks trash is goin be late cause I'm a goin out uf town..goin up to Warrensburg fur the annual St. Paddy's pub crawl...I'm plannin on puttin the new trash out on 03/18/97 so ah murk yur calendur.So anyways, on to whut interestin happened this week...So un I guess frum whut I've bin told, Wednesday after school William Jefferson and his cusin Mabel went out tauntin sheep aftur school...well'n sumhow theys ended up on Old Man Jobby's furm (he's a contract chicken choker fur Tuyson Foods) and when ol' Muther Nature calls ol' William Jefferson just whipped out his peepee and sturted goin in tha brush...well's ol' Man Jobby has electric fence all ovur his farm, and William didn't see it and jest happened to shoot his stream on that fence....Mable said he wen't flyin 50 feet...when she gut to em, she said he had this wicked smile on 'is face and his peepee wuz all hurd and purple and stuff...well, boys bein boys, William jumped back up to his feet and wents straight backt to tha fence and pee'd un it again....Mable said this time he probably flews 75 foots and his peepee was an even weirder color and even hurder and longer...now Mabel wuz gettin jealous seein all the fun William wuz haven and see'ns gurl don't have a peepee to pee on an electric fence with...she wuz jest forced to watch William go back time un time agin to pee on the fence...she swore that William's peepee was turnin char'd and wuz startin to smoke when she finally decided to squat over the fence and try's it hurself...well tha ground wuz kinda muddy frum William Jefferson's pee and she slipped and fell straight down on tha fence and straddled tha electric wire right between her slit. Well un she wuz kinda stuck there, tha electric wire just kept a throbbin between her legs and she wuz paralized.....every time William wuld try to help her the electricity wuld throw him away...William finully took a runnin start and shuved her off her shockin perch....so ther' they wure...William with his peepee smokin and char'd lookin like a hot dog that had been on tha fire, too long, and poor little Mable, her lips hangin down to her knees and her Klick Tortise biggur than William's peepee...She still hasn't spoke sence that day...just walks arund town with this freaky grin on her face....Strange kids, but that's life in Tightwad....

03/03/97

Hey there ya'll Bufurd C. Jones, Master Refuse Technician / Master Baiter / Computer Type Geezer here again, alls refrushed, and frisky sinse muh weekend down at Floyd's in TexArkana...It shur nuff hurt to go to work this mornin, but I gots to keep remindin muhself that I's provide a valuable servuce to the community, and they's provide me with valuble chicken chokin' materials...so anyways, like I was a sayin, I went down to my cusin Floyd's this last weekned to do sum fishin and gets away frum that naggin whore Tammy Waynette. Ol' Floyd's an interestin charactur, he got his right urm and his pee-pee bluwn to bits over there in that Vietnum wur...The Army felt so bad about him gettin shot up that they gave him a wooden urm and a steel plated wanker to show him there gratitude for a job well done....well, as ya'll have hurd im shure, the weather down there in Arkansa was just not fit for man nor whore....but we had a spell uf good fishin weather Sunday mornin and we headed out onto the lake to catch us sum monster catfish. When ol' Floyd went ta cast the furst line into tha lake, a big ol' gust of wind came up and blew the carp eggs we wuz usin fur bait all over his wooden arm...we didn't think nuttin of it, until ol' Floyd felt uh tug upun his line and started to reel it in...well I'll be a goat roapin foreigner if that wusn't the biggest god damn catfish I'd ever seen...when ol' Floyd an I's reached ovur the side to pickem up, anuther of the biggest god damn catfish yous ever did seen come up out of nowhere and swallowed ol' Floyd's wooden urm like it was a fancy bass lure and wouldn't let go, so wesa sturted fightin and wrasslin that ol catfish as hurd as we could...I happened to look up and saw the nastiest, biggest twister cumin over the damn that you ever did seen....there wuz debris flyin everywhere...I knew we's wuz in deep shit so I reached into my kit and got the needle saw I always keep there and sturted sawin ol' Floyd's urm off at the shoulder, but I couldn't saw fast enough...I gives Floyd the saw and went and floored that ol' trollin motor on the bass boat tryin to outrun the twister but it wuz too late, that ol twister picked us up and tossed us'n acruss the lake liken we we're two crawdads in a tub drain....anyways, to make a long story short, we's survived it someshow, and woke up on the opposite shore of the lake....that damn twister ripped every shred of clothes from our body, our boat was no where's to be found, and wurst of all, the damn catfishes were gone...we coulduf aten off of those furever....Ol Floyd' lost his urm again, he just had some tooth picks sproutin out of his shoulder blade....not to mention his uther urm was just laying there beside him all limp and lifeless, ands I hear ol Floyd a wimperin and ah cryin and I asks him whut wuz wrong, and he said his pecker was rustin, and shure enuff I looked at his crotch, and the gleamin steel was stickin straight out and the joints wasu sturtin to rust from all the water we's had just been in...we managed to get to our feet and walk back to the truck...Ol Floyd told me that he had a can of WD-40 in the back...So bein, the good cusin that I am, I got down on my knees and kneeled down in front of Floyd and sturted rubbin tha penetratin oil all over his steel member to keep it frum rustin any wurse, and, uh, that's when the rescue crews got there.........Tammy Western Unioned the bail late last night......

As always....I am Bufurd C. Jones

02/22/97

Hey folks, this here's Bufurd C. Jones, Master Refuse Technician, yeah ah a finally gots myself out of the hooscow, no thanks to tha cheatin whore Tammy. I dunno what that stupid womun was a thinkin when she thought I's woodnt muhnd sittin in jail whiles she went to Branson to hook up with that fat hog Kenny Rogers....Not much else is a happenin here in Tightwad this week..Got a letter from Junior the udder day, says en he's a gonna get out of prezon here pretty soon...That no good sumbitch is probably gonna come home wantin a place to live and a job...it was really a shitty week on the old trash route...lots of no good garbage, nuthin I's would' want to put my stamp of approval on...piple keep throwin away Spam...I's hate spam but I do think I found enuff fur 'The Dump...On Thersday, Tammy Waynette and Darla Louise got themselves into my still and stole dem selves a jug and went over to Darla and Bubba's trailer (its a very uptown 1956 Airstream) and sturted watchin some of those Hollywood sex films...well they's so enamoured (been readin sum fancy frech dictionarys, is u impresst?) by the actresses fancy shave jobs, that theys decided to shave each oter...Well, ol' Tammy runs back overs to our trailer and grabs my straigt edge razur and proceeds to start shavin ol Darla' Louise's pussy...and wudn't ya know, Tammy's GPC cigarette fell out of her mouth onto Darla Louise, Darla jumped and Tammy sliced off, as Darla put it, a very sensitive part of Darla's anatome. (I'm not fer sure what they called it, I've never ceen won befur, but is was something like a Klick Tortise or sumthin like that) I dunno, if I had a Tortise tween my legs, I would wunt it shaved off, but Tammy jumps intu the Vega and runs and gets me and we take this screamin Darla to the huspitul in Branson...an Tammy's gut this thing that looks like a midget's weenie in an ice bag...Well' to make a long story short, them fancy sity docturs sewed that midget weenie onto Darla and she claims to be jus' fine now...Says the sensativity is even greater than befur and keeps askin me ifn I wanna touch it, but I don't need to touch her weenie...I'm not that kind uf trash man...I've got muh own weenie to touch... Until next week, as always, I'm

Bufurd C. Jones

Master Refuse Technician / Master Baiter / Webtype Guy

02/15/97

Hi sugar, this here’s Tammy Waynette fillin in for the Buf' Daddy this week. Its been a tremendous week here in Tightwad Junction...as you probably read in Buf’s diary entry last week, Darla and I had a few drinks and headed up to Branson to go see that hunk Kenny Rogers at his theatre...Darla is such the lucky little whore, she’s already slept with the stud four times, I’ve only slept with him once, but since my gunucologist says anytime you sleep with someone you are sleeping with everyone they’ve slept with for the last seven years or so, so I figger the math goes something like, I’ve slept with Kenny once so I’ve slept with Darla four times in theory, and since I’ve slept with the little whore Darla eight times, that means I’ve slept with Kenny 32 times and Darla 16 times or something like that...She’s such a sexy little bitch, big tits, tight sweet pussy, no wonder Kenny can’t keep his stubbly little hands off of her, I can barely contain myself the way it is, my panties are drenched just thinkin about her rough little tongue sucking on my pussy, but Ol’ Kenny decides to be a prick head last weekend and had us thrown in the slammer just because we we’re fallowin him around the theatre trying to get our hands on that big ol’ piece of meet he keeps tucked in his pants...Darla made the mistake of sayin something about calling the National Enqurier and not getting paid the last time he stuffed his burrito into her taco and boom..there were the pigs...anyways, back to why I snuck into the back room to the TRS-80 to write this week’s diary entry...Ol’ Buf was so excited about the chat room gettin up and runnin that he and Bubba went downtown to have a beer and celebrate....Well, boys will be boys, and one drink led to another and another and another and pritty soon that crazy fuck Bubba got the urge to go chase Puck Ewe around town....the difference beein this time Bubba caught Puck behind the bowling alley and started having his way with her...Bufurd finally caught up to them and tried to pry Bubba and Puck apart...now that Bubba, he’s a strong one and was refusing to let go...ol Puck was creating a hell of a rucus....and someone called the pigs, who happen’ to shows up about the time ol ‘ Bufurd had Bubba in a big ol’ bear hug trying to pull him away from Puck. What a pitcture, I wish I had a copy to post on the site this week, Bufurd hugging Bubba from behind, while Bubba has pants down trying to commit an unspeakable act with Puck. Made all the local newspapers...and them ol’ Pigs thru Bubba and Bufurd in jail for Public Indecency, Creating a Public Nuisance, Sodomy, and attempted moral turpitude with an underage ewe. The bail’s set and I suppose I’ll go get him out sooner or later, but right now, I gotta finish puttin on my makeup and doin my hair...Darla’s comin over in about fifteen or so and we’re goin up to Branson...she’s been wantin to go up and propose a little sexual heelin three way with that super stud Glen Campbell...gosh, I’m gettin all wet again...I better go now. Maybe if Bufurd ain’t out of jail yet, I’ll let Georgia Pasific write this next week...she’s goin with us to Branson, something about needing some money for a paterninty test or sumthin...anywas sugar, till next time! Tammy Waynette Jones.

02/09/97

Well, its been one of dem damn weeks, I'd rather fuck the old whore than even think about goin back down to the city lot tommorrow and jumping in thats skanky ass garbage truck. Speaking of the old whore, I had to run down this week and bail the cunt out of jail...seems her and Darla Louise were out cattin in Branson and got themselves arrested for soliciting down at Kenny Rogers theatre there on 76...Seems they just can't get enough of that old fuck. It's Sunday morning and that dinglberry teenage daughter of mine still hasn't came home yet, heard she's dating the quarterback of the Pudwhack football team, seems downright fitting for the quarterback of the State Champion Beavers to be dating the arch enemies wide receiver....Not much fucking new around here, same old same old, Bubba keeps chasing Puck around town, if he doesn't watch it, he's gonna get picked up as a repeat offensiver, that poor ol' ewe hasn't done anything to deserve this... Shit, I don't feel like writing in this sissy ass journal anymore...time for a beer, a smoke, and to take a dump...

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