Crocker! Iceman King Parsons Keeps on Truckin', Jeff Hardy Keeps on Cruisin', and Some Things Aren't Safe To Google From Work
By Dan Crocker Sep 29, 2011 - 4:11 PM
I was an hour late getting home from work today. Why? Was there an accident, you ask? Did your car break down?
No. Nothing as normal as that. There was just a double-wide trailer home abandoned and sitting across the highway. Welcome to Missouri! I'm not the only one making news, however, Hogan
was on Good Morning America this week.
Instead of discussing the "huge" announcement he's going to make on
TNA, he shared his special helpful hints on tatting doilies.
He also mentioned his finances. He claims that they are getting better, but not what they once were. He's apparently living in a rental house. I'm living in a rental house, too, Hulk. It has no inside doors and I eat Beanie Weenies six days a week.
I guess we're in the exact same boat, you and me.
In any event, I happened to be the first person at the "scene" today when I came across the abandoned trailer sitting across highway.
At least, I thought it was abandoned, but after I sat there for about fifteen minutes and a line of cars had backed up a few miles behind me, guess who walked on out of the joint.
That's right. Iceman King Parsons.
He was carrying a cold six pack of Milwaukee's Best Light with him. He looked at me and smiled the way only Iceman can.
"Rooty Poo, Cracker," he said.
"I'll be damed," I said. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again. To be honest, I thought you were dead."
"Not the Iceman. The Iceman just keeps on truckin'. Come on up here on the porch and let's have a cold one."
Well, I'm never one to turn down a cold beer, especially with my old pal. So there was sat, on the front porch of a double-wide trailer home in the middle of Highway 55 having a few brews.
It's almost October folks. That means Halloween. That means grown ass women dressed up in slutty costumes. To celebrate, I'm going to post a picture of a slutty wrestler every week until Halloween**. That is unless I forget.
So let's get started.
Enjoy yourselves, gentleman!
For just $379 you can take a cruise with TNA's own Jeff Hardy.
For just $15.00, you can smoke crack with him.
That's a bargain at any price, folks.
As the traffic backed up even farther, and Ice Man and I had just about finished our beers, we heard the wail of sirens in the distance.
"That must be my ride," Iceman said.
He didn't look upset about it though. He actually looked pretty pleased with himself.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"Well," he said, "If this was fifteen years ago, I'd butt butt those pigs all the way to Arkansaw. You know ain't nobody got a harder butt than the Iceman. "
"I know that's right. I mean, I once saw you knock out The One Man Gang with it."
"You better believe it. Still, I'm no spring chicken anymore. In fact, I might be dead. I can't remember. So I guess I'll go with them peacefully, but I'll go knowing one thing."
Iceman pointed to the double-wide.
"This sumbitch is paid for," he said.
**Note: I wouldn't type "slutty wrestler" into Google at work.