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A Publication of
The Republic of Floyd L.L.C.
(For more, be sure to visit our "Best of The Enquirer" Archive page)
The Floyd Enquirer is published every two months except when it isn’t. We didn’t notice we hadn’t “gone to press” since last February until our web host pointed it out….gosh, mea culpa….really! Be sure to read the “Floyd Tattler” page on this website…. It’s not funny either but it has some an amusing photos.
Another Brick in the wall…..
We’ve all experienced that eternal night of the soul….. teetering on the precipice while staring at the emptiness of our squalid lives…. pondering our foibles’… the missed opportunities…. the wrong choices we made….the gorgeous little redhead back in freshman year …. More importantly we search for meaning….. that spark that will allow us to proceed down the road of righteousness. What is missing in our lives… that so many other people seem to have? In my never ending quest to seek enlightenment, I’ve begun to notice certain people that are on top of their game. They posses that certain spark …. that “raison de etre”…that allows them to march through life with their heads held high, supremely confident in the knowledge that everybody else is stupid. These people possess that one critical attribute that is completely lacking in my own miserable, meaningless life…….an agenda!!! Agendas are the perfect antidote to existential angst …. a no fuss, no muss philosophy….. requiring virtually no critical thought. and, best of all, no namby pamby empathy. I’ve gotten as far as buying the red power tie but I’m not having much luck coming up with an actual agenda. With all of my years of marital vagenda training one might think finding a suitable agenda would be a breeze but it’s proving to be pretty complicated. The Jerry Farwell package looked enticing but I was disheartened to learn that agnosticism was a definite career stopper in the evangelical world. I briefly considered the Aryan Nation construct……it’s a complete package with tons of instructive literature, but I‘m too short to wear jackboots and that black ensemble clashes with my surfer boy Hawaiian shirt shtick. I’m currently studying the “Dick Chaney /Darth Vader save the world from itself” agenda and it’s looking pretty sweet…..I really love the whole projection of personal psychosis into manifest destiny thing. In the mean time, The Floyd Enquirer will devote a lot of coverage to expounding my practice agendas….. trial balloons as it were. At some point, in the not too distant future, there will come a brighter day when people like me will be in a position to tell people like you to follow that straight and narrow agenda I’m in the process of creating. Stay tuned…..
Gay Marriage
I’ve never given much thought to what other people do with their genitalia, but apparently it’s mandatory that all agendas include a position on this. As someone who has taken full advantage, numerous times, of the marital privilege, I would feel remorse in denying the gay community the richness, blessings, & rewards of this sacred institution. In fact, I don’t understand why homophobes are so adamant in their opposition…… if they have a problem with the thought of gay sex they should encourage the institution. As is well known, marriage has been proven to be a reliable cure for any form of sexual activity….
The “Floyd Experience”
You’ve heard the term..... you may have bought the T-shirt..... but just what the hell is it? In my marketing work with local businesses we endeavored to convey the charms of Floyd County to potential visitors. During countless meetings I’ve heard the term “The Floyd Experience” used in attempts to encapsulate what makes Floyd so unique. As expected, I never heard a consensus. For many, the Floyd Experience is listening to impromptu bluegrass sessions on someone’s porch ……. bringing in the Fall harvest….. a Sunday drive through the bucolic countryside. For me it’s Friday night at Ray’s watching all the ladies getting better looking as the night wears on. After this past Labor Day weekend, however, I now grasp the quintessential Floyd experience….at least the new one. It’s sitting thru 3 cycles at the stop light trying to make a left….
Ask Mr. T-Bone
Dear Mr.T-Bone
We are moving to Floyd and are doing our best to fit in to the wonderfully diverse culture in the area. Do you have any suggestions on deportment or dress code?
Signed; Biff & Buffy
Dear Biff & Buffy
Not to worry! Obviously, as evidenced by your concerns, you will be great additions to our little dysfunctional Floyd family. As regards deportment there are few rules. The only important one is….never piss off anyone carrying a gun. In light of Virginia’s concealed weapons rules, never piss anyone off over the age of 12. When exchanging opinions with anyone born here…. begin all responses with “you know, I never looked at it that way before…… thank you!” If expressing a controversial opinion…. say on bluegrass vs traditional music…. always preface it with…. “our pastor told us…..” As regards dress code….no ties unless you work at the bank or officiate at funerals….. no bib overalls unless at some point during a 24 hour period you actually have contact with a farm animal. And, absolutely, under no circumstances combine tie dyes with bib overalls unless you’re Tom Phelps. Regardless of your adherence to Floyd’s social etiquette, however, accept the fact that you’ll always be referred to as “those people”….. not only by the natives…. but also by people that got here a week ahead of you…..
Signed Mr. T-Bone
Floyd Fest Chronicles
Many of you have been clamoring for the new Enquirer issue, especially you folks with abandonment issues. Unfortunately, the Enquirer crew had to assist the Republic of Floyd crew with their first commercial venture at Floyd Fest. We were quite successful selling “objects de art” but we think it had less to do with the artistic quality of the product and more the proximity to the beer garden. It’s not rocket science to separate a stoner or an “imbiber” from $20. In any event, Floyd Fest, once again worked its magic generating a plethora of memorable moments. The music was enchanting … friendly crowds…. the setting & weather was beautiful….. but, regardless of all of the unique moments that occurred over the two weeks of preparation and the actual four days of the festival…… my most vivid memory…. not unlike rubbernecking a fatal wreck on the interstate… five foot off the ground… perched precariously on a ladder hammering away on the booth…..posed like Michael Angelo’s statue of David… …. was GratefulSteve’s 55 year old biker ass crack. My therapist has assured me that with intensive therapy I’ll probably be able to reach a state approximating normalcy….. the Deliverance mental sound track will abate….. and, given enough time, the “squeal like a pig” refrain will recede….
Talking “Southern Bastard”
Aside from slavery and a few other Southern “peculiarities”, I’m proud of my Southern roots. Born in Texas, raised in Louisiana, educated in North Carolina, 25 years in one part of Appalachia or another and now here in Floyd….. or “up north” as we’d say. I’ve gotten used to the fact that many people assume our Southern accents are indicative of our I.Q. or the lack there of. Personally, I’ve grown to enjoy this as it provides ample opportunity to perform my southern shtick and put ‘em under the “ether”. What has surprised me over the years, however, is the amount of guff I get from Southerners over my pronunciation of certain words. Don’t get me wrong…. in Louisiana we made fun of other Southern states…. thank god for Alabama & Mississippi……regardless of the poll, they always ranked dumber, fatter & poorer. Unfortunately, at 55, I’ve developed “Southern Bastard Talk” having picked up sayings and word pronunciations from everywhere I lived. New Orleans slang with an Alabama mumble….. soft North Carolina vowels mixed up with West Virginia mountain staccato…. But where the hell did I learn to pronounce “pie”…… I spent no time in Mississippi…hell, I can’t even spell it! But my “pie”…… it’s pure Tupelo…..it’s pronounced as a paragraph…..think Elvis. I went to the Floyd “libary” and asked if I had any “fyyynes”….. two ladies looked at me like I was from Mars…. but the more Southern of the two was finally able to interpret for the other… they both chuckled….. me, I didn’t pay no damn fyynees an dey din’t see da tu movies I be tucking unner my shurt…..
Goulash in the Floyd Gulag
As noted before in these pages, former local restaurateur, Rob Neukirch, once observed; “a chef with a vision & $300,000 can turn that into literally hundreds of dollars here in the lucrative Floyd dining market”. Like bees to honey, it is rumored that one or more gastronomic adventurers will soon dip their toes into the thriving Floyd dining market. Floyd’s wayward son, Michael Gouchiardo, returns to Floyd after a hiatus in Roanoke with “Mickey G’s Bistro” ….. Natasha is taking the plunge off the high dive with her first restaurant above the Harvest Moon and it’s rumored that Woody may finally realize his eternal dream of a pub & chop house at the new Station Square. Without a doubt, I wish all these folks the same riches & fame I garnered in my brief restaurant career at Over The Moon. On the other hand, every other existing joint in the County is also owned by a friend. Ray, though pushed to the limit, has never banned me from Ray’s….. Julie, though pushed over the edge, only cuts me off at Oddfella’s. The Pine Tavern…. what can I say ….. the bar service is beyond reproach…. the mixologist is witty & urbane…. and I’ve yet to piss myself off to the point where I would even consider not serving myself. So, how is a member of the Floyd community to fulfill their obligations to our friends in the food biz…..knowing that, as true Floydians , we can leave no brother or sister behind on the gastronomic battlefield ….. max out those credit cards & dine til it hurts……..
You’re invited to my tea party
Running as a Nihilist for the Floyd County Board of Supervisors I realized that I would face an uphill battle simply because of my party affiliation. When people think of a nihilist they picture a scrawny Swedish dude with acne dressed in black wearing stupid glasses ….. saying rude things and being a perfect bore at social gatherings. That may be true in Hamburg or New York but here in Floyd, nihilists are flotsam of a different color. We’re just glad to be here…. waiting out the end times while trying to contribute to the festivities. You see…Nihilist are simple folks and we too want to prevent socialized medicine and get big government out of people’s lives…… returning socialist programs to the private sector and our caring & compassionate captains of industry….and, as luck would have it, fellow nihilist. The School Lunch Program….it’s a no brainer…turn it over to Halliburton! Medicare… AIG’s a natural. The Social Security Program….. Bernie Madoff! Public transportation…. hmmmm…GM or Chrysler? Public Utilities, only one choice there….Enron! We figure the Public Library system would be a good fit for Books A Million & Blackwater is a shoe in to replace our costly military. We’re not sure what to do with agricultural price supports, offshore oil drilling on public lands or the United States Postal Service…. but we know they’re pink to the core. Remember this November, “Mr. T-Bone…the change Floyd County needs.”
Mr. T-Bone’s Escort Service
“Inappropriate For Any Occasion”
I’ve been desperately looking for a new business these past few years and I think I’ve found a business concept that suits my skills and plays to my strengths. I really like women, parties and I’ve got an extensive track record of inappropriate behavior……..
Tired of attending the same old boring Floyd sworries..... spice things up with Floyd’s premier Escort Service featuring Mr. T-Bone.
Testimonial
“My parents despised my new fiancée, Chip , until I hired Mr. T-Bone to escort me to the family Thanksgiving gathering. Mom almost fainted when Mr. T-Bone suggested a 3 way with her & Granny. And Dad...... you should’ve seen his face when Mr. T-Bone fired up the crack pipe during the blessing.... priceless! It was probably a little over the top, but the projectile vomiting during dessert was a fitting grand finale. Chip& I are getting married this June & Daddy bought us a duplex and is sending us to Tahiti for our honeymoon. Thank you Mr.T-Bone!”
Attending the funeral of someone you disliked……. Can’t avoid seeing the ex-wife at your daughter’s wedding? Take Mr. T-Bone…… paybacks are hell!
Contact republicoffloyd@swva.net for additional information.
Republic of Floyd Sells Out!!!
“Give us your money…. At least we’ll have fun with it!”
We don’t have a pledge of allegiance but, if you feel the urge, a snappy salute might be appropriate at this point. Unbeknownst to most of our readers, the Republic of Floyd is not just a purveyor of the lurid Floyd Enquirer…. it’s also a Floyd inadvertent non-profit post industrial federation of employment challenged artist, entrepreneurs and ner’er do wells seeking fame and fortune through the wonderful world of commerce. We are pleased to announce that, after years in development, our full line of Floyd merchandise is available at the Floyd Country Store, Chateau Morrisette and, once a year, Floyd Fest. Blessed and sanctioned by our spiritual guides, the Llama brothers….. Tony, Lorenzo & Dali……. this line of merchandise offers a tasteful and sustainable option when you chose to needlessly squander your limited financial resources on merchandise of questionable value.
In producing this fine line of merchandise, Republic of Floyd is proud to exploit the talents of a mildly interesting assemblage of Floyd characters. Our confederation of dunces currently includes a talented young artist, Emily Williamson, who creates many images used on our prints and wearable’s. Barb Gillespie not only edits the Floyd Enquirer but is equally guilty of Design Concepts & Creativity for merchandise. Elaine Martinez is thoughtlessly exploited as our “Diva of Graphic Design” while Doug “Mr. Popular” Thompson created & maintains our website. Joey Jones, our token potter, is on board to supply us with a large measure of bohemia and a modicum of artistic credibility. Mr. T-Bone, of course, remains our Wizard of Ooze…… guiding the hapless crew down Floyd’s yellow brick road.
Your purchase of our merchandise not only ensures that we will not eat the adorable Labrador puppy I’m now holding in my lap…..it also supports a multitude of otherwise “unemployables” and thus, under certain circumstances quite conceivably might just be tax deductable. It is our sincerest hope that you will help us achieve our lofty goal of “getting over on the man”, taking the company public and ultimately selling out to Wal-Mart so that we can return to our fulltime day jobs of sloth & decadence.
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(For more, be sure to visit our "Best of The Enquirer" Archive page) |
