These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... City a Mars

Now we gotta talk about the city. Sure they got other places up here. And some a them mighty slick too. But this one the king. This one the best. This one got it all. You ever been there? Barsoom, I mean. Named it after them Frank Marshall books. Don't ask me when he lived. Back before. That is all I know. Wrote down a lotta crap bout Tarzan-like goomers on Mars and big tittie princesses wiff saber-toothed tigers 'stead a French Poodles. Think they wore these suede bikinis too. You ever see a princess partial to a suede bikini? I don't mean like out on a beach. I mean like walkin' into church and all.


First Fleet put down 'round 2051. Some other goomers came by 'fore then. But that was just a howdy-doo. Grabbed a few rocks. Said a couple prayers. Dumped the first Captain Kirk's ashes into a hole in the ground. Did a dance. Did another dance.  Whole lot a hinky-dink, mostly for the folk back home. But they did sprinkle some seeds down 'tween two rocks, right over a 'damp spot.' Then they set up a little camera to see if they growed. Folks back home watched the whole thing. And ten days later (Mars days is mostly equal to Earth days) they knowed. They saw. They knew. It was possible. It could happen. Life from Earth could prosper here.  'Cause a whole mess a little green shoots come snakin' up toward the sun. Ain't no oxygen back then. But that wern't no problem, 'cause plants knows how to make it. They breathe it out. It like their shit. 


After that, whole cattle cars a seeds be dumped on this planet. Some took. Some  did not. But the ones what took won out. According to them what knows, two million, twenty ton loads a seeds got smashed onto this here rock. Then came the water, mostly from artificially crashed in comets. And twenty year later it commenced to rain. 


They did other stuff to goose things along. But that was the main thing. Held prayer meetin's in Jerusalem. Same thing in Rome. Three times the usual number made the Haj that year. Some folk up here got old magazine covers from that time. Collector's items, they calls 'em. Real pricey now too. Know what they say? They say - A Renewal of Revelation...  What comes next?......... Oh, that's what they thought back then. Look, them Plymouth Rock Pilgrims wrote 'bout 'A City On a Hill' too. 


But you know what we got? ....... We got Barsoom.


Come back tomorrow. I'll tell yuh more.........


Best to go inside now. Chupicabras startin' a yelp.


~~~/\/\/\/\~~~~~~~~/\/\~~~~~~~~~~/\/\/\~~~~


click on that SHARE button? leave a comment? thank you kindly.

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Night Talk

The cops were camped outside. One or two were somewheres  in the big house, but they mostly stayed outta sight. Hobart wanted to call in his own people. He got ties to private security guys when he need 'em. Miss Sissie say she don't want 'em. She say give it a chance. Let the police do whatever it is they do.  He say - Alright..... But then he go down into the den to make phone calls. Got a special line. Can't be bugged or hacked into. Well, once some dumb goomer managed to dip into it. But then he got 'hacked' into right back. Tit for tat it was. 'Cept wern't too much tit left to tat when they were done.


Kids is all upstairs. Zeb and India whisperin' away in their room. Alec's wife (that what they usually call her) laid out over the bed in guest room number one. All the grandbabies tucked away in they places. Alec's kids are what might be charitably called 'semi-assholes,' but they are STILL 'family' semi-assholes. And Hobart knows they scared plenty. 


Now he come back up from the den. Must a called his 'cowboys,' his private posse. They won't show up right away. They just gonna go huntin' a little. See what the dogs turn up. 


Bart can't stomach the crowd Alec mushes up wit. Bunch a weak, gutless, whining, 'give-aways.' That all they want a do. 'Help the poor.' 'Do somethin' for them Tuva-Tuva folks.' 'Be nice!' 'Be nice!' 'Be nice!' Be nice to grind 'em down to bone meal. That what he think. 


Miss Sissie just sit there. She pretend like she knittin'. But that ain't gonna be no vest or nothin'. Skinny Tuva-Tuva gal give her an ice-tea. She ain't gonna drink it. 


Maybe she want a talk? Maybe that would help settle her a little? But that Old Man don't wanna talk. He like to look at the fire. That what he do when he don't wanna talk. Bart real good at fire-lookin'. But he thinkin'. Oh, yeah, he thinkin'.


Got drones outside too. Cops put them up. Fly all over lookin' at stuff and sniffin' for stuff. Don't know what they doin' over in the city. But that is the last place people seen 'im.  Stinker call the shots over there. Bart mus' know somethin'. But he don't say.


Wanna know what I think? They gonna find him. They gonna find the body. Then they gonna grab an 'Oswald,' maybe whole bunch a 'Oswalds.' Cut 'em up real good. Burn 'em up real nice.......... Not the goomers what did it. Stinker like them. He need them. They animals. They do things. Dumb, maybe. But they do things. 


Then Zeb gonna sit his ass in the senate. Miz India gonna smile at folks and cut a lot a ribbons. The other one, the 'wife'.......Alec's wife, I mean, will get taken care of. Settle a little gold on her. Maybe fix them semi-assholes up a little. It'll be all right. Miss Sissie gonna go a teensy bit more crazy. But she cruisin' down that road anyway.


And Stinker and Hobart gonna reach an agreement. Who know? Maybe somebody close to that fat bastid gonna go 'gook' too?


Now if you were to take a look outside, if you were to take a look into the inner workin's aWhitey's brain, you'd see them wheels turnin'. He nervous. He sweatin'.  Want a sneak off to that book writin' goomer in the city. Only he can't. Them drones worse'en hoss-flies. Them drones is everywheres. So he gotta stay put. 


Had a hide that chewed off finger, though. Had a hide that gruesome keep-sake REAL good. So you know what he did?....... Aw, come on! You don't 'spect me to spell it out for you? Do you? 


But let jus' say he walkin' a little funny. And let jus' say that old hound dog payin' extra special 'ttention to his butt.


)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)=)


click the SHARE button? leave a comment? thank you.

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Barsoom

Stinker Jones liked to walk. For a fat bastid, he didn't do too bad. Sure the 't.t.' was there. That means town tank, for you folks in other timelines.  Driver kept pace wit him, holdin' up traffic and all. But who is gonna say somethin'? This is Stinker Jones we are talkin' about. He owns this city. And if any asshole livin' here is deranged enough to doubt that, he better get used to bein' dead, or possibly just blind and crippled, depending on the present mindset of 'The Stinker.' Sure, when you go out a town other people start pickin' up the slack. People like Bart Texaco (Hobart) and his tribe. That is why this Zeb bein' senator thing is so impordent. Yeah, I know. You lookin' for that 't' in impordent. But we got rid a that lousy, Earth hinky-dink real fast. Who the hell wants a be like them son-a-bitches? We 'Mars' and we proud. Do you know children here grow three inches taller than them puny Earth bastids? It the gravity what does that. We got less a it. Spines are straighter. Legs is longer. I know somebody must a told you that already, 'cause you been here a while and you must know. Go into a store here and them pants wit the thirty four inch inseams is for the midgets. Thirty eight is more like it. Open your eyes. You must a picked up on that. Hell, even our midgets wun't be no midgets back on Earth. And Stinker's a midget. Don't never say nothin'. No, really. I am not jokifyin'  you. Just keep your malf shut 'bout that thing. Last shit-for-brains did that wound up donatin' his lower legs to medical science. 


Look how folks give him the 'howdy-doo' when he go by. But take note a how he do not look up to no man. Just glances off to the side, like he disgusted wiff 'em, or somethin'. And you know what? He prob'ly is. Knows all their secrets. Stinker knows ev'rything. My guess is he knows 'sactly where Mister Alec is right now. How could he not. Who you think paid them goomers?


It jus' his way. Like to give a little 'pinch' to guys. Make 'em jitterfied. Give 'em palpitations. Wun't never 'make bang-bang' wit the good son. Won't never do that to Mister Zeb or nothin'. That 'cause he got use for him. I mean, who the hell gonna vote for Stinker Junior? He too much like his pa.  And even though the fix is in, you still gotta go by the rules..... a little bit.


Zeb look like a senator. He smile like a president. And Miz India stand there just like a later day Nancy Reagan. But don't think she ain't got teef too. She got plenty teef. Them what knows say she pay people to gather up secrets for her little basket too. And I hear it overflowin'.


Oh, Stinker real glad now. He goin' into The King's Club. That joint got the best steaks in town. All the 'big hats' stuff they taiter traps in there. Know who owns it? Larry King. Yeah, Larry King. Same Larry King as you got. After he retired, the skinny, little bastid had hisself all re-upholstered and juiced up in some secret hinky-dink. Now, them what can pay, do it all the time. But he was one the pioneers.


Know what brought him out here? Know why he came to Mars? His ticker. Folks wit bad tickers does better here. Got less pullin' on it. Brand new fresh air.  This place God's country. It is. It really is. Why we got more chapels in assorted varieties  out here than a dead cow got maggots.


But you know Mister Stinker's driver?....... Mister Hobart pays him.....


$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$+$


please give that SHARE button a tap. leave us a comment, too. thank you

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Lost Sheep

Davey didn't come down stairs. Just stayed in his room flyin' that little, android sky-pony. It was smart to. Turned neat, fast figure eights. Throwed back it's head and whinnied. This one was better. He was glad he got the Clydesdale. That other one was too puny.


Listen to them grown-ups yellin' downstairs. Mom-mom cryin' . Daddy talkin' a mile a minute. Mommy jigglin' the ice in her whiskey drink. He could hear that real clear. He was used to it. Sometimes he made out he couldn't hear it. Called it 'the rocky-rocks.' Davey would a been happier if the dog was up here, but that hound was pop's hound and he wern't goin' nowheres. 


Must a been about five cop tanks outside. Everybody makin' calls, bringin' in sniff-hogs. That's a new breed. You know how they used to train them French pigs  to sniff out truffles under all that damp shit? Well these porkers raised up from them. Just as good as dogs. Better, even. 'Cause if they don't do right you can always eat 'em. 


Whitey holed up in the stables. Just sat there dealin' hisself hand after hand a black jack. Just settin'. Just thinkin'. He knew Alec was dead. And he knew where he were. Maybe little later he'd be able to sneak off and meet that book son-a-bitch. Prob'ly could do so now. Still, no tellin' what them Texacos might 'require.' Send him out for somethin'.  Make him tote shit down from the attic. Whitey truly hated them. Used to dream 'bout smashin' in Zeb's head wit a rock. To bad he wern't th dead one. Alec wern't too bad, if you liked crazy shit. Set hisself up as a theater director. Live wit all them commmuniss hinky-dinks in Barsoom. Who the hell wanna sit through one a them fancy-talkin'-shit-shows anyway? 


So Whitey din't go nowhere. Just sat, right down there in the dirt. Saw two cops run out and grab somethin' from one a the tanks. Heard Miss Sissie warblin' one a her hymns. Bart was cryin'. That made him feel all tingly-like. Shit, that was scary.


Two seconds later he saw it. Fell right down next to his foot. Some goomer must a tossed it. Looked like a caterpillar wit rigor-mortis at first. But then the light from the stable catch somethin'. It was a fingernail, a human-bean, man's fingernail. 'Cept for the fact it was all chewed up 'round the base,  the rest of it looked OK. Even had a little tattoo  settin' right up by the knuckle. A. T., Alec Texaco. Little shit head did that to hisself when he was ten years old. 


Well..... at least 'some' a him was back.....


()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()


this here our 500th post. please hit the SHARE button. please favor us with a comment. thank you.

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... A Killin'

Whitey just wheeled that sky-pony 'round and headed back. Then he put her in for the night and went outside. Kid wasn't there. He liked talkin' to Davey for a lot a reasons.  First of all, the kid was truly likable.  Second, he picked up a lot a inside information that way. Kids are like that. Spill the beans, if you know what I mean. Tuva-Tuva gals say things too. He knows some a their lingo. Hell, even Miss Sissie drops a few nuggets every now and then. Rich folks never think the 'help' know nothin'. And even if they does, what are they gonna do about it? 'Cause it ain't just what you know. It's who you know to tell it too. Don't believe me? Try gettin' past some uppity bitch receptionist. You might be privy to the biggest secret there is. You might have the Lost Ark of the Covenant and The Holy Grail collectin' dust right on top a your dining room table. You could be the most confident son-a-bitch on Mars. But jus' try snakin' your way passed some pig face receptionist. Just go try it. And see how long it take her to throw back her head and spit out the word 'SECURITY!' Less you got some 'cousin' on the other side, you ain't gonna git on that other side. Whitey know that. That's why he so careful. 


That big goomer, the one wit the limp, the one he seen out in the borderlands really did look like somebody. Now lots a folks come out to the ranch. Polvarosa barbecues is famous. Trooper Day is a big deal. They still do The Forth of July.  Hell, they got one most every month. And you KNOW how many months we  got here on Mars. Calendar got 'two counts.' the short count, which is the Earth way and the long count, which is our way. Little bit complicated, but we used to it. Hell, Miss Sissie got a shuffle in that old Jew calendar too. She still lights candles every week, even if nobody else 'round here pay any 'tention to 'em.


Whitey got a good brain. He will track that memory down and find it. 


Right now, they all runnin' 'round and hollerin' over by the big house. Mister Zeb and Miz India 'spected back from town. Gonna have a fancy celebration supper in honor of the soon-to-be new senator. Alec 'spossed to be comin' too. He the other son, Zeb's brother. I'll tell you 'bout that one later. But his wife just called, all frantic like. Seems he never came home from work to pick her up. Little assholes all dressed up (I hate them). She got her stringy, lady-bald head all weaved up for the occasion. Gonna take holograms and everything...... But the brother never showed. And he ain't answerin' his phone. 


Noise traveled all the way out to the stables. Air on Mars is like that. Whitey heared the whole thing. And what they was yellin' sort a jogged  somethin' lose from his brain. But he just sat there real quiet like. Put his beer bottle down in the dust and just stared. 'Cause he remembered the gimpy guy.  He  know where he seen him. 


Then, when he look up he spy two police tanks turnin' down the driveway ( almost a kilometer long). And two seconds later Mister Bart come runnin' out a the house all crazy-like  to meet 'em.


+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+


kindly click on that SHARE button. favor us with a comment. write anything you like. it all good. much obliged to you.

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Cimmaron

Now do not think all the Tuva-Tuva are tamed. Sure, you see 'em workin' in stores and playin' nanny to snot nosed little bastids. But that's just some a them. The rest are 'out there,' far beyond where the Earth folks dare to go. Every once in a while they send army dudes into to the badlands on 'clean-ups'. And I mean dudes a both sexes. They fire off a few rounds, rattle some dried up bones, lasso a Tuva bandit or two. Once in a while they accidentally on purpose kill somebody..... You know what I mean when I say 'somebody.' I mean one a them orange hinky-dinks. ....Hinky-dinks is a big word out here. It's like what-cha-m'call it, or yadda-yadda used to be back in your benighted time. Everybody say it. You see a dust devil, it a hinky-dink. Cowboy start actin' crazy, he got the hinky-dinks.  Ugly babies is hinky-dink babies. Yah get gas  and start shootin' bunnies, yah go - 'scuse me, I got a bad case a the hinky-dinks. Some a the dumber ma's even tap it out on absence notes for they lazy, little fat asses...... Please excuse my little catfish. He got the hinky-dinks. ........ Me? I hardly ever say it. I prefer 'turdarific' myself. I believe it conveys a certain sense of dis-stink-shun.


Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. I was tellin' you 'bout them Tuva folk...the wild ones. 


They got caves, real deep ones, back from the days when Mars had its own water, before we brung them comets. Nobody go all the way down. Nobody want to. Look, you don't know about all the critters we got out here yet. What, you know 'bout them big, blue crickets? Hell, they ain't nothin'. You can eat  them. Cook up real pretty, just like hard-shell crabs. I gotta take you to a cricket shack. Show you what I'm talkin' 'bout. And then  you heared about the 'chupis'? All right, but we got chupi guns for them. We got zap fences. Them, we can beat. Sure they take out a few wide-eyes, screamin' settlers. Bunch a dopes. Should a never stepped off Earth in the first place.


And you know what gets me? The blood. The DNA. why is it all them varmints runnin' round  over here got relly-tives back on Earth? Somebody been playin' in the pet shop. Somebody been messin'  wit the herd. Egg-head types say it happened prob'ly back before the last ice-age. But we ain't never found no 'arks' yet. 'Less they out in the badlands. 


Ever once in a while Whitey take out a sky-pony. He like to glide low over the border lands. Not exactly bad...yet. Just a little bit mischievous. Sometime he see things. Sometime he don't. Once he circled for maybe half an hour, watchin' a bunch a chupicabras   gnawin' on what was left of a half dead human. Couldn't tell if it was 'boy' or 'girl'. They already chewed up all the good parts.  He a bit too far out that time.  Don't do that too often. His best trick is lettin the horse dump a heavy load a hot crap all over city folk. You know the type. Got guards. Got chupi guns. Got protein bars. Got face wipes. All duded out in that catalog ' gear they order up from Earth. Shit that makes 'em mad. But them sky-ponies fast. They go WHUMP-WHUMP-WHUMP wit them big wings they got and BAM, they out a there. 


Only this time, he did see something. Horse was up high, so maybe they did not notice. But he saw. He saw the whole thing. Two big  guys drag a tied-up dope outta  a 'tank.' (armored 'Hummer-like vehicle). Guy screamin' and pleadin'. But it don't do him no good. They just drag him over to a long, twistin' crack and start rollin' him in. He tense his body, tryin' to bridge the gap. They pick up a few rocks and drop 'em on his belly. He groans. He screams. He cries. He shrieks.  But he goes down. Took a little work. But they get rid of him. Then they get back in the tank, slam the door and drive away. Mars is real good at hidin' stuff. And them Tuva-Tuvas is real good at findin' 'em.


Whitey saw it all. And one a them goomers look like somebody he seen before. Who knows? Maybe it was just the way he limp.


~~~/\/\~~~~~~~~~/\/\/\/\/\/\/\~~~~~~~/\/\/\/\~~


please click on the SHARE button. favor us with a tweet. thank you

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... Dinner time

Ole Effie led 'em all into the fancy eatin' room. Miz India had it all tricked out with rare antiques. The table was a twelve seater, made from two attached slabs a double thick pine, taken from the last Sizzler on Earth. It still had the original, carcinogenic, glossy veneer. And a close inspection will show you that a certain lothario, named Ray-Ray loved Bootsie back in '86. India wanted to sand that out, but the dealer said it only adds to the value. But Stinker Jones is a low-life. He don't know nothin' 'bout no antiques. Justs smacks hisself down and breathes heavy, waitin' for the food. Poor folks, which in most places means just about everybody, eats 'cultured' beef. They grow it in factories from discarded cow placentas. Some a them cells get twisted into chuck roast, or hamburger, or poor-folk-steak. Who cares? They buy it. They don't know no different. But rich folks eats the real stuff, made from authenticated, certified, dead bovines. That's what they were havin', big ole, thick, grilled rib steaks, hacked off a terrified, fresh slaughtered, young heifer. Her little boy went for veal chops. Same day and everything. Ain't that nice?! You know, that way neither one had to go on without the other. Them what kills 'em strives to be real humane.


Zeb sat back in his big, host chair (also an antique reputed to be from Pee-Wee's Playhouse)  givin' the fat man the ole fish eye. He knowed 'bout this dinner for weeks. Hobart fixed it all up. Had a shove a lot a 'hot peppers' (Trooper slang for money) up Stinker's ass for that one....... 'Senator'....... Senator Zebulon Vance Texaco from the great state of El Plano, Mars. And to be truthful, even if he did not like all the tedious, busy work involved, he did like the sound of it. Couldn't help but advance his status at The Mount Olympus Club. That a big town club. All the old Trooper (1st settlers on Mars) families keep memberships. Got the best food, the best booze and the best whores. And some a them whores even graduated theyselves into wives. You see, Mars is that kind a place. Folks ain't so formal here. People be graduatin' into all sorts a thing.


Look, here come Effie wit the food. Whole roast cow, on a silver platter. One a them new mini varieties.  Weigh 'bout fifty pounds 'fore killin'. Cleanin' and dressin' bring 'em down  to 'bout thirtyfive or so. Effie old, but she strong. She can handle it. Stinker get the head 'cause he a guest.


They say the cheeks (lips too) is the bestest part.


Yes siree, life in the later day a the twenty second century is mighty special...mighty special indeed.


See? He likes it! Look  how he dig out that fat, little tongue!


(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)(O)


y'all wanna click on that there SHARE button 'fore us? much obliged if you'd favor us wit a comment. thank you kindly.