Ruckus Central
The Search For Ted Nugent Gets Closer
Last Updated: 10/7/2003
The Word On The Streets
Okay last Sunday night, me, Sam, Bubba and Adam go to Dzen's to see if Ted Nugent shows up. We knew that the previous Sunday there had been a siting but no one was on hand with a camera to capture a reliable image of the beast. So we went to investigate the situation and to also determine whether or not there would be a repeat of the incident. He never showed. However, we also learned from Ashley that the night before, Ted Nugent had paid a visit to Movie Gallery in Rockville. So we went to Rockville to see if he'd be there returning his movie. Unfortunately, he wasn't. We inquired of the clerk if she had worked the night before, which she hadn't. We then asked her if she knew what a mullet was (and of course, she did) and then we asked if she knew a guy who came in a lot with a mullet and shaved arms and legs. She didn't. Once again, the search for Ted Nugent had us confounded.
The following night I was working with Carole. We were just minding our business helping customers when all of a sudden a small economy sedan bearing the Connecticut license plate 462-MGT pulled in to the driveway. Quickly, Ted Nugent and his clan got out of the car and approached the ice cream window. I had to leave the room to get my camera because I figured there would be many good photo opportunities. And as you can see above, there were. Well it turned out that this was a peculiar visit by Ted for many reasons. Firstly, he treated his whole family to a smorgasbord of ice cream delights. Whereas he usually only allows them to order the hum-drum flavors of vanilla, chocolate or twist, this time he let them all get Nor'Easters!! (If you don't know, a Nor'Easter is a Dzen Garden Market® equivalent to Dairy Queen's Blizzard® and they cost much more than vanilla, chocolate or twist.) Even weirder was that the fucker didn't get a Nugent Nor'Easter but he got one with vanilla ice cream, bananas, pineapple and walnuts...fuckin' gross. Anyway, he came in after getting ice cream to get corn while his little rat-tailed son used the bathroom. I was going to get a pic of his kid, but then daddy Nugent came in and I figured it wouldn't be a good idea. Here is the pic of Ted getting corn:
assholes like to eat corn too
So Ted and his clan finally left after splurging on ice cream and corn (who the fuck gets ice cream and corn?) and left the premises. I went in to the bathroom to clean up for the night and the place was an absolute MESS. That little rat-tailed bastard emptied out like half of the soap dispenser into the goddamn sink and left it there for me to clean up. There were paper towels and toilet paper everywhere. But here is this killer: sitting innocently on the rim of the toilet was a slightly oblong spherical item of a dark maroon color. It resembled a rotten seckel pear but had the hard consistency of plastic. I have no choice but to believe that it was an alien egg and that Ted Nugent and his family are an alien family put on earth to annoy all of us. I am going to catch that fucker.
In Vermont news, last weekend I had another run-in with my asshole neighbor. It was 8:30 on a Friday night and we were minding our business, shooting off mortar shells and rockets. All of a sudden, a light turned on at the Jenkin's residence. We wondered whether or not he was home because the place seemed to have been dead all day. We thought mayhaps it was an automatic timer on the lights to deter burglars from entering the cottage (because you know how vicious the crime is in northern Vermont) however that theory was quashed when a human walked by the window and the light went off. Sam said "Light another mortar then he'll definitely come over." So I lit another mortar and just like a fucking ghost or something, BAM! Owen is standing at the side of the property. He asked if Matt was around. "Matt? Why are you looking for Matt?" (Matt is my cousin who goes to the cottage sometimes. He has a juvenile criminal record and is known for his propensity to being white-trashular.) Owen told us that a few weeks ago, Matt was shooting off fireworks and that he had a similar problem with him doing it "so late at night." However he did say that Matt had written him a very good letter in protest of some things he "probably shouldn't have said." The fucking idiot tried finding me on public records to write me a response to the letter, but of course he couldn't find me if he was looking for some kid named Matt. So I told him that I was the one who wrote the letter and that I SIGNED it "Paul Aseltine" and then we had a fifteen minute argument that basically followed this pattern:
Owen: Why do you feel the need to do this?
Paul: You told us we could shoot off fireworks until 10pm. It's 8:30.
Owen: Yes but it's not Fourth of July.
Paul: Okay well you said we could do that. Do you remember saying that?
And then he would ask me again why we felt it so necessary to shoot off fireworks. I finally told him that we really weren't being malicious and trying purposely to disturb him...we just liked fireworks. We weren't there on July 4th and if we had been, we wouldn't have had fireworks anyways. We had them now and we wanted to use them and we were in total compliance with his wish of doing them before 10pm. I told him if he MEANT for us not to use them at all, he should have said so. Then he said he was drawing the line and didn't mind if we did them around July 4th but September was apparently not the right time of year to celebrate the human ingenuity of inventing gunpowder.
But here is the best part: Before we got into the cyclical argument about why we would want to shoot off fireworks, he went into that shit about how they are good neighbors. So I asked him what his name was. (I wasn't sure if he was indeed Owen Jenkins because I know he rents the place out to other people and it could have been one of them.) So he replied in such a noble manner, "My name is Owen Jenkins and I have been coming here for 20 years." So then I said to him, "So your the one who SUED my grandfather for $3,000 because my uncle cut down a SAPLING?" He hung his head low and replied "I didn't sue anybody." So I told him that my grandfather did indeed pay litigation of $3,000. Owen tried telling me that it wasn't my grandfather that paid, but only his insurance company. I said, "I don't care, it was in his name. 'Good neighbors' don't do things like that." He's a fucking asshole and I can't wait until next July 4th because I am going to invite all my friends (and yes, all you faithful Ruckus Central viewers) to the cottage and we are going to have the biggest fireworks extravaganza the green mountain state has ever seen.
In Dzen co-worker news, this week's update has a special section devoted to Adam Soltoski. His current middle name is Walter however he would like to get it changed to Seckel-Walter. His reasonings for doing this is two-fold. Firstly, he loves seckel pears and can't get enough of them. Secondly, he would like his initials to be A.S.S. His greatest fear is jumping in a pool full of band-aids. His specialty is a coffee milkshake. He is going to Europe after he graduates. While his accomplishments are many and great, his biggest claim to fame is shooting a spit ball onto a pot of mums and having it stay there for weeks, braving the winds of Hurricane Isabel and other natural disasters. You can see him below:
Adam poses modestly with his spitball
In baseball news, this most recent AL Division Series between the A's and the Sox has been the most stressful, gut-wrenching weekend of my life. I hired a cardiologist to monitor my vitals during the Yankees series. With any luck I will come out of it alive. I'll see you in the World Series.
That is it for now, make sure to check out the other pages for updates!
Lataz,
-Pauly
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