TriFecta of Gus

Everyone has something they say all the time. A drop-line as it were (I just leaned that term, not gonna lie). Me, I just tend to swear… a lot. No really. A. Lot. Most of my friends would say my drop-line is (well, was) ‘Jesus H.’, ever since I read Christopher Moore’s Lamb. That man is a genius. Sometimes I’d go with the full name for umph, you know, like when your mom was pissed and used all three or five of your names, ‘Jesus H. Christ’. Then of course are the variations for effect… christ on a cracker, or christ on a fucking cracker or in a really good moment mutha-fukin-christ on a mutha-fukin-cracker. The christ on a cracker seems to have been adopted by several friends, as have choice other things… and that is an entirely different story.

This, this is really a story of a man named Brady. Okay no it isn’t, but that would be rad right!? Well, actually there is a dog named Brady… but I digress. So one fine eve at the beer drinkin’ writing spot, I was hangin out with Zimm and Grrr. We were discussing life and the finer points of beer as we are want to do over a fine Belgian, IPA or some other high alcohol content beer or six two, and a conversation started about my affinity toward the Jesus Candle. I don’t know if you heard about my love of the Jesus Candle or my quests to find the most amazing possible pieces for my collection but let’s just say the “finger puppet candle” has had a place in my home. As our discussions progressed it was noted that one of my favorite sayings (drop-line) had changed to “Gerald F.”. Probably because I had said it twenty times already and also they were tired of hearing it had no fucking clue where it came from. So I explained…

‘Well ya know how everyone says Jesus H. Christ?’
yeah
‘I was tired of dealing with the dirty looks and all the bullshit that the ‘thumpy peeps’ give plus you can’t just blurt out Jesus H. Christ in front of a bunch of kids so I needed something else to say. I was gonna go with ‘Buddy Christ’ but it doesn’t fix my problem, and frankly George Carlin giving a thumbs up isn’t the attitude I’m looking for… So I came up with ‘Gerald F.’! And to solve the kid-in-trouble action ‘Gerald F. McCracken.’

What??
‘Gerald F. McCraken’. I need a name with uh-thor-i-tie!

The looks of shock and awe were less shock and awesome… and more like – holy shit Sars, you have officially fallen off the deep end.

You haven’t fallen off the deep end and started a cult have you? Did you call Tom Cruise or Oprah Win-e-free and get approval from the MotherShip?? Is there poison in our beer?!?
‘No. I just needed a little word replacement therapy. Jesus H Christ gets a point across. And you know, runnin’ around sayin’ goddamnit all the time just “ain’t christian”.’
Peels of laughter and beer-spray… Um-Kay….
‘But it had to be something strong… with uh-thor-i-tie. ‘Gerald F. McCracken’

and a hush fell over the crowd…..

But then Zimm, my ever faithful beer chemist and friend said… so who are the rest?
‘what do you mean?’
Well you have ‘Gerald F. McCracken’ he’s kinda like “the son”, you know, it’s his title. So who are the rest in your little cult, sorry, group?

At that point I admit I hadn’t given it much thought but the idea was making me smile. I think we needed a Copola style ‘god father’ that would be his title. We started chatting, and it was all down hill from there… First was the decision that all names should start with the same letter.. and there should be three, (because you can’t have proper rock-paper-scissors tourney without three) but we couldn’t call it a trinity, (duh) and so the TriFecta of Gus was born.

‘With Gerald as “the son”, We needed “the father” and only the son has a middle initial. So I think Gus should be “the father”, I like Gus.. Let’s go with Gus. With Gus “the father” and Gerald F. McCracken, “the son”…’
Why Gus??

‘It’s a good name, and short. you know…’
But wait, who was Gerald’s mother?
‘the virgin Connie Swail of course’
mm-hhhmm, mm-hhmm, of course, duh.

Coming up with a third name was not nearly as easy, being mostly drunk didn’t help as much as you’d think. Gene didn’t sound ghostly and really, no one else could come up with any more in our thoroughly beered state, until I said…

‘What about Geoffrey, you know with a “G”? He could be all snooty and British sounding, Gee-off-ree’
What’s his title??
‘huh?’
I think he should be “the holy” Geoffrey. his title should be “the holy”
‘Sounds like a plan to me!!’

And thus it came to pass the TriFecta of Gus was born… Gus “the father”, Gerald F. McCracken ‘the son’ (born to the virgin Connie Swail), and “the holy” Geoffrey. It was glorious! We parted ways with a toast to Gus and felt as though all was right with the world. Maybe it was the 9% beers but I’m going with the holy Geoffrey.

About an hour later my cell rang… this never happens. It was Zimm and he had a question about our newly minted TriFecta that only Zimm & Grrr would come up with.

So Grr was wondering… is Gerald F. the Extra Crispy Saviour? Because you know, the original is already taken.
‘If Grr says it should be so, I’m gonna go with her instinct. I don’t think he’s “popcorn style”. So we revised… Gus “the father”, Gerald F. McCracken ‘the extra-crispy saviour’ (born to the virgin Connie Swail), and “the holy” Geoffrey.’

Great Gus I think I just peed….

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About Sars

I am the full time rider/conductor of the Bi-Polar Express (2.oh!) Welcome to my ride. Please keep hands and feet inside the pretty pink car at all times, for your safety of course. Rose colored glasses are not only encouraged, but required.
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