Thursday, February 20, 2014

Backroads Hometown Gazette: Dead of Winter Edition

The Backroads Hometown Gazette
Published by Val Thevictorian any time the mood strikes her.



A local Backwoods woman soiled her pants yesterday. She did not notice the filth caked upon her slacks until 30 minutes after she had arrived home.

Refreshed by a brief rest in her husband's La-Z-Boy to recharge her batteries, Mrs. Val Thevictorian went to slingshot herself out of that comfy catapult, and felt something amiss. Something she could not quite put her finger on. Then she did. Put her finger on it, that is. The left shin area of her navy blue slacks was smeared with a swath of chunky tan mud, dried to the consistency of a fresh churro or a mud dauber nest.

"Where in the world did THAT come from?" Mrs. Thevictorian asked rhetorically. Her husband, not understanding the nuances of rhetoric, grunted as if he had a clue. "I declare! I certainly hope I did not have that on my pants all day! My principal showed up for my teacher observation this morning. What if I was gallivanting around the classroom with this...this...stain upon my shinbone? Nobody said anything to me about it. I certainly hope I was not the laughingstock of the lunch table after I left early to use the facilities. What if they thought it was...poo? And that I was leaving to clean myself up? Oh, this is tragic. What if somebody spouts out a name like Vally the Poo! I shall never live it down. I might as well tender my resignation forthwith. Kids, and colleagues in the cafeteria, can be so cruel. Woe is me!"

Mrs. Thevictorian then cut her eyes to this reporter's recording device, and asked, "Is that good? Are we done now?" Such a flair for the dramatic was exhibited that readers should keep an eye peeled for future performances of our local Meryl Streep at the community college little theater.



Mr. Hick Thevictorian found himself catapulted into the headlines yesterday when he discovered a new element on his front porch. Discovering a new element was the farthest thing from Mr. Thevictorian's mind when he awakened that fateful morning. All he expected was to start his day with a sausage egg biscuit and banana, commute to work, apply his nose to the grindstone, commute home, have some quality time with his goats and chickens, enjoy an evening repast of Auction Meat prepared less-than-appetizingly by his harpy fishwife, and tumble into bed, one day closer to his demise.

Quality goat-time spent, Mr. Thevictorian entered by the back door. "I was just coming from the goat pen, and I saw a box on our front porch. I guess I'll go see what it is." He clomped past his insignificant other, clods of mud falling from sole to floor. He returned with a large flat box. Mr. Thevictorian knew better than to shove it in Mrs. Thevictorian's face and expect her to take it off his hands. They'd had a discussion of that matter only the day before. (check out the link to the Police Report)

"Your element is here!"

"Well, put it somewhere! You can't put it in tonight. I'm cookin' right now, and it's too hot to touch. Wait until the weekend."

Neighbors heard the discussion and called the local news. Mr. Thevictorian was on the 6:00 and 10:00 p.m. broadcasts. He is currently waiting for a delicious meal to be warmed in the old oven by his ancient wife and her new element.



Longtime Backroads resident Tillie Tendollardaughermom will be joining the talk show circuit this spring to promote a new health fad. Forever kicking herself in her own "bottom" for missing the boat when the Dannon Yogurt bandwagon sailed, Tillie vowed to share her magical edible with the masses, come ice or high snowbanks. You can catch Tillie's first interview on the Channel 11 News at 4:00 a.m. Sunday.

Tillie promotes Walmart coleslaw, and in return receives one free pint per week. Says Tillie: "Yum, yum, get ya some!" She is looking forward to her tour. Her best gray sweatpants with the stitched-up hole in the knee have already been packed and placed in the back seat of her Blazer. Tillie will be heading for the city in the early morning hours on Saturday. As long as she can get her car out of the driveway.



A hopeful Backroads Pony is counting the days until he finds out if he made the cut for a summer scholar program. In order to prepare, he has been simulating situations he might encounter there. Sunday evening, his mother called to him concerning supper: "Pony! Are you eating baked rotini with us?"

The Pony galloped to the kitchen and stamped his hooves with anticipation. He headed off to his feeding area with a helping that would make Takeru Kobayashi feel bloated. As he pranced away from the stove, The Pony was heard to exclaim, "I might as well start getting used to eating food I don't like."

His mother, chief oven-warmer and microwave-heater, could not be reached for comment.


  1. The comment from The Pony was hilarious.

    And if his mother COULD have been reached for a comment, I wonder how colorful it might have been...

  2. Inquiring minds want to know, was the brown crud mud?

  3. I am with Linda, I want to know, too! The Pony is right, when he leaves home, he will be subject to food he doesn't like. He will appreciate you and miss you.

  4. The brown could have been in worse places. I hope the discovered element is added to the processing of Food the Pony Doesn't Like this very weekend. That is if the Chief Oven Warmer doesn't choke him first.

  5. Sioux,
    I did not earn my name of "The Short-Temper Cook" by spouting rainbows each time I open my mouth to a food critic. I'm sure you mean a different kind of colorful.

    Yes, it was mud. I think it came from T-Hoe's running board as I leaned in to grasp my 44 oz. Diet Coke after slogging up the once-gravel road on the way home. The mud on the running board in the morning was dry as I grabbed my stuff before heading into school.

    The Pony appreciates me now. He just doesn't have a filter. SO like his father.

    I'll probably burn the house down with TWO working elements!