Sunday, January 15, 2006

The Girl in the Shed

A while ago, the residents of the City of Fresno, California did something quite remarkable. They built a tiny shed on the outskirts of town, stuck an Irish girl in it, and then just started blaming everything on her.

It was actually a rather incredible innovation. Unsolved crime dropped 100% practically overnight. Mothers stopped yelling at children for tracking mud through the living room. Husbands stopped yelling at wives for putting new scratches in car doors. And nobody ever got in trouble for being late to work.

"Johnson, it's eleven-thirty!!! We had a conference call scheduled for nine--do you have any idea how pissed the client is?!!!"

"Sorry Sir, but when I went to my car this morning, uh, my steering wheel was gone. I had to walk all the way to Bob's Auto Parts for a new one--set me back, like, three hundred bucks or something too."

"Oh jeez Johnson, that's rough. Bet you that Irish girl in the shed took it."

"Gosh Sir, you think?"

"Yeah, she got Rodriguez's also, and last week hit Taylor, Brown and Gunderson. Someone really oughta do something about that damn Irish girl in the shed. Come on, I'll buy you lunch."

And so it went. Across all of Fresno, life's brutal rhythms faded and gave way to tranquility. People even started blaming things they were witnessed doing on the Irish girl in the shed. That was soon followed by male pattern baldness, obesity, impotence and the flu. Best day of the butcher's life was when he realized he could probably blame salmonella on the Irish girl in the shed.

And the citizens couldn't have been happier. But then one fateful night in August, Phillip Haverstromsky, the star quarterback for Fresno High, went up to the shed on a dare, peeked in through the tiny window and was instantly smitten. Phillip promptly demanded the Irish girl's release, claimed he was in love with her.

At first everyone thought he was just using that as his excuse for cheating on his girlfriend with the entire cheerleading squad a month before.
"Oh honey." His girlfriend cried. "I know that wretched Irish girl in the shed retroactively tricked you into sleeping with the entire cheerleading squad last month. It's okay, of course I forgive you. Someone should do something about that damn Irish girl in the shed."

But Phillip wouldn't be dissuaded, he actually had fallen very much in love with the Irish girl in the shed.

"Listen!" Phillip Haverstromsky yelled as jogged backwards to top of the courthouse steps. "I slept with the entire cheerleading squad because I was really, really horny!"

No one could believe what he was doing. They screamed out for him to stop, that it wasn't too late--he could still blame everything on the Irish girl in the shed. But Phillip was having none of it. He went on to confess to cheating on geometry tests, a half-dozen vandalisms and robbing the till at his after-school job.

When he started listing other people's transgressions that had been previously blamed on the Irish girl in the shed, they knew he had to be stopped. So they beat him to death with bats and chains and blamed it on the Irish girl in the shed. Then they all went back to being innocent and happy and never spoke of it again.

There are some who say that Irish girl is there to this day--sitting in the dirt, dreaming about the face in the window. Others claim there never was a girl in that shed at all, just a cardboard cutout of Daniel Day-Lewis in drag.

One thing's for sure though: If you find yourself shortchanged in Fresno, or feel your pocket picked and see the Chief of Police tossing your wallet in his car, consider that money well spent and get the hell out of town. Push it and you're liable to find yourself killed and your murder blamed on the Irish girl in the shed.

(p.s. If you liked this wonderful and true story, then thank you very much and you should probably, like, email me lots of money or something. If you didn't like it... well, then that goddamn Irish girl in the shed stole my weblog password and was the one who actually posted it.)


At 1:09 AM, Blogger greta said...

Wonderful sir. The cheque is in the mail (along with a nice selection of Belgian chocolates, a Pauley Shore DVD box set, two helium balloons and the Stoke-On-Trent Community Choir singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow")

At 4:01 AM, Blogger hen said...

I was going to read this post but some damn Irish girl kept covering my eyes. Someone should do something about her!

At 4:32 AM, Blogger Peter said...

Ya gotta pity those Irish Girls Latigo, they sure get blamed for a lot of things, it started out so warm and fuzzy when the Frezno residents built her that shed too.

At 6:32 AM, Blogger slarrow said...

Watch out for that Irish girl, Latigo. She's probably got red hair. And a six-shooter. And lots of time to practice.

At 8:20 AM, Blogger Francis Marion Tarwater said...

I'm in love with the Irish girl in the shed.

At 9:25 AM, Anonymous Saul said...

there's something nasty in the woodshed...

do you accept stamps?

At 12:38 PM, Blogger Anonymous Shannon said...


Let me out of this shed right now, damn it!

At 1:21 PM, Blogger Teaspoon said...

See I knew this story before I went into Fresno, so when the police chief took my wallet, I grabed his gun straight from his holster, quicker then a mongoose blinks, and beat him to a bloody pulp. Then I blamed the Irish girl in the shed. He was in the hospital but forgave me and didn't press charges.

At 2:21 PM, Blogger Gareth said...

I knew it! This explains so much about my life. It was that damn Irish girl in the shed all the time... I've got to tell my wife.

At 2:26 PM, Blogger OldHorsetailSnake said...

I bet that Irish girl is getting a little long in the tooth about now. I mean, hell, she might be as old as, say, Donald Trump. Must be about as rich, too, given all the embezzling she's been accused of.

(If you need money, get it from the Irish girl.)

At 3:01 PM, Blogger Lightning Bug's Butt said...

Just wondering, Latigo, but uh... does that shed have any holes in the wall? You know, something that would allow a small tube to pass through?

At 7:30 PM, Blogger Ari said...

I bet she's got flame red hair, hateful eyes, and is good at gutshootin'.

At 7:31 PM, Blogger Ari said...

I didn't read slarrow's first, I swear.

At 9:22 PM, Blogger Berlinbound said...

Brilliant ... again.

At 12:38 AM, Blogger Latigo Flint said...

Cor Greta, you know me so well. (But one of them had better be Bio-Dome!)

Very nicely done Hen!!! (And you know as it turns out, I was about to compose the finest answer to a comment in the history of the internet but when I reached for my thesaurus that damn Irish girl in the shed broke my fingers with a hammer. Someone really needs to do something about her!)

Oh I know Peter--things turn cruel so quickly it's a wonder we even decide to leave the house at all.

Oh Slarrow, you remembered. God how I twitch and shudder every night. I'm breaking Slarrow, and my dreams are the cause.

Hmm Solace Layfield...even though there's a decent chance she's actually just a cardboard cutout of Daniel Day-Lewis in drag? (I guess I can't blame you though, huh?)

Saul, drain the well. There's a neighbor missing. (And I'd prefer cash.)

Oh Shannon, I'd forgotten you're in a very Blarney way. I'm so sorry for what Fresno did. I'd go to the authorities for what Fresno did to you... but they'd just blame it on you, you know.

That's turnin' their shit right back on 'em TSP!!! I'm very proud of you right now.

Good plan Gareth--I'm sure she'll understand. (Take her to Fresno if she doesn't.)

But Old Hoss, the Irish girl in the shed may be nothing more than a myth... or a cardboard cutout of Daniel Day-Lewis in drag--not much cash either way.

Hmm, how small a tube LBB?

A thousand nights and counting Ari. (And I know you didn't--I'm honored you remember my nightmares.)

Yeah Berlinbound, those Fresnoeans are a pretty shrewd bunch, deceptively so.


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