The Republicans ought to advertise how many new jobs have been created under President Bush in the metal-stealing and platinum-mining businesses alone, Slemp says.
Under Bush, a man's creek bank is not safe from young people stealing rusty car bodies, Slemp says, and the price of rust must have gone sky high. Maybe rich people in New York had speculated in the rust futures market. All he knows, he says, is what he has always known: Creeks reclaim their old way sooner or later, car bodies or no.
Platinum mining is the hot new post-coal job. Apparently there is a thing with platinum in it on the underside of a car. Slemp learned that platinum is worth more than gold during the administration of Bob Seger.
In Slemp country, these platinum-bearing auto parts are called Cadillac converters, and to mine them, all you need is a battery-operated reciprocating saw. Pick a car with high top, one that looks like somebody cannot afford it and is likely to go back to the dealer anyway. Then, under the car, you saw twice from solid and haul out mineral to sell to the same guy who bought the rusty car bodies.
Now this does mean that the car without its mineral will not run anymore, but hey, what is more important here, running or mineral?
An understanding grand jury returned a "no true bill" against Slemp and Tie Rod for a little incident that occurred when a fellow stopped in the road and, hollering, asked if they wanted to go cornholing and they sort of buckshot his Silverado.
All of the grand jurors who didn't know cornholing has replaced a perfectly good phrase for something else said they would have shot him, too.
Because Tie Rod swore he shot and Slemp swore just as hard that no, it was him who shot, the rest of the grand jury never could figure out which one to indict or turn loose, and to be safe, turned them both loose. The victim waived restitution after he realized that a bunch of buckshot holes in a truck looks pretty cool, even on a Chevrolet.
But the judge ordered Tie Rod and Slemp to go to a football game and find out what cornholing really is and to pursue a rumor that people really were playing some football in Lexington.
The duo got to drinking in the parking lot, and pretty soon, they were playing a version they called toilet holing. Slemp would hold open the door to a Porta-Potty, and Tie Rod would take a three-step drop, fake a handoff, roll left to get behind his line and spiral off a long-neck bottle toward the purpose section of the pot.
Tie Rod and Slemp had no trouble telling which were the Eastern Kentucky people in the parking lot at the ball game. They were playing Ralph Stanley tapes, and the women had big hair. They mainly had their cars up on blocks or their blue-socked feet sticking out from under a tall vehicle with some sort of window sticker favoring extraction, and On On U of K playing loud enough so that you can't hear a saw.
Blue, too, was the brattice cloth the Eastern Kentuckians used for a tent or table cover to set the chicken and dumplings and the half runners on.
Inside the stadium, after having seen enough cornholing, Tie Rod and Slemp first got in trouble trying to help. They noticed that the wrong words to My Old Kentucky Home were being flashed on the screen and started yelling the real ones as a favor to the stadium crowd, which was being misled into changing the words to the prettiest song ever written.
The boys were set upon and beaten by a gang of liberals wearing Obama-Biden buttons.