Trail(R-Nation) of tears – The celebration of the life and death of a hero who finally gave a shit!

WOW! I wish I could’ve been there for this moment.










This is a photo  taken earlier this year.  That giant “thing” is called ” The “Good Beer” blimp.  This shot was artistically captured by “Naked Pitch’rs of My Sister” photo studio as the blimp flew over The Outhouse Moon trailer Park  during the annual parade of the “Festival of Sewage” celebration and BBQ.  Look at those happy trailer park residents as they graciously accept the gift of free 40 ouncers floating down from that benevolent beer bellied buddha!   From what I read in Trailr Trinkut magazine this is an event of the utmost importance to those of the trailer culture.



Urban legend has it the festival and BBQ parade is based on tragic real-life events involving a man who became a hero one day –  and is still spoken of  in reverence by all the citizens of the trailer tribes across America.  It goes like this:

Back in the early 1960s, a new law took effect that required trailer park residents to change their outhouse dumping habits and prohibited dumping their dumps in the old overfilled septic tanks.  At the first of the year residents were legally bound to bag and tag each crap they took and label it as HAZMAT – poop which could only be contained in a certified HAZMAT container and dropped off at approved HAZMAT locations. Each resident had to their own container, and there were fees for the feces due and payable for each deposit to a HAZMAT poo bank – drop offs to be done a minimum of 3 times per week by each person. If a resident didn’t follow the “anti-septic” law to a “t” the consequences landed them in deep shit…

Now this was ominous news to the trailer tribes across the nation. Taking a shit now cost $10 per plop – and most residents crapped a minimum of 5 x per day – given the diet of beer mixed with jalepenos native to their species and all.  And the trailer clan has always lived by their own rules and never appreciated being told what to do by anyone. Above all – they’re infamous for their open HATRED of having to spend money on things they don’t consider a priority –  like child support.  To the trailer park residents, spending hard cold and stolen cash on stupid shit like SHIT was just plain shit stupid.

NOTE: It just has to be said. Regardless of their “stupid shit” argument the TrailRNation – from their ancestors on down to present – have forever spent whatever money they managed to capture on STUPID SHIT –  which manifests itself as chachki proudly displayed in front yards of the each trailer home.) Witness Exhibit A:


Anyway – this new law pissed them off bad, and I could see their point… in a way. If a resident has to pay $10 a dump AND  he or she has a family with his sister, mama, whoever – AND  he can’t keep his hands off his nieces, aunt, grandma etc – well the fees just snowball. He could easily have an extended family of 23 children within 5 years.  Even if he had the trailer park family MINIMUM of 15 young’uns in the brood – the total is pricey even now.  Think of what the loss of $10 a poop pop was in the 60s! (150 per 15 crappy children! yeow….)

Within 5 months, the new “bag and tag your doody” AKA the “anti-septic”  law was already taking its toll on the trailer people. Across the nation’s trailer parks, the rapidly piling fecal fines irritated the piles and more of every resident who lived and shit – especially those with big families. Whispered concerns were exchanged late at night between brother and sister  and other couples, (after the young’ns was asleep) as they wondered how much longer they were expected to pay per poop. At this rate they’d have to start eating each other for lack of funds by the weekend. A whole race and culture had been threatened with existence by this horrid law.  


But what choices did they have? There was  no way the people could prevent having to shit, and immodium hadn’t been invented yet. Though foolish enough to ignore the law and keep dumping their doody in the old septic tank or worse, tried to hide it by burying, were caught by the the Pooplice within the hour – and the poop perps were sent immediately to the pokey (and the male perps found out firsthand WHY it was called the pokey).   


It was useless to try to downsize and save money by abandoning your brood of kids by taking them “shopping” to whatever store passed for a Wal*Mart back then. It used to work fine for budget conscietious trailer couples with too much on their plates.  As soon as the last child disappeared through the door of  the discount store, the parent rushed home,  pack up the belongings in the  trailer and push that sucker for 15 or 20 feet until its flat tires just crossed the state line of the neighboring terriorty – and voila! – they were childless  again! But this practice failed badly for a couple of reasons. First, the pseudo  “shopping trip” was a fail when the kids got older and started to catch on that they were never given any money on these “shopping trips”, and they became bored within minutes of arriving and start looking for their parents – who had said they’d be back in an hour to get them.   NOTE: The ancient art of the “drop and leave” is still evident in the way many of the modern mobiles and trailers are often set up 15 to 25 feet away from the official state line of whatever neighboring state they’re backed up to)

And second, it never failed – no matter WHICH direction their parents had pushed the mobile out of sight – those damned kids always managed to find their way home from a store miles away, and find the trailer wherever it was parked by 11 pm that same night. In the morning they’d scare their parents half to death when they’d show up to the breakfast table like nothing had happened the day before, and ask for food because they were all so hungry. 

So with the odds stacked against the parents – no money, no food, but tons of young’ns – they were sure nothing could be done.


Enter Boofer Klompus. Boofer was a rebel red-neck and a trailer park rogue from birth.  He was kinda like a trailer trash Jesse James, he hated beaurocratic injustice in any form  – and he was NOT going to pay for self-containing and depositing his own shit for NO ONE! He  didn’t give a SHIT about any rules. 

Boofer was cranky because he had been constipated for 10 years. From the age of 7 his diet consisted of nothing but  a case of beer a day and 3 pounds of cheese. His father worked at a dairyfarm and got cheese for free. Boofer ate it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He ate so much of the crap that by the time he was 8 he was unable to take one for the next decade. By the time he was 17 years old he was 300 pounds and drunk all the time. Naturally since he couldn’t crap, he was one big volatile  shit. 


Now Boofer got in a really shitty mood when he heard about the woes of his TrailRNations brothers and sisters (no pun really).  Already an angry person, the only thing that sent him completely over the edge was the beauracratic bullshit foisted upon the citizens of this great nation by the fence-sitting, lying CHEESE MAKING government – the same one  that Boofer blamed for getting him all bound up in the first place by enouraging the dairyfarms to make all that surplus cheese. 

Now  the shit-fee was the one thing Boofer didn’t have to worry about (due to his little …problem.), and for that reason, he was a well-off constipated drunken fatman by anyone’s trailer standards. AND he had a TON of cheese because Daddy got half his pay from the dairyfarm in mozzarella sticks, cheddar balls and munster slices.  So Boofer called a national TrailRnation meeting and held it at The Outhouse Moon trailer park. He told the residents who could be there about his plan to keep everyone fed and out of the poor house – by way of cheese…

Boofer thought this plan would work – If he could get bound up by cheese –  so could 1000 starving trailer park residents – easy. And because they were hungry and most of em had young’uns that had found em AGAIN and wanted to eat AGAIN, the park residents were thrilled that they’d all be getting to eat a  few meals that didn’t cost them in the END (sorry). There rest of the story went down like this:


Boofer set up his camp at the trailer park. All the residents and children of the TrailRNation who could be there, showed up. Everyone there ate cheese till they were as full and expanding as Boofer. Then Boofer called the Poop Police and told them that the trailrnation wasn’t gonna take their crap any longer. No more money would be paid to their shitty poop tax – no more unfair judgements against the TrailRNation would b tolerated. 

And then Boofer lit a gasoline fire and waited for the Poop Patrol to show – which they did in 15 minutes of the call. Well you can imagine how mad the Poop Cops were to find a bunch of bloated trailer residents who could barely move, sitting dully, surrounded by cheese wrappers of every kind – and not one piece of poop to found for miles! You’d think those crap heads would’ve given up and headed out to a donut shop somewhere, leaving the poor boundup people to feast on cheese – they’d had enough of shit to last a lifetime. 

But they didn’t.  They waited instead for three days for someone to poop. But no one did. Oh sure – the people all drank beer and pissed up a storm – even the young’uns –  but not one drop of feces could be found by Investigator Skidmark. And Boofer kept that gasoline fire going for 3 days, adding more and more gas to the flames as the time wore on.  The Hershey Highway Pooptrol waited it out, but the people continued to eat cheese and piss beer. Then the tragedy happened…


Now Boofer had never been sick a day in his life with anything due to all that good cheesy bacteria rolling around in his guts – but that day he caught some kind of stomach disorder. It started off with cramps that soon had poor Boofer doubled over his double chin in pain. Unfortunately, he was standing with his ass end bent over the gas flame fire …. when it happened. Boofer’s bowels made a sound that day for the first time in a decade. RRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPP….pffffst… Boofer let the rankest, foulest GAS permeated fart anyone had ever born witness to – right next to the gasoline fire that had just been replenished with a tank of the best unleaded…..BOOOOOOM!  Boofer blew up 20 seconds after his gas met the BBQ’s gas and he instantly combusted – his parts and poop flying everywhere.  The trailer people ran – covering their heads with cheese wrappers to avoid being pummelled by pieces of decades old fecal material and what was left of Boofer.


Well the Security Pootrol was SO traumatized by what they’d witnessed that they ran off and never bothered the trailer park residents again. In one day Congress had the septic tank law negated, and the trailer residents were free once more to eat, drink and poop without the legal shackles of shitty taxation to bind them up.

And the TrailRNation has been shitting everywhere and on everyone, ever since.  So there you have the story.behind the balloon and parade.








Craigslist Trailer Wheel, Sacramento – Job listing



A person who understands the value of meth, and finds it a POSITIVE quality in the applicant he’s seeking to work in tandem with his OCD!  I bet he gets 1000 applicants showing up on his doorstep to apply for this job!