The Blue Ox

 




The Blue Ox had shoes the size of fucking swimming pools. The goddam thing had five or six different men that would spot and make sure he wasn’t starting any fires.

And what made it particularly alarming was that he was the city commissioner and, as his name implies, he was a bovine.

Fucking thing would sit in front of Jerry’s for hours on end, cleaning out the poor guy’s ice chest beer by beer. Nothing much happened back then so he basically just got paid to wear a tie and shave every day and drink all Jerry’s beer.

So, one day, Jerry gets this idea that he’d rig up the rocking chair so when the Blue Ox sat in it he would be electrocuted in such a way that his entire body would be cooked medium well and ready to eat after carving.

Thing was, the Blue Ox’s ass had gotten so big that he’d taken to carrying around his wide seat chair without the arm rests everywhere he went. So the electric rocking chair was a bust.

So, Jerry, disoriented by the fact that he was foiled, took the Blue Ox out for manhattans and calamari and rented a room at the Bel-Air motel and Jerry and the Blue Ox took a shower together and fell asleep in eachothers’ arms.

The Blue Ox was really good at making people want to get him drunk and sleep with him. That’s why he had so may nice shirts. Think about it. Do you think he picked out those shirts himself?