Joey started it, so here goes my favorite Smorg tale.....
Originally Posted by Smorgass Bored
(*<~ It was on my way home from New Orleans two weeks ago ...... <insert flashback music here> I stopped at my brother's workplace and was talked into spending two days at Spring Break assisting the young girls in their wet T-shirt competitions and bikini contests. Man, I've still got it and so do they.
Anyway, it seems that brother lives ON THE BEACH (about 100' to the surf) of the Gulf of Mexico in a beautiful 3 bedroom home will ALL the amenities (I'd like to swap places with him- including significant other). He lives just east of Panama City in a little beach community called St. Joe Beach. There is a lace there (within crawling distance of the house) called "Regan's Pub & Oyster Bar" Est. Nov.14th 2000 157,920 Oyster's Shucked (when the t-shirt was printed). After a hard day of rubbing up against nubile young things in Panama City we ended up at Regan's depleting their oyster stock and keeping the 'shucker' employed. The bar area had a 4x8 pooltable and the proximity to the beach and the breeze had it in the lower 50?. I had on my Planet 9-Ball jacket with the BIG logo of a planet that looks like a 9-ball (duh). All the locals wanted to challenge my brother and I to some partners 8-ball and we obliged. We won every game for hours, no matter what rules they made up along the way. We stopped to take a break and eat MORE oysters and one of the players asked me what I 'did' in Tampa. I told him that I was a professional pool player (my brother almost blew an oyster out of his nose). This fellow named Jim-Bob wanted to play me heads up. I told him that I'd play, but I wouldn't play cheap. He told me that he didn't care WHAT we played for as he racked the balls and I prepared to break. I'd told him that I was called Tampa Tubby and as I smashed the balls I exclaimed that I was playing him for his 'Bob'. At first, he thought that I was kidding, but as it dawned on him that I was serious he became VERY nervous. All activity stopped in the building as EVERYONE came to sweat this game. The most erious game to ever take place in St. Joe Beach,Fl. I got down to the eightball and Jim-Bob said that I had to 'bank it' AND we were also playing last pocket 8-ball. I'd made my last ball in the side pocket and was in trouble with the way his balls were laying on the table. When I asked if I could play the eight off of one of his balls and he said yes, I kicked the eight from near the end rail and off his ball into 'my' side pocket. GAME OVER. I'd won 'the Bob'. Everyone laughed and cheered while now calling me "Tampa Tubby-Bob".
At the same time,everyone now called Jim-Bob simply JIM. Jim was devasted. It was sinking in that he had lost his 'Bob' and he didn't like it one little bit. People were now calling him 'Bobless' and his boss (who was present) threatened to fire him and make him 'Jobless Bobless'. He's been 'Bobbited'. He wanted a re-match. I said NO. I told him that I would return in exactly one year and play him ONE GAME and an opportunity to win his 'Bob' back.
I've spoken to my brother a few times since I've left St. Joe Beach and he assures me NOONE has called him Jim-Bob since he lost and that the word has spread up & down the beach. They're planning a big 'special day' for next year and my return. I'm thinking about breaking out my sling,walker, eye-patch, etc. to make it REALLY exciting. I know that I dance to beat of a different drum (at least I didn't insist that he throw in a moon pie), but everyone seems to like it (so far). I didn't get a BOP on the nose. Life is good. Does it get any better than this ?
Tampa Tubby-Bob
Originally Posted by Smorgass Bored
(*<~ It was on my way home from New Orleans two weeks ago ...... <insert flashback music here> I stopped at my brother's workplace and was talked into spending two days at Spring Break assisting the young girls in their wet T-shirt competitions and bikini contests. Man, I've still got it and so do they.
Anyway, it seems that brother lives ON THE BEACH (about 100' to the surf) of the Gulf of Mexico in a beautiful 3 bedroom home will ALL the amenities (I'd like to swap places with him- including significant other). He lives just east of Panama City in a little beach community called St. Joe Beach. There is a lace there (within crawling distance of the house) called "Regan's Pub & Oyster Bar" Est. Nov.14th 2000 157,920 Oyster's Shucked (when the t-shirt was printed). After a hard day of rubbing up against nubile young things in Panama City we ended up at Regan's depleting their oyster stock and keeping the 'shucker' employed. The bar area had a 4x8 pooltable and the proximity to the beach and the breeze had it in the lower 50?. I had on my Planet 9-Ball jacket with the BIG logo of a planet that looks like a 9-ball (duh). All the locals wanted to challenge my brother and I to some partners 8-ball and we obliged. We won every game for hours, no matter what rules they made up along the way. We stopped to take a break and eat MORE oysters and one of the players asked me what I 'did' in Tampa. I told him that I was a professional pool player (my brother almost blew an oyster out of his nose). This fellow named Jim-Bob wanted to play me heads up. I told him that I'd play, but I wouldn't play cheap. He told me that he didn't care WHAT we played for as he racked the balls and I prepared to break. I'd told him that I was called Tampa Tubby and as I smashed the balls I exclaimed that I was playing him for his 'Bob'. At first, he thought that I was kidding, but as it dawned on him that I was serious he became VERY nervous. All activity stopped in the building as EVERYONE came to sweat this game. The most erious game to ever take place in St. Joe Beach,Fl. I got down to the eightball and Jim-Bob said that I had to 'bank it' AND we were also playing last pocket 8-ball. I'd made my last ball in the side pocket and was in trouble with the way his balls were laying on the table. When I asked if I could play the eight off of one of his balls and he said yes, I kicked the eight from near the end rail and off his ball into 'my' side pocket. GAME OVER. I'd won 'the Bob'. Everyone laughed and cheered while now calling me "Tampa Tubby-Bob".
At the same time,everyone now called Jim-Bob simply JIM. Jim was devasted. It was sinking in that he had lost his 'Bob' and he didn't like it one little bit. People were now calling him 'Bobless' and his boss (who was present) threatened to fire him and make him 'Jobless Bobless'. He's been 'Bobbited'. He wanted a re-match. I said NO. I told him that I would return in exactly one year and play him ONE GAME and an opportunity to win his 'Bob' back.
I've spoken to my brother a few times since I've left St. Joe Beach and he assures me NOONE has called him Jim-Bob since he lost and that the word has spread up & down the beach. They're planning a big 'special day' for next year and my return. I'm thinking about breaking out my sling,walker, eye-patch, etc. to make it REALLY exciting. I know that I dance to beat of a different drum (at least I didn't insist that he throw in a moon pie), but everyone seems to like it (so far). I didn't get a BOP on the nose. Life is good. Does it get any better than this ?
Tampa Tubby-Bob
