Whether you’re a banker from Boston, a farmer from Michigan, or in charge of your very own meth lab everyone gets to hit up the Oregon Trail and some of my favorite people from Teen Mom are no different. So sit back, relax, and take a bumpy journey in a covered wagon with a couple of busted axles, wonky oxen, and friendly Indians along the way. Taking the journey this time is none other than Debra, Butch, April, Amber, and Gary. I, IBBB, will be narrating. Gather around your nap mats, boys and girls, because it’s story time.
~ We’re slowly starting out our journey to Oregon, I believe. A fight is breaking out between April, Butch, and Amber over where exactly Oregon is. Amber thinks it’s in the mid-west, April believes it’s under Soviet control, and Butch just keeps yelling out “British Columbia” to which Gary responds, “That’s sneakers.” In between bong hits, Butch found some wild fruit in the middle of the road. After Darl reported this back to the troop, Gar immediately went on a Twinkie hunt. And what the hell is Debra looking at?
~ Oh snap yo (as Tyler would say) we was robbed in the middle of the night. Luckily they only stole 52 bullets (odd?) and the thief looked about the same size as Snooki. Debra is not having any of this and immediately pulled out her “carry-on” butcher knife to try and fight off the thief. I must admit I’m quite pleased that Debra is sticking with her power “interview suit” even on this journey. Note to self: Keep and eye on that butcher knife and, also, have a talk with April about smoking in the covered wagon.
~ Things are kind of quiet but I know that’s about to change. We’re down to no food, it’s very rainy, and Amber tried to lure away an ox so that she could “sexy-dance” the hell out of it in the woods. We lost two days because of this. Also, Gar is commenting on being nervous about getting down to his birth-weight before making it to Oregon. We all had a chuckle when Butch asked if that was 189 pounds. Note to self: Give Butch a lecture on systematic bullying.
~ Oh Jesus, April! Apparently chain-smoking never ending packs of Misty 120s and chugging down Twisted Tea’s isn’t too good for your health when you haven’t eaten in three days. April’s come down with a classic trail case of Dysentery. I’m a bit concerned that April has no clue that she has an illness, as when we told her what she had she responded, “Dysentery?! I loved that show in the 80’s!” This makes Butch a little sad as he realizes he missed an entire decade of television as he spent the 80’s in the slammer.
~ Finally the sun shines on our sad little covered wagon as Indians apparently helped us find some food. Gary is beside himself with excitement even though Amber beat the bag out of him (while constantly calling him “dude”) over eating all of the cheeseburgers. I begin to ponder how amazing it is that Amber can make Gary flinch with every fake-out-punch she give him and he never drops the cheeseburger. Not once.
~ Beating the absolute bag out of Gary must have taken a toll on Amber. I mean between the slapping, punching, and trying to kick him psychically out of the wagon…and then after Gary tried to crush Amber with the wagon door a couple of times (bonus points) she is sick too. We’ve pooled a lot of our money together to get Amber on a nice mix of uppers and downers so we can’t really help nurse her back to health with this most recent case of Cholera, so we just convinced the road-side doctor to insist that he meant to tell Amber she had Chola…eyebrows…which is pretty believable. We showed her by using Debra’s butcher knife as a mirror. The doctor informed Amber she’ll have to cool down her “sexy dancing” until her Chola eyebrows grow back in.
~ Sickness is running wild around this b*tch. Although, even though Gary is sick with Typhoid he still took the time to find a hole-in-the-wall flower shop where he could buy Amber some funeral flowers and balloons so he could apologize to her for him getting Typhoid. Amber told Gar that the Indians spelled all the words wrong on the card and then she told him to leave the flowers in the wagon and get the hell out. Note to self: Seriously, when is this bitch going to succumb to her Chola eyebrows disease?
~ After Gary prayed for sweet release, Jesus Claus answered his prayers and took him to heaven. Amber made sure to slap at his rotting corpse for hours on end while she cried her makeup all down her face. Debra, typically good in these situations, is asking Amber to stop crying and to get over the death as quickly as possible. I’m getting a bit worried about the rest of the gang as we’re in desperate need for food and will actually be able live off of “Gary’s share” now that he is resting in peace…and quiet, from Amber.
~ Well will you leave it to Debra! That crazy little minx is still following her court-ordered community service “project” and was simply picking trash up in the woods when a nice little deer walked by and she stabbed it to death with one of her many knives (that’s she’s apparently packed on this trip). Dinner! (Editors Note: This is my favorite scene, by the way).
~ Ugh! Our wagon broke down, again, and when all hope was lost and we didn’t know what to do, Farrah came wandering out of the woods with a brilliant idea of just buying a new wagon. Apparently if we cash this check she’s given us for $8,000 and then send her a money order for $3000, she knows someone who will ship us a new wagon. I guess she found this deal on the Internet. It’s Craigslist, after all, so no red flags are going up for us and we think this sounds completely safe and normal. We proceed with Farrah’s plan. Also, for some reason Debra keeps yelling out “Where is Goooooooo? Where is my baby Goooooo?” April just bottled her. Butch tried to dry-hump her passed out body.
~ Uh, something is fishy around here. Snarlin’ Darlin’ claims he found this abandon wagon with two sets of clothes and 21 bullets. Oh really? He just happened to find an abandon wagon? Yeah, no we read Butch’s rap-sheet so we’re pretty certain he robbed a police car, took the cops clothes (2 pair of clothes) and the bullets right from their guns.
~ Well what do ya know? April has come down with a case of Chola eyebrows too. Clearly nothing will slow down her love of Twisted Tea’s. When I confronted April about her drinking she just yelled at me that I can’t tell her how to be a mom when I couldn’t even be a mom myself. When I told her I was a man and had a ding-dong and couldn’t be a mom she just said, “F*ck you, b*tch, how ’bout that?” Ugh, I hate when April is going through meth withdrawals. It’s even worse, though, when Butch is in rehab and she goes through withdarlals. Hey-oh!
~ Well ain’t that a b*tch. April kicked the bucket. This is so shocking as she always lead such a healthy, easy, breezy, beautiful life. I made sure that when we buried her (threw her in the woods) that we dressed her in her best “I’m Not Short, I’m Fun Size” shirt and we gave her full bangs, as we all believe that Santa Christ would want it that way. As a sidenote, Darl is wasting no time hitting on Amber. Now that’s a fight I’d tune in to watch.
~ Within minutes of doing “nasty boom boom” with Amber, Butch caught himself a case of Dysentery. We all tried to warn Butch that it starts with “sexy-dancing” and next thing you know, BAM, you have a disease that you have no idea what it is. Note to self: Darl Lynn’s rat-tail looks like it’s about to fall off. That can’t be a good sign.
~ Well that took no time. Apparently I was on to something with that whole “rat tail” idea. Butch has died. What was so crazy was when Tyler’s mom, Kim, came running out of the woods and just yelled at his dead body, “Yeah b*tch! Suck my kiss!” We’re all wondering where she got that foam-finger from. We try to convince her to join the journey, but she’s low on home perm treatments and didn’t pack her good shoulder pads so she’s heading home. It’s a real day of loss for us all around.
~ Everyone is dropping like flies. Even after all of her illnesses, we learned that Amber officially “sexy-danced” her way to death. Rumor has it that all the flags in Lanford are flying at half-mast.
~ I tell ya, God bless Debra and that wonderful trash claw! Since it was her day of the week for community service she just picked up Amber and tossed her in a trash bag (fitting) next to Gary in his trash bag (not so fitting…literally).
~ Things are really awkward in the wagon right now between me and Debra. It was quiet for a while and then suddenly she busts out with “I know what you say about me on your blog. I’ve read it.” I didn’t know what to say but, “Get Typhoid and die!” It’s something we learned to say on “the trail.” I’m ashamed of myself.
~ It’s the day after my birthday and, well, I drank all the water so Debra is left with nothing but some of April’s old Twisted Tea’s that I convinced her were better than nothing to drink. She doesn’t really know that it wasn’t really alcohol in those bottles, but Butch’s piss instead. I mean, it’s not my fault, it’s hers. She was dumb enough to think that April would have ever left a drop of liquor not drunk around the wagon. Note to self: Debra’s pants-suit is starting to smell moldy. If she makes it through this I’m going to ask the Grinch or one of the other Who’s to get her some new clothes for Christmas.
~ Guess I can cancel that order to the Grinch. Debra kicked the bucket. The judge better not try to make me cover her community service. I’ll have to get in touch with Attorney John Jacob-Jingle-Heimer-Schmidt. It’s funny because his name is my name too.
~ In lieu of flowers, please pick up trash on the side of the highway wearing a reflective vest in Debra’s honor.
Note to self: I’m heading home. Who the hell wants to go to Oregon anyway!?
