You’ve begged for it (no, you haven’t), you need it (like a hole in the head), you want it (about as much as you want VD), so here it is, let me introduce you to The Duckers.
(This is a work of non fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s recollection, or used in a sarcastic manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or married, or actual events is purely intentional)
As the website moves forward, evolves, becomes a force of nature so powerful small countries will cringe before it, you’ll see people referenced. Out of respect to them, their families, their careers, and law enforcement, they’ve been given nicknames. By day, they lead boring, dull lives, but by night, they put on their costumes and become more, they become boring middle aged men with nicknames!
In previous blogs, you’ve seen two Duckers referenced, The Dude, and Slim Mex. Here, you’ll get to know a little about them, along with five others. As far as sports tastes, they’re fans of a wide variety of teams, including the Lions, Browns, and Eagles. We’ve got Lakers fans, Cavs fans, and Heat cheerleaders (and I mean cheerleader, its a widely known fact that one member of the Duckers dresses up with pom poms and jumps around his living room while covering his entire body with the same oil that Pat Riley uses to slick his hair, its some really weird shit). Whiskey drinkers, Ciroc lovers, and Michelob Ultra fanatics are all included. So without further delay, let me get too it, so I can move on to a post people outside of insane asylums may actually be interested in.
A native Ohioan ( O! H! I! Owe a ton on my student loans still!), Ice enjoys long walks on the beach, reading poetry in coffee houses, and sipping crystal light on the porch while listening to his significant other tell him about her day.
The anointed business expert of the group, Ice can frequently be found commenting on news story postings on Facebook, inciting intense debate amongst absolute morons with nothing better to do. He also lives with his wife and young son, Chipped Ice. A fan of the Browns, Cavaliers, Indians, Buckeyes, and being belligerently drunk, we cannot take credit for Ice’s tastes.
It took us months to decide upon a nickname for JJ, and I know what you’re thinking, he MUST be a huge fan of JJ Watt. Well, while there is a decent amount of Wattage in the electric spark JJ feels when thinking of JJ Watt in his football pants, that’s not where the name came from. It actually was derived from his initials (And no, its not Jonas Jerekbo, he tried to join our clique, but we wouldn’t let him, he started to pitch his case, but we wouldn’t even let him Finnish).
JJ is a father of 3. A fan of the Seminoles, Buccaneers, and Miami Heat. Essentially a bunch of crappy things from Florida. He’s also a fan of giant damn mosquitoes, swamp land, swamp ass, Harry Potter world, solidifying my earlier statement.
SKI SKI SKI
Montana, primarily known as the state that harbored the uni-bomber also gave us Ski Ski Ski. Its really the gift that keeps on giving. A fan of the Eagles, and of whatever opinion can spark the most controversy during a heated argument, Ski is the little devil on your shoulder, except he’s wearing those angel wings while whispering in your ear.
The only one of us who does anything worth a damn by working with his hands, he really provides the power for the group, that certain electricity. With two kids already here, and another bun in the oven, his idea of an exciting Saturday night has gone from drinking all night at the newest club to playing a rousing game of Taboo, while drinking a responsible amount of beer at home, and god bless him cause I’m too old for that other shit. I mean, what the hell kind of guy our age is still out there hitting the clubs every weekend, what the duck?!
The artist formerly known as Big Mex, he has recently transformed himself into Slim Mex. The question on all your minds, how did he do it? Was it hard work, exercise and dieting? Was it elective surgery? Drugs? No, it was none of the above. He drank a venti coffee one day and went in and absolutely blew up a StarSucks bathroom, and in the process lost a small human’s worth of weight. (side note, DO NOT go into the bathroom at Starsucks on Main St. in Oklahoma City, its still under renovation, and has been deemed a bio hazard by the CDC).
By day he acts as an executive, by night he transforms into Bane, mask and all. A father of two, he enjoys spending his weekends sitting outside Home Depot listening to an endless loop of Despacito (its not even on an ipod or his phone, its just playing again, and again, and again in his head) while wishing he could grow a man-bun. All of which is a healthy alternative to actually watching his Lions play football on Sunday, cause who the hell wants to do that.
A father for all of 8 days now (SERIOUS ALERT, SKIP TO AFTER THIS BRACKETED PORTION OF THE WRITE UP FOR FURTHER TOM FOOLERY: Congrats to The Dude, The Dudette, and Little Dude no doubt you’ll be loving attentive parents), The Dude is very passionate about his little kitties and his opinions, even if most of them belong in the kitty litter box. Another member of the Ohio mafia (don’t worry, its not like the real mafia, this version just drinks Mich Ultras while arguing about who’s man cave is the most inviting to other men), he’s a Buckeye, Browns, Cavs, Braves fan (yeah, which one of these doesn’t belong). The DEA has him on a watch list, believing he’s responsible for trafficking half the world’s cocaine, when in fact its all just sugar from the vast amounts of powdered mini donuts he consumes.
He went for a drive in Hawaii once, and like a nut job who believes they were abducted by aliens, its the only thing he can talk about since then (though there is little to no doubt he was probed on the drive, hence the sparkle in his eyes when he recalls that night).
Once the member of two beings joined together (and no, not at the hip, but you’re at roughly the right height on the body) known as Eltwink, he has split, leaving behind just Twink. Twink will probably be contacting me to let me know of the various slander lay suits headed my way after posting this. He’s what the Beach Boys wished they could all be, a California girl. A UCLA grad who roots for the Lakers, and 49ers, he likes to dress up for Halloween wearing nothing but his “Trojan” outfit to scare the neighborhood kids. Not so coincidently he has to register whenever he moves as handing out candy in nothing but a condom is generally frowned upon.
Aside from the weird outfits, he’s a scratch golfer, husband, and father. Likely the most upstanding member of the Duckers, he’ll take that honor knowing the bar is set very very low (mostly because Ice is short, and we want him to be able to reach his drink when sitting at the bar, we’re not monsters).
You know the age old question, what came first the chicken or the egg? Well if you ever run into Gio ask him, as he pre-dates both. AS A MATTER OF FACT, I BETTER TYPE THIS NICE AND BIG SO UNCLE GIO CAN READ THIS IN BETWEEN TRIPS TO THE BATHROOM, DOWNING HIS METAMUCIL, AND GETTING READY FOR HIS MATLOCK MARATHON.
Another of the Ohio Mafia, he helped invent basketball when he was tutoring his young protégé Dr. James Naismith….. Oh, I’m sorry, that’s wrong, I meant that Uncle Gio helped invent baskets… like just baskets, roughly 10,000 to 12,000 years ago (or as Uncle Gio likes to call it, the good old days)
In a miracle of modern science, Uncle Gio has a young son, incredible considering this is a man who Keith Richards looks at and asks “how the duck is this guy still around?!” He’s also a Browns, Cavs, and Buckeyes fan, proving once again what god awful taste I have in friends.
Well, that’s it, that’s the Duckers. You may occasionally see references to this band of misfits and degenerates. Screen shots of text convos, adventures, and maybe eventually we’ll let them contribute to the content of You’re Ducking Right. Until then, this is just a brief glimpse into the abyss. Just remember, if you see one of these guys walking your way….. find the nearest cop, scream stranger danger, and tell the police that the weird guy in the Cavs hat offered you candy.
- Jason Sullivan
- Find me on Twitter @TopDucker