I Found Jimmy Hoffa
I’m Not a Hero, I’m Just a Guy With a Metal Detector
Now, I’m a man who is easily amused. I like sipping bud light and watching the sunset. And sometimes, I like to grab my metal detector and walk around trying to find cool little knickknacks. Yesterday, I found former union head and mafia target Jimmy Hoffa. I totally woulda rather found a cool coin.
I got one of those little beepers on my metal detector and I started digging like I do. I dug until I hit something just like normal. The issue this time was that from under all that sand I heard a little “ow” and that don’t usually happen. I brushed some of the sand away and saw a cool ring. It looked very familiar, I had definitely seen it before. Then I realized where I seen it from. It was Jimmy Hoffa’s iconic pinky ring.
I brushed away a little more of that sand until I saw a hand attached to the ring. I kept brushing until I had revealed one genuine Jimmy Hoffa. I helped dust him off and invited him to my place for a bud light and a sunset viewing.
When we got back to my place, he told me all about how he ended up under all that sand. Turns out, there was no mafia hit. Jimmy just took a little nap on the beach to clear his head and when he woke up, he was under a bunch of sand. I told him he’s been declared legally deceased since 1982 and he didn’t take too kindly to that.
We got in my truck and drove straight from my place to the local courthouse to get Jimmy declared legally alive again which probably wasn’t too smart of an idea after 3 bud lights.
We got pulled over and when the officer got to our window he saw Hoffa and recognized him for 2 unpaid parking tickets from 1970. The cop took Hoffa off to the slammer where I assume he’ll remain until he can pay off about a million dollars of interest on them parking tickets.
My husband biked to the side of the road where I sat watching my new friend get taken away. He drove us both home and we had a real nice bud light and sunset viewing together. I called the jail and they told me I could go visit Jimmy on sundays, so I think I’ll do just that. Might even bring the poor bastard a couple packs of smokes so he can get himself a razor or two.
