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Bill Engvall Checks In

July 29, 2009

Hello everyone. I’m comedian Bill Engvall. You may have heard me perform comedy on one of my multiplatinum comedy albums such as Here’s Your Sign or 15 Degrees Off Cool.  Or you may watch my hit TBS sitcom, The Bill Engvall Show.  When I’m not on stage bringing laughter to the blue collar, working class folk that make up America’s Heartland, I have a number of hobbies I enjoy partaking in. My two favorites? Swinging and geology. That’s what I’m here to talk to you about today: the study of the liquid and solid matter that formulates the composition of Earth, and swapping wives with buddies of mine.

It all started when I took an Intro to Geology class my freshman year of college. My illustrious professor was so expressive, he made the words porphyritic ryholite sound like Shakespeare. He gave me literature to read, which I processed as fast as I could. When other guys were out chasing tail and drinking on the weekends, I was out taking a geological survey on seismic activity. Sure, I was starting out with stand up (amazingly, even back then I had the same dimwitted jokes about what it is like to be a married, middle-aged, white blue collar father and husband although I was 18 and single at the time). But I wanted to be a geologist. My professor told me that one day I would be the “Indiana Jones of geologists!” Even my father said, “Being a geologist would definitely be more lucrative than making pedestrian comedy easily digestible for the masses!”

I ate, slept, and breathed geology. I would examine stray rocks for hours at a time. I’d go to planetariums and loudly snicker derisively at the pseudo-science that is astronomy. If someone woke me abruptly in the morning, I would leap out of bed and yell, “Igneous!” I even had a t-shirt that had the words MOLTEN HOT on it with a down arrow pointing to my crotch.  I thought that’s all there was to life. That is, until I got married and discovered the power of swinging.

One weekend, at a geology convention with a couple dozen other geology enthusiasts, my wife and I were debating the merits of felspar when a slimy looking character wearing all leather approached us. He wore a goatee and eyeliner, and the scent of Old Spice clung to him like the prospect of death clings to us all. He dangled his car keys in front of us and said, “I’m Ace. You guys swing?”

I grimaced. “I don’t know what that is, partner. Now unless you’ve got some obsidian hidden in your pocket there that you need an opinion on, I suggest you bounce.”

He smiled. “Have you met my wife, Maria?”

She was intoxicating to say the least. She had shoulder length brown hair, a playful smile across her lips, and a miner’s hat she had no doubt used to examine a cave, or some other place with lots of rocks.  We hit it off immediately, and before I knew it, we were off to pour over my personal mica collection as her husband and my wife took part in a spirited debate over sinkholes.

We were hooked. We scheduled as many swinging geology parties as we could. It was incredibly difficult to get enthusiasts of both. We were forced to throw geology parties for our geologist friends and then try to suggest swinging once they got there. Or, we’d throw a swingers party, and during the swinging we’d try to get everyone to start talking about volcanic activity or something like that. It was incredibly frustrating. We ended up alienating friends of ours in both groups. We got so desperate that we were forced to go to grocery stores dangling our keys, running up to random people saying, “Do you like rocks? You happy with your husband/wife?” over and over again. After awhile it got frustrating.  Plus we couldn’t get groceries there anymore. I mean, you try propositioning housewives for random sex from 9-5 every day and see if Safeway will let you back in.

It certainly seemed like there was no way for my wife and I to combine our passions of geology and trading sexual favors with others’ spouses. Then came the Internet.

Ace  sent us an email one day on his break from analyzing fossil fuel patterns in the Middle East for ExxonMobil. He turned us on to a Usenet group called alt.geologists.swinging. It put us in touch with a swinging geologists all over this great nation. We arrange conferences and parties to trade keys and talk about continental drift. It still operates today, and I encourage you to join.  It is just good, old fashioned, wholesome American fun. And if you don’t believe that the good time is contagious,  you got another thing coming, Sir. I took Larry the Cable Guy’s wife out for crab cakes and set Larry up with Nancy Travis. That worked until Nancy told him that she’s only my wife on TV. Last time I even convinced Foxworthy to read about tectonic plates and try out my wife’s ball gag.

If you take anything from this today, it’s that you should try new things. If two of those things happen to be geology and casual sex with married people, then so be it.  But be adventurous. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go prepare for the next Swinging Geologists’ Conference, where I’ll be giving a speech titled Graphic Analysis of Yellowstone’s Batholithic Activity and How Long You and Tina There Been Hitched? ‘Cause Her Bee-Hind Sure is Purty.

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