Lost Armadillos interview: Douglas C. Neidermeyer

I had a bad case of the rice trots and handed Lyndon a squishy one to suck on. He made a secret service agent eat it and your dead president and I drank beer until dawn.

Wipe that beer off your chin, mister! Were you raised in a barn?

You can change the world with a home chemistry kit and a friendly monkey.

I grabbed him by the head and squeezed until his eyes started squirting between my fingers.

He says his young �wild child� days were ripped off to make a film about a bunch of drunken college assholes. They said he was killed by his own troops in �Nam. He says, �Fuck you. I�m here and my dick still works.� For the first time, the real Douglas C. Neidermeyer reveals what he has been doing since last heard from in the early �60s.This former Marine colonel talks about the bitter side of letting �gook ass run free� and tells all about faking his death to go undercover for the Agency. Plus, Dougie gives us the lowdown on his semi-retirement to Austin where he hopes to develop Barton Springs into a high-rise parking garage and get George W. Bush elected president for life. We sent veteran Lost Armadillos in Heat correspondent Bob �Blutto� McBob to the Draught House to interview the older, but trim Neidermeyer, who claims to be within two pounds of his college pledge-beating weight. McBob reports: �Drop and give me 20, mister; then get me a pitcher of beer and it�d better be cold,� Dougie said in greeting as we settled in between the University of Texas Law School baseball team and some ugly guys with short ponytails for a pleasant gabfest. The colonel drank only Budweiser and plenty of it. LAIH: Col. Neidermeyer, the story in many circles was that you were sent to Vietnam and killed by your own troops� DCN: Those liberal assholes. If they had any brains they�d know none of the troops in my command lived long enough to kill anyone. Wipe that beer off your chin, mister. Were you raised in a barn? LAIH: You contend your death was a means of letting you go undercover for the CIA. Yet you claim you didn�t leave Vietnam until 1978�five years after the United States pulled out of the battle and long after South Vietnam surrendered. DCN: And Lyndon Johnson is dead, right? You can wipe my ass with that, mister. LBJ tracked me down in a Saigon outhouse in 1977 and begged me to quit killing slant eyes. He was there under direct orders from that head Spook George Bush, the old man. I  had a bad case of the rice trots and handed Lyndon a big squishy one to suck on. He made a Secret Service agent eat it, and your dead president and I drank beer until dawn and then beat the shit out of a couple of rickshaw drivers to sober up. LAIH: Was it LBJ who told you about Austin? DCN: Hell, yes. Before he was assassinated by Nancy Reagan, LBJ was always jabbering about all the land available for the raping in Texas. I finally moved to Austin last year after reading about this save Barton Springs crap. It was safe again once Dubya moved to his fake ranch in Crawford. When I�m done your little hippies will be living in condos by where the diving board used to be and the Dragworms will machine gun squirrels for their masters� breakfasts. Max will be their leader. LAIH: Do you mean former Councilman Max Nofziger? DCN: Do you have ears, geek? They�re all under my thumb, those environmental goons. A few years back I came to town and visited little Max. I grabbed him by the head and squeezed until his eyes started squirting between my fingers. I said, �You�ll wear a suit, beatnik, or I�ll bite that mangy hair of yours out one strand at a time. LAIH: You were also a very strong supporter of George W. Bush for president. DCN: That idiot cokehead can kiss ass better than a high-priced hooker. And his daddy was there in Dallas when JFK was shot. You figure it out. Daddy Bush has his greasy hands in everything but creating AIDS to knock off the queers. That was my doing. You can change the world with a home chemistry kit and a friendly monkey. LAIH: The subject was George W. Bush. DCN: Don�t push me, punk, or I�ll feed you that beer mug one bite at a time. LAIH: OK, then let�s talk a little about fraternity hazing. DCN: Don�t give me that crap. Is it hazing when pledges have to pass a live rabbit without using their hands or feet? Is it hazing when men dress up as  Joan Crawford and tap dance? Is it hazing when cigarette butts are cleared from a yard using hippies with bubble gum in their hair? LAIH: Yes. DCN: Hell yes it is! LAIH: Which brings us to the movie �Animal � DCN: One more word and you�re head is part of a care package to Ethiopia. The can keep the rest of you here to make steaks. Get me more beer, dammit! LAIH: But was it as wild as it looked? DCN: We were kings, dammit! I don�t know anything about unmarked graves. You can�t pin a thing on me.! I don�t even know the words to �Louie, Louie.�

Return to Lost Armadillos in Heat