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Updated on May 20, 2013
Streamlined | Source

It looks like the very same evolutionary pressure that has made the mighty Bluefin the shape and form it is today — all the better to streak slippingly and speedily through the chill dark waters of the ocean deep — has also made Bluffy Blintz the shape and form he is today. After all, how better to slide seamlessly through the endless restless queue at Homeland Security on the way to that cheap cramped seat to Daytona?

Yes, the telling taper of Bluffy’s torso has served him well over these many years.

Throughout the bullying semesters of early Middle School, little blimpie Bluff-Boy (who was nowhere near the height nor the girth that he is today) could easily evade the looming gauntlet of growth-spurting sixth graders, slipping through their grasping arms to freedom. No noogies, pink-bellies, wedgies or cauliflower ears for young Mr. Blintz. No, indeed.

In ensuing years, his growing and increasingly aerodynamic form made the bulbous lad the local hero of the high jump at the spring high school regionals. Racing down the track, then tossing himself skyward, tucked into a tight spiral, Bluffy could always exceed the highest mark of any competing sophomore. But it was junior year that saw a buffer Bluff enter the sport of varsity wrestling — AND the state’s athletic record books! Once his swelling ellipsoid physiognomy was encased in a slippery sheen of body oil mixed with sweat, there wasn’t a mat opponent anywhere that could even get a grip, let alone win a match. To this day, the hand-lettered ‘Blintz, B.’ name occupies every single state wrestling record category throughout all weight classes.

Young Blintz built on that phenomenal wrestling prowess during his years on the bucolic campus of the Northwestern Louisiana State Remedial A&M, seven years in all (for the Bluffman could never quite bluff his way as well through the required coursework). Eventually matriculating with a major in marketing and a minor in managerial technologies — a field of study that consisted merely of memo-writing, requisitioning, filing, collating, stapling, and recycling — Bluffy moved on to a position in sales at the sole vacuum cleaner parts and repair shop in his hometown of Fried Grits, LA. Soon he was Senior Sales Associate. After only eleven years of consistent, well-directed effort, he now stands poised to take on the role of 2nd Assistant General Day Manager (replacing the late Ebeneezer Geezer, III, former oldest living person in Louisiana).

The striking streamlined appearance and physical character of this up-and-coming executive carries through to his demeanor as well. He’s never one to make waves. Bluffy will always go along to get along, and you’ll never hear so much as a pip from him in the process. (He doesn’t even seem to mind being a grown man called ‘Bluffy’.)

The not-so-happy-face wife-beater he is wearing was a gift from his younger sis Beatrix during a vacation excursion to Myrtle Beach 14 years ago, and it has been Bluff’s vacation shirt ever since. Similarly, the shorts date from the early 80s when denims were only cool if they bore at least a couple dozen elaborately stitched little pockets all about.

Stream on, Bluff-Man!


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