Just to have a laugh, or sing a song. Seems we just get started and before you know it Comes the time we have to say, “So Southiskickingmyasstothecurb long.”
Just when I decided I was going to get the Tampa ticket from Dirty Bob and raffle it off at Our Lady
of Mercy’s Annual Spring Bazaar, a couple stragglers sent me a caption. The winner of the Tampa ticket is <insert drum roll here>: Tod Hunter! IF Mrs. Tod says it’s ok. If she doesn’t approve, contact Dirty Bob and he’ll give you it’s worth in cash. You can then use the $5 to buy scratch off lottery tickets, Tod.
I’ll be heading out early Sunday morning, in the wee hours while the city sleeps. It’ll just be me, the truckers I flash and morning dew dancing on the tree tops. Eh, fuck the dew. I’m not getting out of bed till noon. I just wanted to elicit your sympathies, as you imagine me driving down that lonely highway with a neurotic dog at my side. I’m really glad I had the foresight to get dog tranquilizers from the vet’s office before I left. I feel so relaxed, and I can’t remember when I’ve had such a good night’s sleep. Heading home always makes me think of “Then Came Bronson.” “Going down that long lonesome highway….” Remember Michael Parks? I had a crush on him. One more thing you didn’t need to know.
I’m leaving Georgia on a high note. I got booted out of WalMart Friday night for screaming, “Say it like you mean it, old man!” to the greeter. Hey, I was sick of his oh so boring version of goodbye. I was in the store buying Holly a blonde wig and a pink crewneck sweater so I could drive in the HOV lane. [I love this mutt but she is one hell of an ugly blonde.] As I walked out of the store, the greeter yawned, then gave me a bored “bye.” That’s when I lit into him and demanded he give a better job performance. Of course he immediately pulled out his weapon of choice: his pricing gun. I am but a mere Goddess, no match for a pricing gun.
Dirty Bob sends this one teeny bit of porn gossip:
“One of the headlines at a far lesser website right now is a Tera Patrick comment which says: “I don’t work with men anymore, I only work with Evan [Seinfeld]” .
Looks like South is right all along – Evan isn’t a man? heh heh”
Dr. X sent me an email and the last line read,
“Let’s keep in touch.” BWAHAHAHA. The last person who said that to me was South, and six short years later, here I am, sitting in his computer chair, wearing his underwear. Do you really wanna risk it, Dr. X?? I think not.
I can’t believe I’ll be seeing my offspring soon! I love those little sweeties. They’re my whole world. Wonder how many seconds it’ll take for them to piss me off royally? Dibs on five.
I’d like to say thanks to Mike for once again letting me stay at his place. I can honestly say that I never expected to see a plasma screen tv in a trailer, but it’s always culture shock when I come to Georgia. BTW, I felt so terrible about burning a hole in your couch when my vibrator caught fire while jilling to your bukkakes that I ordered you a new sofa. See? I’m more than willing to take full responsibility for my actions. Knowing your penchant for filming on your own couch, I also made sure to order you one that is stain resistant. It will arrive early Monday morning, and your first payment isn’t due until December. You’re welcome, Mikey pooh.
Also, thanks to you guys for putting up with me for the last week. I appreciated all of your emails. It was fun making some new friends. I agree with South, he does have the best readers. Thanks!Goddess
