Goddess Writes

“Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway..”
Hey, everybody, it’s Goddess. I will be waking up in Mike South’s bed tomorrow morning!! Ok, that doesn’t sound good.  Let me change that.  “I will be waking up on some rolled up newspapers on the floor of South’s bedroom tomorrow morning!!” Awww, I’m missing home already.
When South asked me to update while he ho’ed it up in Vegas, I told him there was no freaking way I was going to face that harrowing drive after last time. All those days on the road and I never even made it to Georgia. I cried and ranted and raved and when none of that worked, I made it clear that I had no qualms about giving up his source for that Pirates II thingy unless he wired me air fare. And he did. Barely enough for the ‘no class’ section.
There was a slight problem, however, when I got to the airport. Haha, it’s the funniest thing.  South is gonna laugh and laugh  and kick my ass when he reads this. I kinda forgot about my ‘being terrified to fly‘ problem. So I spent the money on a Tom Tom BUT I’m saving the receipt and returning it  as soon as I get home like I did last time.  I don’t need a GPS system  to find my way to the drive in window of the Dairy Queen.  Now if it could help me locate my car in WalMart’s parking lot, I might consider keeping it.

I have to be honest and tell you that I only agreed to this gig for two reasons:
A. South has a high def widescreen in his trailer
2. South has COURT TV In case you haven’t heard, the bastards at Dish eliminated Court TV and until I get Direct TV at the end of the month, I‘m jonesing badly for my COPS!!
So what that translates to is this: if one of my offspring calls and says, “Mommy, Court TV is back on!” I’m blowing this popsicle stand pronto. AND I’m stealing the copy of Polar Express that South dl’ed illegally for me.  Call it poetic justice. I don’t care if I did promise to gut it out for several days.  Some promises were made to be broken. I don’t want you people to think I’m not thrilled to be here, but well, I’m not.
BTW, when South tells you guys I’m updating, why does he always add the words “God help us”?  My confidence is only bolstered by the fact that everybody is in Vegas and no one is reading me anyway.

Here’s  a few things I’m noticing about drivers on the way down: thugs drive while leaning against the driver’s side door.  Guess it makes the drive by’s easier. Cops lean in the opposite direction., probably to avoid the drive bys. When an old person is driving towards you all you see is a puff of teased blue hair and a steering wheel being held with a claw like death grip. The older they are the more veins you can see popping out in their hands and fingers. Creepy lonely guys and rednecks drive with their right arm stretched out along the back of their seat. Lonely guys do it because they’re  mentally picturing that little lady next to them. [These are the same guys who buy birthday cakes for their blow up girlfriends.] Rednecks drive with their arm stretched out so they can quickly reach for the rifle they have mounted above their seat if you piss’em off.  And teens don’t have any hands on the wheel because they’re too busy using them for talking and texting.

On the radio while driving down Monday, I heard a story about a woman and her son who stole a baby boa from a pet store in Ohio and were arrested when they later returned and asked for books on how to care for the animal. Oh, if only they had stolen “The Idiots Guide to Shoplifiting” first.  In another interesting story, I learned that  if you want to make a quick $180k, follow the lead from a Philadelphia woman.  She carried flour filled condoms onto an airplane and was arrested because the airport workers thought the substance was drugs. Apparently it took the CSI geniuses in Philly three weeks to decide the condoms were, in fact, filled with flour and the chick won a cool 180k for civil rights violations because she was jailed the entire time.
Ok, time for me to grab my kid and hit the road so I can be in Georgia by nightfall. I didn’t tell South I couldn’t find a babysitter for Male Offspring #8.  I hope South’s dump is as child friendly as it is ho friendly. MO#8 is only 11 months old and I couldn’t trust him with his siblings. They have no idea how to care for the needs of a small child.  Ooo, speaking of which, he hasn’t eaten since that Cinnabon in Virginia that he washed down with a splash of double expresso, so I better grab a taco for him along the way. The boy needs his veggies. See ya in Georgia!

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Goddess Writes

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