Friday, July 31, 2009

Please let this vacation be over now.

(That's my brother and me being all Donnie & Marie and what not.)

Contrary to what your mama may have told you, a steady diet of banana pudding, homemade ice cream and fried seafood WILL make you fat.

Or in my case, fatter.

I seriously am such a lard ass toad at this point, I'm going to wind up on TLC wearing nothing but a sheet when the fire department shows up to cut a hole in my wall to hoist me out of bed.

Y'all this "vacation" has been nothing good - with the exception of the food. The man the state says I'm supposed to love 'til death accidentally happens to him through no fault of my own, is once again in back misery. His pain is wicked bad and even though I know he is pitiful and broken down and what not, I find him highly unpleasant.


As I write this, I am in a hotel about six hours from home because I simply could not drive one minute further. I got so tired at one point I seriously considered picking up a hitch hiker. So help me God, if Michael Buble had been thumbing his way through Arkansas, he would totally have been driving Darla the car for me.

And then I woulda raped him. 'Cause he's all hot and what not; and not for nothing, but Mr. Man is broken again so clearly I'm gonna get some-some about the same time I win the lottery.

I'll be back this weekend with many details, some pictures that will mean nothing to you, and God willing and the creek don't rise, a little vlog action.

Of course that all depends on whether I'm in jail in Sikeston, Missouri for hog tying Mr. Man and tossing him out at a convenience store.

I'm just sayin.

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