Murder in the Holler

It's 10:30 on Christmas Eve morning. I have not showered. I haven't brushed my hair. I did manage to change from my beltless robe to some actual clothes. When Ma informed me that my trashy big boobed cousin with the lazy eye's youngin was on her way, I grabbed the first thing I could find, a twenty year old dark blue t-shirt with a giant hole in the left pit and some shorts.

It's not like I have to leave the house or anything.

The Amazon took the truck to go perform the last day of her professional ding-a-ling duties for the Salvation Army and I seriously doubt I'll be venturing out in to the yard. It is bear season here in the holler ya know. I'd hate to get shot out by the broken down hippy van, tossed in the back of a pick up with six howling hounds and hauled to the nearest shop o' taxidermy before Big Huntin' Bubba realizes I'm not a bear, just a frumpilicious trailer dweller who's legs are in serious need of a Lady Remington.

So yeah... I'm staying in for the duration.

Moving on...

There was a crime wave here in the holler yesterday morning. That's right, you big city dwellers don't have all the excitement.

The culprit:

From Blogger Pictures

When I went to check on the fish babies yesterday morning, I opened the aquarium lid and peered inside where I found one of the frogs, Sheldon, sitting fat and happy inside the net where I was keeping the babies. He was all like, "That was effin' yummy! Got anymore snacks like that?" and I was all like, "BASTID!!! YOU ATE MY BABIES!!" and then he started singing "The Circle of Life," trying to be all like Elton John and crap.

He not only ate the babies, he ate all the food and everything else in there too. It looked like he sucked the whole net clean. Then? He didn't want to leave the net. I had to poke him in his little froggie butt to get him out of it.

I tried to shake it off, kicked myself for not realizing that, of course, Leonard and Sheldon would see baby fishies as a tasty treat and while the net would protect them from the other fish, the froggies have actual little webbed hand like thingies and would have no problem climbing inside.

I stopped at the Gas n' Go where the Amazon was sitting behind the counter, knitting and watching cartoons hard at work selling fuel and chewin' tobaccy to the good citizens of Frog Pond Holler on my way to work. She'd been churning snot for a few days which had slowly turned in to the creepin' chest crud, so I dropped some cold medicine off for her in case she started feeling worse.

When I told her of Sheldon's murderous spree, she first expressed genuine concern. When I told her the part about him singing like Elton John, a small smile formed on her lips and she said, in an Australian accent, with a nod to Meryl Streep, "The froggeh ate my baby!!!" then proceeded to giggle uncontrollably.

I tried giving her the STFU stink eye, but the harder she tried to stifle herself, the more she snorted and chortled.

So yeah, Sheldon the frog ate my baby fishies. The bastid.

Anywho... I hope ya'll have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Crazy Kwanzaa, Sweet Saturnalia and regardless of what you celebrate, this season finds you with love in your heart and surrounded by people you love.

Later Taters!