I'd Hump It, If I Had the Time

Good gawd ya'll. Is it only WEDNESDAY? It seems like I've been down here in the trenches all by myself for WEEKS. My office looks like feckin' Mission Control with my computer on the desk and Bossman's laptop on the table behind me. I'm keeping up with requests from FOUR different email accounts (mine, Bossmans, the general sales account and the account formerly known as Bubbles) and I'm getttin' downright jiggy with it faxin' quotes and entering orders like a crazy person.

And you wondered why I call it the Asylum.

Let's take a moment in the midst of all the mayhem (and while the managers are all in their piss, moan and bellyache morning meeting) to touch base on all things Mahala.

Yesterday the Amazon got the news that she'll be having another root canal in two weeks. She's not pleased. I told her she should email Dianne Sawyer and tell her she's a hillbilly Mountain Dew addict. Maybe ABC News will film the whole thing and pay her for the pleasure. The Amazon failed to see the humor in my little comment.

Everyone's a critic.

Remember the other day when I told ya'll about Thelma's little run of bad luck? Well.. her daddy's new surgery is scheduled for this Friday. Also? She lost a filling on the way to work this morning and she's misplaced her drivers license. PG tried to convince her that she's just not living right, which I think just made her more nervous.

Bless her heart.

Lulu harbors no sympathy for her whatsoever, a fact I'm finding difficult to deal with. If I had seen Bubbles walking around the office with a giant eye patch, then dark Stevie Wonder glasses and a constant stream of eye goo running down her cheek, I would have at least felt a little sorry for her. I mean, if you're going to stroll around playing the uber holy roller, you should at least have a crumb of compassion for your enemies.. right?

Don't ask me. I'm just a heathern.

The townsfolk here in the holler are all in a wad over the impending move of the caboose that serves as the town's welcome center. People watched and wondered as the porch was ripped off the front. Rumor is that they're moving it down to a tiny patch of land the town still owns, adjacent to the spa property.

The walls of the caboose are lined with old black and white pictures of residents past and present. There's even a picture of my grandaddy, "Big Daddy," in a high school baseball uniform... which now that I think about it.. doesn't make sense since I was told he "found" Frog Pond Holler when he was working on the railroad, then moving here from over in Forest City.

Hmmm. I need to look in to that.

Anywho...

If I survive this Humpday, I'll be back soon with more titillating news from the holler.

Titillating. There's a fun word.

Later Taters!