Cowgirls, Gropers and Afternoon Visitors

Holy booger fest Batman! Everything from the neck up is either swollen, hurting or expelling mystery substances. My head is just one big, festering infection.

I know.. my sexiness is overwhelming. Try to control yourselves.

Saturday was the Amazon's birthday. It began with my putting my mouth up to the hole where her doorknob used to be (you might be a redneck) and singing "Happy Birthday" loudly and purposely off key. Later, she indulged in some brownies and some Wii action, while I napped.. because I'm a walking, raging cesspool of infection (my therapist says I need to stop making everything about me,) then that night she walked down to the local watering hole to meet a few of her closest friends.

I could tell her friends hadn't arrived when she got there because she immediately began texting me with a list of who all was there.

"The Groper is here. He's standing behind me."

Oh. Ma. Gawd. Ew.

When she got home, she had to give me the lowdown on everyone. It was still sorta early, but she said her friend had been overcome with heebeejeebies when she saw The Groper on the dance floor with some chicklet we've dubbed "The Cowgirl," because only in Frog Pond Holler do two women decide to go out for a little Saturday night excitement, saddling up their horses and riding down the main drag after dark. The heebeejeebies began when the friend, watching The Groper and The Cowgirl on the dance floor, witnessed the digital anal probing going on right there in front of God and everyone.

Yes my friends, this is the same man who likes to rub my arms and feed me Christmas candy.

After I told both Thelma and Lulu about The Groper's Saturday night shenanigans, I was forced to make butt juice jokes and several references to hand sanitizer due to my being catty and bitchy today.. BECAUSE MY ENTIRE HEAD IS INFECTIOUS.

But it's not all about me. Really.

In other exciting Asylum news, we had a visitor on Friday. I was sitting at my desk goofing off on Plurk and reading stuff working diligently when I heard a voice at the front of the building.

"HELLLLOOOOOO... is anyone HEEEEERRRREEEE? Oh HI mister!!! How the heck ARE ya???"

I felt my left eyeball begin to twitch. Beads of perspiration formed on my brow. A feeling of impending doom began to rise through my gut in a primal warning of self preservation.

It was....

Bubbles.

I'm assuming she came to shmooze, her unemployment is probably getting ready to run out and Bubbahubby can't possibly work another job. She also did not expect to encounter Bossman in the hallway.

"Oh HI! What are YOU doing here? Your car's not out there."

Dang.. obvious much?

"Yes it is," he answered.

"No it's not, your black car, it's not out there," she insisted.

"I don't have a black car anymore," he explained.

"Oh.. well.. I finally got to go play golf. I really liked it!" The bullcrap was so deep in there, I nearly gagged. In the past she also said she liked the Colts (Bossman's favorite team) when she wouldn't know a football if it flew up her big ol' butt.

"Nice seeing ya. Hope you're doing ok," Bossman added before trying to walk away.

"Oh, so you don't wanna talk to me huh?" Bubbles said, trying to be cute, but managing instead to sound desperate and pathetic.

"End of the month, lots to get done," he answered as he fled out into the plant. I didn't see him again for almost 45 minutes.

She finally left. My mind raced with all sorts of possible scenarios, but I know she was just nosing around because her Bubbahubby probably told her she'd have to find a job after her unemployment ran out.

See? If I can get a job working from home, everyone will be happy, even Bubbles. She can come back to the Asylum and have it all to herself. Okay so, Bossman probably won't be happy, but he never is.

Anywho... I have a call in to the Big City doctor for some antibiotics. I'm dunno why I called. She never calls them in for me, but I'm clinging to hope. Ya'll have a bootay kickin' week. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters.