Buford and the Pepsi Miracle

Oh things are hopping down here in the holler. With traffic being rerouted through town after the big rock slide on I-40, we're overrun with state troopers, giant, flashing warning signs and lost motorists who are all looking for a place to pee. We've only got like.. three public potties in Frog Pond Holler and they're not used to this kinda abuse. At one point the other day, all of them were backed up at the same time.

City folk don't take too kindly to being pointed towards the bush behind the Hee-Haw clinic when they're lookin' for a porcelin throne on which to rest their delicate backsides

With all the excitement, we've spotted news crews from different places every day and with all the reporters milling around, looking for a story, Hee-Haw county has been making the news more and more. Lulu was telling me about one report she saw last night about a man up in the remote mountain community just across Froggy mountain, Buford Pickle.

Ol' Buford must have been a real ladies man or at least hard to live with, because Buford had three ex-wives. Well, one day the Hee-Haw country sheriff's office got a report from Mrs. Pickle number three that she'd gotten a call from Mrs. Pickle number two saying she reckoned she'd get back with Buford just so she could get back in his house in order to set it on fire.

The police tried to warn him, but a fire sprang up at Ol' Buford's place before they could get there.Buford Pickle escaped unscathed and his home was spared any real damage when his makeshift spitoon, a plastic Pepsi bottle he'd left sitting on the kitchen table, melted from the heat of the fire and began oozing it's thick, brown, spitty liquid onto the flames, putting the fire out.

No.. seriously. It was on the 11 o'clock news.

Poor Ol' Buford was dumbfounded over Mrs. Pickle number two and her desire to end his life. He said he'd always treated her real good, better than his other wives and that she was his favorite. The police tracked her down over in Greenville Tennessee and when they asked her why she did it, she simply stated, "I was tard of his crap!"

Buford was not, however, too shook up to model his guitar for the news crew, dedicating a song to Mrs. Pickle number two and proceeding to give a toothless rendition of some lonesome old bluegrass song about a man being forced to drown his new bride when she didn't live up to his expectations.

Bless his heart.

The really sad part? Me and Ol' Buford share a branch of the same family tree. Kinda explains alot doesn't it?

Anywho...

I'd better get to back to making money for the man. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!