The Pee-Wee, The Funk and The Stoner

The sun is shining bright down on Frog Pond Holler this morning. It's about dern time. I hope the mud has a chance to dry up a little before we get any new moisture falling from the heavens.

I feel like I've been beaten with a baseball bat today. My marathon grocery shopping - deal hunting - coupon waving - rebate grabbing adventure yesterday whipped my booty. I got some nice deals though, some free Revlon from CVS plus free Purex and cookies at Wally World.

I like free. Free makes me a happy little hillbilly.

Here in the holler, everything seems kind of quiet as we wait for the influx of tourists and hikers to begin. Traffic will be thick as ants on honey, even more so with that chunk of I-40 still closed. Foot traffic will be almost as heavy as those granola eatin', shower shunning hikers start making their way down off the trail.

Bring on the funk.

Meanwhile, back at the trailer...

The plumbing is still broken. Seriously. I'm calling the town on Monday and giving them until Wednesday. If it's not fixed by then I'm calling the health inspector. I'm tired of all this pussy footin' around. It's ridiculous. And I don't mean they need to come "look at it" by then. I want the gawd dern thing fixed.

I've got to get some stuff done around the house this weekend. It looks like it's been ransacked, partially due to the plumbing situation. There is laundry piled in every room. I take enough to the laundromat to keep clean clothes to wear to work, but the rest just keeps piling up.

Dirty laundry does not emit a pleasant aroma, especially in mass quantities.

It's funkalicious ya'll.

Here at The Asylum, it's peaceful today. Sunshine Bossman is his usual if he laughed his face would crack and he'd surely crap his pants cheerful self, but he's got his door shut, pouting about some mundane something I'm sure, so I don't mind. Thelma isn't here, I imagine she's off beating her 15 year old stoner into a life of therapy as we speak, which is cool because her older stoner but she doesn't know son is studying psychology in college.

Lulu is slowly coming out of her shell. Her daddy died a couple of weeks ago after a long illness, she's just starting to talk about it a little and even joke around some. I'm sure she'll be back to her old self before long.

If all else fails, I'll just run in her office, close the door with an angry look on my face like I'm fixin' to vent about something, then I'll start humming "Tequila" and break out into my own rendition of the Pee-Wee dance.

Works every time. She cannot resist the Pee-Wee.

Anywho, I need to get back to the bump and grind. Ya'll have a booty kickin' weekend. We'll talk again soon.





Later Taters!



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