The Return of Turnip Head

I wish I could say that it's good to have Rainbow Brite Bossholio back in the office today, but I'd hate to lie to you fine folks.

Perhaps an enema of Skittles (taste the rainbow!) and Jack Daniels would do the trick?


It was too gawd blessed hot up in this holler to do much this weekend. While we have two window units going full blast, when it's 99° outside and you've got three adults, two dogs, a cat and one giant pupzilla crammed into a rectangular aluminum box sitting in direct sunlight.. well.. you spend your summers feeling like a foil wrapped tater, tossed in the BBQ. 

Mushy, steamy, falling apart and a little bit crusty.

In other news, I had to waller Ma out of the floor again this morning. I don't know what to do about her, other than get her up when she falls. 

Do ya'll remember the Cutie Patootie? The sweetest boss I ever had (and he smelled yummy too) with the Barbie doll wife, who didn't have to "work," just did crafts, pursued a singing career and rode around in the Corvette he bought her for her birthday while he slaved away at the same crappy company I work for?

Yeah. She left him.



She's been seen slobbering all over some band that plays down at the county line, the skankiest bar in existence. She's even got a new Facebook page where she's gone back to her maiden name and posted all sorts of ding dong looking trashy pictures of herself. 

People are stupid. 

I'd better get back to the grind before ol' Turnip Head comes back here and I have to put a hurtin' on him. Ya'll take care. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!