So there I was on Wednesday evening past and the d*mn phone rang. On the other end was some cracker a*s with a "southern" drawl who said He was somebody named Grabbit or something like that and That He had two days to kill and He thought He should spend them with Me..................
Number 1, I hate evening phone calls and Number two I ain't exactly amused by craker a*sed folks from the wrong side of the Mason/Dixon Line.
As I needed a full two days to "dust" every thing in the House and Shop "of which the door between the two has never been closed in the twenty five years that I have lived here, I told Him that I neither had time for or wanted to see Him before Saturday which to Him meant noon Friday, the stupid Cracker a*s.
Well here we are on the following Wednesday and the masses showed up Saturday Morning. The House/Shop WAS NOT DUST FREE, however I did make Him vacuum the shop carpet next to the Race Car and buy the Beer for the likes of Stainless and John Boy and Four Barrel. ... and I invited Ol' Cracker A*s to go home, get a divorce, sell all His Sh*t and move His a*s to Vancouver, Waa and sleep in the shop.
What a pleasure it has been to visit, entertain (
), and listen (
) to all His observations and tales of woe. And best of all, He paid for My dinner and said He is coming back if the North Korean's haven't nuked Us by then.
He is in fact, similar to the farmer who was "outstanding in his field". I did however forget to ask him exactly what His "field" was.
Ol' One Run Bob, out.........................................................