Keeping in mind that City Girl is the highbrow segment of this equation and...I'm not...we're going to reconsider. She and I haven't discussed it yet but, given time, we're going to reconsider. Because she's the Brains and...I'm not. I'm the Loud One.
When you look at the two of us the sum is...ludicrous. She was raised up North. I was raised in Center Star Alabama where "up North" is considered anywhere on the other side of Collinwood Tennnessee. She is of Polish extraction with the accompanying diverse experiences. I am seriously rural ScotsIrish Tennessee hillfolk REDNECK. (There is, for comic relief, a couple of Germans and an Indian in there somewhere but the History Channel? Does programs on my relatives and their murderous tendencies.)
City Girl has no kids. I have three...aged 28, 13 and eight. Had you taken a vote in high school? I would have been elected Most Unlikely To Have Multiple Children. I continue to wake up to a new world every day. I have no plan and lots of dust bunnies. She has an outline and clean baseboards.
She has a Real Job. She works really hard at her Real Job. I went to school for a really long time but then...I had kids for a really long time and the older you get? The harder it is to raise kids. And the less apt you are to step outside the house and let other people demand stuff of you because...you're used up. There's only so much of one person to go around.
So? Having said this? We're in. She's justifiably tired. I'm lazy. That's okay. We will prevail. I might even get on a roll this afternoon about the BUTT UGLY woman in the Mustang riding my ass through Killen this morning. I'm not making this up. I'm cruising along, speed limit is 55, I'm doing 59. In the right lane. Listening to The Boss. Minding my own business. And then out of the blue there is this red Mustang about TWO inches off my ass.
Two inches. I can't figure out WHY, because I AM IN THE RIGHT LANE. Honey, I'm going as fast as I'm gonna go in an incorporated vicinity. YOU. NEED. TO. STOP.
She didn't. The car in the left lane, who was holding everything up, wasn't too concerned about the situation and I wasn't ABOUT to speed up and get a ticket so that Red Car could pass me. Do it on your own dime.
And finally, when my speed gave Red Car the inches she needed, she whipped over and passed me. And when I turned around to GLARE at the bitch because...(to paraphrase Richard Pryor) "I AIN'T DONE NUTHIN'!!"
SHE turned around and looked at ME!!
And it was like Medusa on a roll. That was the ugliest damn woman I have seen in at least six months. Bad bleached hair all straw-like to her...well, to where her chin was SUPPOSED to be because...That woman? was all nose. She had this HUGE ugly-ass nose and then it sloped straight down to her neck because of the absence of chin and THIS CHICK? is driving a Red Mustang?
Honey. Oh, honey. It's gonna take a LOT more than a Red Mustang for you to be lookin' good and in the meantime? You really need to get off my ass.
I'm just sayin'.
When you look at the two of us the sum is...ludicrous. She was raised up North. I was raised in Center Star Alabama where "up North" is considered anywhere on the other side of Collinwood Tennnessee. She is of Polish extraction with the accompanying diverse experiences. I am seriously rural ScotsIrish Tennessee hillfolk REDNECK. (There is, for comic relief, a couple of Germans and an Indian in there somewhere but the History Channel? Does programs on my relatives and their murderous tendencies.)
City Girl has no kids. I have three...aged 28, 13 and eight. Had you taken a vote in high school? I would have been elected Most Unlikely To Have Multiple Children. I continue to wake up to a new world every day. I have no plan and lots of dust bunnies. She has an outline and clean baseboards.
She has a Real Job. She works really hard at her Real Job. I went to school for a really long time but then...I had kids for a really long time and the older you get? The harder it is to raise kids. And the less apt you are to step outside the house and let other people demand stuff of you because...you're used up. There's only so much of one person to go around.
So? Having said this? We're in. She's justifiably tired. I'm lazy. That's okay. We will prevail. I might even get on a roll this afternoon about the BUTT UGLY woman in the Mustang riding my ass through Killen this morning. I'm not making this up. I'm cruising along, speed limit is 55, I'm doing 59. In the right lane. Listening to The Boss. Minding my own business. And then out of the blue there is this red Mustang about TWO inches off my ass.
Two inches. I can't figure out WHY, because I AM IN THE RIGHT LANE. Honey, I'm going as fast as I'm gonna go in an incorporated vicinity. YOU. NEED. TO. STOP.
She didn't. The car in the left lane, who was holding everything up, wasn't too concerned about the situation and I wasn't ABOUT to speed up and get a ticket so that Red Car could pass me. Do it on your own dime.
And finally, when my speed gave Red Car the inches she needed, she whipped over and passed me. And when I turned around to GLARE at the bitch because...(to paraphrase Richard Pryor) "I AIN'T DONE NUTHIN'!!"
SHE turned around and looked at ME!!
And it was like Medusa on a roll. That was the ugliest damn woman I have seen in at least six months. Bad bleached hair all straw-like to her...well, to where her chin was SUPPOSED to be because...That woman? was all nose. She had this HUGE ugly-ass nose and then it sloped straight down to her neck because of the absence of chin and THIS CHICK? is driving a Red Mustang?
Honey. Oh, honey. It's gonna take a LOT more than a Red Mustang for you to be lookin' good and in the meantime? You really need to get off my ass.
I'm just sayin'.
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