Wednesday, February 23, 2005

A New Letter

Dear Alvis:

Things are much the same here in Hootin Holler. The nice thing about living in a small town is if you don’t know what you are doing, someone else does.

Odie Smoots recently had an automobile accident. He told the officer that the car skidded when he swerved to avoid a pine tree that seemed to come out of nowhere. Then every time he swerved there seemed to be another pine tree in the way, so his car ended up in the ditch. The cop told him there were no trees around; it was just the air freshener hanging on the rear view mirror. Odie is not the sharpest pencil in the cup. He is the kind of guy when asked by a cop, “Got any ID?” he answers with, “Bout what?” Your father says they quit giving him lunch breaks at work, so they don’t have to retrain him.

Lazlo Thomas recently applied for a job, and asked your father for a reference. Of course, he is so lazy, and giving him a reference put your father on the spot. Your father finally took care of the problem by writing, “In my opinion, you will be very fortunate to get Lazlo to work for you. No one would be better for the job.” Lazlo was hired, and your father said he had done the best he could. It wasn’t his fault if they didn’t take his warning.

Harley Corn started going to a new psychiatrist. He told him that he had a dream where he was a tee-pee, then he had another dream where he was a wigwam. The psychiatrist told Harley his problem was that he was too tense. Harley is not the brightest guy in the world. He was asked recently if he could have a conversation with someone, living or dead, who would it be. He told them it would be with the living one.

Well, got to go help your father. We were going to take a walk together later, and he went out to see if that old log over the gully was strong enough to hold both of us. It wasn’t.

Love,
Mama

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home