Mama Writes
Dear Alvis:
Things are much the same here in Hootin Holler. It seems every day we feel a bit older. It seems the only things we are able to do more now that we are older is go to the bathroom and attend funerals. Your father says that if he ever had any wild oats, they have turned to shredded wheat. He always did have a dry sense of humor.
Last week we went on a tour of Rybold's chicken farm. It is certainly a big operation, producing both chickens and eggs. Your father asked George Rybold which he thought came first, the chicken or the egg. George said he didn't know. George evidently is not the brains behind the operation. Your father says chickens are the only thing he knows of that you eat after they are dead and before they are born.
Harley Corn is still going to see his psychiatrist, although I wonder if it is doing him any good. No one can convince him that he is not doomed to have bad luck. We have tried and tried, but Harley says his luck is so bad that if he started a cemetary business, people would stop dying.
Lazlo Thomas and his fiance, Soupie, came over last night to visit. They both wanted to show us their new tatoos. Each tatoo said the wearer (I guess you could call the person with the tatoo, the wearer) loved the other person. For the life of me, I cannot understand this fascination with tatoos on the part of younger people today. I wonder if they ever saw what tatoos look like on older people. That's not a pretty thought. In a few years we will have a lot of tatooed older people running around.
Well, must go now because I have to help your father. He stuck his fingers into a pair of chinese handcuffs to see if they worked. They did. Write when you have time.
Love,
Mama
Things are much the same here in Hootin Holler. It seems every day we feel a bit older. It seems the only things we are able to do more now that we are older is go to the bathroom and attend funerals. Your father says that if he ever had any wild oats, they have turned to shredded wheat. He always did have a dry sense of humor.
Last week we went on a tour of Rybold's chicken farm. It is certainly a big operation, producing both chickens and eggs. Your father asked George Rybold which he thought came first, the chicken or the egg. George said he didn't know. George evidently is not the brains behind the operation. Your father says chickens are the only thing he knows of that you eat after they are dead and before they are born.
Harley Corn is still going to see his psychiatrist, although I wonder if it is doing him any good. No one can convince him that he is not doomed to have bad luck. We have tried and tried, but Harley says his luck is so bad that if he started a cemetary business, people would stop dying.
Lazlo Thomas and his fiance, Soupie, came over last night to visit. They both wanted to show us their new tatoos. Each tatoo said the wearer (I guess you could call the person with the tatoo, the wearer) loved the other person. For the life of me, I cannot understand this fascination with tatoos on the part of younger people today. I wonder if they ever saw what tatoos look like on older people. That's not a pretty thought. In a few years we will have a lot of tatooed older people running around.
Well, must go now because I have to help your father. He stuck his fingers into a pair of chinese handcuffs to see if they worked. They did. Write when you have time.
Love,
Mama
posted by The Joker at 2:35 PM
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