Hey, Darlin. How you doin' today? Your Mama and them gettin' along aright? Well, tell her I asked 'bout her. Lawrd knows I am pleased as punched to be back at the trailer with perty much all my Joons. Awww, don't fret, we gone find the rest of 'em directly... soon as I steady my nerves a bit. Ain't but 4 or 5 of 'em missin' -not bad fer me bein' gone long as I was. Hand me them nerve pills and that flask on the nightstand, Shug. I tell you what, that is one hell of a drive from Vegas to Mississippi. Oh, yeah, I won that there Merecedes out yonder. Nice, ain't it? Yep, you can take it to the quarry to hunt fer them kids.
Lot of y'all, that don't know me too good, ask me why on Gawd's green Earth I would want to drive to Vegas instead of flyin'. Flyin' don't bother me none a'tall -when I got my own plane or someone else's. Right now, I'm in betwix private jets. But, commercial airlines and me jist don't jeehaw. First, you got to deal with airport security. Well, that rat there is a deal breaker, Darlin'. I don't go to my mailbox without at least a glock. Then there is the strict adherence to schedulin' at commercial airports. When they say they is leavin' at such and such a time...they mean it! I have my life to live, and I find their schedule rigid and cumbersome. They'd do better with me to have a window of say 15-20 minutes followed by a last call. Then they could text me and honk once or twiced before they jist up and fly oft. Sides that, I don't care for the ambiance in airports. Fer one thang, they try to embarrass those of us who still smoke by banishin' us to what can only be exstinguished as modern day gallows. They may a well force us to wear a Scarlett S. Throughout the airport the lightin' don't flatter nobody, the o'coustics is ghastly and the furniture is punative. Even the bar, normally the happiest spot anywhere, smells frantic. You can't find nobody in a good mood- they's all scurryin' round and losin' their stuffin'. Everybody keeps lookin' at them papers again and again like they gone say somethin' different this time. Y'all, words printed on paper don't change! It's jist damn near impossible to look cool in a airport- even fer me. Some airports even got different times than others. They don't say pea turkey 'bout it to nobody. How the frick are we 'spossed to know what time they decreed it there at that airport? The whole thang is jist so arbitrarial. And I miss too many bidness opportunities in the air. So, there's a snapshot of why I'd rather drive when I can't git my mitts on a private plane.
Well, 'cause I'm one of the Lawrd's favorites, I won that lil car in Vegas. So, Baby and me stuffed 'em full of all our loot and oft we went headin' back home. Now, ya'll know that I normally don't drive because it impairs my drinkin'. That is one of the thangs I keep Baby 'round fer. You know I love him unconditional, on account of his looks. He is the most gorgeous creature Gawd ever made. But he really can git on my last nerve with all his chattin'. Onst we was on the road, I quickly realized I should have made him wear the duct tape over his mouth as usual. My left ear was bleedin' by the time we hit Albuquerque. Then his necrolepsy kicked in and we had to pull over for him to take one of his cat naps. I jist sat there and drank. I do some of my best thankin' while he is asleep. Seems like I remembered him tellin' me that he got hiself a twin brother. That's the kind of information that sticks with me. This twin of his was rendered mute in a timely weed-eater accident. Iffin I recall correctly, that brother of his lives in Amarillo. Heyall, that is right on our way.
When Baby woke up, I asked him iffin his twin was necroleptic too. Good news fer me, that was the only way their mama could tell 'em apart. Further investigation revealed there ain't no chance of him regainin' his speech neither. Just to confirm, I asked Baby, "The only difference between you and your identical twin brother is that he don't fall out asleep like a corpse at inopportune times and he is hopelessly mute?" After Baby waxed on affirmative, I made arrangements fer us to meet Baby's twin brother at the Big Texas Steak Ranch and Hotel on I-40 in Amarillo. It was real sweet to see those brothers united. Baby would be glad to tell you 'bout it, but he ain't said much since Amarillo and he don't seem a bit sleepy neither. The Lawrd works in mysterious ways, don't He?
