Next Stop New York

I'd like to give a holler out to my new friends in the New York. I was sure surprised when I learnt that you was reading what I had to say. I thought I was just reportin what was gong on in the Burny Tree, but since you might notta been to these parts I won't bore you with that. I'll tell you about our recent road trip.

 

Me and the misses (she said to quit calling her that; she ain't missing nuthin') decided to go see our god-son Earlie (named after his pappy, Big Earl, Sr). We wanted to go see him before Earlie got growed up as big as his brother Big Earl, Jr.

Anywho, we got out the telly phone, and dialed up the Greyhound hoping we could reserve a seat on the bus and they just happened to have two available. How do you like that? We felt like we won the crackpot.

Little Mae June (or "M.J." is what I call her for affection)decided to go get to the store as soon as they opened so's she had a new outfit for the trip. She was so excited that she backed out the Eldorado and thowed it into drive before it ever come to a complete stop. Talk about squealing out of there.

She always wanted to be a lady race car driver so here is what she is always practicing hoping someone will spot her like they do them people they make models. At the stop light when there is some snotty-nosed kids next to her she revs it up, whhilst keeping her foot on the brake. It starts rocking and smoking and when the light turns green and she takes her foot off that brake away she goes leaving them sitting there in the dust. I tell you what, nobody is gonna beat her to the good parking spot down to the mall, when she makes up her mind. 


I told her to not be smoking them tars on the Eldorado. Dweeb Jr. sold em racing slicks to me. Now Dweeb Sr, his uncle said he thinks they is really just bald tars.  I think Dweeb Sr. is just just jealous that his nephew Dweeb Jr is one of them entrepmanures. 



It din't take MJ long to come back with everthing you could imagine to make up a whole outfit in lots of shades of turquoise.   That nice salesman lady told her that she had one of them bodies that wearing them pants remind her of an ice cream cone. That musta set off the saleman lady to thinking about food because she started mumbling about Col. Sander thighs. MJ said she  guess thats all them skinny people think about is food they don't get to eat. And before she could get out of the store she noticed that people kep staring and staring  probably to steal her fashion idears theirselves.


I had been wearing my pocket tee shirt so I only had to pack my blue shirt and a pair of drawers in a plastic Wal-Marts bag and we was ret to go see the world for a couple of weeks. MJ took hers in a Hefty bag but she prolly din't want me to tell you she uses a Hefty for all her curlers and makeup and other unmentionables.


We took pictures in front of each of the bus stations with all the  new friends we made on the buss. MJ she promised to write each and ever one of them. She made herself a address book out of a Braum Dairy sack that someone left on the bus. Little MJ (Em Jay, I sometimes spell it) anyways, Em Jay use the clean side of that sack, drawed lines as straight as she could while we was flyng down the highway at 100 miles per hour, singing "99 bottles of beer on the wall" and she made that address book to keep all them new friends names in. 


I keep wandering about when we'd see the greyhound who's picture is on the side of all them busses. We wanted a picture of us with that ol boy. But between you, me and the fence post I suspicion he is anorexic; he's so scrawny or maybe he just need to be wormed.    

I'm tuckered out so will write you more later about the sites we seen on our vacation.