I have officially lost what's left of my mind...
I just got home from Bucks, walked in the door, scrolled through the TV listings and settled on and AM TAPING....
Hee Haw. God help me. (More about the reason for the trip to Bucks later. And, yeah, it was for what I always said I'd hafta go there for, but what PROMTED the trip is... ugh. Has to do with (looooong string of expletives deleted) kids.) And, now they're singing the "Gloom, despair and agony on me" song, so, I'm outta here for now. Back later. *puff, puff, pass... to my other hand* Peace *'bout an hour later* Oh, Criminy...Wille friggin' Nelson WITH SHORT HAIR!!!
No beard, no moustach, same annoying, whiny, nasal voice, though. God, help me again, I can't STAND Willy.
My stupid mother once bitched at me to turn my stereo down when I had Dwight Yoakam blasting.
Said he was too "nasal-y" for her to bear. I said, "This, from a person who listens to Willie-The Nostril-Nelson?", with a rasied eyebrow. Then, I half-rolled my eyes and sighed "Right" at 'er. She laughed.
So did I. It was only times like that, that we really got along.
Being smartassed/funny/whatever. 'Course, I also remember where in the house she lived in with Bob that we had this conversation, so it was long after she'd "graduated" from my boyfriends...
(Can ya tell we (Hee Haw, hence me, hence ya'll) have gone to commercial?) Anyway, back to my utterly-one-sided-'cause-he-ain't-home IM "conversation" with Paul.
“Gloom, despair and agony on me
Deep, dark depression
Excessive misery
If it weren't for bad luck
I'd have no luck at all
Gloom, despair and agony on me”
*slithers outta chair, laughing*
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