Wednesday, August 30, 2006

A story about stats

One day, many, many years ago, a young man was walking to work where he did, among other things, yellowjacket extermination. He was walking that day because his sore ear earbud motorcycle was in the shop. He was dreading another day of swatting flies and hoped that the day would be busier than yesterday. To take his mind off of work, while he walked along he daydreamed. What do young redneck men daydream about? Well, I'm sure that some dream about owning their very own redneck video game, but most, I think, dream about redneck hoes, especially if they have a garden. Hey, if you're going to garden you might as well have a redneck hoe, right? I would hope that he never dreamed about drugged redneck women. Because that's just wrong.

Later on that day he was thinking of senior baby picture sayings for yearbook because he sure didn't want his baby picture saying to be like everybody else's. He wanted to be different! After hours and hours of thinking he finally decided on, "Yeah, we're divas, but we ride like big boys do." To each his own, right?

After work he met up with his girlfriend at the fat waist roller coaster across town. He could see her off in the distance, waiting for him. How did he know it was his girlfriend? Because she had had depo-provera and was fat in hips. Poor thing. But he loved her and even though he tried to be a gentleman, he frequently thought about her panties falling down. He also hoped that one day she would agree to be his wife and they could buy redneck bedding together.

His best friend, Eric Church, was supposed to meet up with them that evening, but he had heard that Eric was sweat bee sting reaction allergic, so there was a possibility they'd spend the evening just the two of them. What better way to say goodbye to summer? The evening went on and his friend never showed, so they sat under a tree and talked about their future together. They discussed the redneck sayings they wanted included in their wedding vows ("I do, by cracky!") and how they both hoped to someday own a drunk teen video blogspot. They snuggled under the tree, her lying in his arms and just before she drifted off to sleep she murmured, "picture baby copperhead" and he knew that his life was perfect.


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Just for the record, no I haven't been drinking this morning - just checking stats. The bolded words in the story are all keyword searches that have led people to me recently. What people, you ask? Well, the folks from the Texas Dept of Agriculture seem to like me, as well as someone from the State of Arkansas and ConocoPhillips. I feel so loved! Of course, the 40 gazillion hits from North Carolina let me know that my family down there loves me, even though ol' Ernesto be knockin' at their doors. I know who visits me repeatedly from Sitton Motor Lines, Inc. (Hi, Cedric!) and I have a pretty firm fan base at NEO A&M College, as well. The Medical Center of Central Georgia isn't visiting because I give out great medical advice, I hope. That would be very scary. And whoever's visiting me from Erickson Retirement Communities just lets me know that I appeal to all ages and that gives me a warm fuzzy. I just hope that the folks at Michelin Tire Corp. aren't looking to make me their new model or anything.

2 comments:

Hillbilly Mom said...

Um...helloooo? The retirement communtiy called. They want their uniboob back.

Stewed Hamm said...

If they're spending all day reading blogs, it's got to be one of those retirement homes I saw on the news. Therefore, I think it's the chefs looking for some new van turkey recipies.