sweatin the small stuff
In honor of the "30th National Biker's Roundup", I offer a repost from Cousin Erma.
It’s me again, Cousin Erma logging on from Sturgis!
I guess we’ll all be heading back home early Saturday morning right after breakfast. I’ll be glad to get back home to Matador cause I’m here to tell you what?
Biker’s? They be nasty, like last night I was told I was gonna go on a train ride? Well, that weren’t no train, no sir, not at all.
All I can say is good thing I’m in shape from having to walk up to the prison every day to go to work.
Wooo, them boys tried their darnest to wear me out, but hell, and excuse my French, I do more then that on Saturday nights back home when daddy gets into the whiskey cabinet. Old bastard.
But at least they were all friendly and stuff, the way they all stood in line waiting they turn.
I did get a chance to go see Mount Rushmore, very impressive. Though on the ride back my weave fell out, I guess it got loosened from all the tussling that went on the night before.
I like riding on the back of a bike, except when the biker feller be stinking and all. I pays no mind to the wind or the bugs and riding on the back of one is just like sitting on a big ole vibrator.
Oops, excuse my French again, that wasn’t very lady like. But when you gots all that stank flowing back over you, it kind’a sours the butter if you know what I mean. Cause my eyes be watering and my nose gets all closed up and it just be hard breathing and stuff.
That’s why I like riding with the chapero biker’s from back home, cause they be smelling sweet and stuff. You know with them being cowboy sissies and all.
Except when we pull into truck stops to eat? Them pink Harley’s they ride tend to attract more attention then a Kansas city faggot at a rodeo.
But they’s some good ole boys, like Greg always say, happier then a retard with a snow cone, and prettier then a new cow.
And speaking of snow cones? You can keep that snowballin because that just ain’t right.
You never hear of anybody back home in Matador doing anything like that. Well, I gots to be going now, I done signed myself up for some mud wrestling cause we can use the gas money and all.
So ya’ll be good now and maybe when I come up to Kansas City for Christmas I’ll ask Greg to let me log on so as to say hi.
"and the monkey flipped the switch"