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dodging the bullet
Well ya'll...we survived another tornado festival yesterday. Me and BG and all of our critters weathered the storms right here at home and didn't even have to go to the basement! Lucky us. Lucky BG and her girls are gone to Memphis to see Santana and others perform at the Beale Street Music Festival tonight. Me? I'm just enjoying a night alone at Casa Poops. After I paid the propane guy and the landlord, I had enough left over to go to the Dollar General for new granny panties and socks. Then I splurged at the feed store on some herbs and a few flowers plus one sweet potato vine and some good dirt. I b***ged about that feed store one time over at The Dew.

Speaking of The Dew I posted over there today about The Bluebird Cafe in Nashville. My friend the future hit writer and singer Layne Wrye has played in the round there on occasion. Originally from Paris (not France) he and his band played at Bubba's club back in the Midnight Rodeo days and I was astounded at the talent on stage that night. He brought all his rowdy friends with him and the show was fantastic. I do so love me some good music.

The day job is still perking right along with many "opportunities for improvement" and much drama. It's my weekend off, so we'll leave that topic alone for now. Let's just say things are lookin' up. Me and kweens like to meet out on the patio at the kudzu bar on ladies night to sip dollar beer and catch up when we can fit it into our hectic schedules. This past Thursday we settled in at our table and before we knew it, all hell broke loose. You would have had to be there to appreciate the drama, but it will make a good story in my future book. Smartass rednecks, bikers to the rescue and one mighty pissed off Beverly. Somebody's always got to act up and spoil our fun. What they don't know is that redneck friend is just dying to shoot somebody and they could be next.

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