IN THE CUSTODY OF BUDWEISER

The title of this post is taken from a poem I wrote looooong ago. I still like it.

I'm not drinking Budweiser today. I'm drinking cheap beer. But I'm kinda soused and I like the feeling. Beer is Truth Serum. I can say whatever I want without any regrets.

Many thanks to the four (count 'em) courageous (not to mention discerning) people  who liked the piano video on my previous post. I kinda liked it, too.

Speaking of people - -
I happened to notice (within the past month) that several people who loathe me are still reading my blog.

Question:
Should I be flattered.......or worried?? 

I have my own theory.

Psssst! Come closer so I can whisper this. It'll just be between you and me.

I think these people are waiting for me to mention something about politics - - so they can pounce on me again.

Remember in October, 2016 when I said that Hillary was a jackass and would never win the Presidential election?
Well, I was right. And they never got over it.

Moral of the story?
Listen to your Uncle Johnny. He's seldom wrong.

It's amazing what a few cheap beers can do to inflate my ego.
In my own mind, I'm even more fascinating than usual.

I'll change the subject now - - for the very few people who are still reading this post.

I drove to town last Monday. It was a gorgeous day (after weeks of Biblical rain). No problems at all this time around. I had a nice day.....

.....until I got home. I accidentally left Swiss Cheese in the (hot) trunk of my car for about three hours. 
The cheese looks (and smells) okay. If I don't drop dead after I eat it, everything will probably be good.

Also - -
I accidentally bought LOW FAT milk instead of regular milk.
I absolutely HATE low fat milk. It tastes like water and serves no purpose whatsoever.
What the hell is the reason for extracting fat from the milk?? Will it supposedly make us live longer?

I despise anything decaffeinated, low fat, low sodium, or sugar-free. It's the health nut's way of sapping all the pleasure out of our lives.

You can eat twigs and lotus flowers if you so desire. As for me - I want to OD on sugar, salt, and heavy cream.

So, what else is interesting around here?
Today is our final sunny day. Rain is predicted tomorrow and for the rest of the week.

I hope your week is dry. 
And absent of all collusion.

GOIN' TO TOWN

I suppose it could also be titled Comin' Home From Town, but that's beside the point.

One of my favorite Mae West movies is called Goin' to Town, but that's beside the point, too.

I've been trying to exude a brave countenance but I'll be brutally blunt:
the long, dangerous drive into town still scares the living jeeters out of me. I've never gotten used to it. The impossibly narrow, endlessly winding mountain roads put the "F" into Frozen Fear. Not to mention those perilous cliffs.

There are times when I procrastinate for a week before I can summon the courage to embark on the harrowing journey. And then I have to be reinforced with two or six beers. Being soused not only rekindles my courage, it makes me drive faster.

Yea, I know. All of you teetotalers are in a panic from reading this. Hell, when I lived in Texas I was drunk continuously. Here in Tennessee I'm only drunk when I drive to town.

I'm making progress. When I first moved here it took me half an hour to drive to town. Now, on a clear day, it takes anywhere from fifteen to twelve minutes - - depending on how often I don't use the breaks.


The worst part is when I happen to get a logging truck in front of me (no passing is allowed). The last time this happened the truck was crawling about eight miles an hour. Took me an hour to get to town.

And then there are the tailgaters. If I'm driving 75 MPH the tailgater will be on my ass going 95. I always pull over when I can and let them pass.

It's inevitably a woman. In an SUV. Talking on a cell phone. With six kids in the back seat.

I'm going to be mercilessly blunt and say something that most men wouldn't dare admit: women are the most aggressive drivers on earth. When they get behind the wheel they develop Penis Power and all of their pent-up hostilities suddenly surface.

This is an innocent generalization, of course. I know that none of you charming female bloggers would ever do this.

Hey, Jon - don't you ever get nasty and aggressive when you're drunk?

Nope. Drunk or sober, I'm a sweetheart. The only time I get aggressive is when I want to get to know somebody better......

Speaking of intoxication, did I ever mention how difficult it is to get liquor here? They only sell beer in one store. At an inflated price. Only beer. Nothing else. I'd have to grow my own vineyard and get my own grape press in order to have wine. 

The Baptists rule in Tennessee (and in Texas). There's a Baptist church every ten feet but no booze. You'd think someone would summon Jesus and demand him to turn the water into wine......

All right, Jon, stop being a wise guy.

I know I've risked losing my blog followers (all three of them). The Baptists are miffed. The women are pissed. Hell, I hope I haven't offended the heathen gays.

I was laughing as I wrote that. My wildly wicked past would make heathen gays look like Shirley Temple.

Are you a heathen gay, Jon?

Let's just say that I'm a happy heathen. 

I was drunk yesterday and I'm still under the spell of the lingering effects of alcohol. It takes a while to wear off. It's nearly 5:00 AM as I'm writing this, and I'm sort of between days. Didn't sleep much and haven't yet woken up......

I finally bought porch paint yesterday and I plan to paint my two porches this week.

Did you ever notice that all paints are carefully categorized and have a specific purpose nowadays? 
There's porch paint and floor paint, ceiling paint, indoor wall paint, house paint exterior, fence paint, cement paint, environmentally friendly paint, rain-proof paint, sunlight-resistant paint.....WTF?????

Does anybody remember the good old days when you simply bought a can of lead-based paint and a brush?

 Anxiously awaiting a coat of paint.

This pic was taken a few months ago. The trees are now lush and green and the weeds are nearly up to the roof.