Damn It Toad!

If you don’t come back at once I’m gonna go on a promiscuity strike. Or is that a celibacy strike? Either way it ain’t gonna be good and the end result will be on your hands. This blog holiday-sabbatical cannot be THAT intriguing. Perhaps restorative to a degree but really-how much restorative luddite-ish escape does a man of your constitution require?

Ok, now that we’ve done another Toad Taunt-let’s touch on some additional Trad Impertinence. Want to?

I was NOT kidding when I told you that I gave my GTH pants to Aunt Tootie.

Here she is at Wal-Mart-picking up a few things for the weekend. Ham Hocks, Pickled Pig’s Feet, Slim Jims (for me), Glory Brand canned collard greens and a few other odds and ends.

Yellow Cords…I mean really. Not sure why y’all had such a craving for them. I’ll sell 'em to ya for a thousand million dollars-LFG set the price. Take it up with her.

Now on to the latest Orvis catalogue I received. I’m not a hat guy-much beyond a baseball topper. However the cover shot shows a four hat mélange that has a fetching wool-plaid hat sandwiched therein. They call it the Stormy Kromer.

Now I suppose if I lived in Michigan or Wisconsin or somewhere similar-I’d be sportin a Stormy Kromer. Nice enough looking hat I suppose. On further perusal though-something just wasn’t quite right.

I began to feel a little bit “all overish” while pondering this head warmer. Then it hit me. The Stormy Kromer is channeling way too much Ed Gein for me.

And finally-my latest intrigue courtesy of Sky Mall. The Dog Genealogy Kit. I’m from South Carolina. My own family tree seems to peter out at about 1957. Hardly enough tree for said doggie to hike a leg on.

Onward.


ADG....and the "G" ain't Gein.