(No subject)

[Guest guest]

Hmmmmmm!!! What say you about this one??? Personally I think it's cute. Love Ardie Joe how are you doing? Was the trip home after the funeral a rough one or were you feeling stronger every day? Let us know how things are with you, all of you. Love Ardie

Subject: Bandaids

A good-ole redneck boy staggered home late after another evening with

his drinking buddies. Shoes in left hand to avoid waking his wife,

he tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their

upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step in the darkened

entryway.

As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around

and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back

pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.

Managing to suppress a yelp, he sprung up, pulled down his pants and

examined his lacerated and bleeding cheeks in the mirror of a nearby

darkened hallway, then managed to find a large full box of band aids

before proceeding to place a patch as best he could on each place

he saw blood.

After hiding the now almost empty box, he managed to shuffle and

stumble his way to bed. Morning, he awakens with screaming pain in

head and butt to find his wife staring at him from across the room, and

hears her say: " You were drunk again last night!!! "

Forcing himself to ignore his agony, he looked meekly at her and

replied: " Now Hon, why would you say such a mean thing? "

" Well, " she said, " there is the front door left open, the broken

whiskey bottle glass at the bottom of the stairs, the drops of blood

trailing through the house, your bloodshot eyes, and all that blood in the

bed, but mostly....

it's all those band aids stuck on the downstairs mirror. "