I was not alone out there. I'd seen the sky-- and have lived here long enough to know that it's get the camera now or forget about it. Apparently, Miss M has learned the same. I walked out to the driveway with my camera to find Miss M perched on the bumper of the truck taking pictures with her phone.
And speaking of not being alone... . Daughter C, Mr. Big Food and I chatted about Aliens after dinner. Art Bell's name came up. As did, of course, a number of sci-fi plot twists. And this.
And because the Farm has a culture all its own, we all said good night while hollering out lines from the Mojo Nixon classic, Take me to your leader.
|I'm running out of no cussing allowed patience.|
I find this unbelievable. So unbelievable that I'm not even going to bastardize the lyrics (much) by recalling them from memory. Surely they are out there somewhere.
Did I take him to New York City? NO!It is my subjective opinion that searching the World Wide Web is becoming less and less productive. You cannot tell me that the lyrics to this song are not out there. Even if you don't know who Mojo Nixon is, I could show you that he's well known among a large subset of folks and has-- given that he's channel 60 (I think) of Sirius XM-- achieved mainstream status. And yet the lyrics to this song don't come up in an intelligently searched Bing or Google search.
Did I take him to Moscow? NO!
Hell. I didn't even take him to Memphis. Ooooh!
I took 'em down to North Carolina. To a sleepy little town called Mayberry. And in that town... drunk... O.T.I.S. Otis is the very best!
Something's going on here and I don't know what it is. Do you, Mr. Jones?
Cue Twilight Zone music.