So, It's Gonna Be 25?

"Don't forget, you also have a big johnson."

-Me (to Bald-O's dad in a slightly fancy restaurant)

One of the most treasured talents I have is taking a person's joke and re-directing it back at them. It's fun to witness an older man suddenly go red in the face and look around to see who heard what I just said. When Bald-O's dad walked up to me to ask, "Have you seen my Big Johnson?" what he really meant was his tape measure of that name. I laughed because I pretty much already knew what he was talking about thanks to having already seen the tape measure while sitting there waiting on the shelves being put up. I even added my own joke for good measure by pointing out that it goes up to 16 feet. Well, as all men like to say in discussion on their johnsons, it was probably 25. Don't you, girls, just love penis discussions?

It was in the restaurant that I was asked about my mother's age after telling Bald-O's mom about the cancer issue and surgery on the 29th. Bald-O's dad is the same age and it was my need for saying stupid shit that then blurted out the above statement. It was so beautiful to see a tanned face get much redder, Bald-O laughing hard, and his mom not quite getting the joke right away. Just a warning. I remember jokes you tell me and I have an amusing mouth.

To be honest, I'm terribly tired due to going to bed around 4am. Bald-O can drink, drink, and drink for long hours than I wish to tell about. It's not my lifestyle, making it my sole reason for living by staring at the empty bottom of a beer can. My cool is kept when I get to sit down in a comfy chair with an accoustic guitar. I make my own music. I may not know how to play but Bald-O says I just might be a natural because I came up with sounds he and his little brother were trying to match all night.

For such a shit day, it's not surprising. Go to bed around 4am, find it impossible to sleep in the middle of the living room floor and the comfy chairs. Get up around 8am and decide that the 2 hours and 45 minutes of driving home must be done now or I'll overthink myself. Come home to find that my dog, Ellie-Mae, died this morning. I've had a shit day and I should be sleeping.

Well, I can't even if my body is screaming for me to get all my clothes off (No, I don't look in the mirror to witness my gorgeous penis) and hit the pillow. My dog is very much missed right now. You can already see the pain my mother is going through thanks to her sidekick's leaving. Naps were taken together between those two. 5-Pound Phooey finds it best to place her buttocks on my shoulder during mine.

I could tell you lots of stuff that I've learned over my visit down south. Some good and some bad keep playing tricks with my mind. Don't get me wrong. Bald-O's one of the best friends a guy can have but it's like I was telling his mother.

"He needs to know there is more than just strippers and beer."

I laughed when Bald-O told his mother about what I told him Sara did at the strip joint she and I went with friends. Somehow, the possibility of a civilian woman taking her top off and showing her breasts is so foreign in a building where many women are already topless. Individuals that don't realize how there are some people very open to things other than alcohol make me laugh. To think, I should have been not accepting of Sara baring her breasts? Hells no! I'm all for humans showing their body parts, tits and all, in a stable environment if it pleases them. Don't get me wrong. If someone grabbed Sara's breasts or tried to feel her up, I'd get very, very angry.

So, I am going to head on up. Yes, I've given in and feel a real need to sleep now after spending the whole day in a haze. Ellie-Mae's death and my not-so-good driving due to tiredness has me ready to go. We'll talk Southern-style tomorrow. I'm going to miss my Ellie-Mae and, yes, I cried today. Such a mess I've become. Happy twats all around.