Mother Puss Bucket
Last night I went to bed about 2 a.m. after watching Smokey and the Bandit. I just woke up a few minutes ago to the sound of a Carolina country boy pounding on and tearing off the rain gutters of my building. Since I had no chance but to be awake I picked up snippets of their conversation. The one on the ladder who was making biggest ruckus expressed concern over the power lines and referred to the other vernacularly as "son."
As I laid in bed, my required eight hours of sleep hopelessly shattered I prayed to Jebus that they would go away. I was forced into prayer for one reason only: I do not have a gun.
Here is one of them