Like a Fungus
I came to a startling realization last night: Texas is growing on me. I know that sounds crazy, imagine how it sounded in my head. Think Charlton Heston mixed with Woody Woodpecker. I should really invest in speech therapy for the voices in my head.
While Sam and I are from Florida, we are becoming more Texan every day. We have a big SUV, ok so it’s a Honda. Sam now owns a pair of real boots. Sure they were cheap, but a cow gave its life for her feet.
What’s next? Hats? Belt buckles? Muddin’? I draw the line at Lone Star beer.
Ok, off to deep fry something.