Good Morning Gentle Readers,
So, lately the House Blond has taken to what Col Hogan calls Music For Dumb People. He's apparently missed the finer points of CUH after three martoonis (when his cane don't work so good) and Jerry Jeff Walker belting out Up Against The Wall Redneck Mother and he's obviously never enjoyed a cold beer and a nicotine contact-high on a hot afternoon in the ambience of a smoky bar with Willie and Waylon, nor can he appreciate how much I Love This Bar touchs (defines?) a broad swath of Americana. Except for the Dixie Chicks, Babs (both of them, actually), Cindy Sheehan, and the anti-war crowd who all, to a man, figure the best part of Toby Keith got flushed yesterday. But, I digress.
Have to confess that it sets up an odd sort of discontent to hear seven-year-old Katie wandering around the place singing Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off. Not sure she should be watching the Honky Tonk Badonkadonk video either because all of us guys know exactly what Trace Adkins is saying. Exactly. Already warned her about that crap, I know, daddy, I know. Now shhhhhh, I can't hear the song.
Sure, she still loves Hillary Duff, but I'm telling you, it's almost time to lock her in the basement.
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