My Good Ol' Boy

My Hubs is without a doubt, the smartest, most tenacious person I know.  Whereas I'm easily distracted and don't suffer the least bit of angst at failing to solve a problem, he's the opposite.  He NEVER gives up.  If he goes to bed thinking about a problem, more often than not, the solution will awaken him before dawn.

Where I read fiction to relax, he delves into highly technical articles for kicks.  This man solves differential equations in his head.   Ask him about thermodynamics or fluid dynamics.  He'll tell you more than you ever wanted to know.

But, there is one thing he does that totally contradicts his intelligence....

Something that drives.  Me.  Crazy.

Does he channel surf?  Sure.  But, that's no biggee.  The problem is that no matter how fast he flips, if he catches a glimpse of one particular show, he ALWAYS stops.  No sometimes about it.  ALWAYS.  Surely with all those smarts it's a documentary or program on the science or history channel, right?

Nope.  My brainiac husband stops at the....Dukes of Hazard.  The.  Dukes. Of. Fucking. Hazard.

Just'a good ol' boys

Never meanin' no harm.

The opening lines of the theme song call to him like the Sirens' song.  Snaring his attention, causing his thumb to freeze over the remote.  Everything comes to a halt.  It's the damnedest thing I've ever seen.  As he watches, he snickers and laughs like a five-year-old boy.

Blows.  My.  Mind.

If I'm being totally honest, I'll admit that I'd be less disturbed if I walked in on him watching clown porn than Bo and Luke battling Boss Hogg for the umpteenth time. 

My theory is that Hubs' love of this moronic show is simply a release.  A time when he's able to give all of his brain cells a rest.  No deep plot to follow.  No complicated dialog to consider.  A reminder of the carefree days of childhood.

Back when he was single with no crazy wife to blog about him!

I guess you have to laugh!

Bigfoot BS

Have you heard?  Bigfoot's corpse is on tour.  Yep.  When it comes to a location near you, you can take a gander at the remains for $20.  Here's a photo of the anatomically correct corpse that was released from the exhibit:

Used car salesman and self-proclaimed Master Bigfoot Tracker, Rick Dyer, says he lured the creature in by nailing a rack of ribs to a tree.  Where can you get ribs tasty enough to tempt a sasquatch?  According to Dyer, Wal-Mart's the place.  I wonder if he'll add "Master Baiter" to his resume for this feat....

No footage of the legendary beast tearing into those ribs though.  Sounds fishy to me.  I don't know any hunter who would lure a trophy beast without setting up a game camera to capture it.

Any pictures of Dyer posed with his bounty after the kill?  Nope.  I have lived in the South my entire life, so I can say this with absolute certainty:  No redneck worth his Skoal would kill Bigfoot and not have a photo of himself smiling from ear-to-ear beside the carcass. That hairy son of a bitch would be thrown in a truck and driven around town until everybody and his brother had a picture of themselves posing next to it.

No mention of all the meat that would have been harvested from the beast either.  It's a rare hunter who will let a harvested animal of any kind go to waste.  My pal Skeeter would've had that thing processed and in her freezers in no time.  In addition to being an avid hunter, Skeeter is the Crock-Pot Queen.  (She has at least four that I know of and I wouldn't be surprised if she had backups.)  I can assure you, she'd have all her crocks working overtime on some squatch roast.

I call bullshit on this Bigfoot claim all the way around.  But, I have to ask....  Am I the only one who assumed even a fake Bigfoot would have a dwanger bigger than a cocktail wienie?  I would've thought it would be more in the Polska Kielbasa range.  At the very least, a BallPark Frank....