He had duct tape stuck to his torso. A neighbor explained that some wildlife management people had managed to get it on shore the day before. "The damned gator had a six pack of beer duct taped to its back" he explained. They freed the beer and much of the duct tape the day before, but then the gator got mad and escaped back in the bayou. What I'm longing to understand are the crucial moments that lead up to the gator having a six pack duct taped to it. What is the procession of thoughts that lead up to the conclusion: "I know what we need to do! Jimmy, get your dad's gator. Billy, get the duct tape. Hank, hand me that six pack in the FEMA trailer's fridge. We boys gonna have an old fashioned gator beer boogaloo!"
3 comments:
This is too good to be real.
OMG, you're turning into...um...me. Great post Perfesser.
Rednecks in Mid-City. I suspected this all along!!!
Fondly,
Your Uptown Snob
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