So out of nowhere (while I was wondering where B.J. had gone) she walked inside my house, which scared the f___ing Hell out of me (which was a personal first for sure). And lo and behold that doll and become a Rastafarian!
“Oh, s___ in a hand basket,” I screamed (like a Banshee). What does it take to get you to act normal, anyway? I have practically pulled out my hair and rolled around like a circle around the planet Earth (as though Saturn didn’t already have enough rings in the first place). However, will there ever be another Uranus?
And although Betty Jane seemed a tad shocked by my exclamation, then it occurred to her: Jeeeze, you know what: that old bitch really is my real little girl — so I think my next move is to become the oldest Young Republican, and that she did.
And that’s the story, y’all.