First I ate as many of their olives as I could, in good conscience eat without looking a little odd, standing over there by the martini poo-poo platter without a glass. Then I drank some water and a Diet Coke. Because in doing so, I could reassure my parents (hello out there!) that I didn't just come here and act like a fool... NOW I have moved on to a loverly flute filled with Piper-Heidsieck--a fancy bubbling stuff which tastes a helluva lot better than the Asti Spumanti I bought for $10 from the Hearne Brookshire Brothers on New Year's Eve.
Yea for the web cam on my low-end netbook, which worked then didn't work and now is working again. this means that I can provide photo evidence of CCTT: Country Come to Town. John is doing his best to act dignified as I, in my blissful boredom, play with the web cam and take pictures like these...
See? It's not only me.
Ohhh...goodies, goodies, goodies...
Holding one's webcam in one's lap does not for nice chin pictures make.
BUBBLES ON THE CEILING!
LMAO - wish I was there with you!!!
ReplyDelete"Tramp!
ReplyDeleteWhat you call me?
Tramp.
You didn't!
You don't wear continental clothes, or Stetson hats.
Well I tell you one dog-gone thing. It makes me feel good to know one thing. I know I'm a lover.
Matter of opinion.
That's all right, Mama was. Papa too. And I'm the only child. Lovin' is all I know to do.
You know what, Otis?
What?
You're country.
That's all right.
You straight from the Georgia woods.
That's good.
You know what? You wear overalls, and big old brogan shoes, and you need a haircut, Tramp.
Haircut? Woman, you foolin'...ooh...I'm a lover. Mama was. Grandmama, Papa too. Boogaloo. All that stuff. And I'm the only son-of-a-gun this side of the Sun. Tramp!
You know what, Otis? I don't care what you say, you're still a tramp.
What?
That's right. You haven't even got a fat bankroll in your pocket. You probably haven't even got twenty-five cents.
I got six Cadillacs, five Lincolns, four Fords, six Mercuries, three T-Birds, Mustang, ooooooohhh...I'm a lover. Mama was. Papa too. I tell you one thing.
Well tell me.
I'm the only son-of-a-gun this side of the Sun.
You're a tramp, Otis.
No I'm not.
I don't care what you say, you're still a tramp.
What's wrong with that?
Look here. You ain't got no money.
I got everything.
You can't buy me all those minks and sables and all that stuff I want.
I can buy you minks, rats, frogs, squirrels, rabbits, ...anything you want, Woman.
Look, you can go out in the Georgia woods and find them, Baby.
Oh, you foolin'.
You're still a tramp.
That's all right.
You a tramp, Otis. You just a tramp.
That's all right.
You wear overalls. You need a haircut, Baby. Cut off some of that hair off your head. You think you a lover, huh?"
- O.R.
I can't keep this song out of my head!