Son of Hillbilly
Ham Part II
I was lucky last time. I didn't know this until now. I wish I had more
photo documentation besides this harmless entry below, with Hillbilly
Ham II smiling that "Luke
Smile" as if alls well and things are as they're meant
to be. Note to self, when Michael asks you to come over to help with some
amp testing, and casually mentions taking a peak in the attic to see
his Christmas Surprise, kindly decline while holding lower back, grabbing
testicles, miming toothache, ANYTHING it takes to keep from ascending
What that swine is not telling you is how close I came to relieving my
own bowels on the ancient attic ladder, this when met with Son of Hillbilly
I, angry as a hornet on a tennis racquet, wanting to enact revenge for
Papa Hillbilly's disappearance.
Let's just say that Son of Hillbilly I did not have that Luke Smile.
Son of Hillbilly I looked like Satan's Aunt Lucifus, angry about gas prices,
the lack of victuals, and the loss of his beloved Papa.
I could go on and tell you about how I descended the ladder with calm
élan, or lie some more about my cordial chat with Sir Swart, but
we've got too many things going on around here for idle chatter. I've
got NEWS to write, places to go, deals to make... Ok, maybe I don't want
to desecrate the memory of Son of Hillbilly Ham: I am only praying he
found his papa on 23rd Street. Actually, I'm praying to any God that will
listen that Hillbilly Ham Senior was not close to Mrs. Hillbilly Ham.
The mere vision gives me strange sensations down low.
I don't even want to think about it...