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Tuesday, February 08, 2005 

A day with Wormwood Snagley

Ok Snagmeisters
This weekend I rode out to the old family farm in Perry County Alabama.
There is nothing in Perry County at all. If you wish to live in Perry County you have to expect an hour commute to work.
Anyway, I was riding out there with my nephew Wormwood. He recently got his drivers license so beware. He also recently discovered tobacco. He likes to load that lip up with snuff so that he looks like a chimpanzee sucking on a rock. But his latest thing is cigars. Big ol stink ones. The kind I like to smoke on poker night. So he pukes alot. He does this to look cool.
He wanted to look cool with the old Unk Bo and smoke as he drove in my new used truck. He reeks of dufas.
We were fly fishing one day for bream. Since I am the Uncle I have to harass him about what he is going to do with his life. I told him I think that we have a responsibility to God, County, family. He explained, no that is not correct, his ideas is that we all have a responsibility to acquire for him a car, and maybe a girl friend, but first a car. Dufas.
Sorry, I got side tracked. We were driving my new used truck; we were running out of fuel. So I told him to stop at the filling station so that we can fuel up. I went inside to pay while he pumped the gas. I look out and saw my dufas nephew spilling gas all over his shirtsleeve and my new used truck. I am now in the store cursing and jumping up and down. I step outside and yell at him, making a fool out of myself. I then step back inside get a cold drink out of the cooler and watch dufas finish pumping the gas.
Dufas at this point without washing his hands gets back in my new used truck fouling the inside with the smell of gasoline. DUFAS. He then starts to pull around to pick me up, lighting his cigar. The gasoline on Dufas’s sleeve, true to its nature, ignites. He sticks his left arm out of the window, and speeds up thinking that the wind will blow the fire out. DUFAS.

He gets about ¼ of a mile down the road and is arrested by the county sheriff.
The sherrif reminded me of Buford T. Justice.
As he hauled Wormwood's teenage butt off to jail I heard him say.