They say a wedding day is the happiest of your life; the start of a new journey as the two of you head down life’s road, into the sunset, hand in hand … but this is country, so the road is long, the journey is pain, and your hand is reaching for the nearest gun.
The country wedding, therefore, is the beginning of the end, just as it is here in our story of vows, vacations, and violence. If only they’d stayed in sweet home U.S.A instead of flying out to the land of scones and survivable weapons crime.
So, pull up a space on the porch swing and kick back … maybe you could even play along on your banjo? When you’ve done that, like, share with your friends, and perhaps leave us a comment or two while you’re at it (we don’t mind if you have to take the time to learn to read first).
If you shoot on down the page a ways you can listen yourself up some proper geetar, or maybe grab a piece of that there MP3 to enjoy as you’re shifting a load of stolen iPods down the I-24, with one hand on the wheel and the other reaching for a Busch (it’s okay – it’s not real beer).
Lock and load …
* May contain one or more words that your nan would not be a fan of
© Copyright 2013 Intermittent Explosive Disorder