I really kick ass bad day

This is a message to the women folk of my family. And may I just say that I can talk like that because I reside in the farmland of our luscious land surrounded by soy, tobacco, sweet potatoes, cotton, farmers, pigs, cows, tractors driven by 10 year olds that go 6 miles and hour so big you can’t pass and big large woman and lots of people with no teeth.
I know that you have all had bad days. May I just mention: escalators, biting dogs, funky hair colors, acting gay in front of your favorite movie star, Popeye pipes, a cat in a clothes dryer, slamming your car into a herd of deer (and killing Rudolph you bitch) to name a few.
One event made a day in my life the worse kick ass day of them all. I was left trembling and severely emotionally traumatized to the point where I almost had an out of body experience because my brain had to disengage itself from me and park at the local (40 miles away) Piggly Wiggly just to protect itself.
It was more horrific then slamming my beautiful truck into a Dodge Ram at 45 miles an hour and totaling it. I had to wait 3 days just to write about it because I am having a hard time controlling the flashbacks and nightmares as it is. I will probably, most likely, as sure as hell need therapy.
Because I am forced to divulge this historical horrific life altering living a nightmare event without any one besides my family of girlie girls knowing what it is I have to give you hints. They are as follows: (Let see who gets it first)

· EZ Tops (the band and I know I spelled it wrong (side effect)
· George Bush (BIG ass clue there)
· Move star, male, danced dirty, dressed in drag – no not him – wife
· Vodoo doll for above and what you did with the item below
· Brillo (the big large ass box you would probably purchase in Sam’s Club)
· European women who have never seen television
· Dreadlocks
· Pruning
· Snipping
· Whacking
· Weeding
Ok. Got it?
I did not want to be a part of this. I tried to hide. I pleaded and begged to no avail. Mommy had pruning equipment. Mommy is a dangerous and demented woman. Give her a sharp object and Charles Manson would quiver. When you see me on Thanksgiving you will see up close the damage done. The hollowed look, the dark circles under my eyes, the crying jags. Stock up on Folgers Deb, yes Pam, I will have that drink, Gina –I’ll need a macaroni pie, Stacy – tell us again your tale of meeting your most famous movie star and for the rest of her life she will think you are a lesbian, Jill – funny faces (and sounds) Amanda- an uplifting song and Brooke – chocolate (we killed the Godiva’s from Sanjaab and Puntapatel but I can always go for a Nestles Crunch Bar or Hummis if it’s on hand.