Southern-Fried Blues...

This is a far more palatable explanation for my angst today, the unpleasant alternative being that I have to drive to The Land Of The Dueling Banjos tomorrow to talk to my meth-addicted father about the recent drug raid on the old family farm, his (and my sister’s) pending felony charges, and his expressed intent to deed my great-grandparents’ farm to his newfound love, a meth-cooking skank about 30 years his junior.