There's lots of things they don't tell you about moving. Stay with me on this, because I promise this shit will be funny.
Me saying that is sort of like someone saying they aren't a child anymore, right? If you have to say it, it ain't true.
If it was going to be funny, then I should get right to it. Not have to tell you I will be at some date in the future.
What if I did, though? Like, you guys, no shit, I'm gonna make you pee your dungarees laughing on March 24, 2018. Just wait.
You can bet on that.
Bet your ass that'll be the best week after Ides of March anyone ever had except the guy who was paid to clean the Roman place after they got done with Caesar.
I'm just saying they might not have had much job security back then. Guy sees all that blood and shit everywhere (think about Julius Caesar dying and his bowels evacuating… now), that guy sees that mess and he's like, Martha don't wait up. I'm gonna be here a while.
Must have felt sort of good, right?
Anyway. Moving. It's a mess.
I've moved five times in the last five years. From Mississippi to Virginia to Louisiana to Utah and now I'm in Idaho.
Let that sink in. A Southern boy in Idaho. This potato soup just got a little bit of bacon grease in it.
That wasn't the funny part. Just for you information, I'm not sure I'm going to get there at this point.
I had this whole thing about how I'm out of sorts, how my supplies are dwindling and I've pared down all my clothes and other items to fit in a small economy car. It was a goddamn riot.
I'm not just saying that.
I guess you have to be here.