Finally Out of Jail

Well that there family reunion will probably go down as the wildest Judd family reunion ever. God damn that Brody forgot to come but I guess those Pagels are nothin' but dirty bastards anyway. Probably afraid I was a 'gonna beat him in the race. Well it didn't quite get that far anyway.

Old Uncle Roy Judd done got himself some kind of cancer of the lung we're guessin'. He ain't goin' to no doctor none, figure they'll just tell him to quit smokin'. So this looks like it might end up bein' old Roy's last reunion. Boy he may be dyin' but he's old for a Judd at 46 years old. My old man didn't make it past 38 none.

Well anyway, back to that there reunion. We was gettin' pretty drunk 'round the time we ate. I done set my smokes down on a picnic table so I could shoot at the old pickup in the yard. Then I went to go grab myself another smoke and they were gone.

Well last time somebody stole my smokes I ended up in jail. This time wasn't no different, as I found old Uncle Roy ran out of smokes himself and stole mine. So I pretty well went over there and beat up Uncle Roy with a steel fence post. Then what do ya know, his fuckin' daughter called the sheriff and then that got everybody mad because we was tryin' not to get the sheriff called this year. Well I got hauled in for assault and battery with a weapon and a couple other cousins got hauled in for disorderly conduct.

My cousin Elmer Judd done came and bailed me out and at least somebody brought my pickup and a bottle of whiskey for me when I got out. Had to get some racin' in back at the reunion. And I lost my buzz when I went to jail so I had to hit that whiskey pretty damn hard to get into drivin' condition.


Uncle Roy had to go to the hospital. Figure he's gonna die soon anyway, I'm just helpin' him along some.

I ended up gettin' into a second bottle of whiskey while I was drivin' around warmin' up my pickup for the race. Well I wasn't drivin' too straight. I figure my taxes pay for both sides of the road so I'll damn well use both when I'm drunk. Besides, I didn't stall my pickup at all so I wasn't too drunk to drive. Well Sheriff Festus didn't think I was drivin' to good none.

He put on his fuckin' cherries and berries and I made a run for it in my pickup. Didn't make it too far after I hit Mertyn Kleist's mailbox and hit the culvert. Done blew out a tire. Got charged with drunk drivin' fourth offense and evadin' an officer or some bullshit like that. Them cocksuckers told me I'll be sittin' in the clink for a while but I figure I just won't show up to court and it ought to go away.

Family Reunion This Weekend

Yep, it's 'bout that time of year I'm invitin' all the kin on out to my farm for a famiy reunion.

Last year's family reunion was like all others, as the sheriff had to be called and I don't expect this one to be much different none. Usually everyone shows up half drunk and by noon lunch everybody is pretty damn drunk. Me, I'm usually drunk from the night before anyway.

Suppose I better get my pickup all ready for the inevitable race. Bet my cousin Brody there ain't a gonna be slackin' off with his pickup. I gotta win that case of Blatz this year.

Ain't quite sure what we're gonna eat, maybe we done gotta go do ourselves some huntin' in order to do some eatin'. It ought to be a hell of a party, I tell you what.

Found Chubs, Tresspassing Confrontation

Well we done found that there Chubs tonight when we was huntin' deer on Cletus Neumann's land. Apparently after the fight on Saturday he done decided to go huntin' and has been clearin' that there woods of pretty of much all the animals.

Had about 12 deer, 8 turkey, 4 coyotes, and I swear on my bottle of Old Thompson about 200 squirrel. We was wonderin' why there wasn't nothin' to shoot because whenever the gang feels like shootin' some animals we head on over to Neumann's land.

Well then old Cletus done heard all the shootin' and I was guess we was pretty damn loud out there because we were all drunker than shit. He come on out with his shotgun but we pretty well had him beat until he called up all the Neumann cousins so we had to get the fuck out of there. Didn't even have time to get nothin' home and skin her up for supper so I had to go out to the barn and butcher my last chicken.

Fight

Well, I'll tell you what, it was just a normal night down at the tavern where I was gettin' pretty good'n'drunk on whiskey with the boys. Then out of nowhere comes in some fella wearin' these nice fancy clothes and cologne. If I was blacked out and didn't know where I was, I would've sworn I was in one of those god damned city taverns they call 'clubs'.

Well let me tell you, we don't appreciate none of them pretty boys comin' into our taverns. Either they are from the city or they wish they were from the city. So soon as he walked in me and the fellas decided he wasn't welcome at that tavern none. So we went and confronted him and right away he got onto one of those god damned cellulose phones or whatever the fuck they call them things and called up some more of his pretty boy friends. So naturally ole' Clem got into his pickup and got on the CB (a real communication device) and we got ourselves a posse together and we all met outside the tavern.

Anyway the fight was something else, after a case of broken beer bottles were broken over these fuckers' heads we had them scatterin' like a bunch of fuckin' city ass liberals like they are.

Since it was likely that the sheriff was being called, we had to move the party to my machine shed. Chubs must've been a little too drunk as he never showed up and we found his pickup wrapped 'round a tree the next day. Ain't heard from him in a while.