Oh my God, y’all.
I can’t stand it anymore.
The Texas Legislature won’t get out of my private life.
I mean, I can’t get away from them.
Just a few weeks ago I went into the fucking grocery store and thought I saw Sen. Don Huffines. I get back to my apartment and see the damned Huffines car dealership logo on every other neighbor’s car.
When trying to escape the freshman senator’s clutches I drive past the Texas College of Osteopathic Medicine and the UNT Health Science Center in Fort Worth and think about Rep. J.D. Sheffield., an osteopath. As I crack open a beer, hoping to escape the freshman Dallas senator’s clutches, I then swear I see Sen. Bob Hall! (Well, OK, I’m bound to see him if I’m watching The Walking Dead.) Just last week, I said “Jane Nelson Mandela” instead of “Nelson Mandela.” Those two are NOT the same, folks. I see Dennis Bonnen in the wildest of places – well, ok, I really don’t have a problem with that.
Sometimes in all my insomnia and delirium, I ask myself “what would Lois Kolkhorst do?”
To which I imagine she’ll say, “Have a life.”
Sine die, folks.