I.M. back with more of me and Nilda’s daily life for Nilda’s cousin, Clementine, and her somewhat less than a pain in the butt husband who by all reports are actually thinkin’ about leavin’ his former worthless life behind and takin up the utopian life on the rode. Course once he reads the rest of this here article I.M. writin’, he may change his mind, which by all accounts should be real easy since he ain’t got much of a mind to be changed anyways. Where I.M. left off was when we’all was on our way to the combination restaurant and beauty parlor the ladies wanted to eat at, in case, like Clem’s husband most likely has, you has already forgot about it.
So there we was, all sixteen of us’ens, packed in them two monstrous dually tired pick-up trucks, a pullin’ up to something that looked more like an overstuffed dollhouse than a building a body would ever want to be a caught goin’ into. We fellers was all a lookin’ at each other, a thinkin’ oh lordy, what in thunderation have we got ourownselves into, while them ladies was a carryin’ on like a bunch of blackbirds perched atop an overturned grain truck.
That was when we first heard things that man’s ears ain’t never supposed to be exposed too. Things like Lapsang Souchon, Cupid's Arrow, Super Fine Rooibos and Gunpowder Green. Now that last one we kinda got a handle around, but them ones afore it, they was a makin' us menfolk think that the worst thing in the whole world would be to walk into that place with them ladies. So, Clem if yer a with them ladies and can read yer tea leaves to the point of a knowin’ what this talk were all about, then I.M. will write y’all some more But if you ain’t, I.M. concerned that you ain’t cut out fer this here full time mobile, mobile home life the way them ladies is a livin’ it.