Turkey and Such

I will write before I go to bed.  The hillbillies aren't really so hillbilly any more.  I guess you can't be unless you live in some isolated holler.  T.V. and malls have changed them forever.  A little.

I mean, they still left the turkey and fixin's out all day.  I ate a turkey sandwich tonight.  The turkey had yet to see the refrigerator.  But I drank a bottle of champagne and bunches of scotch to counter that.  We'll see how I feel in the morning when I post this.

My second cousin Player has a beautiful girlfriend with whom I can not get along.  She's beautiful but literal.  She has a daughter, though, who like all kids gets along with me fine.  Player just likes to hang and smoke skunk.  I don't get it.  My aunt is going senile and doesn't remember what just happened.  Nobody seems as lively or happy as they did some years ago.  Except my boy cousin who has just gotten a new girlfriend.  She didn't come over because she had a "terrible cold."

"Bullshit," I yelled.  "She's not sick.  That's what you say when you don't want to go to your boyfriend's relative's house.

He smiled.  He's lost about thirty pounds since I last saw him.

"Jesus Christ, skinny, you been staying up late at night?"

He liked that.

His daughter is a little looker who is in her first year of college.  Player read the texts on her phone when she was in the other room.  Some boy and she had been texting terrible sexual things to one another.  Player was upset.

"Don't read the phone.  She's eighteen.  What do you think she's going to do?"

She wore a tight little strip of denim with pockets and a push up bra.  I kept looking.  Hillbillies and their cousins, you know.

Food eaten, wine drunk, the television went on and everybody sat around it and talked.  Me, too.  That is what we did.  And then. . . the day was done.  I poured myself another scotch and headed to my temporary bedroom.

Another T-day in the bag.