More naked weirdness at a Waffle House down in Georgia!

Yea! If you’re reading this you’ve survived another workweek!! Good for you!!! Fear not though. Another stinkin’ Monday is just over the horizon.

See, that’s why you come to read CCB, to be uplifted and then slammed back to the floor! But, hey, that’s why we’re here. You glutton for punishment, you.
Things are quiet here at The Compound. The pastures are so green around here with all the rain we’ve had lately that the jackrabbits are staying out of the yard. As long as the jackrabbits stay in the pastures, so do the coyotes.

We’re finally out of a really cold May where we saw little in the way of sun or warm temperatures. The tomato plants are finally beginning to take off, as are my cantaloupe vines.

The Wife is back from her trip to North Carolina. There was really no announcement that she was coming back. I pulled into The Compound one afternoon and she was sitting up on the porch smoking filterless Pall-Malls, swigging whiskey from the bottle, and humming “My Philadelphia Home.”

When I said hello and welcomed her back, she didn’t even look at me. Just clinched the smoke between her lips and asked whose car that was parked next to Hellkat One’s trailer.

When I told her it was Gigi, The Trump’s personal hairdresser, the Wife grunted and went back to humming.

The good news is that the Wife bought me several bottles of The Shed BBQ sauce while she was back east. This stuff is undoubtedly the best store bought sauce I’ve ever had. It hasn’t made it west of the Mississippi yet. I did discover that you can buy it online though.

I can highly recommend the vinegar-based sauce for pulled pork and the mustard-based sauce for ribs.
Now I’m itching to make pulled pork. May have to work on that over the weekend.

In the meantime, while we’re on the subject of southern kinds of things. You dedicated, loyal readers may recall that back in January, I posted in CCB about my adventure at a Waffle House on Meridian in OKC. I wrapped into that a vignette about a Waffle House in Georgia wherein a woman who was having breakfast there stood up, removed her clothing and began throwing stuff around inside the restaurant (guess she didn’t want to get any egg yolks on her clothes).

I just came across yet another story about a Waffle House in Georgia (something in the water, perhaps?) wherein a man gets out of his vehicle (a BMW no less) in the parking lot naked…he was naked, not the parking lot.

As he’s standing next to his vehicle, he begins ummmmm stroking his one-eyed Georgia eel, presumably to make it somewhat more presentable. He then attempted to enter said Waffle House, but was blocked when employees locked the door and called the law.

So now he’s standing outside the door pressing ummmmm hisself up against the glass and walking up and down in front of the restaurant to the disgust of customers, many of whom began streaming live video of the action.

One parent who was in the restaurant with her child told reporters, “I wouldn’t know what to tell my child about what was going on, a grown man. He was built like a potato.”

So the cops finally show up and Mr. Potato begins urinating. He was arrested for public indecency, but later released.
RELEASED?! Are you kidding me? The man is a menace.

Tip of the day: Stay the hell out of Waffle Houses in Georgia. Okay, just stay the hell out of Georgia.

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