Ever have a day, where you want to punch people in the head everywhere you go? But you can't, because that's felony assault and going to jail really cuts into your loafing and Tivo time?
Today was one of those days for me.
On a day like today I really wish Dolly Parton was my Aunt.
No. Really. Just imagine it. I'm having a bad day - you know when the doldrums are giving you a violent beating and maybe, just maybe, anally raping you. I roll over to Aunt Dolly's. For some reason I see her living in some big ass log cabin in the middle of the woods and envision being greeted by animatronic animals all along her driveway.
Don't judge - this is my fantasy.
I'd walk in and Aunt Dolly would flash a trillion watt smile and say "Hi Honey!" while holding a large basket of biscuits. I would drearily greet her and she'd snap on a concerned face and ask what was wrong. I'd settle in at her big kitchen table, she would fix me a big plate of food (fried chicken, country gravy and biscuits) and listen to all my troubles. When I would finish she would look at me thoughtfully and dish up some down home, back woods, folksy wisdom. You know, like Dr. Phil but without all the jackassery.
After the dishing of down home wisdom she would bear hug me until I nearly burst then send me on my way. I would feel better and wiser after my trip to Aunt Dolly's.
Plus I would get a lifetime pass to Dollywood and she'd probably let me try on her wigs!
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