Possum Poot update

I walked into my favorite watering hole just as the debate/discussion/ argument was ending. Elbert the eggplant farmer was in a heated whatever with Professor Phineas Phogbottom, a known evil librul of the worst sort.

Now, Elbert is one of us, a staunch member of God’s Own Party (GOP) and not one to take slights easily. What I saw was worrisome. Elbert’s trigger finger was moving towards the trigger of his semiautomatic .22-caliber squirrel rifle with a bump stock. (Elbert says he ain’t missed a squirrel since the bump stock and could prune branches from a tree with it.) The last thing Elbert said as he saw me was, “I don’t give a turnip what you say about that sweet young Russian girl and those men; it’s still the National Rifle Association, not the National Russian Association!” With that, he turned and left muttering unprintable words. The professor smiled and went back to his cheap box chablis, chuckling to himself (he always loved to rile up the righteous around our town).

I sat down within earshot of the professor, hoping to hear something about his evil librul plans to come, but to no avail; the dirty, evil librul is too smart for that. Sassy Sue and Emma arrived and sat down with him, but all the talk was about mundane librul junk like health care (who needs it?) and kids and parents being torn apart at the border. (Tough; don’t come here.) It took me a good six beers to feel good enough to leave.

Don’t worry; we’re still completely, perfectly righteous here, so come visit us in lovely downtown Possum Poot.

STEVE GIBSON

Little Rock