I ain't sleepin' but I've got visions of scandals running all through my gourd

At what juncture in your vida loco - or loca as the case may be - does it become unnecessary to nap in the afternoon? I am contemplatin' such theories as my son sleeps off a case of "bastards". In other words, Crazy Head had awoke early this morning, played liked the son of a rock star with a drunk aupair and skipped right on past Sleepyville into early afternoon without rechargin' his battrees (pronounce as spelled). This caused him to bastard out at his best mates house by refusing to share toys and obsessing over the non-functionality of side doors on a little tyke bus like he was freakin' Rain Man counting cards at the Mirage ("20 minutes to Bob the Builder. 20 Minutes to Bob the Builder."). Incidentally, they should make a special brand of toys for kids with control issues. They could be called Little Control Freaks.

I mean I quit partaking in the afternoon siesta after I matriculated. Once you've got a job, it seems as though you can't nap in the middle of the day because, even though you ain't shuckin' steel like a slave at that moment, you've got a whole bunch of other shit you gots to tend to because you can't normally tend to it because you're normally shuckin' steel like a Jamaican slave (Blogger's note: "Shuckin' steel like a slave" is a line I hornswaggled from the legendary, formally jerri-curled Blues Great Buddy Guy. So, tell the NAACP to back off. I'm fresh off attending the American Eagle School of Law & Tire Center's Black Law Student Association shindig as well. Much like Half Dollar, I don't dance I take two steps and twist.)

I'm tired enough to sleep write now, but I couldn't saw some sheep for nothin'. Maybe that should have been saw some z's? Or, is it catch some sheep? Eitherway, I'm tired as hell and I'm not going to splain it anymore. The reponsibilities of life do not allow me to nap in the middle of the day is what I'm sayin. That and my lunatic neighbor mowing his goddman yard in October.

WARNING! THE FOLLOWING COMMENT MAY BE OFFENSIVE. DEAL WITH IT.

So, if October is breast cancer awareness month, shouldn't there be a healthy breast awareness month? If we're going to call out all the sick boobs, we should also celebrate all the healthy ones. Instead of those sissyfied pink rubber bands or those ribbons that look like you had a midget fstylist who tuckered out before she finished the job, women that wanted to show their support for all the sick boobs could wear like shirts with the boob area cut out to show what healthy boobs look like. You know, sort of like those pictures at the dentist's office that show the really good peoples teeth versus your sugar-eatin-plaque-covered-have-to-use-a-pressure-washer-to-clean-them teeth.

KNOWN OFFENSIVE THEORY IS OVER. ANYTHING ELSE BEYOND THIS POINT THAT IS OFFENSIVE IS JUST YOU LOOKING FOR A REASON TO GET CHAPPED.

O.K., the local puddle jumper depot gets funding from our local County Physical Court. The aeropuerto finds out a while back that the Feds are theorizin' on payin the entire cost for the lookout tower. The Physical Court turns over a wad of De Niro. A lot of De Niro. Like Ragin' Bull De Niro. Not Sorry Ass Mob Boss with a Psychiatrist De Niro. Then, after getting the De Niro, the aeropuerto says, oh yeah, by the way, the federales paid for the look out tower and we're still going to keep them ducketts you flogged us. Is this the way you figgered it? I swear, it is almost like people in positions of authority - see the wheelbarrowed donkey - in Paducah go out of their way to scandalize shit or make it appear as though something shady is taking place.

Please allow me to fumigate my wisdom. A county attorney sues his county for following his advice and giving cash to a soon-to-be-former employee. A cat runs for a county job on the platfrom of cutting waste by getting rid of the "right hand man" position only to cut it and reinstate it with a different right hand man. A City Commission gives incentives to any new company that will parlay its way downtown but don't won't to share the love with any local business that's already floggin' its wares downtown. City Commission passes a temporary payroll tax to "increase" business, then make its temporary forever because taking more dough out of the checks of people who work in the city will "increase" buitness. A City Commission threatens to by a hotel that looks like an old burned out set for 70's porno movies because they don't like the cat that is ponying up millions to purchase it and they want to tell him what to do with property and how to run it. The Mayor wont let a big wig developer who's been in town forever codroast some trees at his newest development because some residents of Snoot Ave don't want codroastin in close proximity to their snootiness. The City has somehow determined that you can enclose an art festival and let people swill it out within said confines during those festivities, but you can only consume gurgle burgers in a beerpen/beer jail area the size of Clark Griswold's Metallic Pea Family Truckster when celebratin' swine fest on the river. You can swill it out in a bar on the Sabbath but you sure as hell can't by no liquid love in a store and take it home and consume it. A police chief goes public with his reprimand of his officers for accepting free meat at overturned semi accident site in Meatgate '06. A cat running for judge tell us all he's doing us a favor by taking the mere pittance of $100K that he'll make after he quits being a cash laden defense attorney and graces us with his appearance on the bench. The Artist Witness Protection Plan is implemented where all these would-be Picassos move to Paducah, get a free loan, fix up an old house, then put it back on the market, selling it for a huge profit before Vangoughing somewheres else less fartsy and more artsy. And this is just all the craziness that has transpired recently. I didn't get into "O.T." and the nose whiskey flow that was covered by the Paducah Sun in the 80's.

I freakin' love Paducah. It's like a mix of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, Mayberry and Smallville. It's got it old school history and charm, with a very nice group of people with a whole of lot of unbelievability.

Well, with that said, I'm getting ready to go on a whirlwind party tour. A yute birffday shinding, a law enforcement Halloween Party and drunken-postal Halloween party. I guess the question is, of these three soires, which will have the most guns, screaming and crying and non-sharing?

I'm just sayin.....