I "Bopped Along" the road, taking the time to appreciate the value of a gory knife fight in a small town like Dixie Mills. Entire Grandmothers leaped from their crossword puzzles as the combatants exchanged cross words. Mr. Peterman was just stoking his potbelly stove and remarking how he was thinking of putting in some sorgum come fall. The Lassiter Twins were having a peach of a time phoning in reports of stolen cars to police agencies around the country.

"I don't like bastards bopping along the road", some inebriated half-wit mused as I whistled nonchalantly with that, "I go mush you up", look I'm known for.

You know the rest: He got away on that horse and I got a horse on the way.

Authentic German Restaurant.

Lisa and I met for Dinner at 3:49 because we were both off on a Tuesday and Schnitzel Haus was as Authentic as you get.


We were seated, as always, by the bathroom. There was a picture of an old Bravarian cheese shop underneath an embroidered sign that read "Sie riechen das Badezimmer".

And I dare your fat ass to have them recommend a wine.