1) we have the neighbor that prefers to blow up their trash with gasoline bombs - because it's easier to make a bomb, pile up your garbage up, and go for it than it is to drag a trashcan to the curb for pickup. (wtf.)
2) we have the lady who lived in a trailer (nothing wrong with that) but the trailer had no steps. It was up on jacks. But wait, there's more. (BFF found a random dog and was going from ranch to ranch trying to find the owner, because she's nice like that.) She knocks at the base of the door (again, up on jacks, so 4 feet up off the ground. No steps.) The door opens and some chick in cut offs (pockets hanging out) and SCORES of PHONE NUMBERS written in SHARPIE on her LEGS. Why? Who knows. Like, more than 80 phone numbers. Because... paper is hard to come by?
3) we have the meth'd out-looking chick staggering from the woods holding a massive revolver in one hand and a barking dog leashed with a clothesline in the other hand. She approaches BFF and her husband (in their car, slowing down to avoid hitting her) and she points at a big rattlesnake on the side of the road. "You see that? I done hit 'em with a STICK! He's comin' after my dog, so I done hit 'em with a stick!" all while waving the revolver around wildly. (I'll give you a few seconds to see what's wrong with that one.)
4) and my personal favorite, the hillbillies giggin' frogs in a flat bottomed boat floating down the river behind BFF's ranch. Water moccasins pretty much drip out of the trees there and build their nests in the exposed sides of creeks and rivers. Sure enough, a big one fell from an overhanging branch into the boat and one of the hillbillies grabbed his shotgun and shot at it. In the boat. The boat immediately started sinking, floating towards the side of the river where it was thick with the snakes. She heard him moan, "Oh, shit."
It's like this is where the Darwin Award winners go to die.
And now, we have tales of her at her new job, a gov't position. You'd think you'd be fine working in a gov't job, right? WRONG. We have co-workers who come to WORK, a JOB where they are PAID actual money, they come to work in pajama dresses and house shoes. Like, fuzzy, plastic coated (and padded) backless house slippers. Three of her coworkers!
Yesterday, a co-worker advised her to go online and look up sexual predators for their zip code because "you'd be surprised how many of us are married to them." !!!!!!!!!
She walks to the lunch room and sees one computer with a MUG SHOT of a guy as the desktop image. The lady says that's her husband, that's his mug shot from being arrested for MOLESTING A CHILD, but she "just thinks that's a really good picture of him."
His mug shot.
She's given herself a month and a half left before she reevaluates staying. I don't blame her. (And I'd leave sooner.)
Last dress rehearsal before filming is tonight. I love her stories because they are my inspiration for "Lynnette." Niiiiiiice. Also, I get the distinct feeling my left leg grew an inch in a week. Maybe I just need new running shoes... *scratches head*