By Billy Boy
I just don't know what to do. I've never seen Bubba so ticked off before. . . and I was with him when the Cowboys lost to the Rams last year. I was afraid he'd turn on me, his best friend, he got so out of control.
But he didn't. As of this second, I'm okay, he's okay, in our bodies at least, as well as can be expected. But mentally, I've got my doubts about Bubba. He goes around in circles like a mad dog. And he cusses every time he opens his mouth, sometimes using the Lord's name in vain..
Bubba's no fun to be around anymore. And, I'm very sad to report, he's so messed up, he often fails to zip up.
I'm genuinely concerned, so don't tell me I should get over it. "Them's" empty words. I'm in alien territory, like those Latinos in Del Rio, and so is Bubba. Neither one of us has ever been involved in "politics" before, not like we've been since early this month.
And about "politics," we're both, Bubba and me - how shall I say it? - we're both down right stupid.
It all started with that whistle-blower stuff, you know when the Prez was forced a few weeks back to publish a copy of a phone conversation he had with the head of that government in Ukraine.
"It's a damn lie!" Bubba shouted. (We'd been sitting quietly sipping coffee with our buddies at the Dairy Queen prior to his volcanic eruption).
"What? What's a lie?" we said, all together and all at once.
"He put it out there all by his lonesome self," I told Bubba, looking him straight in the eye as my own thoughts wandered to thinking about the first lady all by her lonesome self in that big bedroom above the Oval office.
"Don't matter! It's a frame up! The FBI and them Communist liberals and queers are workin' together to kick the man I helped get elected out of office. And I just ain't gonna stand for it! Do you hear? Do you hear?"
I didn't say another word, and haven't since, not to Bubba, who hasn't stopped ranting about how there's this grand conspiracy against the Prez.
Just a couple of hours ago, to bring us up to date, as he was leaving the DQ, Bubba's parting words was the most worrisome yet?
Still "ranting and raging" Bubba looked back at us still sitting and shouted, "I'm gonna get my guns and load them up. Tell everybody! If it's war they want, it's war they'll get! And I'm gonna be more than ready! If yur smart you'll get yur's, every gun you can find, and join me."
Well, I ain't joining nuthin! to put my position bluntly. I'm just writing this and hoping my friend Putt will let his readers know I'm asking for some serious help."
E-mail me: firstname.lastname@example.org or call me at: 399-001-0011. ASAP
DO NOT TWEET ME!