IJAG to the white courtesy phone

IJAG:

Mrs. Lono suggested I contact you. I'm simultaneously posting, texting, e-mailing and calling. In the car. At 80 miles per hour.

She wanted you to know.

What?

No, I'm not actually driving. Mrs. Lono is.

But I'm digging this. Time for a thread titled, "Ask Ramblin' Lono?"

Were it not for fear of incurring Moddy's wrath, I'd be sorely tempted.

 

You can only start an 'Ask Lono' thread if you're drunk.

 

Does your car has desdemonic valves?

 

This should be a tweet.

 

Too long to be a tweet.

 

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

 

I call shenanigans. You can't call AND text AND post on the same device.

 

I have more than one device.

 

So the Lonos are in rural Georgia - a/k/a Cousinfuckistan - and I stop by the liquor store for some whiskey.

The guy in front of me cashes his unemployment check at the liquor store.

Then he walks out to his 89 GMC Yukon, which is jacked up to near monster-truck levels, and where he has a hot MILF-ish woman waiting for him, along with three children in the back seat.

What's the first thing he does once he gets into his truck. What else? Light a cigarette.

Motherfucker.

You can't make this shit up.

 

OK, I'll try another way. You simply can't do all four things with two thumbs.