Good Wife Hunting

Four solid hours out of Superdome City, doin' it to it and cookin' good down the superslab, dodging alligators and dead pedals, this wooly bear was startin' to nod off and decided to take a 10-100. So I pulled a short for some motion lotion and a mud ball. Well, my goodness gracious, look what I found.

It's a matchmaker. For truckers.

Now, these aren't your typical quasars. Nor are they concrete blondes or dress for sales. Not even San Quentin jailbait. No sir, these are some darlin' eager beavers and foxes with a hankerin' to get promoted to First Sargent. Even to old hands like yrself. Send away for the book and the tape, sign up with their system, and in a short-short, you'll be eyeball-to-eyeball with your future O.L., fer sure fer sure.

Good to know somebody's looking out for the workin' man: Eighty-eights around the house, good buddy. We gone, we down and we like it.