A Man from the past

Yesterday Lord Kadizzle ran into a hill billy. The foot hills and hallars of West Virgina, and Ohio contain a special breed of hill billies. A common announcement on the radio was a plea for help for someone who "got burnt out". Translation, the trailer burnt down. It all started when the young escapee from the hills introduced himself. Some where in the conversation the fellow mentioned he had no drivers license. Asked how he lost it, he explained how he had a gun pulled on him by a drug dealer. The drug dealer was mad because he was selling drugs to some of his customers. Needing to make a quick exit he hit the other fellows car on the way out. His vehicle must have picked up some red paint in the process. When the police stopped him and asked him to explain the dent, my hill billy friend explained that he had hit a deer. The patrolman asked him if the deer was painted red. After five days in jail he began his trip west with his schizophrenic uncle. His mission was to become a union bolt twisster. Somehow they ended up in Montana a shot an Elk. No decent hill billy would buy a license to shoot an elk. I forgot to ask that obvious question, but from the sound of it they were living on elk meat every day. In Montana his uncle threw the cell phone out the window because he thought it was a bomb.

As our conversation went on I realized his life was just one disaster after another, but that was pretty much what he expected. His father died in his forties from a methadone patch that somehow killed him. Now it looks like a lawsuit will result in millions for his clan. The cash will do them good because according to my new found friend growing dope was getting to be just too much of a hassle. With the new found wealth they plan to replace the houseboat featured above with a newer model.