Maggie's Farm

Let's hope Israel creates the crisis and the solution.

That will force Our Idiot to take a stand... if he's capable of doing such.
`

Marianne, Jappy,

Where did that Polynesian dancing bit come up? I was at the NCFBABBF. That's the National Convention for Barbie and Ken Boyfriends Convention in Piss Pott, Mississippi. I had so much fun you wouldn't bleeve it! We received detailed instructions on what to pack and to bring to the convention, and don't you know, we had to bring every Barbie and Ken we had. We all met at the NCFBABBF convention room at the motel on Highway 6 and sit on special mats and dump our collections out in front of us. It was very ken-like. Zen-like? oh well. I was the only one there whose Barbies had no heads and who had G.I. Joe dolls mixed with my headless Kens. The worst thing? None of my dolls had clothes on and some of the breastesses on my Barbies were rough and scrapey and one of my G.I. Joe doll's balls were painted blue by my brother and that blue-balled G.I. still had a weapon strapped around him and then one of my Ken dolls had green hair and a prom dress on but you couldn't tell if it was his head that belonged on the prom-dressed man body. We had to tell all the names of our dolls, and I made the names up and don't you know I named one Barbie 'Marianne' after I found a suitable head for her and I named one G.I. Joe 'Jappy' but he wasn't the one with blue balls, he was the one with a scimitar I'd made out of a stick and tinfoil. I was not invited to the bar in the evenings to have drinks and talk about our dolls, and I am sure it's because the other attendees mostly had their Barbies and Ken's still in the original boxes. My mom always told me I was bad and I don't care because I met a nice salesman for cheap mortgages and bought a cool house. Before I left the convention, I sneaked around the motel and stuffed Barbie, Ken, and G. I. Joe heads and bodies everywhere you can imagine and then some. They'll be finding those parts for years. I did keep the 'Marianne' and 'Jappy' dolls and put them on the mantle in my new house in Piss Pot, MI. I think when a little girl comes in with her parents to see if they want to buy the house, they will because they'll know a caring, loving prom queen lived there. I made you a duct tape loin cloth, Jappy, and a tinfoil crown as prom king to go with your scimitar. Anyways, I didn't learn to dance. I just did what I do best: Get pissed-off at snots. In Piss Pot, MI.
`

No. Open only to those snots whose dolls were in original condition. What planet did I grow up on where getting a Barbie meant pulling her head off and rubbing her tits? I mean, not like in a lesbian way... more like..'I can't wait to grow a pair like these.' sort of way. It was curiosity. I don't drink with people who have none.
`

Luther. You are such a gentleman. It pains me a little to call you 'numbnuts' but 'curiosity' is what I'm talking about. Why would I have any opposition whatsoever to talking to a guy with blue balls? How would I know he had blue balls? As for tits, I only care about my own when the nipples get hard in the grocery store where it's too damn cold by the frozen food section.
`

Really? I didn't know it bothered men to have their nipples all protruberant and all. Have you ever been grocery shopping and all of a sudden had to go #2?

What did you do?
`

"Adequate facilities"? What? Like a big place in the back of the store with a sign: IMMINENT DUKIE STATION, Leave Carts Here. Do all big stores have that? I think it's a big store syndrome. Dukie attacks. You don't kid me, Luther. I know Marines and I know you know it is just gas when you get that imminent feeling. I can see you mincing along real fast-like pushing your cart over to the cheese section. There's always a worker stacking yogurt there by the cheese, so I know, you being a gentleman and all, that you bend down to avoid any flapping flesh and cut some cheese. heh... When it melts the Ben 'n Jerry's across the aisle, you stand up big and bad like the Marine you are and point a fast finger at the helper who is looking at you like a stoned deer and snarl, "Do you mind!"
`

"It all works out in the end."

Yeth, it do, don't it. hahahaha.
`

Luther. The word 'adequate' has me befuddled. What is adequate to a grunt might not be adequate to a lady. I wonder if those earth food stores have outhouse shitters out back. That is not what I would call adequate, but I don't know. I shop at an earth food store for one item - some lotion made in Germany - and the people in the place give me the creeps. They are so serious and they ponder long over the ingredients on the recycled boxes of Fearios. They gross me out bad. I buy five lotions each time so I don't have to go back. What I wonder is where these real old hippies come from because our town is not like that. The mountains surrounding my town has those people, though. They don't use bags at this earth store. You have to bring your own. First time I didn't know that so had to hold up my t-shirt and get the check-out person to put all my lotion in my t-shirt. I was like... you assholes.
`

Jappy, my most gracious swain,

I didn't see any sheep but the senator was there. He was home from DC for a BBQ where they had a lot of pork. His name is Senatuh Phil E. Buster. I dressed up pretty and joined his crowd and he came over to me like a pumpkin on skates, drink in hand and pork in the other. He offered me some and winked at me and I don't like a winking man so I told him get on the spit and I'd be happy to turn 'im a good simmerin' turn or two. bastahd.