Lurleen's Diary

(Originally published 11/30/2005)

Dear Diary:

Uncle Festus came home drunk last night and pounded my vag really hard. I’m just thankful he didn’t go in the backyard for some "fudge" this time. I wrote to Oprah again, a victim of incestuous vag and rear-entry pounding herself, but still no word. I can only watch the mailbox and pray.

- Lurleen

Dear Diary:

Today Aunt Mertyl burnt herself up. Uncle Festus seemed less troubled by his wife being dead than he was about the meth trailer she exploded in. "Now how in the h*ll," he asked, "am I supposed to explain this to Gary?"

- Lurleen

Dear Diary:

They fired me today from the Pack-n-Save. I don’t recall them going over the not-eating-the-Snickers-up-front-by-the-register policy during orientation. Now I’ll never make enough money to move to Hoover.

- Lurleen

Dear Diary:

I walked in on Uncle Festus pounding Gary’s man vag today. Uncle Festus said, "Well, if your Aunt Mertyl hadn’t burnt herself up, I wouldn’t be doing this." And all I could think was, "Aunt Mertyl or Gary, talk about your rock or your hard place." At least it weren’t me that time.

- Lurleen

Dear Diary:

I know I ain’t the sharpest tack in the box, but I know better than to tease Gary’s bird dog Goose with a 99 cent hamburger from the Wendy’s. Uncle Festus learned that the hard way. Gary has him convinced his finger might grow back.

-Lurleen

Dear Diary:

I asked Uncle Festus why we ain’t seen much of Gary these days. He said that Sheriff Dobbs done found Gary with his d*ck in a chicken. Then they sent him on up to the nuthouse in Birmingham. I guess my luck ain’t so bad, considering the cards dealt to that chicken.

- Lurleen