Good morning. It's Haystack. It's time for my favorite time of the week when we check in with my dear old friend Bama from Alabama. And Bama, good morning. Did you hear about that. That couple that got caught cheating at that concert? Oh, yeah, Haystack. I seen that. But come on, that ain't nothing. One time I got back into town after a little federally sponsored vacation and I walked in to find that dollar tree hussy's lipstick all over my CPAP machine. What? Wait a minute. Your CPAP machine?
Well, yeah. Real romantic, huh? I guess my ex, old Skeeter, does have a type. Aggressively tanned felons with a relentless Pringles addiction and a gnarly case of sleep apnea. I mean, at least cheat with somebody who don't require no plug in breathing support. Well, now that is both horrifying and oddly specific. Well, welcome to my life, Haystack. Anyway, last night we couldn't find a bottle opener and woo, my teeth are a paying the price this morning.
You mean to tell me you open bottles with your teeth? Well, yeah, I was a improvising Haystack, but now I'm chewing aspirins like they're candy corn. Please don't do that. Well, it's too late, sugar. All right, I gotta go. I'm off to the dentist or the gas station. Whichever one of them's got a less of a line to wait. Oh, goodness. Okay, CPAP machine Infidelity. That's a new one on me.
