With the new carry gun laws and Georgia, I need a nice dressy gun for when I go to parties in crowded places.
I went to the Milledgeville film festival and realized I had a cute black patent leather purse that matched a pair of patent leather open toed shoes. Purchased at Beall's outlet on sale none the less. I looked great in my outfit. A sparkly affair that sold cheap at Catherine's plus size dress shop that I bought in case I ever get to wear something of the sort.
The only problem with the outfit is that I never test drove the shoes. What a pain in the arse to keep on my feet as I wandered from the event area to my car to check on Louise and the AC in the car. Its hard being chic. Heavens, I am glad I did not purchase a patent leather gun holster.
Anyway, I'm not getting a gun to carry. It is just a little humor I got from my dad. He passed 13 1/2 years ago but I still feel him around. Living with my mother, I learned at her knee some good and bad parts of my character.
Like all families, we had discord. My parents were basically half German and half Scot-Irish with a splash of Native American. Mom had a bigger splash of Native American. I'll have to scan my high school graduation picture. You can see the Indian in me. First I have to find the thing.
My mom has the quiet German in her. Dad had the Irish. I can still hear him singing, speaking in rhymes that he just made up, jolly, laughing. In a tight spot, humor was his weapon. He gave me that gift and it has made my life all the better.
I miss you dad.