It’s a Sweet Ride

My Stud Muffin is doing doughnuts in the snow on a golf cart.
I keep thinking he’s gonna flip the thing but he pulls out of each spin perfectly! He’s a snow-pro.

I’m surprised he’s not gathering a crowd, though. It’s not your average golf cart. It’s a pimped-out, custom painted hunk of special sassy Sweetness! (kind of like me) It even had a rockin’ stereo until we left it out in the rain.

We live close to town (i.e. 3-way stop intersection where the grocery store is) so I like to use the golf cart to rip up there. It’s particularly handy in the summer when there are 10, 000 tourists (fudgies) milling around aimlessly.

Having  been a “summer resident” for a whole buncha years, I love to see Northern Michigan hopping with people! I love that they love it here. It’s a higher level of excitement  than in the winter. By that I mean that it actually registers on the Fun-o-Meter. Winter is….. well, it’s really pretty, y’all.

Anyhoozle, it’s a little town and it’s very quaint so everyone just walks from place to place. Like, in the street, mostly. It’s like Bourbon Street. They’re everywhere! I’m gonna start throwing beads.Verrry busy looking at everything but the ginormous SUV bearing down on them. Scares the crap outta me!

The grocery store is the hub of all things Townie. You gotcher ice, your propane, your wine and cheese plus enough groceries to get you through the beach party. The coming – the going. It’s crazy!

I am certain that I am gonna plow Maw Maw down one day. Or some little Fudgelet in polka dot swimsuit. Or some drunk-ass grabbing more ice for the cooler. Oh wait – that’s my brother….

We have a famous centenarian in town. He’s amazing. More active than most of us and just a great example of human kind. He also lives near town and walks or rides his bike everywhere. Everyone loves him, waves to him, gives him big high fives. He’s a hundred freakin’ years old, for crying out loud!! Here’s the deal:  I do not want to find his wrinkled hide smushed on my back bumper, you get me?  Can you say “pariah”? (I can but I had to spell-check it)

The golf cart is just the ticket! I can see 360 without whipping my head around 8 times to check and recheck.  I can always find a parking space unless there’s a bike parked in my spot. People always see me coming because of the aforementioned Sweetness. Plus, I am always throwing out friendly waves. Or screaming obscenities. It’s a fine line.

I can send my little BoogerButt to the store for me, too! He loves it. It is his ride, after all, not mine. I have about a year and a half until he’s driving a real rig so I’m taking advantage of him. He drives like a maniac so the Fudge River does a good job of parting for him. It’s fun to watch – he’s like Moses of the IGA.

Admittedly, this is Summer Transpo. Unless you want to do doughnuts down M-22, it’s not great. It’s, what? A one-wheel drive? Maybe I should put a plow on the front? Wahahahaha!  I just cracked myself up there – that reeks Up North, doesn’t it?

Okay, that’s enough. You get the picture. If not, here’s one for you. You can see why they know it’s me. Um….. who stole my fudge, dangit? 

Carefully yours,

Anita Paintjobb

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