I can’t believe I spent yesterday’s post outlining my marvelous plan for saving the economy AND the planet by employing hobos to push me around in their shopping carts, yet somehow FORGOT this happened:
Scene: Hoody is on the phone to Dear Sweet Mama
HH: I’mma go down the hill and round me up a passel o’ ho’s.
DSM: Ummmm… why?
HH: I’mma make them bitches clean this house.
DSM: Oh, okay then. (see where I get it???)
HH: See I figure the ho’s would prolly rather not ho, but they ain’t got no other skills. So, I can pay them to clean the house, so I won’t have to clean and they won’t have to ho. Win-win.
DSM: You’d probably have to train ’em…
HH: I figure ho’s are pretty good at learning new things.
DSM: And they’d probably try to steal your stuff…
HH: I ain’t really got all that much worth stealing. Them ho’s prolly ALREADY got a better TV than I got.
DSM: Sounds like a plan, then.
(Editor’s note: Yes, my accent did get that bad… I had been cleaning house all day with a kerchief on my head and I was channeling Prissy from Gone with the Wind.)
Then, just when I thought the plan was perfect, Jana suggested we get the tweakers and other assorted speed freaks to clean the windows since they’re all jumping around anyway (for which she has earned a promotion to the Royal Court as Official Tweaker Wrangler). I am also going to train them to get the dust bunnies out of the corners of the ceiling, because the ho’s probably can’t do that.
Ho’s tend to have back problems, you know.