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To: deoetdoctrinae
A lawn tractor ain't much faster than walking.

But I guess walking was out of the question.

3 posted on 08/10/2010 11:49:04 AM PDT by E. Pluribus Unum (The man who speaks to you of sacrifice, speaks of slaves and masters, and intends to be the master.)
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To: E. Pluribus Unum

Walking doesn’t work. If the cops see you walking they will likely stop you.

Then they have you for public intoxication and whatever else they feel like throwing in. Resisting, disturbing the peace, etc.

Even if you are drunk in your own home and the wife or someone calls even if for no reason other than you are drinking, you can be arrested at least for an overnight.

It is weird. Drinking is OK but getting drunk in any circumstances is all but illegal.


11 posted on 08/10/2010 12:04:00 PM PDT by 240B (he is doing everything he said he wouldn't and not doing what he said he would)
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To: E. Pluribus Unum

Mine goes pretty fast......Much faster than walking, anyway.


40 posted on 08/10/2010 1:18:03 PM PDT by Osage Orange (MOLON LABE)
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To: E. Pluribus Unum

George Jones beat him to it.

Substance abuse

Jones’ alcohol consumption was legendary. For a great part of his life he woke up to a screwdriver and spent the rest of the day drinking bourbon. He was given the nickname “No-Show Jones” as a result of his missing many performances during his days of drug abuse. The song ‘No-Show Jones,’ makes fun of the foibles and weaknesses of Jones and other country singers.

Perhaps one of the best known stories of Jones’ drinking days occurred while he was married to Shirley Corley, his second wife. Jones resorted to some desperate measures in obtaining alcohol:


Once, when I had been drunk for several days, Shirley decided she would make it physically impossible for me to buy liquor. I lived about eight miles from Beaumont and the nearest liquor store. She knew I wouldn’t walk that far to get booze, so she hid the keys to every car we owned and left. But she forgot about the lawn mower. I can vaguely remember my anger at not being able to find keys to anything that moved and looking longingly out a window at a light that shone over our property. There, gleaming in the glow, was that ten-horsepower rotary engine under a seat. A key glistening in the ignition.

I imagine the top speed for that old mower was five miles per hour. It might have taken an hour and a half or more for me to get to the liquor store, but get there I did.

The riding mower doesn’t seem to be a one-time event. Wife Tammy Wynette told her riding mower story in her 1979 autobiography.


42 posted on 08/10/2010 1:27:59 PM PDT by billhilly
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