hold on to your butts

Hold on to your Butts!  Luts of things to see places to know people the meet and posit the know.  Here in North Caroliney are the brass buckle shiny belts shiny, here in the east is a maple leaf feast, a moot modern mystery scheme stars local gossiping locals.  On Cinco de Mayo, met me a wife-o, took her and a knife-o down to the bayou, carved us a bed out of hickory-ash, wed neath the stars as fed the wild turkeys.  For here is the land of the sky, and every body wel-bred in Weaverville yes ma’am.  Tour a give and look a tip, fire up to car the downtown trip slice of glimpse of swimming night of through sleeps and sheets on a firm mattress.  Universe winks and the closing dead of darkness ?.......? but still the healthy harken of the first still sun of man.  Must be dawn when Peter Rabbit on the lawn, perks an ear for robin’s song, singing that she knew it all along.