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January 21, 2002-1:33 p.m. Warning: Unspeakable Horrors Lie Below! It seems the trucker�s daughter has taken of late to visiting a tanning salon in order to impress her ex-husband. The man was released from prison recently where he was serving a term for driving whilst intoxicated. In Texas, you have to have been convicted of drunk driving three times before you are forced to do hard time. That fact, in and of itself, ought to let you know the type of character we are dealing with here. That and the fact that he was at one time married to the trucker�s daughter but I digress. They were living together shortly after his release, then she threw him out and now they are back together again. She ran him down unmercifully while he was incarcerated so the first time they reconciled she caught plenty of flak. I won the bet on that one because I said she would be sleeping with him within two weeks of his release! This can�t be easy on their child but I doubt if that concerns either party. She has only told a few people on the team at work (my sainted assistant being one) that they are back together again because she doesn�t want to face the music we would all send blaring her way. It�s pretty obvious anyway because she gets all giddy and even more talkative and idiotic when she�s getting it regular. So anyway, at her ex-husband�s bidding she started going to a tanning salon as if a tan would improve that package one iota. I think she had been twice when the clerk suggested that she try the high power bed that is supposed to tan you twice as fast. She fell for it and we were forced to try and cope with the results on Friday. She was so burned that she had difficulty walking normally and some unfortunate coworkers were treated to views of her sunburned chest. *Puke* My poor, sainted assistant had to hear about how itchy and burned the trucker�s daughter�s nipples were. *Future Google: �trucker�s daughter�s nipples�* **Disclaimer: All characters in this diary are fictional. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, real or imagined, is purely coincidental and unintentional.** |
