What is she thinking, that sassy little cube girl? She’s planning something delightfully mischievous. She’s thinking about stealing green apples from the farmer’s tree, maybe knocking on some doors and hiding, possibly about selling junk bonds in a leveraged buyout. Good, old-fashioned country fun.
Straw hat, impish grin, peat moss hair–the girl’s made of country. Give her a glass of sasparilla–or just maybe an icy coke–and a jar full of lightning bugs, and you’ve made her summer night. Except…except for her arms. Her puffy, puffy arms.
Really, I don’t know how many hi-jinks you could get into, or how high they would be if you could even access them, if your arms were two gingham-wrapped bolsters, and your legs were basically the same, but longer and with more lace, could you really even successfully manage a single shenanigan? She’s optimistic, I’ll give her that, particularly from someone that’s 70% platonic solids, and a couple of floral print tubes.
A girl like that, she’ll break your heart, and leave you smiling. Or, her head will roll off and end up under the cabinet. Either way.
Likewise, a country-fresh find from the St. Vincent De Paul’s near 620 and I35, Austin. She was there for…months. Edging on to a year. I wonder if someone finally took pity on her, or if they just gave up. On the one hand, it seems kind of tragic if they threw her away, she’s got a certain spirit that deserves more than the dustbin. On the other hand, we’re deep into the realm of minimal effort country kitsch here, maybe we should turn back.