"I'll like yours if you like mine."

"I'll like yours if you like mine."

Deal! But we'll have to wait 'til this most excellent story is finished to seal it.

And thus it began...that torrid day on the Carolina coast, where sarcasm dripped like moss on one of the massive live oak trees at the Drayton Planation. I'd lost my temper with

Colonel Sanders and tossed the KFC Li'l Bucket out of the window. I gunned the accelerator of my Spider and headed for some backroads to impress some local gentry. But a deep pot

head had actually made me think. As I sped through country backwoods trying to catch up to Colonel Sanders, his words echoed in my mind, "Weed is from earth. God put it there

for us to survive on." Jerry Garcia was eating Cherry Garcia ice cream at Ben & Jerry 's nearby. He called to me and I thankfully forgot Colonel Sanders.

Col. Sanders sat on a bench in the afterlife, feeling dejected. First he died, then some weirdos were impersonating him on commercials for his own company. What had he done to

. They clucked a nerve inducing cackle of cacophony. He shook in his white apron. Had he really done such an injustice to these chicken by fricasseeing them. They lunged pecking t

to and fro like greased lightning fighting off a horde of yesterday's bad news but matching the pace of the waves that were crashing on your foundations. Twas a foul thing done.