In the next couple of weeks, I should have Locals going back on track, as well as everything else.
As most know, I had some major health issues for a while, and they DRASTICALLY cut down on my ability to do - anything really. Over the last two weeks, I've gotten my streaming back up, have gotten videos at a better pace, and have been hammering out comic back into finish mode.
Locals is part of that - I thank you all. Its been a long road but a good one.
Robbie goes on an expletive filled attack on the former mod Kimmy complete with threats.
The words fall from her mouth as she opens to speak ‘her truth’ like they are balls of wet chicken skin left out too long in a holler heatwave.
She swallows hard for another excitin’ (?) free-for-all night of discontent that flows freely from her flea veins, thick as sorghum syrup and twice as sticky.
She is vile; she is worked up once again as she winds up her narrative to feed the Wallowers and Followers, like a coon dog bayin’ at the moon for scraps.
She soon lets everyone know that Goober Gay-be is just “goody” in his 8x10 jail cell.
(Goody? What is she, 12? Lord have mercy, next she’ll be callin’ the jailers “Mister Policeman.”)
shudder
She quickly doubles down that the courts “did not offer Jeremy that property” and pounds home that she tells the truth, not Jeremy, poundin’ it harder than a blacksmith on an anvil with a grudge.
Fleasa complains that TUG made a post sayin’ she was in deep doo-doo now for lettin’ the cat out of the bag and compromisin’ any “talks” that were in the works.
She claims, “I actually talked to the lawyer today, and it’s not a secret, and I thought it was.”
She shifts her weight and spits out, “But I...
