Branson MO-MO

This past week I returned to my favorite place I ever lived. And off like a prom dress I went from the ole town of Grand Island. After a good 8 hour drive, with my daughter who is more fun to take a barking dog, all she did was sleep on me. I arrived and we went back down to the old stomping grounds.
Walked into a place called the Bearded Clam, definitely not named from the chicks who where there that night, it would have been the spoiled milk club or something of that nature. Then grabbed a couple buddies and downtown we went, to the Outback Pub, where is the only Outback I have been to where I can get some fried alligator tail. That stuff is a cross between frog legs and chicken, and if you haven't ate that, then just roll with the chicken part. About the only thing that changed in my 10 years from going back, was all my buddies still have the same jobs they have just moved up the ladder a couple rungs.
In the Pub, there was this dude that had no teeth, which we refer to as a local down there by Arkansas, probably married to his cousin or another close family member, he kind of had a limp, maybe he to was an inbred cross also. Who knows, and who is counting? Not my, I was counting the number of steps it took my waitress to get to my table and back to the bar. When she brought back my alligator tail, she yelled, "he ordered some tail," and without missing a beat, I hollered, "and she takes credit cards, my kind of tail." Had a heck of a time watching that old guy, I couldn't figure out what the hell he was doing there. He just stood there, like a frog on a lillypad, but he had a shirt on. That night they were all wearing soccer uniform shirts, which was weird, cause there ain't no Mexicans down there, but they do have cable TV. On the back, most of them had their names, but this guy had SPECIAL ED on the back of his with the number 99, which I guessed was his age. Well, it didn't take me long to figure out, that he was obviously the kid and crowd greeter. They have those kind of jobs down there, and I guess, even at a bar. Shocked me like seeing a hooker being baptised.
After the time we spent at the Pub, one of our buddies dad owns the Track, all of them in Branson, so we rolled out of there like Easter Eggs down a hill, and went to ride go carts on the wooden track. Talk about 4 grown dudes laughing and giggling like little school girls,,,,well we had some influences that helped get us that way, I figured out I was a DAMN good go cart driver. It was like racing a sprint car, the back end fish tailed out like a colored mama down ordering chicken at Popeye's. You know, that big ole ghetto booty butt. And that was the just the first night there. I know I sure wasn't worried about anything other than alligator tail, so no tail for me, but I did tell the old man, don't be silly, wrap ole willy.