Okay true got a few
milking machines before the cows, but after scarfing down a grease burger and fries and swallering a MnT Dew, I decided to get a bubble out of the General, so cruised down to Hazzard. Got there pulled into Ziggy's there which used to be the Motor Inn course there ain't been no motel rooms there for a couple of eons. Washed my window and took out of town towards West-Point. Detouring past the old homestead, saw not much going on there, further investigation is needed. Crimson's guy said at dinner that he wanted to have it a sure thing this model stuff Now if someone wanted proof that I and the club is real, all one would need do is go look. Yes that big house was ours, that big fat 300 acres of prime farm land was ours and the money we rather I get from harvest from thereof, is not proof, then short of the return of Jesus, wouldn't prove it.
So off down the old road, the feeder pipe under the road that still offers just enough lift at 60mph, gave me and Johnny a bit of a uplifting experience. Yes this is Hazzard. Or at least as much of an identical place as what ya'll saw on The Dukes. Hagerman got the nickname Hazzard Idaho in 1984 and like it or not still shows its ready to be rejuvinated again. Coming out of the Quail housing project, was looking elsewhere and if not for Hazzard driving experience the General and us might have been toast. As it is there's some serious black marks on that pavement. Saw the old Boars Nest, it does look nice.
What I have noticed though is that for all these doubting sisters and upcoming prospects to the Club, if you doubt, lets go look, I'll show you its deffinately worth your time.
So coming home , stopped off at this turn out, shut off the General, popped open a Bud, and Johnny and I looked into the sky, and I remembered, that beyond the Knytes, beyond the tush's for poster pin up girls, and all of that, the cow smells, the hay smells, its this open sky, this is why I moved back to Hazzard.
TTYLY
Last week this time I was all aflutter putting the ad projects in line and life looking good. A person with drive and ability and all in the command seat of the modeling talent recruitment and training, so I could get my body headed into the direction of building bikes and going toewing, but that was last week. Since Sunday that I skipped Church for, some major talent find pow wow's and all and it comes to pass, that about the only talent we have is Crimson. The rest have pretty much bugged out. Now I know that once the locals here see Crimson on billboards just outside of town, and on TV both local as well as on Velocity, on our big rig truck customizing TV show etc, coming direct from here in Wendell, and of course Hazzard, the rest of the hold back honeys will be begging for a spot in our menagerie. As it is guess what ? Its Crimson and I.
I was naive in thinking that in just what 5 years attitudes and all would change here in our area. More over thinking that just because It's us in both the Knytes and the WolfPack, were the foundation of the casting. Many forgetting there was an era that the clubs and I together could buy and sell the entire county, and many places outside of it. The fact that many fat cows from Governor Otter to The Simplot's gained much of their financial wealth, from the Montgomery Foundation. The growth that this valley has had in the last 15 years or even longer than that came directly and indirectly from the Knytes/WolfPack and or Montgomery Foundation. All these Quick Response Medical Units were started by myself and the Knytes. That fancy ass'd fire station, in Hazzard itself, 80% of the bank on that came from the Montgomery Foundation. The fact that two corrupt politicians a county tax money bean counter and a real estate broker, stole my home near Hazzard, I have never complaigned about. However there is payment due, and favors that need to be paid up. I'm in this cute little house now, and I ain't going anywhere. This now is my home, but simple things like the radio station, talent agency and promotion gigs for my shop, toew service and yes the Club, need to be honored. So all these stuck up little twats, put away the shield of your so called sweet lies, and put nylons on your thighs and get up here and do photography for the Knytes/WolfPack Guys.
TTYLY
