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Day 1: I got my marching orders from Colonel Flanders over yonder at the depot, "Gertie, them boys overseas need your trackin abilities and good cookin." I packed up my duct tape and bacon grease and was on a plane that night.
Day 2: I arrived a real secret place and fell into bed. Hob-nobbin with them generals and politicians can wear a soul out. After a few hours, I was up and at em - raring to go. Colonel Flanders set up me a meeting with the ... whoops ... I can't tell y'all, but they are real mean American fellers and I'm related to half of em. I can't wait to start my trackin' class and to catch up on all the family gossip.
Day 3: Today was a hoot. Them boys already know how to track Saddam's fellers. Cooter was playing around in his airplane and made this for Saddam.
Cooter just cracks me up. I couldn't take a picture of what he wrote first cuz I can't talk like that in polite company. It was real funny though.
Day 4: Today we worked on settin up a mine field. Here I am with the fellers right before we started digging. Speaking of digging, them sand fleas were awful.
Colonel Flanders said we had to be real careful when we set the mines in them holes. I didn't understand why since these were just plain old cans of Spam, but he said these were special cans. They was first bought back in the 1950's and was stored out at Uncle Cletus's shed with the squirrel jerky and onions.
Here's a close up picture of our handywork. I'm real proud of my pork. I can't believe them Iraq folks don't like it. Ah well, all the more bacon grease for me.
Day 5: We loaded up in them big trucks and drove closer to Baghdad. On the way we came up on some fellers waving white flags. The Colonel said they may not be refugees and that it might be a trick. I told him he just needed to look at their grins. If they was smiling like they was about to each a big ol' heaping bowl of peach cobbler, then they was really refugees. But, if they was grinning like Cousin Floyd after he blew out one of them silent but deadly farts, then we oughta look out.
Sure nuff, they had peach cobbler grins, so we rounded em up and handed out some of the military rations. I offered them some fried cracklins, pinto beans, fried okra, mashed taters, and cornbread but they said it was agin their religion. Hmm. Ain't that a shame?
Day 6: This morning bein the Lord's day n'all, I decided to have a little prayer meetin with the fellers. I didn't force em, I just said, "Hey y'all, I'm gonna talk about Jesus and if you're interested, you can pull up some sand and sit a spell. There ain't nuthin as invigoratin as praising Jesus and catchin a whiff of that lovin Holy Spirit."
After getting a heapin a dose of the Lord, Cooter walked up and said, "You know them Iraqis are just the opposite of us, Gert. They don't love Jesus and they ain't never found out how good pork is."
This evening, I unpacked some of that special Spam and cooked it over an open fire. In a loud voice, I started talkin about how much Jesus loved me and suddenly Cletus started speakin in tongues. I didn't understand a word he said, but one of them Iraqis started crying and throwin a fit. Our translator said, "Gertrude, you not will believe this but Cletus say that Jesus love Islam and pork is good in fire." Well, ain't that the berries? The next thing ya know, them Iraqis are stuffin Spam down their pie holes and shouting out, "Praise the Lord!" And "Pass the barbecue!" Yep, we done good tonight!
Day 7: It was hotter'n a goat's butt in a pepper patch today. That sand just seems to make the heat worse. We was real bored today - all the activity must be goin on somewhere else.
My cousin Daisy was having her monthly visitor, and got real inspired made a right purty pair of patriotic house shoes with her maxipads. See?
The menfolk got all embarrassed and wouldn't wear em. Shoot, they don't know what they was missing. Talk about soft and absorbant! Just the right thang for tired sweaty feet! This'll be a great gift idear!
Day 8: Well, we heard that the war is purt'near over. Cletus made a recoggienance survey behind enemy lines and got a picture of Saddam having a big time with that information minister feller.
Flanders said we had to go back home. Ah, well. It was fun while it lasted.
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