After three solid days of rain, it’s not surprising that folks around here are eager to get outdoors. I’ve spent most of the day on the deck, myself, either writing or blogging or staring off into space. Until just a few minutes ago, that is.

That’s when cars began pulling up to the obnoxiously loud family’s house. Apparently, like draws like, because all of the women piling out of these cars wear their hair just as big, their heels just as high as my annoying neighbor lady. Oh, and their voices are just as big, too.

See, these people don’t wait until they’re at the front door to greet their hosts. Instead the throw open their SUV doors and begin hollering, “We’re here! You ain’t starting without us, are ya?” before the engine’s even turned off. I swear I’m in a weird other-world where women dress like they just stepped out of Good Fellas while the men look more like something from a Cohn Brothers flick.

To make matters worse, some yeehaw just pulled up with a pickup burdened with not one but two - two! - kegs. Because, you know, that’s what this area needs: more drunk rednecks eager tottering around in stilletos and Tony Lamas on an open-air deck where everyone can - and must - hear them and their damn music. Which right now, for your edification, is Achy Breaky Heart.

I don’t know whether to shoot them or myself.

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