I attempted to take my dog outside Saturday afternoon and found an older woman in my yard jumping near a tree attempting to pick what appeared to be fruit from it.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” I asked the lady. She was in her mid to late fifties [Ed. Note: Older?!?] with curly brown hair done in a certain style perfected by old women’s beauty parlors in the South. She wore blue shorts and a tri-colored sleeveless shirt.
“Not unless you’re going to help me pick these peaches, fatbody” she replied. Continue reading

