Here lately I’ve been reading a lot of romances involving military men. More often than not, they are being held prisoner in the enemy’s camp, and somehow a woman gets thrown in the mix. Now, the soldier has been a prisoner for days or weeks and allowed very little if any personal hygiene. But still the woman and soldier end up crawling all over each other in the heat of lust. And all I can think is, doesn’t he stink worse than a pig farm? When was the last time the inside of his mouth saw a toothbrush? And she’s got her tongue roaming around in there? Icky!

The poor heroine in the last book I read didn’t even get the benefit of her hero being handsome, not that it’s a big deal, but he stunk and was ugly, not a good combination, but every time I turned around they were kissing and pawing each other until I wanted to scream, “Good grief! Rip off all your clothes, do the nasty, and be done with it and get the freak out of there!” I mean, gosh, if they stop to kiss every five minutes, their grandbabies will be graduating from high school before they manage to escape!

I heard my current favorite country song today by Trace Adkins. It’s a sexist song, but it makes me laugh. I told my brother about it, and he said, “What in the hell is a badonkadonk?”

Honky Tonk Badonkadonk

Performed by Trace Adkins

Turn it up some
Alright boys, this is her favorite song
You know that right
So, if we play it good and loud
She might get up and dance again
Ooh, she put her beer down
Here she comes
Here she comes
Left left left right left
Whoo

Husslers shootin' eightball
Throwin' darts at the wall
Feelin' damn near 10 ft. tall
Here she comes, Lord help us all
Ol' T.W.'s girlfriend done slapped him outta his chair
Poor ole boy, it ain't his fault
It's so hard not to stare
At that honky tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on
Like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There outta be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how's she even get them britches on
That honky tonk badonkadonk
(Aww son)

Now Honey, you can't blame her
For what her mama gave her
You ain't gotta hate her
For workin' that money-maker
Band shuts down at two
But we're hangin' out till three
We hate to see her go
But love to watch her leave
With that honky tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on
Like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There outta be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how's she even get them britches on
With that honky tonk badonkadonk
(Ooh, that's what I'm talkin' bout right there, honey)

We don't care bout the drinkin'
Barely listen to the band
Our hands, they start a shakin'
When she gets the urge to dance
Drivin' everybody crazy
You think you fell in love
Boys, you better keep your distance
You can look but you can't touch
That honkey tonk badonkadonk
Keepin' perfect rhythm
Make ya wanna swing along
Got it goin' on
Like Donkey Kong
And whoo-wee
Shut my mouth, slap your grandma
There outta be a law
Get the Sheriff on the phone
Lord have mercy, how's she even get them britches on
That honky tonk badonkadonk

That honky tonk badonkadonk
Yeah, that honky tonk badonkadonk

(That's it, right there boys, that's why we do what we do
It ain't for the money, it ain't for the glory, it ain't for the free whiskey
It's for the badonkadonk)

~*~

I know! I know! It’s a totally stupid song, but it does have a beat that makes you wanna dance.

Well, I’d better hit the hay! I gotta head out to the rock yard tomorrow and help mom pack about 20 ton of rock. Catch y’all later!