I knew I had a reputation as a trouble maker and tended to drink a little too much too often but I never expected the news to travel so fast to the new preacher at the Baptist Church on the corner.
He knocked on my door late last night and when I finally staggered over and got the door open, Brother Butters told me that he "wanted to see my sorry ass in church the next morning.
I told him he might just as well ask for the moon, and then I showed him!
So here I sit on my sorry ass in the last pew on Sunday morning with a broken tail bone.
