I’m Vernon Dozier and I know many of you know who I am. Do you know what is in that picture down there? You don’t? That’s called a c-u-….It’s called a you know what. It’s called a c-word, is what it’s called. It’s also my mother-in-law, Debbie Dockton. 
Oh, Jesus.
I married her daughter Stephanie when Stephanie had just graduated BelMar, where I teach. She was 18. Not 17. Not 16. She was 18 and the last I checked that’s legal in the sovereign state of California so that thing in the picture can shut the clean-out under it’s nose. But it doesn’t. Let me tell you what a cun….God, I wish I could say it. Let me tell you what a c-u-n-(and the next letter rhymes with “P”) is. It’s a woman that starts a problem when no problem needed to be started. When everything was fine, nice and calm, it walked into the house and gave you that look. When everyone was getting along, it decided it would open old wounds. See, the C thinks it’s ‘clearing up old business,” “getting to it,” “not hiding from the truth.” But a C never does get to the truth. Under the guise of wanting to get to the truth the C just wants to see you bleed from the eyes again. It wants to go over and over and over the night…oh I don’t know…let’s say the night it’s daughter graduated from high school and the worst man in the world, the guy it calls “Pervernon” because that word helps make it laugh and keeps the muscles in its face from atrophy, grabbed Stephanie from the stage and took off. About 20 minutes later, when it was driving home with the long suffering, stooped and beaten chew-toy it calls a husband, it spotted my truck parked at cabin 4, Blue Moon Motel. 
My mother-in-law took this picture of my truck parked, cabin 4..
Oh my God let’s have a coronary. It’s a wedding night. But ever since that night, I’ve had to listen to it. Typical night. Phone rings. Me: “Hello” The C: “Oh, hi Pervernon. Can I talk to OFS?” “OFS” stands for “operation: field slut.” So, I’m a pervert but it’s own daughter is a field slut because it married…or I mean she married me. There’s a 31 year age difference. So what? What if I married the C instead? She’s closer to my age. Why not? Well, I would have but Debbie…that’s my mother in law, the C…Debbie, instead of being OFS is OTA and that interferes with setting up OPT. There, try figuring that out, C-Word!
Glossary
OFA–Operation: Trucked Face
OPP–Operation: Poontang
I wanna ask one other question. What is this “Float On” bullshit. What the living hell?
