Buford

Continuing on with the fake name thing to protect the innocent or the not-so-innocent, whatever the case may be, my husband shall henceforth be known as Buford on this blog. Why Buford you ask? Well, given his Southern origins, that could've easily been his name along with Billy Bob, Earl, D-Wayne, or Larry (as in The Cable Guy). What I are sayin' is that he are a redneck and pretty proud of it. His co-workers began calling him Dr. Buford sometime back as a pun...something about speaking the King's English and they didn't mean Elvis.
Buford loves biscuits, gravy, pork chops, chicken livers and pork rinds. He ain't a half bad cook but I always keep a Condemned Tag handy just in case he makes "Driveway Patchin' Chili" or "Death by Garlic" spaghetti sauce. And if you ever have a cow that needs put back together, he can do that too. Probably with his eyes closed. Like those weird guys that can do the rubic's cubes behind their backs. His scientific mind is the polar opposite of my creative one. I think we spend a lot of time looking at each other and saying, "Huh?"
All in all, he's a pretty good man to have around especially since he got this shiny new laptop all up and running for me...without it this blog would never have been born. Although I have been "pregnant" with it for some months now. So thanks honey, I love ya and Go Vols!