Surly With The Fringe On Top

Marge was kind of at a crossroads in her life. Things at the go-go country western bar were slow of late, mostly because the truckers had been stuck in the ice storm up Gulverton way. Her ex-boyfriend was kind of being a pest about the trailer, when he knew damn well she paid for it with her own dance tips. And worst of all, those loafers were giving her a humdinger of a corn on her big toe. "I guess not everything is sunshine and roses," thought Marge, shifting her feet, "but at least I've got most of my own damn teeth."