26/07/2025
“Mornin’, y’all. It’s me, Ol’ Rusty the Tractor, and lemme tell ya… this week’s gonna be rougher than a corncob in a outhouse.”
Monday: Sun’s already beatin’ on my hood like a mad wife with a fryin’ pan. By noon I’ll be sweatin’ oil. Y’all best park in the shade if ya love yourself.
Tuesday: Hotter’n two pigs fightin’ in a wool sock. I’m thinkin’ ‘bout tradin’ my diesel for sweet tea just to stay cool.
Wednesday: Humidity so thick even my exhaust pipe’s stickin’ to itself. Expect mirages of mud puddles—don’t trust ‘em, they’s just heat ghosts.
Thursday: Devil’s stoppin’ by for a vacation. He called ahead, said it’s cooler in Hell than in North Carolina right now. Lucky bastard.
Friday: Coolin’ off to a breezy 94°, which is what we tractors call “sweat less, stink more” weather.
Saturday: Air’s thicker than Grandma’s possum stew. Breathing’s optional. I might just hold mine ‘til dark.
Sunday: 47% chance of spontaneous combustion. 100% chance I ain’t plowin’ a damn thing.