In a little roadhouse off the beaten tracks is where I did find her.

She was riding with the hells angels till they kicked her out for being to ruff.

And yet at seventeen the way she could down a budweiser and burb hello ******.


Was a site to be held and i thought to myself

as she broke a pool cue over a man's head who played a song she didnt

like I knew i had met the woman of my dreams.


Sure she drank like a fish cussed like a sailor and hit like a frieght train.

But aside from all thoose good qualitys I like in a woman she did have her hang up's.

Its kinda bad when your first date involves knocking over a seven eleven and leading on

the cops on a five state chase.


And Im not bitter she didnt slow down to let me off.

Im mean the road rash wasnt that bad and I needed to drop a couple of pounds

of course it gives a whole new meaning to burning off the pounds.


And when I saw her about two months later I could tell there was something

there as she held a knife to my throat and looked into my blood shot eye's

and said.

Im gonna cut out your tongue out if you dont buy me a beer.


Yes this beer drinking spitfire had me at hey what the ******* lookin at ****** ?

What a true lady indeed.

Yes when i finally came outta a coma after that first night togather i knew.


That i probaly shouldnt drink outta open containers.

Or carry cash or major credit cards.

When going out with a five foot three spifire named Skeeter.