Kay’s up to her eyeballs editing her novel, Murder on Music Row so she’s letting me blog and I’m so damned excited I’m about to pee in my pants. (Oops…She said if I cussed I couldn’t blog again, so forget I said damned.)
My name’s Loralee (Lor to my friends) and I’m Nan’s best friend in the whole wide world. (Remember Nan? She did this blog thing last Friday—and did a great job too. I’m proud as punch for her.) Anyways me and Nan have been joined at the hip since I transferred to FRA in 7th grade. Franklin Road Academy is the private school Nan went to since kindergarten. I liked her right off the bat ‘cause she came right up to me and introduced herself. She said she’d show me the ropes. I thought that was pretty gutsy ‘specially since I was about a foot taller than her. (She hadn’t had her growth spurt yet.) But we hit it off like bees on honey and I ended up spending the weekend at her house. Her and her parents made me feel like family. I even lived with them senior year ‘cause my man-chasing momma moved to Kentucky to be near her online soul mate.
I’m a country music singer and I’m good enough to get a few gigs around town. I ain’t had my big break yet, but I can feel it’s acoming in my bones. In fact, the day Randy got hisself killed I was singing at Tootsie’s (in the airport, not downtown, but it’s a start). Of course I know Nan didn’t do it. I know her better than anybody and she just don’t have it in her bones to hurt nothing. Hell, I mean heck, she even takes spiders and crap like that outside instead of just squashing them and being done with it.
Anyways, Nan’s in a pickle ‘cause somebody clobbered her sorry, good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend with one of his own doggone Grammys and then he went and died from it. His timing was piss-poor (as always) ‘cause Nan’s the one who done found him. He was still alive when she got there so of course she called 911. Now would she of gone and done that if she’d hit him herself? No, duh! The Nashville cops sure don’t act like the ones on Law and Order ‘cause when Randy up and died at Vanderbilt Hospital, they came knocking on Nan’s front door. They even had the balls to take her downtown for questioning. But she’s got so many friends a lawyer was there to spring her before they could say squat.
Some people say I go on and on and on, so I’ll end this here blog post for now…especially since I know I’ll be back soon. Why I hardly cussed at all and who could stay mad at me even I did? See you next time!