Cleaning out a junk box left over from a fishing trip years ago, I found it: A purple and gold LSU coozie. It belonged to a half-breed Cherokee fishing buddy of mine who claimed to be a medicine man. He obviously left the coozie behind for nefarious purposes.
I took the coozie, stuck a pin through it, tied it up in a Walmart bag that had fish guts and scales in it, and buried it near the burn pile. The curse is broken.
You can thank me later.
I took the coozie, stuck a pin through it, tied it up in a Walmart bag that had fish guts and scales in it, and buried it near the burn pile. The curse is broken.
You can thank me later.