Thinking Outside the Squirrel

I live near Buda, TX.  Which has nothing to do with the Buddah.  In fact, it’s prounced Buuuda – long u.  It’s some jumbled misremembered derivation of the Spanish, Czech or  Cheyenne word for, “Place Where Train Stops Too Quickly After Austin and Annoys Passengers.”

But since I never let the facts pull focus from the truth, I’m going to start a completely unsubstantiated rumor that Buda, TX is in fact the long whispered though never revealed astral vacation spot for THE Buddah.

I have it on good authority (mine) that years ago the Buddah would astral project himself into the future and hang with the home boys and girls at the local Sonic and enjoy a cherry limeaid or six.   He’d check out the startlingly lifelike taxodermy exhibit, “Kill Mountain,” at Cabelas.   His buda-belly would jiggle and bounce as he sprinted during  the annual, “Running of the Weiner Dogs.”  And being a long time collector of central Texas kitsch, he’d purchase a surprisingly life-like velvet portrait of Lady Gaga at Budafest.

Don’t believe me?  Come see for yourself.  In fact, the Buddah is sitting right across from me at the Cracker Barrel shoveling in a third order of biscuits and gravy.

Wait.  No.

That’s a Bubba, not a Buddah.

Nevermind.

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