Why hello little ladies, step right up for the one, the only, Scoot R. Boot, esq., III. Back on here cause right about now I'd like to be doin' less chuggin' and more huggin' and I think you know what I'm talkin' bout. Last month I thought I might have found a lady friend to call my own. In the tradition of the male portion of my family, I screwed it up. In a literal sense I ran over her mailbox and was countin' sheep in the hen house. And in a literal sense, she gave me the boot. What I mean is in an attempt to drag me out my good foot got caught on a rusty nail in the barn and so to make a long story short and if it ain't to much trouble, you'll be drivin'. Message me the old fashion way: pigeon, snail mail or whatever you fancy and let's ride this rascal into the sunset!