What ever happened to Skeeter "Left Nut" McGee?

I wonder what became of Skeeter McGee.

I remember back when I was living in a double-wide up in Cracker Hollow, we'd git drunk on Skeeter's home-made bathtub gin and Pappy'd pull out the old guitar and my Uncle Doodlybob'd pull out his jug (he was a little grabby, but boy could that man play the jug), and they'd git to playin' some o' that sweet jugband music. And after a while I'd go and git the washtub bass and I'd start a pluckin' along, and my girl--Ethyl was her name--she'd pull out my ol' mouth organ, and before we'd know it, there'd be a hoedown breakin' out!

The neighbors'd all come over, and there'd be more of Skeeter's gin for all, and eventually ol' Skeeter'd end up passed out in the driveway with his pants down around his ankles and Big Earl and Wilbur'd be takin' pictures of him in sexual positions with whatever dead animal they could find laying around at the time...I remember one time Big Earl and Wilbur were out front posing him with a 'possum that they thought was dead...just as Big Earl had finished wrapping the thing's little paws around Skeeter's privates, it woke up and went wild. Took a good chunk out of Big Earl's nose. But he was the lucky one. Although, considering where the little critter's claws and teeth were at the time of the incident, I guess it could have been worse for Skeeter too, or, as we call him now behind his back, ol' Left Nut.

I haven't seen ol' Left Nut--I mean, Skeeter, for quite a while. Last time I talked to him was at Pappy's funeral back a few years. At the time, he was tryin' out a new thing...said it was his way of takin' back the phrase, "trailer trash", and makin' it mean somethin' positive, like it should. His method was to go around slapping any random woman he saw on the ass and saying, "Hey, trailer trash, that is my kind of ca-BOOSE!!!"

Anyway...

<raises a plastic cup filled with bathtub gin>

Here's to you, Skeet, ya crazy one-balled bastard...where ever you are.