Friday, July 31, 2009

Southern Living, Pt 7, Back to the Flatlands

Well, this will be a brief blog, cause my time back in Greenwood was brief.
As I entered the 5th grade, we moved back to our old house in Greenwood,Ms.
I started the 5th grade at W.C.Williams Elementary School. My teacher was Mrs. McCain.
There wasn't a lot to talk about and I won't talk a lot about it!
As I said, we moved back into our old house, which was a 1 bedroom shotgun style house. No bedroom for me, we all shared one bedroom.
We couldn't get anything on our shiny Philco black and white tv, cause the nearest stations were either in Jackson, Ms., or Memphis ,Tn.
The only things worth speaking of were the time I spent with my most favorite uncle, Alvin Storey. He was a postman at the time, and I would walk with him on his mail delivery rounds. I learned a lot from Uncle Alvin, both good and not so good. But if he can see this blog from heaven, he will know that I really loved him.
The 7 months we spent there were completely unmemorable, but stay tuned for part 8, We Move to Moorhead.
There, my life got infinitely more interesting and exciting!

Monday, July 27, 2009

Southern Living, Pt.6, My Last Year as a Coonass

OK, I'm back.
My last year as a Coonass was the 4th grade. I've told ya almost all the fun I had in Southern La., except fer a few memorable moments.
Lessee, I went into band in the 4th grade down there. I learned to play the trombone. This was mostly brought about by two friends of the family. Buster and Etta Nelmes. They were foster children of the Fosters. I always thought it was weird, people named Foster having "foster" children. Anyhow, Buster was a trombone player and looking at him as a Big Brother figure, I took up the trombone. Learnt to play it pretty well, I think. By the way, if anybody reading this happens to know Buster or Etta, I surely would like to communicate with them. They're bound to be in their late 60's or 70 by now!
Anyhow, I loved 'em dearly!
Lets see, we had a helluva hurricane that year! I don't remember the name of it. Might have been BECKY! We holed up in the General Store/Post Office where my Mama was working. My cousin Pete was visiting that summer. I remember getting back in the room where they kept bags of feed and such and building us a fort of sorts outta feed sacks. You could watch the walls of that old building rippling like water in the high winds. No crap, they rippled just like waves! It was a SCARY time. I member Pete needing to go to the privy, (toilet, outside) for you non initiated. I LOCKED him inside fer a while, til Mama made me let him out. Anyhow, after the storm, water was coming into the building, it was about 3 feet off the ground! Lots of rain fell. If any of you remember, that hurricane about wiped out Cameron, La. About 20 miles away. Killed about 50 people. But the water was up to my little scrawny neck down at ground level. Probably why they built the houses so high off the ground!
Nudder thang I remember was coming home from church one Sunday Night. We went to church at Big Cane Baptist Church. Must have been 10 or 15 miles from home. Anyhow we were going home after church one Sunday nite when my Daddy saw a guy walking along the road that he thought worked at the sawmill. He stopped to pick him up. As it turned out, this wasn't anybody Daddy knew, and he was as drunk as Cooter Brown! He told Daddy where he wanted to go and Dad said he'd take him. My Mama made me get in the front seat, and this old drunk leaned against the back of the front seat and commenced to talking and blowing his inebriated breath all over the front. Well, we had to pass our house in order to get where we were taking him and I remember my Mama telling Daddy to stop at the house for a minute. She went in for about 30 seconds and got back in the car. Back on the road, drunk against the back of the front seat, and Mama stuck the barrel of that ole .45 right up his nose! Told him to "Sit back in his seat, and we'd take him where he wanted to go!"
INSTANT SOBRIETY! This guy said,"Juss lemmee out lady and I'll walk from here!" "Nope", my Mama said , "You're in for the ride"
When we finally got to where that guy wanted to go, he SPRUNG from the back and LEAPED over a split rail fence! Funniest thing I have ever seen, bar none!
The Good Ole Days, no doubt!
Another thing I remember was swimming in the Mill Pond. That's where the water for the steam boilers came from. Anyhow, we'd go swimming in the mill pond. I usta wear a life vest when I got in. One Sunday afternoon, we weren't going swimming, but were walking around the pond, there was a little black girl out there swimming. Daddy said to me, "When are you gonna learn to swim?" I said, "I can swim now Daddy, watch!" I instantly stripped off and jumped in the pond! Nekkid as a jaybird!! Last time I wore the life jacket!
Unless I remember some old Louisiana stories, stay tuned for, "Southern Living, Pt. 7, Back to the Flatlands"
BTW, Sam, Alison and Casey, Yo Grandmaw never took crap off'n ANYBODY!!! So don't any of yall start!

Friday, July 24, 2009

Southern Living, Pt.5, Pre Coonass

Let me drop back a couple of years to my time in Rosedale, Ms.
Now these were interesting and fun years to me. I moved to Rosedale halfway thru the second grade. I remember quite a bit from my year there. First thing I remember is meeting my oldest, and longlastingest friend, Charles Simmons. He lived next door to me in the final house we came to rest in. We actually lived in 3 houses the first couple of months. He is a year younger than me, which will put him at about 61 now. Anyhow, both our houses backed up to the Miss. River Levee. We spent many happy hours exploring, walking the levee, and most of all taking turns in rolling each other down the levee while rolled up in an old tire. You would get in the tire and your partner would roll you down the levee. After you got thru staggering around for a while, you'd repeat it with your friend in the tire. Great fun. Dangerous, probably. Your parents approve? Hell no! But fun? HAIL YEA!!! If I saw my kids doing that I would Shit a Squealing Worm! (What is a squealing worm, anyhow?)
I also learned to ride a bike using Charles's sisters bike. I member that well.
I think his daddy worked for Kroger or somethin like that.
Anyhow, at Rosedale, I had my VERY FIRST girlfriend. I remember taking her to see THOUSAND LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA at the local pitcher show. She was sho nuff sweet, I sometimes remember her and wonder what ever happened to her.
I also remember going to the sawmill where my daddy worked and playing in the sawdust pile with the little black kids. We were really biased and bigoted in those days. Shit! Any playmate you could find was a good one. We really didn't know or care what color we were, we just had a good time. That's the way it SHOULD STILL BE!
Anyhow, let me get back to Charles. We moved from Rosedale to La. halfway thru the third grade and I never saw Chas. again til about 1966 or 67. I was wandering the halls of Stanton Hall, a boys dorm at MDJC. I heard a voice and tracked it down and INSTANTLY recognized my old friend Charles, some years later. He was somewhat larger and older, but the same friend I knew in Rosedale. We have kept somewhat in contact ever since. Anyhow, there are a lot more Rosedale stories I will tell someday, but in midwinter of 1954 (I think) we moved to LeMoyen Louisiana, where I will eventually rejoin my blog of MY Life as a Coonass.
73 fer now

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Southern Living, Pt.4, My Life as a Coonass

to continue this series, we jump to the ripe old age of 8 and a half. Halfway thru the third grade in Rosedale, my Daddy took a job in LeMoyne La. I haven't said much about Rosedale, but I may go back to it someday.
Now LeMoyne consisted of a sawmill, 3 houses for the employees, a combination general store and post office and the quarters. The quarters was where all the black and mixed folk lived. It is located on hwy 71 about 20 miles south of Bunkie, La.
I went to school in Morrow, about 5 miles north.
Southern Louisiana is literally the BEST place in the world for an 8 year old boy to grow up in. We had a two bedroom shotgun house with electricity and indoor water (sort of). A fireplace for heat in the winter sufficed. It don't get bad cold down there elsewise we'd probably have froze to death.
Lets talk about the indoor water first. The water came from a big tank mounted beside the house which caught water from the roof when it rained. And it rains often. But in late July and August, the water would have wiggletails in it when you drew a glass to drink. So, you kept a sock by the tap to strain out the wigglers. Worked just fine and as you all know, I didn't die from it. We eventually got a well, but that comes later.
As I said, southern La., is a boys paradise. Across the road from my house was a railroad track and beyond that was a bayou. In the mornings, the yard would be full of crawfish mounds. You needed only a piece of string and a small piece of bacon to get all the fish bait you needed. Tie the bacon to the end of the string and drop it down the hole. When ya felt the crawfish grab it, pull him out and drop him into a pail. After you caught a few, you got your pole, went across the highway and fished with crawdaddy tails til you got all you wanted. Carry em home and the family had fish fer supper.
The people of southern La, are without a doubt, the friendliest folks I ever met. I NEVER met a stranger down there. They liked me cause I talked funny and I liked them cause they liked me. After a short while, we all got to be able to understand each other.
I made lots of friends thruout the third and fourth grade, Tommy Stevens and Richard (pronounced Reeshard)SOMETHING ending with Deaux, were my two best buddies. I also had a girlfriend named (DAMN, OLD AGE IS HELL!).
On weekends, Momma and Daddy would take me fishing at another bayou. The water was crystal clear and you could pick out the fish you wanted from the bank. Find him, drop a hook in front of him and several seconds later, Momma would have him in the frying pan that was over the fire Daddy had built. This was living!
About a year after we moved there, Daddy bought our first tv. 1956, what a GREAT year! The tv was a 19", black and white Philco. We got about 3 or 4 stations from Lafayette and Opolusas. Sky King, Bilko, Hennessy, Highway Patrol and the Rifleman to name a few. Momma always liked Queen for a DAY! Entertainment at its best. No hidden agendas from the networks, no politics, just entertainment.
Well, none of my blogs are complete without an amusing part, so here are a couple
Now, I was 8 or 9, so my Momma was 28 or 29, it was always easy to member my Mommas age since she was almost 20 years older than me. Anyhow, one day a truckload of Redbones pulled up and drove behind the house. A Redbone, for you undereducated, is a mixture of black and creole. Anyhow, Momma went to the back porch and asked them what they wanted. They looked at her a minute and went back to jabbering amongst themselves. She asked again what they wanted. Same thing. She said in a loud and clear voice, "I BET BY GOD YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT!", whereupon she went into the house and came back out with the good old .45 revolver! (yes, it is the one you have now Sam) You never seen such a sight as a half dozen Redbones LEAPING over a truck and ducking down! After she kept them a cowering about 10 minutes, the foreman drove up and told Mama (he spoke english, they didn't) that they were there to drill us a well.
Shoot, this is getting long, I will continue it later.....Stay tuned for My Life as a Coonass, pt2.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Southern living, Pt.3, Living in the Sticks

As some of you know, I was born in Greenwood Mississippi. The house we lived in when I was born and until I got out of the first grade was a simple little one bedroom shotgun house. It did have inside plumbing, electricity and so forth. Seemed good to me.
However, when I got out of school from the first grade, my daddy took a job in Rosedale, Ms, and we couldn't find a house to live in, so my momma and me went to live with my grandparents, in Coila, Ms., while Daddy roomed in Rosedale.
Now, as I have blogged, my grandparents were simple cotton farmers. No electricity, no indoor plumbing. There was a cistern (well) in the front of the house that ya dropped a bucket down into to get your water. Coal oil lamps sufficed after dark, the outhouse was about 75 feet out back. On Saturday afternoon, momma would pull up enough water to fill up a washtub on the front porch, the sun would warm it up and you'd get your bath for the week about 4 PM Saddy evenin! Now, horrible as it may sound, I didn't know any better. There was a roof over my head, I never missed a meal, I was never neglected nor abused, and I HAD A BALL!
I had no less than 8 cousins within a quarter mile, 3 of them were close to my age, and we played cowboy, soldier and so forth from morning til dark. Pete Floyd, one of my favorite cousins, was only a few months older than me and we were inseparable! Our favorite thing in the summer was to go down to the crick (creek for you that don't speak southern), and swim. Course the crick was only about 10" deep, but we'd waller out a hole in the sand and enjoy the heck out of it!
One of the things I remember from those days was on cold autumn nites, there was a panther that would run up the road screaming. It was a horrible sound. I would scrootch down in my feather mattress and try to literally wrap myself up in it. There were always 4 or 5 dogs around, but when that panther went a'screaming, they were ALL under the house moaning and whimpering. Wasn't a one of em that was up to chasing THAT cat! I sometimes wonder if any of that cat's ancestors are still around there.
Grandaddy would make molasses from sugar cane, I'd ride the old mule turning the sorghum mill and shoot all kinds of wild indians from his back. would milk a cow in the morning, churn butter, and bring in kindling and stovewood.
In the morning, my granny would ALWAYS bake a pan of biscuits, fry up some bacon and eggs. Course my favorite thing was buttering em with my hard churned butter.
Anyway, time went on, we found a house in Rosedale and left the grandparents. Spent a year and a half there before moving to southern Louisiana.
Stay tuned for pt 4, "My Life as a COONASS!"

Perrier or Pump?

I blogged the other day about the cost of beer as opposed to the cost of bottled water.
My friend, The Grouch kindly commented and got me thinking about water.
I will share with you some of my findings.
First, I drink pump water. I am not on a municipal water system. I have a 120 ft. well. The only treatment my water gets is that it is run thru a whole house particulate filter. I put this in only a couple of months ago as a result of my pump impeller going bad and sending up some plastic shavings. I replaced the pump but kept the filter.
I like the taste of my water and did several years ago have it tested as to its purity. It passed with wonderfully flying colors. I don't like the taste of chlorine, am not in favor of flouride or any other chemicals being added to my water.
At work, I drink bottled water that comes from a company who freely tells me that their water is simply re-filtered municipal water. Tastes alright and is wet.
Below, I am going to put a table in that I got off the internet.

Kind of scary, aint it?
I am not urging you to change your habits, I just want you to decide if a one cent glass of tap water tastes better or worse than a $1.00 plus bottle of store bought water. If you are going to be traveling, get you a couple of water bottles and freeze them. Time you get thirsty, it will have changed from ice back to water.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Southern Living, Pt.2, Gittin Yo Ass Beat!

Told ya I'd find it. Above are Alphea and George Washington Storey. Two GREAT Americans and Grandparents!
What I was looking for is a picture of my maternal Grandfather. His name was George Washington Storey. He was and remains to me today a great American and an ideal role model, especially for a kid growing up in the 50's. Now my grandaddy was a largely uneducated, poor, white farmer, residing in the Miss. Delta. He and my grandmother, Alphea, birthed and raised 11 children of which my mother was the youngest. So, as you might guess, Grandaddy was pretty old by the time I came along. I grew up with a busload of cousins, some of which were older than my momma. But, nevertheless, he always had time for me, until the day he died.
What I am about to tell you is the very first time I ever got my ass beat tho'. I was 5 years old, so it was 1952. My Grandaddy was out plowing behind a mule. I was sitting on an old, rusty crosscut saw he had to cut up kindling with. Everytime he would come to my end of the row, he would tell me to git off that saw before I cut myself, and I would in turn, throw a clod of dirt at the mule. About the 15th time he told me to get off the saw, and about the 15th time I threw a clod at the mule, I made the fatal mistake of calling him an "old shitass".
Well, he laid the reins to the mule down, walked slowly over to me, and gave me an ass whuppin that I remember to this day. He give me a whuppin that was a great, righteous kinda whuppin. I promise you, I never ever even considered calling him an old shitass again.
Didn't love him any less, but he gained a lifetime of respect in about a minute. Well, you say, that is child abuse! He should have explained proper etiquette! Believe me, he did.
Nowadays, you cannot spank a child. teachers in school cannot spank a child. Corporal punishment is taboo and forbidden. CRAP! It worked on me, my parents, grandparents and also on my children.
A good, well deserved ass whuppin has and always will work, despite what any bleeding hearts may want ya to believe.
Otherwise, how else would I remember, 57 years later, not to call my Grandaddy an old shitass.
BTW, I think my daddy taught me that phrase, just to set me up!
Stay tuned for the next installment, "7 Years Old, and Living in the Sticks"

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

New Link

I have just put a new link up.
Please check this guy, Jim Ferrell out. He is a clear thinking individual.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Sorry but I LIKED THIS! If you don't, tuff Shit!

Sermon from a church in Virginia recently. Gen 47: 13-27

Good morning, brothers and sisters; it's always a delight to see the pews
crowded on Sunday morning, and so eager to get into God's Word. Turn with
me in your Bibles, if you will, to the 47th chapter of Genesis; we'll begin
our reading at verse 13, and go through verse 27.

Brother Ray, would you stand and read that great passage for us?.... Thank
you for that fine reading, Brother Ray.. So we see that economic hard
times fell upon Egypt, and the people turned to the government of Pharaoh to
deal with this for them. And Pharaoh nationalized the grain harvest, and placed the grain in great storehouses that he had built. So the people brought their money to Pharaoh, like a great tax increase, and gave it all to him willingly in return for grain. And this went on until their money ran out, and they were hungry again.

So when they went to Pharaoh after that, they brought their livestock - their cattle, their horses, their sheep, and their donkey - to barter for grain, and verse 17 says that only took them through the end of that year.

But the famine wasn't over, was it?

So the next year, the people came before Pharaoh and admitted they had
nothing left, except their land and their own lives. "There is nothing left
in the sight of my lord but our bodies and our land. Why should we die
before your eyes, both we and our land? Buy us and our land for food, and
we with our land will be servants to Pharaoh." So they surrendered their
homes, their land, and their real estate to Pharaoh's government, and
then sold themselves into slavery to him, in return for grain.

What can we learn from this, brothers and sisters?

That turning to the government instead of to God to be our provider in
hard times only leads to slavery? Yes. That the only reason government
wants to be our provider is to also become our master? Yes.

But look how that passage ends, brothers and sisters! Thus Israel
settled in the land of Egypt , in the land of Goshen . And they gained possessions in it, and were fruitful and multiplied greatly." God provided for
His people, just as He always has! They didn't end up giving all their possessions to the government, no, it says they gained possessions!

But I also tell you a great truth today, and an ominous one. We see the
same thing happening today - the government today wants to "share the
wealth" once again, to take it from us and redistribute it back to us. It wants to take control of healthcare, just as it has taken control of education, and ration it back to us, and when government rations it, then government decides who gets it, and how much, and what kind.

And if we go along with it, and do it willingly, then we will wind up no differently than the people of Egypt did four thousand years ago - as slaves to the government, and as slaves to our leaders.

What Mr. Obama's government is doing now is no different from what Pharaoh's government did then, and it will end the same.. And a lot of people like to call Mr. Obama a "Messiah," don't they? Is he a Messiah? A savior? Didn't the Egyptians say, after Pharaoh made them his slaves, "You have saved our lives; may it please my lord, we will be servants to Pharaoh"?

Well, I tell you this - I know the Messiah; the Messiah is a friend of mine; and Mr. Obama is no Messiah! No, brothers and sisters, if Mr. Obama is a character from the Bible, then he is Pharaoh..

Bow with me in prayer, if you will.

Lord, You alone are worthy to be served, and we rely on You, and You alone. We confess that the government is not our deliverer, and never rightly will be. We read in the eighth chapter of 1 Samuel, when Samuel warned the people of what a ruler would do, where it says "And in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves, but the LORD will not answer you in that day." And Lord, we acknowledge that day has come. We cry out to you because of the ruler that we have chosen for ourselves as a nation..Lord, we pray for this nation. We pray for revival, and we pray for deliverance from those who would be our masters.

Give us hearts to seek You and hands to serve You, and protect Your people from the atrocities of Pharaoh's government.

In God we Trust

Southern Living, Part 1

My good friend, the Grouch, has started a series of blogs on Midway, and his adventures therein. I enjoy reading them and as I was cutting the yard a while ago, or whilago, as we say in the south, got to thinking about writing a blog on BEING A SOUTHERNER.
So, here we go.
I am a southerner by heritage and birth and choice, in that order. I was born in the south, my folks were born in the south, and their folks were all born in the south.
Being a white southerner is also akin to being a Redneck! I am one of them too! I like it!
Now, for my first, Life as a Southerner Blog, I'm gonna tell yall about cuttin grass.
This is something that I personally enjoy. I have a Troy built, Bronco, riding mower. It has 18.5 horsepower and is a wimpy thang by true Redneck lawn mowing devices. But it does exactly what I want it to do. Today, I cranked the mower, as it was warming up, went into the ham shack and got me a big, cold brew, aired up the right front tire,(gotta fix that someday) and finally got straddled of it.
I spent about an hour and a half, cutting the front yard and drinking my beer. Every time a car passed, I waved at the occupants and they waved back. Did I know any of them? No! Did I really want to know them? Probably not! (except for one sweet looking young thing, neber mind) Nevertheless, they were coming down the road, lookin at me sweatin on he mower, so I WAVED!
But waving, drinking beer and enjoying cutting grass is a southern thing. I have NEVER seen a yankee cutting grass while drinking a beer and I promise you AINT NEVER BEEN YANKEE WAVED AT, while he was cuttin grass. They all seem to hate it more than a finger wave from the grouch!
Cuttin grass gives me time to reflect, plan, plot as well as time to compose a blog while I am trying to cut all the fescue stalks to an even height!
Anyhow, I got thru cuttin the grass and am now enjoying another cold one while writing this blog.
I enjoyed the yard work! Will enjoy some more fore the weekend is over.
Am I crazy? Probably! Do I care? HELL NAW!
Stay tuned for the next installment, "Gitting Yo Ass BEAT!"

A Non-Political, Non-Healthcare Blog

Here's one for ya.
I just came in from my run to Big Tim's for a beer restock.
A 24 ounce beer in a can cost's 99 cents. A 16 ounce bottle of water, in plastic, costs $1.29.
Now, I aint a rocket scientist, but I do know that more than 16 oz. of water is involved in making 24 oz. of beer.
Who'd have ever thought that we'ed be BUYING water by the bottle and secondly, a plastic bottle is cheap and somewhat recyclable whereas a can is EASILY recyclable.
Aluminum seemingly has NO health adverse type problems but plastic has some chemical in it that leeches out into the contents which DOES have some health adversities.
Think about it!

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Obamanopoly Anyone?

When does a game become serious? How about NOW?

Monday, July 6, 2009

A Short Ramble

I had to go back to work today after a GLORIOUS 10 day hiatus. It weren't too bad. Had 4 employees who extended their vacations by an extra day. Didn't hurt operations any. We made it thru the day just fine.
One of my friends, who is a Guard Captain told me today that he is retiring the last of the month. I asked him his age and he is a mere month older than me. It got me to thinking. I will be 62 in a couple of weeks and therefore "COULD" retire if I chose. I don't believe I will for a while tho'. I've made it working for a long time. I have a job, paying decent wages, I don't work overly hard most of the time, they give me more vacation time than I ever choose to take and I really enjoy my work most of the time. Even in the times I don't really enjoy it, I revel in the knowledge that nobody could do what I do with more pnash or gusto that I do and I HOPE I would be missed. Besides, I've come to the point in life that I really don't care if I have to hurt your feelings. If I say I can't get it done, be confident that all the whining you do is only going to delay actually getting it done by that much more time!
That all being said, if I did retire, I would still have to find something to provide health insurance for me so, I think I will let well enough alone.
Besides, 10 days, except one, convinced me that not having a good reason to get up, would be pretty damn boring. I really need motivation, like eating, being able to pay my bills, having at least some loose change in my pockets.
Milan Arsenal, you are stuck wiff my nappy ass for a few more years to come, I hope.

Friday, July 3, 2009

By The Way

A cousin-in-law of mine, Gene Greenless is a ham, anesthesiologist, and part time movie producer. Here's a link to the trailer of his latest. Looks good, can't wait to see it!

A Mississippi Blessing

Got this from my brother, who remains a Mississippian. Hope ya enjoy it as much as I.

Note: If you are not a resident of Mississippi or never have lived in the hot, humid South,
you may not understand the weight of this blessing!
Bless this house, oh Lord, we cry.
Please keep it cool in mid-July.
Bless the walls where termites dine,
While ants and roaches march in time.

Bless our yard where spiders pass
Fire ant castles in the grass.
Bless the garage, a home to please
Carpenter beetles, ticks and fleas.

Bless the love bugs, two by two,
The gnats and mosquitoes that feed on you.
Millions of creatures that fly or crawl,
In Mississippi, Lord, you've put them all !

But this is home, and here we'll stay,
So thank you Lord, for insect spray.


The birds have to use potholders to pull worms out of the ground.
The trees are whistling for the dogs.
The best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
Hot water now comes out of both taps.
You can make sun tea instantly.
You learn that a seat belt buckle makes a pretty good branding iron.
The temperature drops below 95 and you feel a little chilly.
You discover that in July it only takes 2 fingers to steer your car.
You discover that you can get sunburned through your car window.
You actually burn your hand opening the car door.
You break into a sweat the instant you step outside at 7:30 a.m.
Your biggest bicycle wreck fear is, 'What if I get knocked out
and end up lying on the pavement and cook to death?'
You realize that asphalt has a liquid state.
The potatoes cook underground, so all you have to do is pull one
out and add butter, salt and pepper.
Farmers are feeding their chickens crushed ice to keep them from
laying boiled eggs.
The cows are giving evaporated milk.
Ah, what a place to call home. .

God Bless.......The State of MISSISSIPPI......

We're in Trouble NOW!!!


This morning, from a cave somewhere in Pakistan , Taliban
Minister of Migration Mohammed Omar warned the United States that if
Military actions against Iraq continue, Taliban authorities intend to
Cut off America 's supply of Convenience Store Managers and possibly
Motel 6 Managers. And if this action does not yield sufficient results,
Cab Drivers will be next, followed by DELL and AOL Customer Service Reps.

Finally, if all else fails, they have threatened to send us no
More candidates for President of the United States !

It's gonna get ugly!

Thursday, July 2, 2009

A Couple of Pix of My Wife's Plantings

My wife has a green thumb, mine is brown. I get to do the grass cutting and ground tilling. However, I DO enjoy the sights and tastes of her toils.

New Carpet in the El Camino

Well, I started Monday and finished this afternoon, putting carpet in the '77 El Camino. While I had the seats out, I dropped in the radio. It is an ongoing money pit, but I love the old beast.