Saturday, February 28, 2009

Irreverent Humor At The Expense Of Others.... Well One Other.

1. Lacking or exhibiting a lack of reverence; disrespectful.
2. Critical of what is generally accepted or respected; satirical: irreverent humor.

Ah... there it is at the end of that definition, "satirical irreverent humor."

My bloggin' friend Gwen over at Everything I Like Causes Cancer posted a pic of herself on her current blog posting... and I think my comment was something like "that screams Photochopping." Gwen then dropped me a message saying something like "oh what the hell... just humiliate me, have your fun with my picture, make me wanna go Amish. Just do it do it do it."

Dear Gwen, your wish is my command.

"I don't know what that Amish gang sign means... but come here you hunk of man. Let me show you what a barn raisin' is all about!!"

"Pretty bird, pretty bird... Polly want a cracker? You're such a beautiful bird! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEONE SHOOT THIS FREAKY DANG CARTOON THING OFF MY FINGER NOW!!!!"

"Love the shades Roy"

And finally... just this.

Alrighty! Here comes Sunday!

Hey Gwen?



Friday, February 27, 2009

Just Announcements Friday!

I ain't even gonna try to be funny today 'cause I have very very important announcements.

Wait... this ain't right. Hang on.

A polar bear walks into a bar and says "Gimme a gin............................
.......................... ..................................................
............. and tonic. Bartender says "okay, but why the big pause?" The bear looks at his hands and says "I dunno, my dad had 'em too."

Baa da dum.

Okay, on wit da bidness.

El number oneth. I have been scooped up into the ever loving arms of a select group of individuals that blog about humor. Humor Bloggers drug my lazy carcass up before the panel of funny folks that decide if a blog is worthy to bear the tag of the organization. I could have told 'em the story about the giraffe giving birth to an ostrich that looked like Jimmy Durante... and how it tasted when I BBQ'd it... but I didn't have to play that trump card. They just said "You're funny, don't stop being funny or we'll kill you" so... here I am. Click on in on that silly penguin button over there, look up me up and... aw hell, here. Click this and scroll down to my blog and rate my blog up. If you think I'm the funniest thing since Grandpa put his false teeth in the collection plate, then say so. I'd appreciate the rating!

El number twoth. Our band Keota has been selected to play here in NE Missouri for the Smithsonian's traveling museum of Roots Music this spring. We're real honored to do this and we're all puffed up with pride. Click here if you wanna read a bit about it. Also the band has a brand spanky new facebook page with about 100 members so far, if you're a facebook player and would like to join up, just search on facebook for Keota Acoustic With Attitude or Click Here.

El number threeth. See that little doohickey of a button over yonder on the right side where it says "Follow this blog"? Click it and come on in... the waters just dandy. I'm giving all new followers a Michael Jackson makeover this week. Awesome eh?

I think that's it. I probably will think of some other stuff, but this oughta keep y'all busy for a couple minutes or so... and Thank You in advance. I love comments and you folks are a pretty dang entertaining bunch of honyocks.


Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Starbucks Doubleshot Energy Drink.... A Review.

In case you've missed this in the past, I'm not the guy that fell into the whole Starbucks spell. I'm the one that you see standing in the back of the store just watching everyone else and wishing that I had a regular ol' .79 cent cup of coffee.

Now bear in mind there ain't a Starbucks within probably 50 or 60 miles of me, so it's not a place that I could frequent even if I were inclined to do so. When I HAVE entered a Starbucks with the main purpose of actually buying a coffee type drink, I reduce the whole thing to a scenario. A scenario in which I have attained the mouth breather, pimple faced expression of a 17 year old boy watching his prom date come down the stairs and realizing that I have no idea just what the hell I'm gonna do with the rest of my evening after the first 10 minutes alone with her out in my mom's Oldsmobile Delta 88.


So when I spied this stuff at the grocery store I chucked a few cans of it in the cart in a couple of different flavors. I kinda like foo foo coffee drink stuff like this and figured it couldn't be easier for me. I don't hafta order up nothing, I get energized, I get a foo foo coffee drink... all will be very very good.

So I put 'em in the fridge and a couple days later Sal and I were taking off in the car and I grabbed us a couple. A mocha and a vanilla.

Friends. This stuff is poison.

It is the worst. No, it's the worstest.

It couldn't be worser.

If this drink were manna the Israelites would have kept on trekking until they came across a Wendy's. They would have died right there if this was all they had.

The putiditry of this stuff is topped only by the fungus that grows under a camel's tail in the rainy season.

I took a drink, kinda swooshed it around in my mouth a little... did a hard swallow and looked over at Sal as she swallowed and was trying to read the fine print on the can.

Sal "It says it has guano in it. Isn't that bat crap?"

Me "Yes."

Sal *rubbing her teeth with her finger*

Me "It has an interesting aftertaste of cigarettes. No. No... An ashtray rinsed around with coffee. Hmmmmm"

Sal "Stop the car, I want to pour this out right now. I want it out of the car."

I pull over and Sal flings open her door and starts pouring it out.

Sal "It's orange. It's like orange diarrhea."

Me "More like orangutan orange."

Sal "Orangutan diarrhea."

Me "Quite."

Here, I poured some out on a board that I didn't need anymore, so it didn't matter if I ruined it.

Wait... there really isn't the contrast for you to see the actual color. Here's another pic. This time I put a handy wadded up piece of toilet paper on the board. I think you can really see the true color of it compared to the white TP.

Ending my review. I would rather drink battery acid filtered through sludge from the bottom of Lake Erie, and then strained through a dirty pair Roseanne Barr's pantyhose and finally garnished with a slice of fresh lemon... than to drink this crap again.

This food review thing is pretty easy so far.


Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I Have A Confession

Here' a shot from our Friday night gig, the red arrow is pointing at Louis (say Louie) My confession involves Louis... and Louis' hat. Louis reads my blog, so...

It's weighed heavy on me Louis, a burden that I've carried for about 4 or 5 months. But I'm lifting that burden right now.

Louis? I molested your hat.

Actually everyone at the table molested your hat. It just got out of control with the alcohol and the festivities and the music and... we're all ashamed. But you're partly to blame you know. You left it laying there on the table while you danced. An open invitation to a bunch of inebriated half wits.

And so it went... passed around like a bottle of Mad Dog as each of us fondled and posed with it while you had a good time.

And then Louis, as the leader of the this gang molestation... I took liberties with your hat that no man should have... I wore it sideways. Yes.

And finally Louis, I "rode the pony".

I apologize. I'm sure we all do. But I do want to say... I'll never forget that hat.


Sunday, February 22, 2009

Can't We All Just Get Along?


That was a whirlwind of a weekend, Sal and I are both still trying to catch our breath after that. If I catch mine, I'm pretty certain it's gonna stink. Anyhow, just a couple of pics and observations.

The first is a photograph opportunity of cataclysmic immenseness. That's probably an exageration, but it's good for a laugh. We have 2 driveways, one at our house and one that goes up to the shop. On Friday I had a UPS truck in one and one of 2 Fed Ex drivers that deliver here... at the same time. If the timing would have been a bit better about 30 minutes later Pugsly, our other Fed Ex driver delivered another package.

I made 'em pose for a real happy picture and for just a moment in time... world peace reigned.

Immediately after this picture they beat the piss outta one another and the Fed Ex truck was set on fire and a SWAT team unloaded out of a chopper and blew up my BBQ grill. I don't know what that was about... but you need to not ask questions at times like that.

Regular readers know that I love Chinese Fortune Cookie fortunes and pretty much run my life from what I pull out of em. That explains a lot. This one I got last week when I ate at the local Kat Killery that I like to call Dung Pow's Chinese Hideaway. I'm thinking on this one. What do y'all think?


Friday, February 20, 2009

The Hat. Redeaux Redeaux.

Sorry for not getting to all my friends blogs the past week as often as I'd like... I got, uh... busy. I'll do better next week. I promise. (for the most part)

Okay, my daughter sent me this picture that she'd nailed down from some quadrant of the internets. I'm amazed, astounded and nearly struck speechless. Know who else wore that hat?

See? Amazing eh?

And finally, a quick video of a wee little kitty spreading his wings for the very first time. Such grace.

I can't quit pokin' the play button.

Have a great weekend friends!


Thursday, February 19, 2009

Spank Me One Time For Elvis.

Today, I don't even have to hardly work my brain for a blog post 'cause my friend Willie has done it all for me. I've got a fairly good sized online woodworking forum and Willie has been a long time member there and we've been on another forum together before that for quite awhile. This is a post from that forum made by him. Willie is a carpenter, cabinet builder, contractor, all around good guy, AND as it turns out..... a paddle maker.

I laughed til I cried.

Someone has to make these things, Willie has found a niche market and has jumped into it paddle in hand and tongue in cheek. These are ALL his words and pictures, not mine.


I was recently approached by a woman asking if I could make some paddles for her erotic web store. Being a little slow at work and always looking for new customers I said sure. Apparently some people like to paddle each others asses and if done right, this turns them on big time.

After some conversation she asked me what I thought an erotic wood would be. After a minute of thought, I decided Mahogany. Perfect color, grain, and nice and hard for the task at hand. It even speaks of romance to me.

She showed me some photos and I didn't like them. We decided I would design these myself and make a prototype for her approval. We discussed price and if she ordered 50 I could make them for $23 a piece. She said she can sell them for $49-69.

Off I go, creative juices flowing and knowing what the end use would be.
I slept on it. The shape of course would be important as would the handle.

First draft. Sitting on a cherry slab with a piece of oak next to it.

Here's a more defined form taking shape, again sitting on an oak shaker door. Most of these paddles made of wood for this purpose are of oak. They tout it as the right wood. I disagree, not romantic enough, when I delved into my carpenters soul I came up with mahogany.

Like all woodworking projects grain is important or should be. Notice how it runs parallel with the piece. Constructed this way there will be less flex and it will be more unforgiving, which is, after all the point, isn't it?
I decided to use leather on one side as an option ( at an additional cost of course). I went back and forth between black leather, stitched leather, rawhide etc.. I came up with this burgundy leather, as I feel its a perfect compliment to the mahogany once finished with oil, oh yes, it must have an old school oil finish for the grain to pop just right.

While I was conjuring up things I decided maybe offer a two cheek version, hmmm,
I may be onto something here. It might help keep your lover balanced. Again always keep grain orientation in mind and an eye on the big picture.

Amazing how much thought can go into one little piece of wood isn't it.
I can be completely politically incorrect through woodworking. I think I just proved it.

My name is William and I am a paddle maker.


Thanks Willie! lol


Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Faster Faster Faster!

My son has spent his entire driving career going faster and dealing with the expensive consequences of it. The number of traffic stops... I can't begin to put a number on them. What boggles the mind is that they're all self inflicted, over and over and over and over.

He had a motorcycle when he was just a little guy, then we moved on to racing go karts... not the go karts that putt putt around a little track, but flat out ass hauling little rocket sleds. Then, then he turned 16. I did the Dadly thing and told him that if he got a speeding ticket I'd help him out on the first one, after that he was on his own.

He used up that coupon in the first 2 months.

I'm surprised it wasn't sooner.

He was carrying out groceries at a local store and combine that pay scale with his speed habit and getting tickets "fixed" (you can do that in Missouri) by getting a lawyer to deal with the P.A. and paying about double what the face value of the ticket was to have it reduced to non-moving violations... that was ruining him financially. Heh...

And he reveled in pushing things to the limit. At one point he had a Ford Ranger truck and for whatever reason he refused to hang the license tag on the front bumper. It's law here that you gotta have at least one tag on the front end of all trucks. I repeatedly told him he really outta get it out there instead of laying in the floor. Finally one day I look out in the driveway and he's actually screwing the thing to the bumper. He comes in and I ask him what finally caused him to take the time to do that. He said "I figure I've run out of chances... I got stopped 14 times for no tags"

I stood there. "Did you say 14 times?" He said "Heh heh... yeah. 14" and walked away grinning. He's a charmer, not a single written violation out of all those stops.

Actually the stories are endless, but I've got a couple of pics. One he took, one his girlfriend snapped. Both are priceless. His sense of humor is astounding.

The first... taken from the drivers seat in his rear view mirror. That's about a $322 picture there.

Makes me laugh everytime I look at it.

This one was just a few days ago down in Houston. Just take in the whole picture... lol

That's my boy.


Tuesday, February 17, 2009


Seems like I kinda sorta hit a lull with my blogularity, a combination of being busy with "things" in general and not feeling particularly funny in a bloggy way. I can sense the tide making a shift though and I oughta be back to my old self in no time at all, or I'll 'asplode trying.

I've been in the shop trying to wrap up Sal's Christmas present...... 2008, I know, I know. What an ass you say, but you say it so cute it's just encouraging to me. I'm also whipping up a stage prop for the local theater production of Grease, kinda THE stage prop from what I understand. Grease Lightning, the car. It's kinda kicking my butt, but hey.. I've still got a week to work the smoke and mirrors.

I'm also in the band for the production, playing guitar. In case you don't know it, Broadway musical music pretty much sucks from a musician's viewpoint. 3 key changes in one song without repeating any keys? Either Satan or Mac Davis had a hand in this, I swear.

Our band is throwing a "Fat Friday" party this friday at the theater... oughta be a total blast and we're all looking forward to it.

Y'all are invited. Bring your drinkin' lips and party pants.

That's 'bout that. I'll be back to my old self hopefully with the next post.



Saturday, February 14, 2009

Once Upon A Valentines Day

I really can't pull anything outta my hat to top this one, so here's the re-telling of Valentines Day and Mexican food. Hope your sweetie treats you as special today as I treated Sal on this particular V day.


Every husband and wife have stories to tell, it's inevitable, but there's always one or two that are standouts. This one goes down as one of the most memorable for Sal and I.

While the kids were still at home, Sally and I used to take off for special occasions for a night or two, sometimes at a bed and breakfast in some little town that we'd want to check out and on this particular Valentines Day, that was our venue.

We'd went to Hannibal, MO for the weekend, a cool little town on the Mississippi river about an hour or so from our place. We got a room at a Bed and Breakfast in one of the old restored and renovated mansions up on the hills above the town and the river. We hit the antique stores and did some shopping, had lunch at a favorite restaurant there of ours, Lulu Belle's, a restaurant that was at one time a turn of the century brothel. Excellent food and "interesting" decor. We shopped some more, went out to the river and watched it go by for awhile and decided to go eat dinner at a mexican restaurant that we'd seen earlier in the day.

Here is a point in the story that I'd like to just stop and make a recommendation to one and all... based on my experience. When you're out for a romantic getaway weekend with your sweetie, last choice for your evening meal should be any kind of mexican food.


We grabbed a bottle of wine on our way back to the B and B, went to our room, complete with a spa, set up the ambiance for the evening with some candles around the room... basically the whole nine yards.

Now this being a very very old house, the walls were thin, and particularly the walls in our bathroom, which was more of an afterthought than an actual bathroom. I honestly think it was originally a closet and they just threw in the appropriate porcelain and called her good.

Throw into this little fracas the fact that the guests in the next room were separated only by this thin wall, and the door that went between their room and ours was blocked by a huge armoire thing, that was shoved up against it unmovable.

Being brand new newlyweds of less than a year, "things" weren't as open as say a couple that had been together a number of years, in the area of (I'm trying to be polite here) normal body sounds. The kind of normal body sounds that happen to a man after a big mexican dinner. Oh yes.... those sounds.

Here is where I learn that we ate the wrong dinner, Cousin. Wrong wrong wrong, oh so very wrong. The wrongest. I excused myself to the paper wall bathroom to gain some relief and trying my damnedest to be discreet and not reduce an evening of romance to what a group of 5th grade boys would find to be the highest form of entertainment and humor.

See... now, still here I thought that I was being quiet. No, I was not. Sally can do the best interpretation of what took place behind that bathroom door, she's had years of practicing it when telling this story. It started out high pitched, much like a baby crying down a long hallway, then switching off to the quacking of a nervous duck, with interjections of a backfiring Model A, interspersed with polite breaks in the cacophony to pause and regroup, only to start all over again.

My beautiful bride of less than a year, just on the other side of this door, had her face buried in a pillow, almost to the point of self suffocation, trying to muffle her laughter... knowing full well what I was dealing with.

Then my friends, I had a realization. A harsh and cruel one to a man in my dire predicament... I heard the couple in the next room bust out in what can only be described as gut wrenching laughter.

I froze in mid squeak. And then, just to cinch the deal, I heard Sally come completely unhinged. I sat there in the darkness trying to think of some way to explain this whole thing off, but there was no way to explain it... other than what had actually just happened. I slowly opened the door, Sally was crying with laughter. The people in the next room were completely undone. I was had.

We laughed about it and I got over my embarrassment but told Sally that when we left the next morning that I wanted to bail outta there at the crack of dawn just so we didn't run into the people in the next room.

You can guess what happened next... as I was carrying our luggage out to the car, I rapidly greeted our neighbors good morning as I met them in the common living room of the B and B and heard them snicker as they walked on past.

We've had lots of wonderful weekends together since then, but none that go down the way that one did.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Let's Get It On... Oh Baby Baby

Your pre-Valentines day, cheaply made, cheesy, cliched made for TV movie set to Marvin Gaye's "Let's Get It On".

Scenario: Husband pulls in the driveway towing a brand new, blue metal flaked bass boat... unannounced. A purchase, that has not been discussed, let alone approved by the finance committee, namely Sweet Thang.

Sweet Thang: *hands on hips*

Guilty One: *hands in pockets, kicking at imaginary rocks in the driveway.

Marvin Gaye: I've been really tryin', baby


Marvin: Tryin' to hold back this feelin' for so long

GO: I got this for us honey. *smiling sweetly, trying to look like a little boy, or as much like a little boy that an overweight, 35 year old man with 4 days of stubble and wearing the same Hooters T shirt that he's been wearing for the past 9 years on a weekly basis... can look*

Marvin: And if you feel like I feel, baby

ST: Seriously dude. What the hell?

GO: *Straining hard to attain the "look" that he practiced this morning in the bathroom mirror.*

Marvin: Then come on, oh, come on

ST: *waiting for a REAL answer*

GO: *raising his eyes slowly from the driveway to Sweet Thang's eyes and taking a small step towards her.*

Marvin: Whoo, let's get it on. Ah, babe, let's get it on

ST: *rolling her eyes in total disgust*

GO: *tilting his head slightly and getting that "Spanky grin" on his face that she loves*

Marvin: Let's love, baby. Let's get it on, sugar. Let's get it on

ST: Oh for crying out loud. You're being a total ass here.

GO: *letting the grin slide from his face, only to be punctuated with....*

Marvin: Whoo-ooh-ooh

ST: Oh God!

GO: I got a great deal on it honey, nearly a steal. I couldn't pass it up and we were planning on getting one in 3 or 4 years anyhow.

Marvin: We're all sensitive people, with so much to give

ST: You KNOW we don't have the money or the budget for this, what the hell is wrong with the way your head works? I just don't get it.

GO: *turning up "the look".*

Marvin: Understand me, sugar since we got to be... let's live

ST: *having just a twinge of "the look" affect her.*

GO: *touching her arm with his hand*

Marvin: I love you

ST: *letting the creases in her forehead slacken a bit*

Marvin: *ALL Marvin...* There's nothin' wrong
With me lovin' you
Baby, no, no
And givin' yourself to me can never be wrong
If the love is true
Oh, babe, ooh, ooh

GO: Bill got fired at work for boinkin' the boss' old lady, I got his job today.

ST: *looking GO straight in the eyes checking for a trace of lies.*

Marvin: Don't you know
How sweet and wonderful life can be?
I'm askin' you, baby
To get it on with me
Ooh, ooh, ooh

ST: *starting to soften*

GO: It's another 5500 bucks in pay.

ST: For real? Are you bullshitting me like when you brought home the motorcycle and told me we won the lottery?

Marvin: I ain't gonna worry, I ain't gonna push, won't push you, baby

GO: *sliding his arm around ST's waist and pulling her in* I'm sorry 'bout that one baby. I'm such an ass sometimes. This is for real this time... I'm in like Flint with the old man.

Marvin: So come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, baby. Stop beatin' 'round the bush, hey

ST: *softening and uncrossing her arms*

Marvin: *loudly* Let's get it on, ooh, ooh
Let's get it on
You know what I'm talkin' 'bout
Come on, baby, hey, hey
Let your love come out
If you believe in love
Let's get it on, ooh, ooh
Let's get it on, baby
This minute, oh yeah
Let's get it on
Please, please, get it on
Hey, hey

ST: *gazing longingly in her lovers eyes* So... what'd you get for me?

GO: *thinking to himself.. Well, crap!"

Marvin: *fading into the background* Do you know I mean it?
I've been sanctified
Hey, hey
Girl, you give me good feelings, so good

Nothin' wrong with love
If you want to love me
Just let yourself go
Oh, baby
Let's get it on

I almost strained a brain muscle with that one.. holy carp.

Here. Here's you a little Valentines day Marvin of your very own. A free "Let's Get It On" MP3 download from Amazon.

Feel the love, clickety click.

Stay tuned for the REAL Valentines day post.


Thursday, February 12, 2009

Valentimes Is Comin'!

When I was little I had a buncha misconceptions about Valentines day. Firstly was the pronunciation of it, I hung with "Valentimes" until like the 5th grade I think. I was most likely way too busy with other stuff to learn that it was "Valentine". Another one that they tried to drill through our little puny, pre-adolescent skulls was that to be fair, EVERYONE got a Valentine card in their highly decorated shoe box that were placed over at the side of the classroom.

We went through this whole phase in early grade school where we had a snack time in the afternoon. It lasted for about 2 years and none of us could ever figure it out, but at snack time we could have Govt. raisins, Govt peanut butter, Govt milk or a snack of our bringing... but not candy or chips or anything decent.

I cannot begin to tell you how many Valentine boxes I filled with Raisins, and shoving a peanut butter sandwich thru the skinny little slot on top... THAT'S a challenge. I was always eager to see the expressions of gratitude on my little classmate's faces upon opening their Valentine PB and raisin surprise.

As the years went by, my awkwardness with displays of affection improved. Not every girl appreciates a good raisin surprise. And not everyone needs to get a Valentine from you.

But all of y'all do. :-)

And to prove I HAVE improved with my Valentine skills over the years, my personal Valentine to all of you. It's kinda mushy, go get a Kleenex.

Nothin' says lovin' like something from a baboon's ass.

I got a special Valentines Day post comin' up in a couple of days. Yeah, like this one wasn't special enough.



Wednesday, February 11, 2009

"J" Is For Jockstrap

My lil' buddy Sass peeled off her letter sweater and hit me in the face with it. It nearly blinded me what with all those cheerleader pins and crap stuck all over it. I poured some Wild Turkey in my eyeholes and recovered and praise God... I'm able to write (or is that writhe) this blog post.

So the plan here according to Sassalevitra, she hangs me with a letter from the human bean alphabet and I give you 10 things that I love that start with the letter "J"...................

I even sorta volunteered for this thing all guinea pig like, and now it's proven to be about as difficult as castrating a 1000 pound bull armed with nothing more than a safety pin and good insurance policy. But here we go.

Things I Love That Start With J.

By Cowguy McGilicutty (<--- my new pen name for this post. Cool huh?)

#1. Jerky. I love me some beef jerky and how. All except the part where you're digging the sinewy parts outta your teeth for the rest of your life. Other than that I love Jerky.

#2. Jesus. I love Jesus. I'm a Christian and ol' Jesus... he's alright.

#3. Jugs. I don't feel quite right throwing this in right after Jesus, but it's what came to mind next... and I love jugs. Big, small, in between. Real, fake, hell I don't care and any heterosexual man that says he does is a bald faced liar. Seriously. They're like the best invention ever. MOTORBOAT!

#4. Jake, my son. If you don't have fun with Jake... you just ain't trying. Here's a video of Jake in a pretty outrageous Mustang that he built, giving his mom (Sal) a ride. She did a real nice job with the camera and accused him of giving her an old lady ride when they got back. He did, but watch it, he turns it loose for her a couple of times. (watch it in HQ!)

#5. Junk. Every man on earth appreciates junk. The junkyards of my youth where you could ramble around, those were the bestest.

#6. Jewish folks. I love every single Jewish person I've ever met and think it's a damned fine religion. Bruce Lee loved them also because they gave us Jew-Jitsu.

#7. Jockstraps. Actually I hated these things, but I needed to mention them. The first time I spotted one of these things in Jr. High my first reaction was "We're gonna wear a slingshot on our junk?" And why the hell are they assless? Seriously. Could Jerry Jockenhimer (inventor of the jock strap) made these damned things anymore uncomfortable... and hillarious? Give me a break...

#8. JuJu Fruit. Awesome flavor and texture but guaranteed to make you jump outta your seat in the theater and run to the restroom to inspect the tooth that you just yanked the filling out of eating the Devil's candy.

#9. Jerry Jeff Walker. The original drinkin' til you're dumber than owl dung, country bar, party song man. Unsure? Ha. Here he is singing "Up Against The Wall Redneck Mother". The one song he wrote that actually made him some decent money? Mr. Bojangles. I hate that gagorific song.

#10. Jack. Yukon Jack. Front porch. Summer evening. Guitar in my lap. My sweetie sittin' in the swing over yonder. Yesss.

So there you be. How'd I do?

Drop me an email if you wanna round at this and I'll poke a letter at you.


Monday, February 9, 2009

Mrs. Butterworth... You're So Dirty.

Sal and I were out the other day and stopped at an old abandoned farm house of ours. It's kinda interesting what all was left there and what has been tossed in over the years. It's more of a picture tour than anything... put your finger on the scroll wheel and engage your eyeballs knowing that it smells a whole lot better where you're at than it did in the house.

I tried to show off and shove it down for Sal 'cause girls like that sorta stuff. Makes 'em wanna feel your muscles and stuff. I moved it like 14 feet off the foundation but it wouldn't go down.

Here's a creepy back door.

...and a creepy upstairs window. No spooks were looking out of it at the time of the picture takin' but I'm sure some were as soon as we walked away. That's the way they work it.

An odd collection of crap highlighted by a push type lawn mower. That's some nice crap eh?

Here's some more crap, an odd collection of milk bottles in a crate. All were empty. I was thirsty. The story of my life.

No it's not.

This apparently was someones good idea of an entertainment center or something. A record player on a tv. May be the very first karaoke machine. Probably invented by some prehistoric media consultant named Willie Peener or something. I'm just taking stabs at this one.

I wonder if this guy ever remembered parking his bike here... maybe he lost his newspaper route and just turned his back on biking forever and ever... The speedometer is stuck at 50 mph, maybe that's a tip to the story.

OH oh oh! More crap. Nifty eh?

An EXCELLENT find. I threw down some major toe tappin' tunes with this plaster of paris fiddle I found. A regular hoe down. YEEEE HAWWWW.

I'm pretty certain this is an original snapshot of the last supper. Yeah it said JC Penney Photo Studio down in the corner. I'm sure it's worth millions. There was a bat behind it. I screamed like a little girl.

I made one last attempt, this time blowing as hard as I could. I was having quite a bit of success with it this time, Sally was overcome with... overcomeness and broke my concentration. She knows good lovin'.

Boy howdy!

Mrs. Butterworth... you're so dirty.