Thursday, July 30, 2009

You Too Can Be A Winner!

I'm nearing a landmark here at Sawdust and Cowpies... see that there little thing over to the right where all those happy happy faces are and it says "People who will inherit my sense of humor when I die"? It's hovering pretty close to the 100 mark and there's plenty of lurkers to join the ranks and take that over the top.

Here's the deal. Get your name on that list and one of y'all between number 96 and 110 or 120 or whatever it hits, is gonna get a blog post all about them. I have no idea what about, I don't write nothing ahead and just kinda sit down and wing every single post. It might be fictional, it might be fact. If you've got an active blog, I promise I'll drag a few folks to you. If you don't have one, Lord have mercy on your soul. I'll have Sal draw a number out of a hat or something equally official. She'll probably wear something pretty while she does it. I'll be in a dirty t shirt and cutoffs... if that matters.

Just do it.

With that, I'm jumping track here completely. I ran across this little commercial for a little exercise machine... I have no real words to help you through this, that in and of itself should be sufficient warning.

Just watch the thing...

I told you so.

Oh wait... I found a cool old advertisement!


Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Wood Erotica

Boy oh boy, yesterday's post musta been a major piece of dungage... I can't remember the last time I got 1 comment on a post. Jerry, bless your pea picking heart, you're a dedicated reader and a pal.

Hopefully I can redeem myself.


I just finished up a job making a bunch of reproduction stairway parts for a local courthouse built in 1890, which is kind of a yawner in and of itself.

Stairway spindles and newel post caps. Oak. Big uns. So there they be.

Oh wait... I promised wood erotica didn't I?

I found a willing subject that agreed to pose. I don't personally know the guy, but I've tried to hide his identity, that whole "protect the innocent" thing. I present you with *drum roll*


Oh settle down...


Monday, July 27, 2009

Sing Your Guts Out, Girl.

I am gonna soak up your time with music videos today. Hooray for me!!

I was working yesterday in the shop, doing kinda mundane work where my mind wanders. I went out in the yard where my mind had wandered off too, put it back on it's leash and jabbed it back in my punkin... ah hem... anyway, I had a song super stuck in the vast expanse of my brain. That song? "Baby It's You." Now wait... not the Beatles bubble gummy version, not the Shirelles version from 61, but the wailing your lungs out version from "Smith".

Smith was a one hit band, and THIS was it. Gayle McCormick, a local girl from St. Louis could fling it out there. So here you go, Baby It's You being introduced by Leslie Uggums. Dig that headband, looks like beer tabs with a thing in front that seems to keep making the poor girl crosseyed.

And then, you know how I am with Youtube, I got started watching videos, but I'm selective. I'm calling this little montage trio of videos... "White Girls Singing Their Balls Off". Here's Janis tearing it up and wrong side out with a song you don't get to hear much. "To Love Somebody"... The Bee Gees shoulda went to prison for what they did to this. Seriously.

Lastly... I've got Melissa. I saw her do this exact performance on Letterman one night in about 92 or 93 or so. I'd not heard of her before then and I watched her wailing her heart out, loving the music that she was playing, that gravely voice that she put it all into. I thought, eh she's a little butch looking in those pants, but I could fall in love with her. Then like a week later she broke my heart and announced she was a lesbian and had no need for a man like me.

Eh well. That's the way it goes. Melissa Etheridge, "I'm The Only One".

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Hey! YOU! Quit Screwing Around With My Lightbubs!

I'm getting old enough and my eyes are getting tired enough... I appreciate a good lightbub where I'm working or reading. (before we go any further, it IS lightbub, not lightbulb... Say after me, "Lightbub". You're welcome.)And as with anything that's working perfectly fine, to the point that you don't even notice it working fine... someone decides to go screw it up. If the monkey is happy and being good, you don't run in his cage, beat him with a stick and expect to not get hit with some shit. And by shit I mean CFLs. The little compact fluorescent screw in bubs.

What kind of a freakin' joke are these meant to be anyhow? Everywhere I read there's a story 'bout how CFLs are gonna save the planet and make us all love one another, make our kids smarter and save a glacier somewhere where I ain't ever gonna go, and you probably ain't either.

All I know 'bout 'em is, they cost more money and they put out joke light. Not joke light like Tom and Jerry might have that would actually be funny, but joke light like you'd have expected Spiro Agnew to have. You flip the switch on one of these and you can literally watch the lumens fall out of the bulb and float softly down towards the floor where it does no one any good except maybe the guy laying your new carpet.

The point of all this, I went to the little cubby hole closet at the top of the basement stairs the other evening to get a 60 watt light bub for the lamp by my chair and this is what I found...

52. Watts.

What? 52....

I may not miss the extra lumens of light that those lost 8 watts of power consumption were gonna give me... but I might. And I want 'em.

I walked over to Sal just speechless and shaking the package in front of her with a frightening look on my face. All she could do was look sad and say "I'm sorry honey".

I did an exaggerated prancing stomp around in a circle in the living room holding the 52 watt bubs high in the air out of exasperation.

AND how the hell do you make a 52 watt bub anyhow? I'm guessing it was a screw up at the Great Value Light Bub Factory and they just decided to run with it and write "energy saver" on the side of the box and people would buy 'em 'cause they would think they're saving a dolphin in the process of it all.

I'm just sick of it. Sick of it I tell you. I WANT MY LIGHT BUBS BACK!



Tuesday, July 21, 2009

A Very Very Very Happy Thing...

Y'all remember this post?


Well I just came across a video that made me very very very happy. I can only hope that it makes you happy as well. Oh and it features the world's smartest dog too!

There now. All better.


Sunday, July 19, 2009

So This Is What I Do....

I've picked up several new readers here at S and C lately and because of that, I thought I'd just... whip this out.

*rim shot*

Eh well. Anyhow, along with being a cowguy with a bunch of surly cows that pack guns and knives, I build furniture. Mostly commission work where a customer has a desire burning in 'em for something other than run of the mill furniture store crap, or they have a piece in their mind that isn't available anywhere on the planet... except by custom work.

I design my own stuff, starting with rough sawn lumber from the local sawmill. I use the highest grade materials available and... "I'm" the one that builds it, beginning to end. I want to see you cry tears of joy the first time you see what I've built for you with my heart and hands.

So... it's show and tell time.

I just finished this one up last week and I'm real proud of it. You can read about it's construction here over on our woodworking forum. There's a whole buttload of pics of it there as well.

And just a nice little hodgepodge of other stuff that I've built...

And there you go. AND, I'm available to build your whatchamacallit, drop me an email and we'll talk it over. We'll deliver within 'bout 100 miles and arrange for shipping for further distances than that.


Thursday, July 16, 2009

A Thing I Heard

Jake and his best friend and I were sitting, talking, stretching truths and flat out eliminating others the other evening. Talk turned to bars and then went to one night in particular at Jake's hangout of choice.

Jake and C were tossing down a few and according to C, Jake was past the point of good sense. Sitting at the bar was Bubba (name changed to protect everyone involved in a 40 mile radius). Now Bubba is an imposing figure. Large doesn't cover it. He's well known for his fighting ability and actually... I've never heard of him actually losing a fight. Hell he worked for me for about a year, many years ago and back then I was impressed daily at his strength and agility for a man his size.

At any rate, Bubba is a guy that you wanna have for a friend. If you're needing to go on home and see Jesus... Bubba would be the guy to walk up to and spew vile things about his sweet dear momma and the sprouting of angel wings and your flight towards heaven would commence.

So according to C, Jake said, in his stupor and most likely just to see what C would say in response... "50 bucks and I'll go punch Bubba in the head".

Understand that Jake IS a bad ass. He is not a fighter however. Everyone loves the guy and wants to buy him drinks and stuff like that. So when he spouts off something like this... it's the liquor and humor talking.

C told him "I ain't got 50 bucks and if I did... I like you too much to throw it down"

And the line that is the thing I heard that ruined me for a long long long time... was this.

C: "Punch Bubba in the head and you'll be getting crayons for your birthday for the next 30 years."


I've got a faithful follower and reader of S&C that misses the "Hoo Boy" under my picture at the top where it says inna gadda da vida baby now. Voice your opinions on if you want it back back back, cousin.


Monday, July 13, 2009

On The Cover Of Rolling Stone...

Our band Keota is approaching the release of our first CD, just a few more legalities and we're gonna have that thing outta the closet and ready for sale. Lord have mercy, it's been a conlooperation of stumbling through this thing. For whatever reason the rest of the band seemed to think that I had magical powers and common sense and lay the responsibility of obtaining licenses, getting our ducks in a row and other such non-sense.

I question their sanity. Freakin A.

So with the south end of this northbound horse coming into sight, we now need a jacket picture, front and back. I've got some ideas, I'm sure the others do as well, but none of those ideas are gonna be close (hopefully) to my selection of "Wrong Album Covers".

Now I know this dead gnu has been beat to a bloody pulp in the past, but what the hell. I'm handsome AND lucky AND have clean underpants and with all of that going for me... here's my list.

Cowguy's Album Horror Show

Let's start this off with familiarity. Orleans "what the hell were they thinking" cover.

And heck, while we're on the "half naked man" theme... I'm rolling with it. This little subcategory are album covers guaranteed to kill sales to heterosexual men.

Prince. This weirds me out.

Herbie Mann. No, THIS weirds me out. Take a bath in Nair or Nads... for cryin' out loud. I'm a hairy guy but that dude is wearin' a poodle hide.

And being an equal opportunity bloggin' ijit that I am, I give you the Cher meets Conan the Barbarian cover. That head dress thing comes with it's own converter box now. 27 channels plus PBS.

The Louvin Brothers...

Yes, Satan is real. Here he is dressed in blue polyester and double knit with a party mask. "The devil you say..."

I don't EVEN know what the heck this is about... but I ain't gonna listen. I've got a better operation story anyhow.

She can tell this guy. It'll be like show and tell. Heh heh... "show and tell" Heh ...

Keep these guys away from that guy above. I see bad karma.

And we probably also wanna keep ol' Jay....

...away from this chick. There's gonna be trouble Lucy!

Hey! Marty Feldman is lookin' for you, Heino!

We actually do a song with a line in it "Things are bad in Houston, half my friends are dying", but still... an album cover like this is just gonna bring you down. Down to South Town... waaay on down.

Okay that was depressing. Here. HAPPY!!

And more Happy!! Sic 'em Tiny! Is this Jeff Bridges as a french fry addict or what?

I know, I know. Nailed it didn't I?

Sometimes I'm really "on".

"I got your backdoor good buddy... and your rubber duck." That one dude seems have a little Captain in him.

Tino, I think I know the album buyers you're catering to there pal. *wink wink*

I never understood ol TT. He wasn't funny. He sang like a microwaved crap sandwich, and well... he was homely as a possum in a pigpen. In a Santa hat, he's absolutely frightening.

Julie... run while you can. Bubba Carl has a plan, honey. Seriously, wtf is up with this album cover. Probably a big seller in Appalachia. Oh quit it, it's humor.

And the last one, I ain't gonna post. I'll link it in on a GIS if you wanna go look, probably not safe for work or anything else. It's Santana's Abraxas album. I oogled this thing in the record rack as an adolescent boy thinking "that is one bitchin' album cover" but knew I'd have to keep it under my mattress with "other things" if I took it home.

So, it's onward to Keota's album cover art. There might be some usable concepts here after all......


Saturday, July 11, 2009

The Haunted Hotel or Is That A Ghost In My Shorts?

So I've led you along like a donkey with a carrot on a stick, alluding to a ghost hunt the night of the 3rd of July (actually the wee morning hours of the 4th)back in this post here. Well, here tis with all the gory details so deserved from a night of hilarious stupidity and silly nonsense.

The Elms in Excelsior Springs Missouri is well known for the purported hauntings, appearances of spooks and assorted poltergeists, it's all over the interwebs... just Google it. Folks that get their razzles dazzled by this sort of stuff travel from all over creation with various Scooby Do equipment and cameras and meters and other junk in hopes of capturing a lazy spirit having a smoke, eating a sandwich or just hanging 'round behind you ready to say "boo" and make you crap yourself silly.

Maybe there IS unsettled spirits hanging out there. If you ask ANY of the employees there you get the response... *looking both ways over their shoulders* "Yeah, I've seen things". And then there'll be a story of seeing a hazy person walking down an empty hallway, words wrote on condensated glass by an unseen hand, a young boy that shows up regularly at night to visit the lap pool in the basement and on and on. Enough stories that you DO get a creepy feeling at times... even for big Bozos like me, that take very little in life seriously. I can attest, as can Ronnie, that the tiny little elevator (about a 6 person capacity)is an unnerving ride, with it's giant mirror on the back wall of it... in the middle of the night by yourself. Long walks down the endless "haunted hallways" at night will, I promise, make you glance over your shoulder once in awhile.

Go to the front desk of The Elms and just say "I want to see the picture", and the clerk will produce an enlarged photograph of a young lady sitting on the bed in one of the rooms with the TV in the background, which is turned off, with what can only be described as a pretty freaky face in the reflection of the glass. You WILL giggle nervously at it. You WILL have the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

So we got done playing in the bar there that night about midnite, a thunderstorm was raging outside giving it a creepy feel, and Daphne the gal that hired us play at the festival and the organizer of it as well said "Let's go on a ghost hunt!"

3/4ths looped and too wound from playing to sleep, we all fell in line giggling like a bunch of adolescents. Daphne, her sis Nikki and her bff (I can't remember her name... I'm sorry)with a total of about 8 or 9 of us, followed like good little lemmings up to the 3rd floor to gaze down the haunted hallway and be very very very quiet.

We failed at this last thing miserably.

As we stood looking down the hallway waiting for a ghost to wander down it towards us in his jammies I noticed a spot of light on the floor about halfway down. We all looked at it waiting for something big to happen. It didn't. So we walked towards it. Upon arriving I announced "Nope, no spooks. Someone just vomited on the rug and they cleaned it too good."

We went on down to the end and turned. Now I didn't wanna waste time with all this fun going on, by running my instruments back to our room... so we carried 'em like a bunch of fools. To the left was a door going out to the fire escape. It was pouring and lightning like crazy. Ronnie and I ventured to the doors and plastered our faces to 'em hoping to see some crazy dead lady in white dancing out on the fire escape.

There was none. But our friend Sue, who had had a touch more of imbibment than the rest of us, flung open the door and proceeded to step out on the fire escape. We reeled her back in. Someone mentioned alarms on the door going off at the front desk, Nikki said "too late now" and onward we went. Loudly.

Lots of shushhes and "be quiets" took place and I showed everyone how they should tiptoe to sneak up on 'em, exaggerated Elmer Fudd style.

Of course in the end this did nothing to quiet everyone down. Marybeth didn't go all the way to the floor, but it was close.

We went to the end of that hallway, Sue once again tried to make her exit via another fire escape door. We saved her life, but I'm sure set off yet another door alarm. Daphne, Nikki and her friend were now taking Blair Witch Project photographs of themselves and were coming completely undone. Nikki finally went to the floor, as they say. I dunno who "they" are, but...

More self photography was snapped with the same results...

Marybeth got creeped out by the door glass and wouldn't go up to it. I dunno why she's laughing so hard.

We ran into a service guy that walkie talkied to his boss and set up a ghost tour for us at 2 am. In the end only Nikki made that... the rest of us died from exhaustion before then.

Rounding another corner was an ice machine closet which I dived into. As the group rounded the corner I stepped out and grabbed a nameless person. Why nameless you say? Well as I grabbed the said nameless person, they did a Michael Jackson and grabbed their crotch, then said loudly "I JUST PEED!! I hate that!"

Further ruination followed as we headed back to me and Sal's room. I dunno how we ended up with the monster sized room, but it was a big sonofagun. Sal thinks it was the handicapped room... so that kinda fits. I took the opportunity to jam my carcass in the armmoire thing. In the end that didn't pan out as well as I'd hoped. People took too long to come in the room and I think the ones that came in were pointing at it and whispering "Jace is in there"... so when I fell out of it into the room like some drunken ghost hunter guy, there wasn't much scary stuff, just more laughing.

We all kinda fell into our room and were having a blast when "KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK". I opened the door and there was Bob or Steve or Stu or someone. Evidently some of our fellow guests were'nt having as much fun as us and called hotel security on us. So i stood there like a 10 year old getting a spankin' and told him everything was just dandy and that was that.

This is how you judge if the party is going well. When hotel security arrives... you've achieved party perfection in my book.

Everyone went to bed... cept Nikki. She said they didn't find any spooks and it was kinda corny.

No ghosts were seen, but like I said, it for sure IS kinda creepy 'round there. Oh and I've got one more picture for you. We did an "I'm scared shitless" pic, which is kinda entertaining... but little Sue over there on the right, with the Casper the friendly ghost expression... she stole this shot.

I think she missed the direction.

There's always next year it's rumored!


Friday, July 10, 2009

A Brief Pause For This Message...

10 years ago today she finally gave in...

Happy anniversary Sal, I love ya to smithereenies.



Thursday, July 9, 2009

4th Of July Weekend

Well, here it is. I've been busy and haven't had the spare time to get back to blogging... so almost a week later, it's the weekend report!

Our band was hired to play at the Missouri Wine and Food Festival at The Elms Resort in Excelsior Springs, Missouri for the 4th of July. We ended up turning it into a non-stop party weekend with more music, drinking, eating, and especially laughing... than you could shake a big ol sticky stick at.

First a bit about The Elms. Originally built in the late 1800's I believe, to take advantage of the draw to the area of people from around the world, to the healing mineral waters of Excelsior Springs. Dealing mostly with the affluent class, everything about the hotel was first rate. In the time being, it's burned to the ground twice, had it's fair share of money woes, but is now booming once again and is nothing but a pure victorian hotel class act. About 160 rooms on 5 floors.

Oh.... and it's haunted. More on that later.

Anyhow, we got there on Friday the 3rd, we all ate at a pretty dang good rib joint in an old railroad depot building, then proceeded to play in the bar at The Elms for 3 hours, calling it quits about midnite. On the 4th we played at the festival from noon til 2 pm in sweltering heat, recouped a bit then blew outta there about 5 in the afternoon and went down to south central Kansas City and played at a private party for about another 3 hours.

By the end of Saturday night, we were all played out. My voice was gone, I think I could hit about 3 notes, and everyones fingers hurt so damned bad we couldn't have even picked our noses, let alone our guitars, mandos and bass.

So with that, here's a few pics from the weekend..

The Elms Resort

Inside the lobby from the downstairs bar. (It's always important to locate ALL of the bars first thing. We excelled at this)

Playing in the bar on the night of the 3rd... naughty naughty handcuffs.

Oh here's a good one. A picture of the toilet in our room. I have no idea why this picture was taken, but what the Hell. It's just a fabulous shot... and the toilet functioned flawlessly. Hooray!

We got our soundcheck done about 11:30 am on the 4th, had an EXCELLENT sound engineer at the wine festival. Charlie, you rule! The girls had our merchandise table all spread out...

And then we lit into it. Our friend Paul Rodgers from Iowa joined us and played some kick ass banjo and dobro.

My daughter and son in law came over and listened, they live about 30 minutes away. That's a little girl in her tummy too! She looks just awesome.

A little guy in a green shirt, that had more boogie in him than a can full of worms, just 'bout stole the show. Not a bit bashful, he got right up there with us and proceeded to get his groove on.

A view across the back lawn of The Elms from the stage. It was just an awesome setup and after about 15 minutes into the gig the crowd rolled in. Very VERY nice turnout.

Then we rolled onto to the next This one was a backyard/neighborhood party at a couple of the bandmember's cousins place. We got treated royally, were fed a humongous meal of fried chicken with all the fixings and tubs and tubs of adult beverages and a table of wine. Holy mackerel!

And that was that.

Wait. You were wanting to hear 'bout ghosts in the haunted Elms? Gotta wait til the next post....