Things I Will Do When I Finally Become The World's Smartest Human Bean

Because it's apparent to me, and many others,  I will soon become the world's smartest person and I have compiled a short list of things that I plan to accomplish as soon as I am officially awarded with this status.  

1.  Cure cancer.  Very top of my list, because if nothing else, I will be a practical and benevolent smartest person.

2. Remove all erectile dysfunction ads from television.  Hold the applause, there's more.

3.  Convert all cars to run on zucchini.  Finally a way to get rid of the abundance of this crap growing in everyone's garden.

4.  Make sure that everyone will get a Christmas present and a birthday card just because they should.

5. Find an additive for Twizzlers that cure the common cold.  What could be better than eating a Twizzler and instantly stopping the flow of snot and that icky feeling that you hate?   I know.  Nothing would be better than that... unless it's number 6.

6.  Renaming the penis to "Miller Lite".   Wouldn't that be awesome?  Yes.

7.  Put a button on everyone's TV remote that would make Oprah fat or skinny, just so we can move on past this thing once and for all.

8.  I would impose the death penalty for anyone owning a juke box with Sweet Home Alabama on it.  My only really negative change in this list... and it's just not THAT negative, now is it?  I just got really tired of that song back in about '78.

9. I would design a way to make everything you burp taste like bacon.  This might be unpopular with vegetarians, but most of 'em don't like me anyway.  The rest of us would love it.

10.  Sonic Drive In.  Beer.  Everytime I eat their onion rings, I want a beer.  I will make sure that it becomes law that Sonic sell beer.  Don't bring up the whole driving and drinking thing because...

11.  I will invent a pill that will immediately render you sober if you have to drive somewhere after a bender.

12.  Through careful research of the problem, I will make Eddie Murphy funny once again, because my Lord... someone needs to.

13.  By rounding off the remainder partial cents on interest paid for your interest bearing checking accounts and claiming them for my own, I will fix the economy once and for all and I will pay off the Chinese the following week.  I watched Office Space.  I already know it works.

14.  I will invent a device to read what your dog is thinking and wishes to say to you.  You may hate your dog later in the day.  It will exclude thoughts they have while licking their junk non-stop for an hour 'cause we already know what that's all about.

15.  Envelope glue will be available in Pizza, Circus Peanuts, and Beer flavorings.  We all want it. 

My second day of being the world's smartest person will have many other cool things become not just dreams for you.  It's true.  Please vote for me when the ballots are passed around.  You'll be glad you did.







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I Don't Have A Vagina, But....

  It's true.  I do not have a vagina.  Now I've been a big fan of 'em for... well most of my life, and that doesn't make me an expert on 'em or nothing, but it does allow me at least some insight about the things.  And as you may have already guessed, I have some insight today that I feel the need to share with you about something... vagina related.

  Douches.

  That's a great word ain't it?  It can be a noun or a verb or an adjective.  It can be used as a slur or an action or even in it's truest sense... what it is.

  So you're probably wondering how the hell I got my squash filling centered on douches, aren't you?   Okay, that little Amazon.com link in my sidebar, it's linked in to Amazon to show health and beauty stuff to the folks that read Sawdust and Cowpies and hopefully there's something there worthy of a click and a purchase by y'all once in awhile.   I started to make a post this morning and glanced at it and one of the items it was offering to my readership was a Summers Eve Douche.   I've used the word douche for years, it's kinda fun.  I take it out of context, toss it in a conversation mostly for reaction or a laugh... and being that vaginas are in my all time fav list of things, and that the word "douche" is right up there as well, I clicked on the link.   It's the little boy in me that causes that to happen.  I can't help it.  It's the same little boy that gazed in wonderment at the lingerie section of the JC Penney catalog when I was 7. 

  All of this is unpostworthy actually, until I perused a bit deeper in the vast collection of douching products in the ginormous Amazon machine.  

  This is what stopped me dead in my tracks.  Click this. 

You read that correctly.  A douche named "Sweet Romance".  

Nothing I could write past this point will bring the giggles on any louder or stronger than that.  

Sweet Romance....

Alright, it's time for recess. 

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Remember Me?

  Hey, I'm here again.

  My brother passed away, that was the reason for my absence.  I held his hand as he went, and wouldn't have chosen to be anywhere else on earth at that moment.  And that's kinda the way that went... there's lots more story, but if you don't mind... I'll just keep this one to myself.  Alrighty?  Alright.   Sal and I want to thank you all for the love, prayers and cards that were sent.  It meant a lot to us.  A whole lot.

So anyhow my cousin Carla and I are standing in the back of the funeral home prior to the service and I said to her.  "I am being cremated.  I've made my decision.  I wanna be deep roasted, poured in a box, and shoved in the ground or shook out on the ground or pitched into the wind.  I don't really care... but I ain't gonna be a corpse in a box."

 She thought that was a pretty good plan and said "I don't imagine I'll have much say in it.. and they'll probably embalm me and put me in a coffin, so... I made this really incredible mermaid costume one year.  It's kinda famous.  I want to  be buried in that with my tail flipped over the edge of the coffin during visitation."

I stood there looking at her.

She looked at me.

I said... "That is so freakin' awesome it defies all meaning of the word "awesome"."

She said... "I think so too."









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Just So Y'all Know...

  I'll be back folks.  Some personal unhappiness taking place that I'm concentrating on for a time.  Please keep my family in your thoughts and prayers.

I've said it before, never miss a chance to tell those that are important to you, what they mean to you.

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2009 Sawdust And Cowpies. The Top 5 Posts From The Past year.

Actually I couldn't get it down to 5 so it's 6.  I can't help myself.   It's been a year hasn't it?   Lots of  stuff happened, some good, some bad some hilarious.   I'm not spending a lot of time spewing with the introduction, 'cause I really would like you to peruse some of my best work from last year.


Slot #6 is filled with this post mostly for one picture where woobs were discovered. 

#5 is this jewel where I have my way with that slut Heidi. 

#4 I told y'all about things you'll hear when working cattle with a bunch of hard core old farts. 

#3  A road trip with the band Keota... playing from the back of a pickup truck.   
There's a shot of Sal in this post that is so totally bitchin... I wish there were 2 of her for me to fall in love with. :-)


#2  I let y'all into my high school class of 1976 with no shame what so ever.

#1 And finally, what may be my best work... ever.  I poured my heart and soul into this one, #300 post, registering the most comments I've ever had on a post.  My entire life from birth til now in one post. 


Thanks to all my friends in the blog world and in person here with me that bother to read my blog every single time I throw some of my punkin' filling out here on the internets for all to see.   2010 here I come.  No pants this time!

Love you all.

Jace

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The Best Pic I Ever Snapped...

So I was in the woods Sunday cutting up a load of firewood.  I'd found an old reject saw log that had laid there for who knows how long and was hackin' away at it, getting down towards the butt end of it where it was pretty well ate up with bugs and other critters.  I'd sat the saw down and decided that was enough of that log and glanced at the last cut... and saw a little face.  A mouse was zipping back and forth between two holes trying to figure out just what the hell had taken place at the ol' hacienda.  Being taught well by Sally to always have a camera in your pocket, I pulled it out... then decided he seemed pretty patient... so I posed my axe by the log for the whole artsy fartsy thing. (Yes, genius... I know) and started snapping pictures.  What I failed to do was actually take the time to put my glasses on so that I could see the camera (or as Emma and Shelby call it, the Cramera) and see that I was out of focus. 

Eh well it's still cute as all get out...

Click for the biggness.

 

He finally bailed out and made a trip around a tree...

 

 

... and then ran back to the hole in the log and disappeared.  

 

 

 

 

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Christmas Cows.., Tractor Of Doom.

Christmas day started out nice enough, waking up late from playing at Midnight Mass, opening presents... getting a new laptop that I wasn't expecting at all, getting dressed up nice and warm to head to the farm and do chores, and then it just went wrong.  Wrong in a way that only "I" can seem to meander through with all the grace and agility of a bullfrog in a hot skillet with one hind leg missin'. 

THAT kinda wrong.

I got to the farm, my Aunt and Uncle gone for a few days, and got on the Tractor Of Doom that had just come out of the shop.  I mean this was the first time I'd driven it since it had been in the care of the worst mechanic in the area... I'm sure of it.  It had had a shifting rail busted in the transmission, the hind end of it was all tore apart, shifting rail replaced but somewhere along the way Unhandy Bob had skipped the classes where they teach you how to actually adjust the transmission so that it transed instead of missioned. 

Now it was a pretty chilly day yesterday, with the wind blowing a pretty steady 20 mph, raw gale the windchill temps were somewhat below zero.  I ethered the crap out of the old girl and it fired up.  This is when I discovered the unadjusted transmission situation.  Reverse was not, at first.  Then figuring out which forward gears were not gonna go, I ended up with 2 forward gears and one reverse... unless you shifted wrong and ended up with it in a forward AND reverse gear at the same time, then no one wins.    I pulled it out of the shed, left it running to warm up and hoofed it to the barn to feed some calves.

10:00 AM... I feed the calves.  They love me, I stepped in a couple of the presents that they'd made for me.  I head back to the tractor.

10:05 AM... I get on the tractor and proceed to abuse the gear shift and finally get it in a forward gear.  I head to the hay pile.

10:15 AM... Bale of hay on the front end of the tractor I head back to the calf lot, pull up to a bale feeder to drop it in... and can't get it in reverse.  I abuse the gear shift violently.  It reverses out of terror.

10:20 AM... I head to the pasture where the herd is to feed hay to them.  I pull into a bale of hay at that hay pile... and can't get it in reverse.  I abuse the gear shifter much like a psychopath, strung out on PCP and Juju Fruits would kill snakes and aardvarks armed with nothing more than his bare hands.  I win.  It backs up and surrenders for the morning.

10:25 AM... Pulling through the gate I notice a cow upside down.  This is never a good position to find your common ordinary household cow in.  This is the pose they acquire just before they're getting on the bus to go home to the Lord.  I unroll the bale of hay.

10:35 AM... I examine the upside down cow and it's the same cow that was upside down 2 days prior.  She's ancient, and is pretty much past the point of getting her back on her feet this time.  I decide to put her down, but I'll have to get a gun from my truck parked at the shed.

10:40 AM... Back on the tractor I head to the gate, it's started snowing very hard... the tractor does a little hiccup that for anyone that has ran diesel tractors much at all, makes your blood run cold.  I'm out of fuel.  See the fuel gauge doesn't work, much similar to a lot of other things on the tractor of doom.  I drop it into high gear (which for whatever reason, works) and make a break for the house.  See... if your diesel engine runs out of fuel, it's not like a gas engine that you just fill up, turn the key, and happiness ensues.  There is no happiness in a diesel tractor out of fuel.

10:41 AM...  I get to the bottom of the hill in the middle of the road when all forward movement ceases.  I start walking.  In freezing temps.  In the snow.  I couldn't buy happiness with a pocketful of unicorns and a cure for cancer.

10:55 AM... I get to the shed and get in my truck to warm up.  I grab an empty 5 gallon gas can and head over to our diesel storage tank.  The power cord that has been there since Moses walked the earth... is not.  I find a cord that looks like it's been teethed on by puppies, plug it in and start filling the can.  It's full.  The nozzle does not shut off.   I'm serious.  It keeps pumping.  The wind is whipping diesel everywhere.  I yank the cord outta the pump, put the lid on the can and put it in the back of my truck.

11:10 AM... Pouring the fuel in the tractor, I hope beyond hope that thru some miracle that it will just start.  No, it does not.   The wind picks up.  I take the heat houser off on the fuel pump/injector side of the tractor to see what wrenches I'm gonna need and head back to the shed for what is surely the most cartoonish set of tools in existence.  Back to the shed.

11:25 AM... I call home and tell Sal that I may need Jakes help.  She's real serious on the phone 'cause she knows that if I call for help, it just ain't pretty. 

11:35 AM... I'm back and start loosening injector lines to bleed them out, removing knuckle meat, freezing half to death.  Rolling the motor over and finally I get fuel squirting outta all the injector lines I start  tightening 'em back up.  I give it a big dose of ether and turn the key, it fires up.   I want to cry I'm so happy.  Jake shows up and wants to know if I need a hug.

12:15 PM... Back to feeding hay.  I send Jake over to put the cow down. 

12:45 PM... Backing the tractor back into the shed... I'm done.  Quite literally.  I'm really done.

1:15 PM... I'm pulling into my driveway, Christmas dinner is almost ready to hit the table, all is well. 

I really wanted to throw out my Mary Lou Retton victory pose.  I really did.


Pics  from the throne of the the Tractor Of Doom, a seat reserved for fools and psychopathic aardvark murderers....  unrolling hay.

 

 

 

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