Hacked once again....

I have been more than a little ill. I took off five working days and emailed nobody. Yet, several of my friends received emails from me that contained a virus. Folks, I have been bedridden. I have had a bad case of strep-throat, and it has been compounded by a case of the flu. This whole electronic media thing is getting out of hand, but, ya cannot live with it, and you cannot live without it. I hope you all have a blessed holiday season.

PEACE!

CHRISTMAS at the Gas Station

The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through. Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up. "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger "I see you're busy, I'll just go." "Not without something hot in your belly." George said. He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew ... Made it myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh." Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front.. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and my car is broken." George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead. "You ain't going in this thing," George said as he turned away. "But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building, opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good." George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ." George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it. "Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought. George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the the block hadn't cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on. "Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the car anyway. As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Please help me." George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease. "Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance." The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio. He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area." George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time your gonna be right as rain." George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked. "None for me," said the officer.. "Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time. The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before. "That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer. "Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt." The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!" The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to the cop, "we got one too many in here now." He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pea shooter away." George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week." George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we can." He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things" George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out." The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer." "Shut up and drink your coffee " the cop said. George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer. "Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?" "GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man. Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran." George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other. "That guy work here?" the wounded cop continued. "Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job." The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?" Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything." "Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems." George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day." The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you." "And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need." George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours." The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier. "And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said. "Now git home to your family." The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good." "Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after." George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?" "I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?" "Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby." The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor. The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. "That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man." George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man. "Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again." The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned." George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room. "You see, George ... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas." George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord Jesus" This story is better than any greeting card.MERRY CHRISTMAS AND GOD BLESS!

More grandbabies......OH MY

The beautiful girl to the left is my grand-daughter Aurora, the boy in the center is Cheyenne, the young woman to his left is his mommy, Crystal, and his daddy, Nick, is in the back ground. The two youngsters and their brother Ashton were at the park last Autumn playing at the Monkey Tree. This was the beginning of their mommy and daddy starting to get along better during their divorce. Things are much calmer now.

PEACE!

Ashton owns his Paw Paw!

This kid owns me, as does his brother, and sister. He is more than a handful, but he is well worth the effort.

PEACE!

My Paw Paw

Very few people have had the influence on me in my life as did Virgil Lance. Even though he is responsible for my being able to play guitar like I do, more importantly, he is responsible for my sense of right and wrong. My grand father was not just a good man, he was a great man, and yes, he and my grandmother, Artie Mae Lance (the best woman to ever draw breath) are in Heaven right now preparing a place for me and my family. I miss them so much.

Peace!

Don't send thanks, send money.......

My three year old grandson, Ashton, has been very sick. He would not eat anything yesterday, just sat around, drank a bit of water, and sported a high fever. Today, he was a bit better. He actually hummed a bit, and snuck up behind Paw Paw (me) and stole my popcorn. I was sitting at this desk, dabbling with this computer, and he took most of my popcorn. Not only that, he took most of Nanna's (his grandmother) popcorn too. Well, I went ahead and asked his daddy, my son Nick, to bring me some cheese and mustard to go with the crackers that had mysteriously been left on my desk. Hey, don't knock it, if it works for my cousin Billy Bob in his movie Slingblade (I like mustard with mah taters) then it works okay for me.

While sitting here eating cheese on top of crackers, with a dab of mustard on top of the cheese, I got to reflecting how pretty it is here in the Arbuckle Mountains. I then remembered the only good photo I took out of about three hundred, and there it is, at the top of this page. So the next time you are sitting there eating mustard on cheese on crackers, and get that warm glow inside from remembering this public service I performed for you, DON'T SEND THANKS, SEND MONEY.....

PEACE OUT Y'ALL !

Word pictures.....

I am probably gonna catch some hell from our local Sheriff's Office over this post. You see, it started last evening. My ex-daughter in-law, (who is still like one of my own children) got stopped by one of the local reserve deputies. Heavy emphasis on "reserve", like in no CLEET certification. Petite, blond, female deputy follows my daughter inlaw from the corner of Highway 177 and Main street in Sulphur, to the Sonic Drive In at Sulphur, gets out of her car, and then walks up behind Sissy's car, and stands there for a few minutes and then walks up to the driver side window on Sissy's car. She claimed to have stopped my daughter in-law and three grand kids for not having a current tag on the 1980 Thunderbird my daughter in-law, it expired two months ago. The big problem with the deputy's claim as to the reason for the stop is, I went and looked at the tag, you cannot make out the year of the tag due to the way it is placed on the back of the car, under the bumper. The deputy stopped the car because it is old, and then called in a big, fat, good ol' boy deputy to back her up. They harassed my daughter in-law a bit more, threatened to put her in jail, and then told her the only reason they would not put her in jail is because she had her children with her.

Here is the rub...I spent the better part of my adult life as a cop. I worked traffic for a couple of decades. In Oklahoma, you can impound a vehicle for failure to pay all taxes due the state, but you cannot put the driver in jail for an expired tag. I am so damned tired of a bunch of thugs hiding behind a badge and a gun thinking they can just run rough shod over who actually pays their wages.

Well, I have to get up at four in the morning for a couple of days, to keep Sissy from driving her car to work. She gets paid on Tuesday, and then will get her car tagged properly. Am I angry with Sissy? Hell no, I am very proud of her. She has worked hard at turning her life around and making something of herself. Am I mad at the deputies? Hey, they will be looking for a job in another ten months......

PEACE OUT Y'ALL !

This is a gentle reminder that we are still a movie company, here at Ghost Shield. Right now we are producing two audio albums, (one music, one comedy) and possibly a video for one of the singles on the upcoming music album. The initial performer on the album is me. Yes, I actually do sing, even though I claim I do not. On our radio show, our numerous listeners got to hear some of my guitar work. Well, a lot more of that is coming your way, as soon as we are finished setting up the recording studio. Lots to do, and no real time to do it. We are having to catch time when we can. We have so many projects in the works, that the old adage, "Too many cooks spoils the broth", almost applies. Well, I will try not to be gone from my blog for another three weeks. I need to post on here daily, but......

PEACE OUT Y'ALL!

A heads up to my friends.....

This is a photo of my grand daughter Aurora. Pink is her favorite color, and she loves horses (has her own chocolate paint) kittens (has her own kitten) puppies (has a five year old puppy named Thumbalina her mommy got her) and pumpkins. She grew the pictured pumpkin all by herself. She named the pumpkin Petunia. She is also sporting a shiner (black eye) from a boy at school trying to take her ball away from her at recess. She kept the ball, even after he head-butted her. I love "Rory" more than life itself. She, her two brothers, he cousins over in Antlers, and her cousins up on the north east coast. These youngsters give my life meaning. I may have sounded a tad depressed yesterday, and I was, but....I will not go gently into the night. I live for the lovings I receive from my grandkids. They rock my world.

PEACE!!!

Third time ain't a charm....

If any of my relatives read this, please do not let my mother know what I write here. Mom has lung cancer, it is stable (meaning not progressing, she can live years yet, but her plate is overfilled). As I write this, I am battling skin cancer. I will not go through chemo again. This is the third time I am having to deal with cancer. The first time it was prostate and kidney. That one almost got me. The second time was skin cancer. So is this one. I have it on my chest, my back and elsewhere. I will go back to the doctors really soon. My last bout was a little over four years ago. Malignant, and I battled it myself with bloodroot and chelation. Now? I am bone tired and weary. It is not fun having absolutely no energy and being in pain constantly. I will win this one or will have given it my best effort. I used raw local honey as a topical, it helped, but now the rash and pustules are back. Death holds no terror for me, been there, done that. I just want to hang around for my grand children. They give me joy.

PEACE!!!

I have a wonderful family....

My cousin, Jimmie Green, did me a service that only a relative would know how to do. Jimmie is quite a young man. He is very talented, but the thing he did, was to place photographs of my family (grandfather, grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins) on his facebook page. Let me tell you right now, it brought tears to my eyes seeing all my kindred dead. The memories just flooded my brain. Soooooo, Jimmie, if you ever read this, you too are very precious to me. Love you cousin.

PEACE!!!

YEEEAAAAHHH....RIIIIIGGGGHHHHTTTT!!!

This image says it all.....Peace!

A True Chicken$#it Story

I have a very good friend who manages some cabins, lodges, and a motel, for another very good friend of mine. Jim has been around southern Oklahoma all his life. Before he and his lovely wife moved to the home they have now, they lived in the apartment at the office of the Canyon Breeze Motel, at exit 51, on Interstate 35, south of Davis, OK. Whew, man that is a mouth full. Across from the motel is Honey Creek, the same creek which feeds the falls at Turner Falls Park. From my earliest memories, there was an iron topped bridge crossing that creek, so you could drive the scenic drive along the top of the Arbuckle Mountains. Well, the state of Oklahoma had better ideas, they removed the old fully functioning bridge, and built a concrete one in it's place.

While all that construction was going on, there was a hen that came to visit Jim and his wife at the motel on a daily basis. Jim took to feeding the hen on the hunch that she had some eggs she was sitting on. Sure enough, one day, she showed up with a bunch of chicks tagging along behind her. She mothered the chicks until they grew to the point they were adult chickens. One of the chicks turned out to be a Ban-tum rooster. Jim named the rooster Cogburn...pun intended. All the other poultry but Cogburn got eaten by foxes, coyotes, and such. He survived!

Well, Rooster Cogburn is now a regular attendee at the world famous, Arbuckle Mountain Fried Pies, the store behind the motel. In the photo above, he is standing on the table in front of the store, waiting patiently, for a hand out. Even though folks put out chicken feed, he likes those fried pies a lot more. Just thought I would share a bit of my world.

PEACE!!!

It is late, I am tired, but.....

The grandkids are all in their beds, it is late, and Nanna and Paw Paw are retiring for the night. Blessings upon all of you.

PEACE OUT Y'ALL!!!

Say it ain't so.....

I bought the family plan at Netflix. I will still subscribe to their service, but, I am not happy. It only costs $7.99 per month to stream movies and such, but, you can only do so one item at a time. Not that I am greedy, it is just that if the grandkids are watching something on the television in the den, I can't watch a different offering from them on the computer in my bedroom.

PEACE!!!

I play guitar....

Well, I am about to embark upon a personal tour that I find exciting. I am going to finally produce an album that I control everything on. It is late right now, I am tired right now, but I can finally go to bed and dream dreams I want to dream.

PEACE OUT Y'ALL!!!

TIP JARS......?

I have long tipped at meals when dining out. Normally, my wife and I tip 15% of what the meal costs us. We do this when the service is above and beyond just bringing our meal to us. Normally, we just leave a five dollar bill. Our normal meal is usually around $26.00, so if we tip five dollars, we have over tipped by a dollar and ten cents. 15% of $26.00 is $3.90.

What does this have to do with anything? Well, this is the problem. I go into a doughnut shop to purchase breakfast for my sweetheart, usually a croissant with sausage, egg, and sometimes cheese. The guy behind the counter takes my order, puts the item in a sack, then rings up the purchase. What chaps my hide is the big, fat, jar sitting on the counter with a card reading "TIPS" taped to the front of it. I see this in lots of stores I go to, including at least one "super market". Where in the hell do these people get off thinking they deserve extra money for just doing their jobs? By law they have to be paid at least minimum wage, or $7.35 per hour. I know that is not a lot of money, but, it is sure more than the $2.45 per hour many waiters and waitresses earn. It is not like they are refilling my glass or anything. We have become a nation of bums.

PEACE!

Welfare recipients need to be drug tested....

I can hear the moans and groans now! But bear with me for just a moment.....
I spent a number of years in law enforcement, actually a number of decades in law enforcement, and during that tenure, I repeatedly found that the perpetrators of most crimes had a drug problem. I also found that many of those guilty of some really heinous acts against their fellow citizens, were on illegal drugs. Most of the folks whom I helped incarcerate were also receiving money every month from the government in one form of a welfare handout, or another. I personally know of some people who receive welfare checks and then take the money and buy meth with what you and I give to them (in the form of taxes). Now there is a proposal being submitted to Oklahoma law makers to institute drug screening for all applicants who want money from us taxpayers. GO FOR IT I SAY!

PEACE OUT Y'ALL!

Done with radio show.....

Pictured above is RottiJohn Edmonds. He is not as cantankerous as he looks in this photo...oops...well, yes he is. However, he is absolutely the best interviewer alive on radio right now. What has this to do with me not being involved in the radio show, Adventures Into the Strange? I have a heart condition I have kept secret for over two years now, in hope that my cancer stricken mother would not find out about it. She has lung cancer and has her own battles to fight. I am on the waiting list for a new heart, mine is damaged, and cannot be surgically repaired. I am also having severe headaches every day. Some hit the extreme migraine category, others are just harsh headaches. The doctors say it is a combination of too much stress, not enough rest, and this awful heat we are experiencing right now.

Now, back to RottiJohn. I endorse John to do the show with all my heart. All 3/4's of it. To everyone reading my blog, please give him and another great guy, Tom Krohmer aka The Toxic Reverend, all the help and such that you can. These two guys will move stuff that needs to be heard. I regret my not being involved anymore with the show, but, I have to begin to get more rest, and cannot do so, doing the show, and having a nightly obligation to be there at a certain time. Sometimes, I have to rest while the show is being played out, and I just cannot do it anymore. Well, my youngest grandson just wandered into my bedroom and stole my giant ALF doll, so gotta get off here and chase down the little culprit.

PEACE OUT Y'ALL!!!

Update on my grand children....

I have three beautiful grand children who live with my wife and me full time. At least that has been how it is for the last two years. Well, my son Nick's divorce has reached the stage where his soon to be ex-wife gets visitation with the children. They are over at her apartment right now having the time of their young lives. Like I told my daughter in-law, everyone has to win, and that includes her. If you are reading this, ever remember that Peace and Love conquer all. Blessings upon you and all those you love.

PEACE OUT Y'ALL!!!

A lesson learned.

You would think at my age, I would learn to keep my big fat mouth shut, and stop trying to save the world. Without naming names, had opportunity to meet a very young girl, and said girl wants to be a musician (performer) for her job later in life. Having had oodles of experience in dealing with that particular arena, I offered to help her get a CD she has made inserted into the public eye. Well, all was well until her friend stepped into the picture. He immediately befriended me on facebook, and soon after sent me an ugly email stating he "knew what I was up to" . Well, what I was up to, was attempting to help a child garner what she wants out of life. Simply trying to help her. If she opens an attachment I sent to her as a final and parting gift, all the contacts to do her album are in there. Just like helping the three children (my live in grand children) above, I was gonna help her. Well, it escalated to the point that I was basically being accused by her "friend" of being an internet stalker. He figured I was a sexual predator probably. Nope, I met her at a fried pie shop in Oklahoma City my friend Jerry is taking over. Simply put, I help anyone who asks me to if I can. I do have a bad habit of volunteering my help when not asked. Ergo, the opening sentence of this entry. Well, it is hotter than a three dollar pistol here in southern Oklahoma. I am gonna get off here and go back to the air conditioning. Incidentally, if either of you two kids read this, the boy or the girl, God bless you both. I sincerely hope you each have a long and enjoyable life.

PEACE!

It is hot mama!

It is hotter than a three dollar pistol out there in the world. Especially here in southern Oklahoma, and in southern Arizona, it is more than just hot, it is brutal. My brother John out there, has no air in one end of his house. Hopefully, it will be fixed really soon.

PEACE!!!

WEEEEE'RRRREEEEE BAAAAACCCCCCKKKK!

WE ARE BACK IN THE SADDLE ! ! ! JOIN ROTTIJOHN EDMONDS WEEKNIGHTS, 7PM CENTRAL TIME, FOR HIGH ADVENTURE VIA THE SHOW...ADVENTURES INTO THE STRANGE. ON BOTH BLOGTALK RADIO, AND UBROADCAST....SEE YA AT THE SHOW....


PEACE OUT Y'ALL !!!!!!!

Everyone does it?

I guess almost everyone does it, pick their nose that is.....


I have been told, that with the increased costs of gold, silver, oil, food and medicines.....

The only place left for a person to mine, in hope of striking it rich, is their own nose......

And that brings me to our POTUS....he has mined his so much, that his only way to mine his nose anymore, is with a tele-prompter. Nuff Said!!!

Peace Out Y'all!

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT!!!

It has come to my attention that many of you are flying around on your brooms while intoxicated. I know this seems like a cool thing to do, but the photo below is a prime example of what can happen when you mix whiskey and flying on a broom!

This has been a public service announcement, brought to you by, ADVENTURES INTO THE STRANGE RADIO SHOW!

PEACE OUT Y'ALL!

We are just about to begin again.....

I am going to attempt to revisit and repost on this blog on a daily basis.

We will be once again doing the radio show, "ADVENTURES INTO THE STRANGE" soon. I shut down the show due to the fact I was having to pay a fairly expensive set of fees, maintenance costs, equipment costs, etc. on my own. I had very little in the way of help to produce the show. Well, I now have an anonymous benefactor who is going to pay for all the costs, and when we sell advertising, we get to keep the dividends. To do the two hour nightly show, it takes a great deal of preparations, and one little guy like me cannot do it all. Now? Now I am going to have some help. So see ya on the radio.

PEACE OUT Y'ALL !

Shooting the Loop....

When I was really, really young, I had opportunity to witness something I just had to try later. I watched this guy take a motorized bicycle, and speedily, jump across a chasm in a board ramp, while he was upside down. I thought that was just the coolist thing I had ever seen in my entire ten years of life. Man, I could not wait to try it myself. My biggest problem lay in the fact I did not have a boarded loop. This one glaring fact really did not matter that much to me, I figured I could just use this huge concrete drainage ditch at the end of town. All these decades later, sometimes, my head still hurts where there is a dent from my one attempt to be a daredevil. PEACE!

What's a little racism, among friends?

I am the product of a bi-racial marriage. My father is an American Indian, my mother is of Germanic heritage. I have brown cousins, black cousins, white cousins. So it chaps my hide that Dr. Laura (a racist) gets a pass for being a racist. She repeatedly uttered a word that to me is most profane, (a racist word for black folks) and not only did so, she defends her use of the word on national radio. You would think she would know better. But nooooooo......she is the great Dr. Laura. I am so tired of self righteous bigots. I am glad she is no longer on the air. PEACE!

Unusual Wild Life.....

Sometimes, ya just have to let go and absorb that which is around you. That is all fine and well, unless you have a velociraptor in your garden. PEACE!

Fandango....part 2

Pictured above, are my oldest son, and my youngest grandson. The oldest son is his uncle. I published the previous article saying my grandson should be renamed Fandango, instead of Ashton...Well....not really, he ought to be renamed TURBO. He is in his bed, (a large crib) running from one end to the other, humming, basically letting Nanna and me know his displeasure. He wants to get out and PLAY! Get real kid, it is 12:05 AM, like MIDNIGHT! Go to sleep boy. PEACE!

Fandango....

This two year old child is my grandson. His name is Ashton, but it should have been Fandango. Why? Do not let the subtle photo fool ya. He will drink his bottle, then, when you least expect it, he is running all over the house, seeing just how much mischief he can get into. Last night he was up until 1:30 in the morning. Finally, Nanna got him to lay down for just a minute, and he zonked out. PEACE!

Not In This Lifetime....

I like old stuff...the shooter in the photo above was hand made in 1871. It is my favorite possession, period. I do not consider my family a possession, they are a blessing. Do I own other firearms? Yes, I do. What makes this one special? I have had this particular gun longer than most of the folks reading this blog have been alive. As old as it is, I still shoot it, and it is my constant companion. Most of my friends own handguns, and most of my friends carry them. Are we a bunch of blood thirsty killers? No, most of us are either parents or grand parents. We just reserve the right to preserve our lives so we can continue to enjoy our families. So......for all you progressive gun control liberals out there, if a bad guy shows up and you are with me, I will make sure the bad guy does not hurt either you or me. Not in this lifetime anyway. PEACE!!!

Unexpected Blessings

Awhile back, my son Nick and his former wife Crystal, were driving to town from our place in the backwoods. They were going to town to fetch something, just not sure what it was right now. One of my adult sons got a phone call from Nick telling him his truck was on fire, and he and Crystal needed a ride home. I thought maybe they had put the fire out and that we needed to tow it to the house and repair it. R-R-R-I-I-I-G-G-G-H-H-H-T-T-T! The truck (pictured above) was toast, it burned up. Now I imagine there are those of you scratching your head and asking how that truck burning could be a blessing. Well, the blessing was that my two kids did not end up burning to death in that little truck. They both came away unscathed. I am very thankful and have told God so, that those two are okay. Trucks can be replaced. PEACE ! ! !

The Dance

They'd been friends since elementary school. Best friends. They went fishing, skinny dipping, frog chasing, tree climbing, bicycle riding, and haunted house adventuring since the third grade. Then, "SHE" began to change physically. She no longer looked like a boy, heck no, she was getting bumps and curves in all the right places. Or wrong places, it was really a matter of perspective. She actually made him wear a swim suit when swimming in the creek now. However, they still went fishing, frog chasing, tree climbing, bicycle riding, and haunted house adventuring together. They just would not go swimming "nekkid" anymore. Time went on for the two friends.
They tried the new fangled kissing that everyone was just crazy about, but it was worse than trying to practice kissing with one's brother or sister. They made it through puberty, and thoroughly enjoyed driving their respective parents crazy, with continual questions about sex, even though they already knew the answers. It was just sooooooo much fun, asking embarassing questions, and watching their parents squirm.
More time elapsed and the two friends soon found themselves getting ready to graduate from high school, and then progress on to college. Due to being sent to different colleges, they decided to dance with nobody else at the prom, but themselves. He picked her up at her house precisely at seven that evening. The evening of the prom. She came to the door dressed in a green evening gown, elegantly laced with ribbons and spider web lacing. Her light brunette hair was swept back and held in place by a crystal clasp. Her long locks fell to the small of her bare back. Large green eyes stared deeply into his soul as she smiled, her beautiful pearly white teeth glistening, her olive skin giving an actual soft glow in the moonlight. He stood there, and for the first time in his life, knew he actually did have romantic feelings for this fine and lovely young lady. He escorted her to the waiting car that was going to ferry them to the prom. They were not being driven to the prom by a parent, no, he paid for a limo with attendent driver. Nothing would spoil this night for them. He asked her if she would like to stop someplace for a bite to eat before the prom? She promptly replied, that she had just eaten a fairly large meal before he arrived. She stated she wanted to have a lot of energy to enjoy a night of dancing and frivolity.
They arrived at the country club banquet hall and gave the doorman their invitations to the prom. He checked and motioned for them to go inside. Once they were inside they began to dance. When the rock band played fast music, most of the other guys in the banquet hall either remained with their respective dates, or simply clustered about to talk to one another. However, when the band played slow music, boys came out to the woodwork like scurrying cockroaches to get to the queen. Yes, she was by far the most beautiful girl at the prom that night. Time and time again he had to tell the other boys she was his that night. Time and time again, she agreed with him and told the wannabe suitors that she was taken for the night. Though they admonished the other young men that it was a useless ploy, the other young men kept coming back to beg a dance with her.
Suddenly, the band announced they would be taking a thirty minute break.
Cautiously, he asked her if she would like some punch. She replied that she would. He walked toward the long table with the huge punch bowl and retrieved a goblet of punch for each of them, turned, and began to make his way back to his girl. Once he had turned to walk back to her, he noticed that nearly every young man in the banquet hall was gathered around her, and attempting to talk to her.
Then the surprise of their young lives took place.
There was a gurgling sound that seemed to be coming from her stomach area. Her face began turning a slight shade of red, and then there was a loud explosion. Four things happened simultaneously: Her evening gown lifted at the back. A loud boom was heard to come from that area. A murderous stench blossomed, as if it were a mushroom cloud formed by an atomic bomb being detonated, and....all those young men began to swiftly depart from her general area. Most of the young men were retching and gagging as they left her.
Her only response was to say quietly, "Excuse me."
Her date's response was to set down one of the goblets, slap his thigh, and loudly exclaim for all to hear,
"Hot Dayum, I wish I could FART like that!"

What is that stuff up there?

Many is the time I have looked skyward, and witnessed strange things. Sometimes, it is natural stuff, like a Redtailed Hawk diving to pick up a hapless mouse. Sometimes, it is unexplained lights in the sky. Well, there is one thing that I do have an explanation for, and it is not the one the conspiracy folks want to hear. Chemtrails!

Chemtrails are not being let out of the spraying equipment on jets to poison us on the ground, they are not trying to thin our population. Chemtrails are not about global warming either. What are they? The answer is really quite simple. HAARP is actually a communications device, enabling the United States Navy to communicate with their submarines around the world. Wirless communication, many times, relies upon line of sight to interconnect. However, if you can make a cloud barrier to "skip" your radio waves, you can use directional frequencies to get communications set up anywhere on the globe. Can HAARP be used as a weapon? You betchya! But, that is a different post for a different time. PEACE

The Blame Game.....

The recent shooting in Arizona, the attempted murder of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, is horrible. Make no mistake, it was attempted murder. I have been praying for her and the other victims, and the families of those killed on a constant basis. I encourage everyone who reads this to do the same. Forget the politicising of this horrible crime. Just pray for those afflicted, let the political stuff lay down for now. PEACE !

A rebutal to an Arab's viewpoint....

I have not posted on this blog since March of last year. I actually forgot that I had started this blog. That being said, I am not going to use this blog as a "Bully Pulpit" to express my opinions of the opinions of others. Whew, that is a mouthful. This particular Middle-easterner, states that every western male he has met is basically a woman in the disquise of being a male. Well buddy, you need to hum your prissy butt down to the southern states for awhile. My brother John and I wrote a funny little book titled, Southern Fried Life. Though the premise of the book is humor, it does contain a plethora of wisdoms describing the southern male.

In your article, posted on Jeff Rense's website, you take a shot at American men as being feminine. You brag about how in your culture, testosterone is thick in the atmosphere, how you are all real men. In your culture, women are kept in their place and know what their place is. Well bunky, my late grand mothers, either one of them, would take a skillet and kick your ass.

Our women (here in the south) are the equivelant of a goddess, our men are manly men, and we do not need some raghead telling us what we are. Go on back to your desert and enjoy the sand while you can. One of these days, and probably fairly soon, we will not be pumping oil over there any more, and the only thing you folks will have left to export are dates and olives. I hope you enjoy you life, may it be long, and my you someday wake up to the fact you folks have repressed the women in your society for centuries, due to a robbing, slave trading, illiterate pedophile who somehow is considered a prophet by your culture. Nuff said!