Public Service Announcement

This is a Public Service Announcement designed to help further the cause of male/female understanding. Ladies if you go to bed topless then there is a good chance that your man will inadvertently gravitate to that naked breast. If you will be offended if during a semi-conscience state, he inadvertently senses this nudeness as some sort of invitation to an amorous late night tryst. Might I suggest wearing a tee-shirt or some other barrier garment to bed. This should curtail many late night misunderstandings or at least give you enough time to let him know that these advances are not appreciated.

Thank you. Have a great day and you may now return to your regularly scheduled entertainment.

He's Back

That's right, my mullet headed neighbor has returned from a two months absence. This has been his longest hiatus from his happy home since moving here two years ago. Usually it is about a two week on and two week off type of thing but after two months I thought that maybe I had seen the last of the mullet man. I should have seen the signs coming of his return. For one thing, I haven't noticed a light on in the house in two weeks. For another thing, his Okie wife has only had one boyfriend since his absence. ( No offence intended towards any Natives or Residents of Oklahoma. As they say some of my best friends are Okies.)

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy. I so missed the 2:00 a.m. screaming matches and I had almost forgotten the excitement of flashing cop cars pulling up outside. Now I can even start receiving phone calls from family and friends who have listened to the scanner and request a blow by blow commentary.

However, there have been some changes. The mullet man has cut his hair. Perhaps he has been on some monastic retreat and cut his hair as some sort of penance. Another change he has not brought back any of the mongrels that he took on his sojourn, perhaps they were eaten in hard times at the monastery.

Is it in good taste to give a re-housewarming gift? Perhaps I could send over a five pack of beer or a get out of jail free card.

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If you haven't checked out my guest post at BvB. What are you waiting for?

A New Twist To An Old Story

This post was originally posted on October 12, 2005. Sorry about the quality of the audio in spots. My cell phone was cutting out a bit due to the cloud cover. I am not going to curse the rain though because we need it bad here. We have received 8/100 of an inch since October.

Don't forget to head over to Beauty versus The Beast and check out my guest post. I would appreciate it.

Round Two

Yes it is time for my Round Two at Beauty versus The Beast. I wonder at the sanity of Siren for allowing me to trash up her blogsite once again. But she is either the most gracious person on the face of the earth or a sucker for punishment. The Phoenix is on hiatus from the site or he probably would have warned her.

Last time in the early going I was trashed by the verbal might of The Weirdgirl but thanks to you, my awesome blogfriends, I was able to eke out a bit of respectability. I decided that this time around I would not make the error of my first appearance. This time I was not going for my beastly best approach but instead I would reach in deep and dig out Mr. Sensitivity.

I had to dig really deep but I found him and banged out my post. I hadn't dug out Mr. Sensitivity in awhile. I found that he is rather sarcastic for a wuss. Perhaps I didn't dig deep enough and found Mr. Wiseass instead of Mr. Sensitivity. You can be the judge on that though by just heading over to BvB and watch as I am pummeled once again.

I just hope that Vic is not a poor winner and at least offers me some sort of consolation prize.

Talkin' Texan: Part Two

Since the last post didn't have everyone headed for the exit, I decided to go ahead and push my luck by doing another post of some of the phrases that I hear spoken on a regular basis. I was somewhat surprised at how many of the phrases are so wide spread but as they say, 'There is nothing new under the sun and anything that can be done has probably been done.' But here is a short list of some more West Texas phrases.

1) Shit like a big eyed bird. - When you have to go and go quick.

2) Nervous as a long tailed cat in a roomful of Rocking Chairs. - This one is self explanatory. I know that I would be nervous in that situation.

3) Like a mad woman slinging shit. - If you have ever seen it then you know what I am talking about.

4) Drunker than a waltzin' piss ant. - And that is mighty tippsy.

5) My stomach thinks that my throat has been slashed. - That is a powerful hunger.

6) So horny that I would f**k the crack of dawn. - I once had a friend named Dawn that was never amused by this saying.

7) Shining like a diamond in a pig's ass. - Standing out in the crowd in a big way.

8) Tighter than three fingers up a bull's ass. - Describes a person very tight with their money.

9) Rear up to take a shit. - Generally rear is pronounced rare. It describes the way a person feels after they overeat. Used most often as, 'Damn, that was good. Now I'm going to have to rare up to shit.

10) Sweating like a whore in Sunday School. - Now that is some nervous perspiration.

That's my list for today. I am thinking about reinstituting my phrase of the weekend so I am holding a few back. Before I sign off, I would like to thank everyone for giving me some new phrases. There is nothing like adding a little color to the vocabulary.

How To Talk Like A West Texan: Part One?

I like to think that I am carrying on the tradition of Mark Twain in my writing by injecting homespun phrases and colorful regional metaphors and not just the fact that I write this way because I am a hick from the sticks (call it self-delusional; if you must.)

I thought that I would post a few of my favorite sayings and words that I have grown up hearing. I know that some of these are not just local phrases but the way they are said or the way that they are used might be unique.

I will first list the word or phrase and then a definition. I know that you have probably heard me use some of these phrases and at times you might have wondered just what in the hell am I saying.

1) Richer than nine feet up a bull's ass. - Very financially secure.

2) Dryer than a popcorn fart. - The weather condition most applicable in West Texas.

3) Rainin' like a cow pissin' on a flat rock. - An unusual weather condition in West Texas.

4) Tighter than a little mouses ear. - A desirous quality of the female anatomy.

5) That girl is so purty that I would pay 5 dollars to sleep with her brother. - Used to describe a very attractive female.

6) Gooder than snot. - Used to describe a food item after someone has asked how it tastes. Can mean that it is actually good or can be used so as not to hurt the feelings of the cook.

7) Grubby little dick beaters. - A mans hands, most often used in conjunction with, 'Get those grubby little dick beaters off of me.'

8) Hornier than a three legged billy goat. - I have always wondered about this one. Is the goat horny because he is propping himself up with his penis or is he horny from dragging his pecker in the dirt? I really don't know.

9) Wilder than three cats f**kin'. - Listening to the sexual act of two cats is crazy enough but add a third and you have something.

10) Since Jesus wore knee-britches. - A long time indeed.

11) Couldn't find his ass with both hands and a flashlight. - Used when describing in-laws and less than intelligent co-workers.

12) I'm so happy I could shit. - Why? I don't really know but it is a sarcastic thing to say when someone asks how you are doing.

13) I wouldn't piss up his ass if his gut's was on fire. - Used when describing a very sorry sumbitch.

14) Sun's gotta shine on a dog's ass ever once in awhile. - Used to describe when some lucky incident comes your way.

15) She's so ugly that she'd make a freight train take a dirt road. - Now that is ugly folks.

The list could go on and on but I will stop at that for today. I might be able to crank off two or three posts with this topic. Because as they say around here, 'I'm so full of shit that my eyes are turnin' brown.'

Ice, Ice, Baby

As of this morning, we haven't received any snow but only it's ugly evil step-sister, freezing rain. It didn't even stick which I am thankful for because I hate ice. I have always had a distaste for it but about six years ago, I had a little incident and ever since have absolutely loathed it.

I was going out to warm up the car in order to take the kids to school. I wasn't planning to do anything else so I just slipped on my moccasins rather than going to the trouble of putting on shoes. There was a thin layer of ice on the porch and as I was stepping onto the sidewalk, I lost my footing and fell. My ass hit the sidewalk like a ton of bricks and the back of my head struck the porch.

I had a slight pain on the back of my head and I was slightly woozy but other than that I thought that I had only hurt my pride. I felt back there and there was not even a bump. So I got the car started and then took the kids to school. I puttered around the house until about noon and then took a nap. I was getting a bit of a headache but other than that I felt fine.

By that evening, the ice was quite a bit thicker and my 30 mile drive to work took quite a bit longer than usual as I could only drive about 30 to 40 miles per hour without slipping and sliding. Through the night at work, my slight headache had become a throbbing splitting thing of torture. When my shift was over, I drove 30 miles in another direction to the clinic.

They did a few tests and asked a few questions. I told them when I did it and what I had been doing. The doc told me that I had a concussion but he did not know how severe it was and said that I should go to the hospital another 30 miles away through the now awful road conditions. He wanted to talk to the person who had brought me to the clinic but I told him that I had driven myself to the clinic. He genuinely showed shock that I had been able to drive myself to the clinic but told me that he could not let me drive myself to the hospital and if I didn't have anyone to drive me then he would have to send me in an ambulance.

I really did not want to have to pay the added expense of an ambulance and I was in the town where my in-laws lived so I called them up. My mother-in-law and father-in-law were kind enough to take me to the hospital and since my mother-in-law was a retired CitiBus driver from Midland, she was not bothered with driving on the ice. We made fairly good time getting to the hospital but by this time my headache had gained a life of it's own.

After about a three hour wait in the E.R., they finally stuck me in an examination room. After taking my vitals, the nurse showed me a little numbered chart. The chart showed various emoticons ranging from the grinning like the cat who ate the canary #1 to the crying like the baby who had just had his candy taken away #10. I did not want to seem like a wuss that couldn't handle a little headache so I said it was about a #7. During my three hour wait in that god-forsaken exam room, what I had told them was a number #7 had progressed to a #13 (which if I had showed them one of their cutesy god-damned emoticon, would have been a tortured soul in hell with it's face melting off) and beleive me I started being honest with the nurses.

After being run through various machinary when the doctors finally arrived, I was told that I had a mild to moderate concussion and they would write me a prescription for some Vicodin and I should come back to one of them in two weeks for a check up.

I had my in-laws take me to the pharmacy to finally get me some releif for my headache. I had only had it for 31 freakin' hours. Why the hell they couldn't have gave me something in the hospital is beyond me.

Since then I never wear my f**kin' moccasins outside, when it is icy. And now if I do not have to go outside in the ice then by God I don't. So I plan to lounge around the house today and remain all comfy cozy. I wish that I had a fireplace though. While doing this post I got a terrible hunger for some S'mores.

Getting Professional

A co-worker at the home office was recently reprimanded for her grammer and diction. I have never worried about this as long ago I cultivated a professional phone voice. I tried to combine the oily slickness of a used car salesman and the hucksterism of Chuck Woolery. I think that I have succeeded to a certain extent. I am glad however that I do not work at the home office for I do not know if I could keep up the facade for eight or ten hours a day.

Although I will admit that my Texas accent is rather strong, I do not think that the home office gives a rip as to the grammer used by the rest of the plants. My counterpart in Sandersville, Georgia has an accent that puts mine to shame. In comparison to his voice, my voice would enable me to play the lead in Shakespeare's, 'MacBeth.'

But see what you think. And Have Yourself A Very Nice Day.

Fun in the Snow: West Texas Style

The weather forecast is calling for snow here in West Texas this weekend. I love the snow. It snows here maybe once a year if we are lucky. I do not think that I would like it as a consistant weather phenomena but as long as it only snows once or twice a year and melts within a day or two, it can be a lot of fun. Here are my top five things to do when it snows in West Texas.

5) Write your name in the snow. That's a given isn't it. It gives a great visual to work on your penmanship.

4) Snowball fights. There is not too many things more enjoyable in life then pegging some neighborhood brat with a well packed snowball. To go along with this at work there is a storage area above the quality control lab. It is perfect for carrying a snow boulder to the top and wait for a q.c. tech to come out of the lab and then drop the snowboulder on his unsuspecting noggin.

3) Connect a car hood to the back of a 4x4 with a long chain. It turns any large parking lot into a redneck sledding adventure.

2) Small child bowl sledding. This was a snow event taught to Angry Joyce and myself by her friend Crazy Christine. You take a large metal bowl and spray the bottom of it in order to get it extra slickery. (yes that is a word, take my word for it.) Then carry the bowl to the top of a wheel chair ramp or any other incline that you can find. Put a small child into the bowl and give a slight nudge. According to the temperment of the child, this is good for hours of fun.

1) Snow Ice Cream. After you are through with the bowl used for small child bowl sledding, nothing beats whipping up a batch of good old-fashioned snow ice cream. Snow, sugar, milk, and vanilla whipped into sheer ambrosia. Just make sure that no one has written their name in the snow that you use for the ice cream.

My Mushy Valentines Post

I know that I have a lot of fun giving Angry Joyce hell on this site. The truth is though that I love her immensely and do not know what I would do without her. For one she has hid all my shit to the point where if I need anything I have to ask her where the hell it is and for another reason although it has been only a little over 10 years since we married sometimes I have a hard time remembering my life without her in it.

When I first met my wife, she was working in a convenience store. A lot of my friends had asked me if I had seen the new cashier at the Fina. I had to tell them no as this was a store that I avoided like the plague. They all told me how hot she was but I figured that if they had managed to find a half decent looking employee then she had to stick out like a diamond in a pig's ass. This store had the scaggliest looking employees that walked the face of the earth so I doubted the validity of the story of the hot new cashier. But after much pestering from my buds, I decided to go and check her out for myself.

I strolled over to the soda fountain and glanced over at the cash register and the cashier and they were telling the truth. There she stood with short bleach blond hair, a curvaceous figure, and a winning smile. I thought to myself that here might be something. When I was checking out, from her mouth issued some smart ass remark that got under my skin in no time flat and pissed me off to the extreme. I cannot remember what it was that she said but I do remember that it turned me off instantly.

Evidently it did not piss me off altogether though for I kept returning to this store during her working hours and she kept right on with her smart ass remarks and right on pissing me off. I finally got pissed off enough that I did not return to the store. Then a strange thing started happening. I would think about her whenever I passed the store and then I started thinking about her all the time. I would think about the way she looked and I would think about the way that she pissed me off. It was driving me crazy wondering how she had been able to get under my skin when I had been a confirmed love 'em and leave 'em type for so long.

I finally decided that there was only one solution and that was to ask her out on a date. I did not however want to do the typical dinner and dancing or dinner and movie type of thing. These things were old hat and I would simply be performing an old trick and fall into old habits of not looking at the person underneath but only what I could get out of the relationship. The next day, she was at work so I headed over there and asked her out to a weekly barbeque that a few friends of mine held every weekend. I figured that it was a comfortable setting and we could relax and get to know one another and I could find out just what it was about her that let her get under my skin.

I found out that she is an extremely witty and engaging person and perhaps the reason she gets under my skin (she still does) is that I may have been a little wary of being with someone that forces me to stay on my toes and forcing me to always stay on top of every conversation. To make a long story short, the next week we had our first real date going out to dinner and then dancing. After that date, I basically stayed the night until she moved in with me. Three months later, we were married. I had waited two months shy of my thirtieth birthday to find the woman that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with and I did not see any reason to wait any longer.

J.R., ten years seem as but a day. Happy Valentines Day and know that I love you not only on this day but each and every day for the rest of our lives.

Special Messages

My brother, Big D, is a notorious call screener. So I love to leave him goofy phone messages. In fact, I like leaving them so much that sometimes it disappoints me when he answers after I have came up with a supremely goofy message. I felt like doing an audio post so here is my infamous bad imitation of Stone Philips, that I once left on his machine. I feel pretty safe as I doubt any of you can throw any rotten vegatables at me sitting in my bedroom.

Just One Of Those Days

To paraphrase Fred Durst, 'It's just one of those days when you don't want to wake up. When everythings f**ked and everbody sucks. And if things keep going this way, I might have to break some f**king shit tonight.'

My day started shitty both literally and figuratively . I don't know how an ostrich shinnied up the tree that I was parked under but that is the only damn bird that I can think of that could have completely covered my windshield with crap. It is either that or my snake charming neighbor prayers have finally been answered and a plague of small shitbirds have targeted my windshield as their own personal port-a-potty.

I don't know what that freakin' bird has been eating but whatever it was it would make one hell of a sealant. My windshield washer and wipers did nothing but smear the birdshit all over my windshield. So there I am cruising down to the carwash, with my head hanging out the window so that I could see. I get to the carwash and proceed to wash off all the crap from my windshield in the freezing ass cold.

But as Bruce would say, ' Yippee Ki-Yay Motherf**ker, tomorrows Friday.' I am ready for this weekend. I am going to grab my Excaliber sword off the wall, climb up the tree, wait for that big bird, stab his ass, and bar-b-que me a damned ostrich.

Can't A Person Get A Moments Peace

I was reading through the paper yesterday afternoon when I came across a story that flat out pissed me off. Legislation is being considered in at least 14 states that will limit when and where protests may be allowed at funerals. What have we become as a society; when this type of law has to be considered?

The latest protests are by a group of Christian fundamentalists. The Westboro Baptist Church, headquartered in Topeka, Kansas, are protesting at the funerals of soldiers. These religous zealots carry protest signs, which state the message that these soldiers were struck down by God because they were fighting for a country that harbors homosexuals and adulterers. They also made a name for themselves in the '90's for protesting at the funerals of Aids victims.

The paper went on to say that this will bring about a clash between privacy and free speech rights. I say bullshit. It does not matter what a persons thoughts are on this war, it does not matter what your thoughts of homosexuality are, and it does not even matter if you feel the deceased was a complete ass. What does matter is the right of each and every human being to be allowed to be given their final respects in a dignified and honorable fashion.

This country seems to have an ever growing population of uncivilized cretins, who care nothing for the rights of others but only a nagging voice to have each and every one of their crackpot ideas shoved into the face of their fellow man. Freedom of speech along with the other basic freedoms given to us in The Bill of Rights are strong pillars for a just and great Nation. I will not abridge anyone's right to say whatever the hell they want to say from the highest mountaintop but when that right interferes with the common decency and respect that should be afforded to each person as they are laid to rest, then that is when I must say that enough is enough.

I say if such a law must be passed then by all means give it some teeth. Anyone convicted of making a mockery of the final rights of any person should be taken to the town square and publicly horse-whipped until either they learn respect for their fellow man or at least have gained the knowledge of when to keep their damned mouth shut.

If such laws are not feasible then I have an alternate solution. These protesters should be invited to try that shit here in West Texas. I am sure that if any were to show up and spread their idiocy at the funeral of a proud son or daughter of Texas, they would receive a lesson in good manners. Their protest signs would be shot from their hands and they would be ducking, diving, and swinging from Mesquite tree branch to Mesquite tree branch in order to escape gun-packing Grannies bent upon teaching them some manners.

Let Me Talk At Ya

Finding A Niche

Thanks to The Weirdgirl, I might have found my creative niche in writing. It is a subject that is probably underserved and with a built in fanbase that could only expand with time and is ripe for exploitation. What genre you ask; lesbian erotic sci-fi.

I cannot believe that I have never heard of this before. It should be one of the most popular forms of fiction out there. Just think of the diverse fan base this genre should hold.

1) The Gay and Lesbian Alliance - It is a no-brainer for this group to promote this genre. It practically screams the cry for mainstreaming their views of diversifacation in the future.
2) Straight Men - There is nothing more straight to a man than watching lesbian porn. Why not expand it to include lesbian erotica?
3) Geeks - They are already hooked on sci-fi and dirty mags under their mattresses. They should love it.
4) Sexually Curious Women - There are more of these individuals than meets the eye. God bless them all. ( Maybe that is just the straight man in me doing some wishful thinking.)

Now that I have found a niche, all I need are a few ideas and a few good working titles. How about, 'Space Dykes from Delta 69', 'Licked in Space', 'Making My Way Through The Milky Way', and 'The Black Hole Conquered.'? With titles like these 'The Sci-Fi Channel' should be flooding me with requests to have them turned into Sci-Fi original movies.

Whoopsy, Who's Bad?

This week, I made a mistake. I don't admit it very often but I must this time. Perhaps I should have paid more attention to the old saying, 'After pride, comes the fall.' I have always prided myself on my knowledge of every adage, maxim, tired cliche, nuance, and inflection of the particular Redneck dialect of the English language that is spoken in this general area. I suppose that is where I overestimated my ability to communicate with people.

I had just finished giving the weekly safety meeting and was lingering to talk to a driver about his therepy from an ankle injury. A new employee came into the meeting room and requested the day off. I could see that his eyes were red and he was in an obvious state of agitation so I give him my most sympethetic, 'Sure, What's Up?' He looks up at me and states, ' I lost my child.' I then proceeded to tell him that I was sorry and to go ahead and take as much time as he needed.

Both of us being fathers, the driver and I discussed how we didn't know how we could handle such a loss. On my way back to my office, I stopped by the administrative assistant's desk and told her that the employee would not be coming in and if the company paid bereavement pay for employees before the end of their probationary period. She asked why and I told her what I had been told and she said that she would check. I also told her that she might call her friend the florist and see about sending a plant or some flowers from the folks here at the plant.

The next morning, the new employee came into my office and said that he needed to clear up a misunderstanding. He said that the child was not dead but that his girlfriend, the baby's mother, had taken the baby and he didn't know where they had gone. He had received a call and someone sent their condolences for the death of his child. He thought and thought on who could have started this rumour and came back to his words of that morning and his telling of his loss.

It being a small town the news had spread quickly from prayer groups to coffee shops. Numerous retellings of the story had transformed this sad tale into several stories ranging from death due to illness all the way to the story of the childs mother murdering the baby and then commiting suicide. All this from our sending a plant when the father had wanted a day off of work after the loss of his child.

I do not wish to make light of his troubles but damnit I wish that he would have made himself clear. You lose your keys or you lose that condom that you keep under the seat of the car but you do not explain your girlfriend taking the baby and hauling ass as 'losing your child'. Most guys in that situation would simply say, 'My old lady hauled ass with my young 'un and I need the day off to track her ass down.'

I hope that the child is fine and that soon he hears from the mother. But maybe I need to give a questionaire to prospective employees. Just to see if they speak the same language.