Some Things

Some things in life are confusing at first but then are easily mastered. Like the first time as a teen that you encounter a front clasp bra in the front seat of your parents Pontiac.

Some things in life are always confusing like a Spanish speaking soap opera.

Some things make us happy when we are young but the thrill is gone as we age. Like partying until dawn.

Some things always make us happy like seeing a smile on a loved ones face or a good BLT sandwich.

Some things in life are painful at first but then become sweet later in life. Like discovering that the old high school sweetheart that dumped you has now become a fat ugly shrew.

Some things in life are always painful. Like like the cheerleader that you turned down back in high school is even hotter now than she was in high school.

Some things in life bother us at first but now put a smile on our face. Like when a sappy '80's pop song that you hated on the radio now has you singing along on a VH-1 retrospective.

Some things in life always bother us. Like remembering that hot drunken high school cheerleader that you wouldn't get with because you were faithful to your high school cheerleader that eventually dumped you anyway.

Some things in life suck at first but then we adjust. Like having to remember to put down the lid on the toilet after you take a piss.

Some things in life always suck. Like how the fuck could I have passed over the chance to bang that hot drunken cheerleader for that two-timing, backstabbing, fat bitch in the making, high school sweetheart.

Hi Tech World; Lo Tech Redneck

Technology has done wonderful things for mankind. Sometimes though, I wonder if technology has gone just a little too far.

I left one of my thoughts on this subject in a guest post over at Jane's place. If you want too see me at one of my most profound moments click over there and get some food for thought. (Yeh right like I ever get profound. It's more like profane.)

And my thanks to Jane for having me. Hope your readers don't bolt, darlin'. Luv ya!

Thanks

On this Memorial Day, I give remembrance to all the brave soldiers who have sacrificed in order to keep us free. Thank you!!!

Shits And Giggles

Today at work, I went into Central Control and asked the officer in Central to answer a question for me. She has to answer umpteen thousand questions a day regarding security, safety, and matters of great import, so she just gave me one of those looks over the top of her glasses that basically said 'Why don't you go outside and play hide and go fuck yourself.' I gave her my best serious face and asked, " What are the words to Pop Goes The Weasel?'

After laughing her ass off and humming the song, she stated that she didn't know. I then went on my merry way. By the end of the day, she had called the tower, the front office, the supervisor, the Warden, and asked everyone in the facility that stopped by Central. By the end of the day everyone in the entire facility was singing Pop Goes The Weasel in varied lyrics.

If you cannot imagine what it is like for close to fifty adults to be walking around singing Pop Goes The Weasel, let me tell you it is funny as hell. And all because I was trying to get a rise out of one person. It made my day.

( As for the pic, I really couldn't post a pic of a weasel could I? I figured Lil' Bo Peep was a much better visual. Hey it's a nursery rhyme. That's close enough in my book. )

TrailerBilly Dreamin'

Last night I dreamed of inventing a new improved version of Fix-A-Flat. Instead of just plain foam in a can, it was a concoction of crystal meth and Everclear. It fixed flats like all get out but it made your car speed and stop to pick up ugly people of the opposite sex. So I guess I have a few kinks to work out.

Judge Not

I was watching an episode of Judge Alex with Angry Joyce. I generally hate these shows but she was watching it so I sat there and wasted a half hour of my life that I will never get back. On this episode, a man had bought a stripper a couch and two months later moved in with her as a roommate. He was alleging that he owed her $2,600 for the couch. She was contending that it was a loan.

The point where he lost his case came, in my opinion, when he stated that he never wanted a sexual relationship with the stripper. I knew at this point that he was a complete lier. I told Angry Joyce that no man would ever move in with a stripper and not want to have sex with her. Furthermore, it is my contention that there has never been a man that has lived with a woman, that is not a relative, and not wanted to have sex with her at one time or another. Eventually in a state of either loneliness, horniness, boredom, or drunkenness, he will want to bang her.

At this point, I looked over and Angry Joyce was glaring at me with a look of sheer disgust. I told her that she could stop looking at me like a was a dog because it is just what every man would think, if he was honest. She said that was right; All men are dogs. She's most likely right, maybe I should buy her a couch.

A Simple Word Of Advice

If you ever hear your wife make the statement, " I was a raving bitch at work today", it might not be wise to say, " So, you finally took your show on the road."

Oh well, as I always say, live and learn. Although some lessons are more painful than others. Anyone know how to take dents out of cast iron skillets?

Come See The Softer Side Of Me

I guess Michael at Smoke and Mirrors wondered if I had a serious side. He asked me to stretch a bit and write a slice of life post. I wrote one that needs a crusty voice over by Wilford Brimley.

So yes, I have a serious side. It's just that it's a lot like the Red Hot Chili Pepper's members in concert, I keep a sock over it. So what are you waiting for? Click Here and check out ' The Pond'. While you are at it give Smoke and Mirrors a good read. He's got the skills and when he lets it rip, there's just no telling where he can take you.

Cinco De Geek

I wanted to join Sugdaddy and all of Vic's friends in congratulating Vic on the completion of her Masters degree. He has proclaimed May 5th as Cinco De Geek and I wholeheartedly endorse it. Words seem such a poor thing to use in describing my admiration for my incredible friend. She is a survivor that can take what life can dish out and not only survive but thrive. She is a beautiful person both outside and inside. And most of all she is a woman of warmth and humor that manages to put up with my offbeat (lack of) wit. I am truly blessed to count her as a friend. That and she has some of the best damn HNT's around.

I would like to encourage everyone to stop by Vic's place and wish her congratulations. While you are at it, stop by and read a bit of her blog. You won't be disappointed. I never am.

While my words are a poor thing indeed, I hope that it would be some consolation to Vic that my favorite HNT pic's that she has done is now one of my favorite pin ups on this blog.

(And the pin-up by Garv on the left of this post has always reminded me of Vic. I hope she doesn't mind sharing a little of the glory in being the pin up of this post.)

No Crime Just Punishment

The fifteen year old female that resides in my home screwed up and damn that makes me happy. She came in two hours after her curfew and I relish punishments. It is when some of those distasteful chores that I have to do around the house actually get done.

I came by this honestly. My father loved to catch me screwing up. He did not yell or curse but would only smile an evil little grin and put my ass to work. I worked on the farm every weekend but he would always save the shittiest chores for those times that I had either come home late or came home smelling like a brewery. Before the glow of false dawn, he would crank up Iron Butterfly's 'In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida.' To this day, when I hear that tune, I feel hung over and pissed off.

Today while I am puttering around, barbequeing and putting down a few cold brews, she will be busy de-junglefying the back yard, straightening up the carport, and the list is only as large as my imagination. And damn doesn't that Iron Butterfly sound sweet!!!

Simple Sam

Simple Sam had a mean little itch

And it was making his life one hell of a bitch.

He spent his days gouging and clawing

Thinking his days were soon to be drawing.

You see he had picked up a problem allergy

To his sweet little woman's sweet little coochie.

With normal sex his nether region went through hell,

But with oral it was worse when his face started to swell.

He tried Benydryl and Claritin D

He even tried several home remedies.

But nothing would cure that itching curse.

He could think of no ailment that could possibly be worse.

But the answer came to him in a bright flash of light.

He would broach the answer to his sweet little woman that night.

He told her his problem and the answer so clear.

Until his rash cleared up. Could he take her from the rear?

Texas Lil's

The sun always shines on the place down the road

And to get me to go you won't have to goad.

At Texas Lil's Bar and Grill, Tittie Flop, Tattoo Parlor, Day Spa, and Exotic Meats.

Every visit is a dream voyage sticky and sweet.

The day starts at noon with a Grilled Cheese

And a gentleman's club par excellance with just a slight touch of sleaze.

Then it's off for a tat, either a tribal arm band or a touching tramp stamp.

And to close it all out to the Sauna to get a little damp.

Then bring home a little wild turkey

Or possibly a little armadillo jerky.

The possibilities are endless at this place not like home

I wonder what could be said by that wandering gnome.

Unsung Heroes: #1. Amateur Porn Director

Here's to you, weird neighbor Phil down the block. Where would the world be without your dedication and diligence to the world of amateur perversion? Probably a thousand grainy video clips short in the old spam box.

Not many have the sheer stick-to-it, never say die, attitude, that makes you the freak that you are. When a starlet-to-be has that little accident on the anal scene, you are there with a clean towel and a kind word. When the mess is cleaned up and the lens dusted off, it's take two and full steam ahead. When the star of the shows get up and go gets up leaves, you are in your element. If that little blue pick me up doesn't get the job done, then by golly you damn sure can.

Oral, Anal, Girl on Girl, Guy on Girl, Bukake, BBW, S&M, Farm Animals Gone Bad; You can do it all. You are a true jack off of all porn trades. That's what makes you a great unsung hero.

So until Budweiser gets off their ass and makes you a star in their Real Men of Genius campaign, here's to you Amateur Porn Director, Blugstuff's first Unsung Hero.

( This post is dedicated to the lost but never forgotten blog, 'Accidental Goat Sodomy.')

Dreaming Of A White Easter

Once again the annual Easter cold snap has hit. Yesterday we received a large snowfall. Although most of the snow melted yesterday afternoon, this morning the sky opened up and light snows fell on a crisp Easter morn. At least people don't have to color eggs in order to hide them good in the snow. Happy Easter, y'all.

Unabashed Randomness

According to Peggy Post, an expert in manners, the tradition of pulling off your hat indoors started in the Old West. Cowboys would pull off their hats to prove that they were not hiding a weapon under them.

A short verse from the bawdy old folk tune, 'Rye Whiskey' : If the ocean were whiskey and I were a duck, I'd dive to the bottom and drink it all up. But the ocean's just water and I ain't no duck so I'll stay on dry land and just fuck...

Gus McCrae, from Lonesome Dove: A man who wouldn't cheat for a poke don't want one bad enough.

A country music title that could very well be about Sanjaya Malakar: 'I Would Rather Hear A Fat Girl Fart Than A Pretty Boy Sing.'

From Copenhagen Angel, by Chris LeDoux: She's got a plug in both her cheeks, She's got Copenhagen in her lips, She's got a roll your own between her teeth, and I've never even seen her spit.

Re-Run City

I seem to be enjoying a trip down memory lane this week so what the hell. Here is a re-posting of a story that I did on November 9, 2005. I am sure the aroma of the post hasn't changed a bit.


Campfire Cooking

This weekend while browsing in Target, I saw a handy dandy kitchen appliance; an electric tabletop barbeque grill from Crockpot, that can hold three racks of ribs. Although it is against my religion to call anything cooked indoors barbeque, this looked handy for those times when the West Texas wind is barreling across the plains or the occasional hard rain, although I have carted the pit under the car port in times of need. To prove my dedication, I have even barbeque during a tornado watch patiently watching my smoking pit as the neighbors scurried for the storm cellars. When the all clear signal went up, I was taking up my ribs as the heads of the neighbors peeked from the ground like a bunch of mullet headed snake charming gophers.

Living in Redneck America, the fine art of the barbeque is not only a prerequisite but an intuitive thing ingrained in the womb. I consider myself a fair hand at cooking anything that doesn't dodge bullet or bumper but I generally do not do much in the area of cooking in a dutch oven except for a cobbler or chili, but once I had a hand in producing one of the most dangerous pot of beans known to man.A group of friends and myself decided to have a kegger/cookout about 20 miles from civilization out in BFE. After the meal had been devoured and buckets of beer had been drank, the only two left standing were Charlie and myself.

We were both night owls with a renowned prowess in the drinking arena. When the first light of false dawn arrived, we felt the inevitable hunger pangs associated with any all night drinking binge. Upon searching the campsite, we discovered that the only foodstuffs were some dried out tortillas and about two pounds of beans left out by the fire.The crusted over beans more closely resembled a dried out creek bed than anything edible. Therefore we doctored it up by pouring in a generous amount of Budweiser from the keg and put the pot back on the fire. We also figured that anything that crusty had to have lost much of it's taste so we added a copious amount of salt. As the sun peaked over the horizon, the pot was bubbling with an eery intensity.

These beans were fantastical. Not only were they crazy tasty but they produced intestinal gas that is legendary to all the other campers/victims that arose to the stench wafting through the West Texas Plains. I have not ate any dish since that created in my digestive system such a lethal and toxic flatulence. The lasting power, volume, and stench of the malodorous emanations were an incredible once in a lifetime achievement. Beans anyone?

Back To The Beginning

When I first started blogging, besides the usual lame attempts at humor, I did weekly features of pin-ups. I would pick a theme and post pics. Sometimes I would tell a little tale and sometimes I simply posted a pin-up.

My very first theme was Cowgirl Week, so I will re-visit this theme to kick things off. This week I will be posting pics that I think covers my love of pin-up art and telling a few tales for good measure. Now to see if I can still do the daily post thing.

My first little tale of the week is a reposting of one of my faves. It is from October 12, 2005. I hope it has aged well.

Forklift Rodeo

For those individuals not familiar with the sport of Forklift Rodeo which is much like bullriding, I will give a few particulars regarding the rules and practice of the sport. First the forks of a large industrial forklift are driven into two stalks of 8" diameter polyethylene (plastic) pipe about 12' in length. Secondly, the contestant/victim straddles the two stalks of pipe close to the end of the stalks. Thirdly, a nylon strap approximately 14' in length is wound around the pipe much like a bullrope and is used to dally the hand the same as a bullrider. Then the forklift operator raises the forks so that the contestant/victim is about 3' off the concrete floor so that the contestant/victim will not bang the ground with his feet, revs the engine and pops the clutch. This procedure causes the pipe to bounce wildly and gives the contestant/victim one hell of a ride, that most of the time causes him to crash to the concrete floor.

The sport of forklift rodeo had been practiced for a while at the plant but the shift I was on perfected the sport. This was due to the makeup of the people on the shift. You have already been introduced to the supervisor, if you haven't just scroll down a couple of posts and read about him in Random Acts of Stupidity, there was also Bronco Billy, who was the supervisor's faithful yes-man, myself, and J. D. an ex professional bullrider; whose claim to fame was that in the mid-80's , he was the winner of the Hard Luck Award at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. You might have actually seen J.D. on television. The footage of his award winning performance has been on more than one clip show, I saw one entitled "Dangerous Games People Play". He made the full eight seconds but then got hung in the rope and was beat half to death. At times I wondered if he might have been stomped in the head a few too many times but I never doubted his courage. Every one of his stories ended up , 'And that is when I ended up at the hospital in (insert name of city here).

To give everyone a glimpse into the actual practice of the sport, I will relate a story of one event. We were training a new employee and the supervisor and Bronco Billy convinced the newbie to try out forklift rodeo. J. D. helped dally him down and I took up a spot close enough to the action to innocently spectate. After the newbie was strapped in the supervisor took his position as the forklift operator, reved up the engine to a deafening roar, and popped the clutch. On the first bounce, the newbie bounced 10' in the air and came crashing to the concrete floor. The supervisor and his faithful yes-man stared in horror at the prostrate body of the newbie wondering how they would get the supervisor's ass out of this crack. I was actually trying to keep a straight face after I saw that he wasn't dead, I can't help it for some perverse reason the pain of others amuses me. That is when J. D. walks over, turns his head and spits tobacco juice a polite distance from the newbies head, and says "Puss". I did manage to get mostly out of earshot before busting a gut.

( No Idiots were seriously injured or fired during forklift rodeo. And all names have been changed to protect the guilty.)

Pick That Skank

I have always loved game shows. From the smarmy Chuck Woolery with Lingo, to the scowling Simon Cowell of American Idol, I have seen them all. One of my new favorites is Identity with the incomparable Penn Jillette. The object of the game is to identify a group of strangers just by sight. They match up swimsuit models, pre-school teachers, missionaries, cops, criminals, and just about every describable occupation, hobby, and quirks.

As much as I love the show and knowing TVs penchant for creating spin-offs for even mildly popular shows. I have an idea for a great spin-off. 'Pick That Skank' would test contestants ability to pick various types of females from a line up. The first episode would include a nun, a transvestite, a Sunday school teacher, a prostitute, a stay at home mom, a dominatrix, a college student that has appeared on a 'Girls Gone Wild Video', a school lunch lady, a porn star, a virgin, a bag lady, and Hillary Clinton. Future episodes could feature cowgirls, strippers, college professors, romance writers, convenience store checkers, lingerie models, female boxers, Ann Coulter, and the list is endless.

With the ability of make up and costumes to change the look of the various 'identities', I am sure that it would make for some hard choices. The secret to the success of the show would fall not only by the quality of the various identities but by the genius or idiocy of the contestants. I can imagine the look of shock when a contestant chooses wrong and picks a Nun for a porn star. I could also sympathize with the poor sucker that incorrectly chooses a transvestite as Hillary Clinton.

A New Tradition

Maybe it's not traditional but one of my newest traditions is the yearly viewing of Leprechaun on the Sci-Fi channel. Like many horror movies it is nearly a complete waste of time. The only redeeming value to the movie is watching a young braless Jennifer Anniston prance around the TV screen.

As I have stated on previous occasions, I do believe that I suffer from Adult ADD. While watching the movie, I couldn't help but think of how Jen looked like a sweet girl next door type that no-one could help but fall in love with. That got me to thinking how she was dumped like an old throw rug when Brad Pitt got the hots for Angelina Jolie. This really got me wondering how many people would dump a sweet, good looking person for a oiled up hot crazed sexpot. This got me to thinking of an old girlfriend that I kicked to the curb because the rough sex just got too damned rough. She bit a damned chunk out of my chest that probably should have received stitches. This got me to thinking about how a humans bite is supposedly worse than any other animal's bite. This got me to thinking that the mosquito is the most dangerous beast due to it's transmission of malaria and other diseases. This got me to thinking of how a good friend of mine once drank only gin and tonics when drinking alcohol because he said that he was protecting himself from malaria due to the quinine in tonic water. This made me think of how the Three Stooges with their shooting tonic water, gouging, biting, hitting, kicking, slapping, and generally beating each other is one of the funniest damn things that I can watch. This made me realize that my wife and most women hate the Three Stooges but most of my male friends and most men laugh like hell at the stooges. This got me to wondering what else men and women find different in life.

Who would have ever thought that watching a bad horror movie from the early '90's would lead me to a philosophical discussion of the differences between the sexes? I guess I will go and revisit the old posts on Beauty v. The Beast.

In It To Win It

Maybe I bit off more than I can chew but I could not turn down Phat's offer of letting me enter his brackets contest. I am lousy at making brackets. For some reason the Cinderella teams that I pick turn into the ugly step-sister and the big name big time programs that I pick turn into big time losers. I suppose that I am either very unlucky or my pick talents are about equal to my on court talents. Either way, to see how badly I will be stomped just click over to Phat's place and show some love. It should be good for a few laughs at my expense. And what could be better than that?