Priorities

All of my life I’ve been hearing about how I need to get my priorities straight.
Heck I don’t even know what my priorities are, much how to straighten them out.

I decided that I would do some research and try to straighten them out, in the event they were found to be crooked.
I questioned my wife as to what priorities were, only to receive her ‘Good grief you’re about ignorant’ look.

After helping her get her eyes rolled back into the proper perspective, I decided it would probably be best to search elsewhere for the answer.

Walking out the door and deciding it was such a nice day I took a little drive, which caused me to pass right by the Over the Cliff Bar and Grill.
The Over the Cliff Bar and Grill  was so named because the special of the day was whatever fell from the cliff that hung out over the bar.

Inside, I was met by the bartender. A  tall wiry built fellow with several scars, tattoos and at least four teeth, his name was Lude,  I’m not sure if he was named that for the way he tries to pick up women or for his use of prescription medications, or maybe both.
The only woman in two states that could tolerate him for more than fifteen minutes sober or drunk was Lynette the barmaid, short order cook, waitress, part-time bouncer, and taxidermist, if things got to rough for Lude he would holler for her to take care of it.

There was many a time when I would walk in and see Lynette throwing a poor slob out with one hand while skinning a slightly flatter than usual possum with her other hand and teeth.
Lynette was the only person I knew who carried a recipe book with her to the zoo.

On two occasions I actually saw the softer side of Lynette. One was  when child had wrecked his bicycle in front of the bar.
“Splat!  A little tobaccy juice works wonders on scrapes like that, why my paw used to do that for us if’n a bobcat or something got a holt of us.” She would say raising her leg up so the kid could see the scars on her calf.

The other occasion was when a stranger informed her that she was the prettiest woman he’d seen in a while, which lasted right up until she found out he had just gotten out of prison, and the bar was his first stop.

As I found a decent barstool and sat down she walked up and slapped me on the back so hard my eyes bulged out about three inches from my face.

“Armadillo’s the special today.” She said with a grin.

“No thanks.” I replied, putting my eyes back into their respective sockets. “I just ate a few minutes ago.”

“Bet it wasn’t as good as my cooking.” She said.

Knowing when to avoid a confrontation is one thing betraying my wife’s cooking is another, I prepared myself for the lumps that were about to come, looked her dead in the eye and said. “Of course not, why you’re the best cook in the whole world.”

“Yep and you had all better remember that.” She said looking around the bar.

I learned never argue with any one that can skin an alligator, with a nail file while whistling.

“Well are ya just gonna set there with that stupid look on yer face or are ya gonna order something?” She asked.

“I’ll have a beer.” I said.

“You look like you’re in deep thought about something.” Lude said looking up from the magazine he was reading.

“Yeah I’m trying to get my priorities straight but I don’t seem to know what they are.”

“Priorities?  Boy that’s kinda deep.  Hey, Lynette what are priorities?” Lude responded.

“What the hell do I look like a damn dictionary?” She asked.

“Dang I haven’t seen her like this in a while, what’s she in such a good mood for?” I asked.

“Her sister that won the lottery is coming to visit and she’s supposed to be bringing her a big check. She’s been happy as a lark like that all day.”

“What was that thing she mentioned looking like?” I asked.

“Some kinda bird or something I suppose.” Lude responded.

“It’s a book ya idiots,” She yelled from behind a pile of animal skins. “Ya know the kind ya look words up and it tells ya what they mean. Aw hell, ya couldn’t spell priorities no how, it means stuff ya have to do by means of which is the most important.”

After a moment or two of deep thought, which culminated with my falling off the barstool, I realized that my first priority was to quit falling asleep on barstools.

After getting that one straight I decided to head for the house, and see what other priorities I could come up with.

After about fifteen minutes worth of thinking which as fate would have it, was the exact time that it took to get to the house from the bar, I decided that my first priority should be to clean out my tackle box.

As I studied my tackle box, I realized that I should make sure of which lures I used and which ones I didn’t. Wanting to be precise I decided to go fishing just as sort of a way to be sure of what to keep and what to discard into my other box. While making the long walk out to my truck I realized that I couldn’t go fishing without a fishing license, so I figured I would have to make a stop by the store on my way to the creek.

I cranked up my old Chevy fishing truck and drove slowly to the store upon arriving at the store I realized that my first priority should have been to fix the brakes on the old truck.  Luckily no damage was done to the telephone pole that I ran into while executing my emergency stopping procedure. By the time I had gotten into the store and had renewed my fishing license word had already gotten out about the phone pole, being a man of priorities I knew that I had to leave before the phone people got there.

Starting my old fishing truck I headed out for the creek after crossing two ditches, a backyard or two, and Old man Richardson’s concrete barrier fence, I arrived at the creek. As I winched my truck out of the creek I noticed the cable was a bit frayed so I thought that replacing it should be my first priority when I got home.

After an uneventful episode of fishing, I loaded up my gear and decided to head for home.  Upon my arrival I accidentally ran over the mailbox in front of our house. I wasn’t too worried about it since old man Richardson was having enough of a conniption about his fence and his nervous cattle that he wouldn’t notice his mailbox.

My wife looked at me as I walked through the door as if she were surprised to see me back alive again. She always looks that way when I drive my fishing truck.

“Where have you been?” she asked, in her usual I see I can’t collect on my insurance policy yet, tone of voice.

“I’ve been out getting my priorities straight.” I said.

Oh really!” She said with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Yep, and I’m going to start on them right away.”

“Well I hope one of them is fixing old man Richardson’s fence, where you ran through it a while ago.”

“Heck it aint like his cows ever come to this side of the pasture anymore.” I replied

“He does seem to have some weird cows.” She said sarcastically.

“Yes, yes he does” I agreed.

“Well I reckon while I’m fixing the fence I may as well replace his mail box too.”

“Why don’t you fix the brakes on that truck while you’re at it?” She asked.

To someone that doesn’t fish there is no comprehension of the true meaning of fishing trucks.

After fixing the mailbox, I walked over to the fence, it was actually a concrete barrier that for some reason only separated my property from the Richardson farm. Luckily the barrier had only been ran over and was knocked out of place by about thirty feet, so all I had to do was move it back in place, Unlike the last time when the barrier had disintegrated upon collision with the front of my fishing truck.

Old Man Richardson came strolling across his pasture just as I was finishing up with his fence.

I could tell just by the look on his face that his religion was wearing a might thin.

Why don’t you fix them brakes on that truck?” He asked. “And quit running over everything in God’s creation.”

“Well that is one of my priorities.” I said, I didn’t tell him I just couldn’t remember which one.

“My cows is so shook up they only give cheese these days.” He informed me.

“Great, I’ll take five pounds of cheddar.” I said trying to lighten the moment.

I would never have thought that a ninety-eight year old man with emphysema could run that fast for that long. After about a quarter of a mile he dropped the pry bar he was chasing me with, and after about another quarter mile he stopped running. Judging from the language he used, I think he dropped his religion right after the cheese remark.

After fixing the fence and the mailbox and helping get Mr. Richardson into the ambulance, which wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Boy that old feller sure puts up a fight when we try to get that straight jacket on him.
I guess he’s to that age when he goes out of his head farely regularly.
Talking bout flying trucks, anti aircraft guns, and neighbors from hell.
He also said something about wanting to skin you alive.”  Said one of the paramedics.

“He sure is a strange bird.” Said the other.

“He goes into these little tirades every now and then.” I said.

“Yeah we see he has a history of nervous breakdowns.” The first paramedic said. “You believe he told us his cows were giving cheese instead of milk.”

“Heh heh heh,” I laughed. “Everybody knows you have to make the cheese from milk, I think he just needs to get his priorities straight.”

I think I’ll make fixing the brakes on that fishing truck my first priority, right after I finish my nap.

The AR15 or Clones There Of.

Okay to start with AR15 is copyrighted by Colt and therefore all the other rifles that appear the same are usually called A 15s or something of that nature, unless it is a Colt.
These rifles were built by Armalite in 1957 and the select fire (semi auto/ full auto) were introduced to our troops under the name M-16 A-1 Like the one pictured below.

AR 15 was the actual semi automatic that was introduced for civilian use.

The first one I was introduced to was like the one pictured. Although in my opinion extremely accurate for what it was, I found out they had to be kept clean in order to make it reliable.
As a lot of our troops found out in Viet Nam the conditions over there and the tolerances (tightness of all moving parts) in these rifles caused quite a few malfunctions.

ar15 (8)Armalite sold the design to Colt who continues to make the AR-15 to this day. After the problems with the first run of these the tolerances were loosened a little and the rifle became more reliable and since our government is also in the business of arming not only our allies but some of our enemies as well, the M 16 variant of the AR 15 is one of the most widely used weapons in the world. Second only to the AK-47.

The semi auto variant became popular with law enforcement, collectors and target shooters and because of their size and weight they also make a pretty good home defense weapon.

ar15 (2)Now days they are getting a bad rap from liberal politicians and media personalities that know absolutely nothing about them. Because some mentally ill bastards decided to use these rifles for their three weeks of fame.

I actually heard one liberal politician screaming “You don’t need an armor piercing round for deer hunting, you don’t need a 50 round magazine for deer hunting.”

What the stupid jerk doesn’t realize is that the round these things fire is not a very good round for deer hunting at all. Not only that but the rifle that I use for deer hunting will do a lot more damage to anything than one of these things will.
The 223 or 5.56 round that most of these rifles are chambered for was ideal for hunting small game like beavers, prairie dogs, muskrats and such.
The U.S. Military adopted it for the simple fact that in most cases the bullet is just strong enough to penetrate the human body at the point of impact but not strong enough to go completely through. The bullet tumbles around inside the body and does more damage that way. Kind of like a 22 rifle bullet would.
But these rifles look scary to libs, well all guns look scary to libs, except when they need protection.

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It was interesting how during the L.A. Riots several years ago how the very people that were so anti gun ran to the offices of Guns & Ammo magazine because they knew the people there were armed and they would have some protection.

Anti gun people don’t seem to realize that a criminal is not going to abide by their laws and declaring an area a gun free zone is the same as sending out an invitation to criminals telling them that they will not face any opposition to their actions.

I have owned in the past, several weapons that were classified as assault weapons by the liberals and the funny thing about all of them is that not once did any try to escape so they could wreak havoc upon the world. Although by loading them and shooting them I did wreak havoc upon some milk jugs, soda cans, a watermelon, a pumpkin and a bowling ball.

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The AR 15 is one of the most customized rifles now in existence, with plenty of optional equipment you can purchase.
Some folks will try to tell you that you do not need these type of weapons, but here is the real deal folks. When the government fears the people you have democracy, when the people fear the government you have tyranny.
The second amendment was put into the constitution to make sure that all Americans were able to be armed at all times, not for hunting, target shooting, or in the event of a zombie apocalypse. The second amendment was put in their so that in the event the government became tyrannical we the people would have the tools to fight back.
ar15 (1)That being said, any responsible gun owner will tell you that care must be taken with all weapons, they should be kept in a safe place so that criminals cannot easily get them.
I keep mine locked in a safe when they are not on their way to the range with me.

It’s sad that we live in a society that has become so civilized that we cannot properly deal with the criminal element instead we choose to punish the innocent.

I’m not going to tell you that you should rush out and by an AR-15 or any of the clones of such, that is your choice. I’m not going to tell you that you should own a firearm of any type, that is your choice. I will tell you that with the types of crimes we have going on now that if you choose not to get yourself trained with a firearm you might want to move real close to a police station.
When you are on the phone with the 911 operator they may or may not be able to have a car arrive at your home in time to save you or your family.

Of course if someone did try to invade my home chances are the would suffer greater harm from tripping over some of my sons toys than they would from me shooting them, but they would learn a valuable lesson. Legos hurt when you step on them.

Times are getting tough, people are getting desperate and it is only going to get worse, you can choose to be defenseless if you want to but I choose not to.

I pray every day and every night that I never have to hurt anyone, but if my family was in danger don’t think for one second that I wouldn’t.

And They Want To Take Our Guns…

So just reading through the news today I see the same old tired crap from obama, and his gun grabbing u.n. loving pals feinstein, pilosi, schumer and reid.
This usual group of idiots and a bunch of other uninformed anti gun people are wanting to pass tougher bans or ban altogether firearms owned by private citizens.
One claim is that we don’t need “these” weapons, in relation to their definition of assault weapons.

Another thing I heard was “Why do we need guns in civilized society?”

What these idiots do not realize is that the only reason society remains any sort of civilized is because of the majority of gun owners. You know them, the ones that would not go out of their way to harm a fly, but would not hesitate to send you to your maker if you attempted to harm them or their families.

The second amendment to the constitution was written to ensure that Americans would remain armed in the event the government tried to seize too much power.
Why do you think the big time tax and spend government and liberals are so afraid of an armed populace?

Interesting how this rash of shootings is suddenly happening now that we have a gun grabber that was elected to a second term so that he does not have to answer to anyone for anything.

Now as far as the civilized society part….. What in the world makes anyone think we are living in a civilized society?
During the clinton years personal responsibility was shredded. No one was responsible for their actions.
Remember it takes a village to raise a child? Hillary Clinton’s book that was meant to erode parental responsibility.
That was just the beginning.
Then the “Me” lifestyle took hold.  You know the “To hell with everyone else, I’m going to do what is good for me”, because I can pass the buck to someone else for it if it all goes wrong.
Then bush came along and used the events of September 11, 2001 to push the patriot act and homeland security on us all. Making us all safer by strip searching children and little old ladies in airports while ignoring other people because profiling is wrong.

Now government sponsored shootings are becoming commonplace, if you don’t think the government is behind some of this stuff you are living in a dreamworld, so they can push a gun grabbing agenda on us.

The problem is not guns it’s evil people walking this earth, untouchable or ignored by the police.

Here are some links to a few of the stories I read and watched today talking about how civilized our country is.

Florida Woman Allegedly Stabs Man For Making Fun Of Her Boyfriend

‘Mumbling woman’ pushes man to his death in front of NYC subway train

New York woman arrested in connection with murder of 2 firefighters

Wisconsin Man Beats Woman Over Christmas Gift

Cop’s Gun Fires Twice In Restroom Stall

Stalking suspect dead after overpowering arresting officer, taking gun, wounding 3

Police: Pa. man intentionally crashed at about 100 mph, then sat on girlfriend to kill her

Firing Leads to a Deadly Confrontation in New York

Parents say Idaho man walked into classroom and put boy in chokehold

Woman Sentenced to Life for Carving out Fetus

Body of missing girl found in empty Las Vegas lot

Police say attack on woman set ablaze as she lay on LA bus bench ‘defies explanation’

Yep real civilized.

We live in a time when unemployment is the highest it has ever been.
Police budgets are getting cut.
The government is out of control.
Prices are going up while wages are not, at least the normal working man or woman’s wages aren’t , politicians just got a wage increase.

People are getting desperate and more and more of the children that were drugged in 90’s and early part of this century are growing up with undiagnosed mental illnesses.
Home invasions are happening in places where they never happened before.
Violent crimes are on the rise.
I personally am tired of seeing our government and liberal justice system issue the death penalty for innocent civilians by letting murderers, rapist, and drug dealers out of prison.
We execute thousands of innocent children in this country every year, yet it’s “morally wrong” to execute a murderer, or drug dealer or rapist, or pedophile.
Yeah they want to take our guns.

The Greatest Football Coach of All Time

Before there was Joe Paterno, before there was Bobby Bowden, before there was Paul Bryant,  but after there was Alonzo Stagg, there was Woodrow Gribs.

Woodrow Gribs, born in Mudslip Mississippi  in 1907 and coached until his untimely death in 1968 at the age of 43.

Mississippi, Bring Jumper Cables Get In For Free!

Woodrow Gribs was a master of defense, special teams, rerouting math and making whiskey.

His first coaching job was the 1931 Mudslip Mud Puppies PeeWee Football Team, Gribs compiled a 35 and 0 record during his time of coaching them. His Mud Puppy defense never gave up a point and in nine games his defense never allowed the other team to cross their own 35 yard line. Team captain Orson “Rocco” McFeely would say playing for Coach Gribs was his dream come true.

As word began to spread about the PeeWee Mud Puppies, offers for other coaching jobs came his way.

In 1932, a young college dean Frank Moorbeer, of Creaky Mountain State Community College offered a head coaching position to Woodrow Gribs, Even though Creaky Mountain State did not have a football team.

When asked why he went to Woodrow Gribs, Mr Moorbeer would explain; “We’s on a limited budget and a coach what makes his own whiskey would sure save us a hell of a lot of money.”

Moorbeer, Gribs, Whiskey still

Although Woodrow Gribs did not have a formal education, having retired from schooling at the age of ten, to pursue his dream of becoming the master brewer at Slim Watkins whiskey still, he accepted the position.
To meet the education requirements Coach Gribs would attend class in the mornings to earn his degree and would assemble a coaching staff and football team after school.
It was hard work but Coach Gribs accomplished it all in less than two weeks.
When trying to choose a mascot, Coach Gribs told the student body; “We going to have a team what is tougher than a hogs nuts.”
Thus the Oysters of Creaky Mountain were born.

creaky mountain state

During his first season as head coach, Coach Gribs suffered his first defeat from the University of Waffle Falls (also known as Waffle U), a 3-0 shocker. He would later say that they cheated by putting lard on the ball before every kickoff causing his return men to fumble. It would be one of 4 losses in his collegiate career and the only time they would lose to the hated Waffle U.

The 1932 squad would however end the season with a 6 and 1 record with 4 of his opponents being shut out.

foozball

His 1933 team fared much better with a perfect 8-0 record, shutting out three opponents and allowing only one team to score more than 3 points. One of the shut outs was a revenge match against the hated Waffle U, when Gribs and the Creaky Mountain Oysters stunned them with a 76 – 0 beatdown, causing the head coach of Waffle Falls to leap from a cliff midway through the third quarter.
When asked why he refused to end the game at half time when the score was 38 – 0, Coach Gribs said “They greased us last year, so we’re going to fry their asses this year.”

Coach Gribs would shock the world however when his 1966 team would compile a 14-0 record in only 9 games.

During the 1967 season,  the NCAA came calling with a list of complaints;
Complaint number one was that one player, particularly previous team captain, Otis “Rocco” Muldoon, had played four previous years as Orvis “Rocco” Mahoney, and the four years before that as Orville “Rocco” Macdabney.
A complaint which was vehemently denied by Coach Gribs and current team captain, Opie “Rocco ” Muldowney.

It was also brought up by the NCAA that the 1966 team only played 9 games but yet had a 14-0 record.
Gribs shrugged that complaint off by simply stating  “The ass whupping we gave some of them boys was so bad them record keepers thought they got whupped twice.”

tough game

The investigation began to fizzle when two of the NCAA investigators were caught in photographs taking money from a Waffle Falls booster.

Two other NCAA investigators would be caught in compromising positions, one with a Thai hooker and the other with a goat.

A Goat

Although cleared of any wrong doings, the investigation took it’s toll on Creaky Mountain State and on Coach Gribs, whose 1967 team would have a mediocre season with 11 wins and 0 losses but they allowed all of their opponents to score at least 3 points.

Before the 1968 team could take the field, strong rains washed Creaky Mountain University, Coach Gribs and his moonshine still, off the side of the mountain, killing Coach  Gribs and causing injury, harm and heartbreak to several other people and a small farming community at the foot of the mountain.
During the funeral services one mourner would say ” I don’t know much about football, but that there Gribs feller sure made some good whiskey.”

No More Shine

Creaky Mountain State would never be rebuilt and the Creaky Mountain Oysters would never play another game. Compiling one of the greatest records in all of college football with  354 wins and just 4 losses all of which are debatable. Defeating their hated rival Waffle Falls University 36 of 37 times. Along with those wins came 26 Division IIIa-1/2 National Championships.

When former Waffle Falls Chancellor, James Stickinbutt, became head of the NCAA, they would re-open the investigation of Creaky Mountain U and without anyone being able to defend themselves and all the records having been destroyed in the avalanche and whiskey still explosion, the entire history of the Creaky Mountain Oysters would be stricken from the record books.

smirking jackass
A victory for Waffle Falls University and Stickenbutt, that would be short lived.
Waffle Falls University would itself fall victim to nature when the school would be shut down due to almost the whole student body being attacked and bitten by a migrating, ravaging, hoard of angry rabid weasels.

Shortly after televising the NCAA event in which he ceremoniously removed Creaky Mountain from the annals of football history, James Stickenbutt was ironically found dead in Mudslip Mississippi, the hometown of Coach Gribs.
He had apparently been shot 27 times, stabbed another 190 times, his throat was cut and when he was found his body had been chained to concrete blocks and tossed off a bridge.
Sheriff Orwell “Rocco” McCarney would go on record as saying “Worst damn case of suicide I ever saw.”

Woodrow Gribs, maybe?
The statue of Coach Woodrow Gribs and his whiskey still can be found in the town square of Mudslip Mississippi, if you can just find Mudslip Mississippi.

So I am the worst deer hunter in the world

313057-main_FullI get sick of hearing people talk about hunters, saying that we kill those poor defenseless animals.
That they don’t have a chance against us because we have a gun and they don’t.
Defenseless animals my big hairy butt.

When you walk into the woods the animals hear you, if the wind blows they smell you, if you blink and eye they see you. 
They are far stronger than you are and their natural instincts are a thousand time better than yours.

Have you ever tried to free a defenseless wild rabbit from getting tangled in a fence? Those cute little fluffy bunnies will tear your butt up. I’m not talking Monty Python or anything, I’m talking those suckers will scratch and bite the ever loving blue eyed hell out of you.

Try catching a wild squirrel and see how long it takes for you to get that thing off you when it goes berserk.

Any way, this is how defenseless deer are when you are hunting them, or at least when I am hunting them. You talk about them not having a chance. Ha!

When I go hunting, they know it’s me. They know how good my shooting skills are. They know what kind of master of camouflage I am.
So much so that when I walk into a field they usually have a deer conga line formed and are dancing and singing and carrying on.

Yeah they are defenseless alright. 

As if walking out in front of me holding up targets and giggling uncontrollably isn’t bad enough, when I look through the scope at them they will stick out their tongues or in one’s case actually moon me.

God forbid I fall asleep in the shooting house. There has been more than one time when I woke up to find my boot laces tied together and nothing but deer tracks all around me. Once they took my camera and took some obscene pictures of themselves and their actions with my toothbrush (how they got that I will never know, but after looking at the pictures I now keep all my hygienic supplies safely locked away.

I did however kill one one day. Of course he was trying to eat my rifle when it went off and put an end to his hi-jinx.
Of course he may have just been trying to commit suicide, I guess we will never know.

Yep defenseless my foot. 
Try telling that to someone who has ran into one of those helpless critters on the highway and have at the least had to shell out a few grand for auto repairs.

 

 133_running_deer_lg

The Night Before Christmas

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Twas the night before Christmas and all through the rooms,
not a creature was stirring, we were all out of spoons

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The children were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.

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The baby was nestled all snug in her bed,
while roaches and spiders crawled over her head

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I wore pajamas and my old lady a gown,
as we both crawled in bed about to get down

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When out on the lawn arose such a clatter,
I leapt from the loft and fell down the ladder

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Away to the window I flew like the Flash,
tore apart the shutters and threw up on the sash

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As I stuck out my neck and looked at my shed,
down came the window on top of my head

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When what to my bulging eyes should I see,
but a man on a sleigh running into a tree

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The plump little driver so clumsy and slow,
yelled to his reindeer, ‘Dammit let’s go’

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More faster than turtles his reindeer they came,
as he screamed and he shouted and called them bad names

164449Reindeer

On Dasher, on Dancer, on Donder and Blitzen,
on Comet, on Ajax, on Agnew and Nixon

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To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall,
now dash away, crash away, smash away all

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The prancing and pawing of each tiny hoof,
could clearly be heard as they all peed on my roof

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As I pulled in my head and was turning around,
head first came Saint Nick as he crashed to the ground

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He was covered in ashes from his hat to his shoes,
and gagging and wheezing and smelling like booze

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Though his bag was filled with brand new toys,
he took all we had and made not a noise

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In his bag was a hatchet I hoped was for me,
but before I could stop him, he chopped down our tree

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Then laying his finger aside of his nose,
a bright yellow mucous from his nostrils he blows

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Then away through the door, he screamed as he sped,
‘Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead’

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Crimson Tide Fatheads.

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What Is The Value Of A Human Life.

Our recent member of the ARBAA (American Redneck Brotherhood Association of America) Prof  Smithers Snodley (Phd. MA. MD. PIOA “Okay the PIOA stands for pain in our asses”) asked at our last meeting “What is the value of a human life?”

Now granted when this clown stated in his application, under favorite beer, that he preferred a nice Pinot Noir, we should have known better than to accept him into our fold.
But hey, we are a club of inclusion, not exclusion, just ask Dave and his “wife” Elliot.

“What is the value of a human life?” he asked again. “I’ll tell you what it is.” He said with a sip of his wine. (Yeah he sips wine, from a glass, one of them spindly little glasses that have that long glass part between the part you actually drink from and the bottom of the glass, got one of them there cork screw things too.)

“The value of a human life is an idea.” Snodley said looking around the room.
“The idea that you have political differences, religious differences, status differences, the idea that you are willing to kill to take from someone else, the idea that your country needs to invade another country, the idea that your religion is worth killing others for.” He paused long enough to take a sip from his glass and then continued on. “Thousands of people die each year, not for money, but for an idea. Yes my brethren the value of a human life is simply an idea.” 

After Snodley finally shut up, we sat there in silence for a few minutes looking at each other and wishing to hell that Floyd hadn’t of thought the black ball was a licorice jelly bean.

Finally Ray spoke up and said. “The value of a human life is somewheres upwards of thirty eight cents.”
“How do you figure that?” Snodley asked. 

“Didn’t they teach you math at that Ivory league university you attended?” Ray asked.

“Math? How pray tell does math figure in to the value of a human life.” Snodley asked.

“Well, figure it this way, a box of twenty forty caliber shells cost me  seven dollars and sixty cents.”

“What does that have to do with my original question?” Snodley asked, rolling his eyes.

Well you figure seven dollars and sixty cents works out to 38 cents apiece and when some idiot gets the idea that he is going to break into my home and do me harm, he is going to be greeted by upwards of 38 cents.” 

“What does that have to do with philosophy?” Snodley asked wide eyed. 

“The barrel of a gun has caused many a man to change his religion one way or another.” Floyd chimed in.

I don’t think ol Professor Snodley will return to any more ARBAA meetings, and if we ever figure out what uncouth louts are he might not want to.