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Date: 12/10/2020 11:20:00 PM
From Authorid: 5940
I must say between the “free delivery “ program and Creepz-Away you’ll never have a Porch Pirate problem again! And how can you go wrong with the Malt Liquor of the Month? That’s sure to help you have a stress free holiday. South American Hay? Must be a new vendor discovery thanks to the fleet of Ford Trimotor aircraft. The weather must have been cooperating eh? Oh, and ask about the discreet package shipping program when you are in need of Pampers but are too embarrassed to admit it......  |
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Date: 12/10/2020 11:47:00 PM ( From Author )
From Authorid: 5301
...I'm going to have to trademark the "Creepz-Away" brand. It could be a gold mine. All Pampers come in plain brown wrappers. Nani was glad to join in too.  |
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Date: 12/11/2020 3:41:00 AM
From Authorid: 5940
Sweet Sue Chicken in a can, now there’s a meal for those with an iron constitution, isn’t there a prize inside every can? The escape proof crib can be used for fur babies as well. Why at the factory they test each crib with a pregnant sleep deprived badger to make sure it meets exacting demands. Call now! Operators are standing by to take your order! |
Date: 12/11/2020 6:57:00 AM
From Authorid: 48531
We love Christmas in the Oswald household.   |
Date: 12/11/2020 8:23:00 AM
From Authorid: 10722
No family visiting this year so I call that a blessing.   |
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Date: 12/11/2020 11:39:00 AM
From Authorid: 21435
Hekler Ahhh, yes; "`Tis the season, indeed." I actually like Christmas. Among "my people," that holiday usually translates into two caldrons of gumbo, (one seafood and one chicken sausage) simmering over hardwood fires, out on someone's back forty. (Don't want to disturb the neighbors drunken, `cause sometimes, they shoot back.) Personally, I am not into exchanging gifts. I mean, I already have "feet pajamas," fireball gives me gas, I'm `bout past the time when I worry about any trojans and my cousin's fruitcake tastes like something that the dog just treed. That being said, I may have to get hold of "Crazy Larry" and buy something, just so I can get two of those commemorative coins. Thing is, I have no real use for Trump, or Putin. In fact, if I could get Kamala and Nancy, I'd probably spring for two units of the "Creepz Away." My "talking dog" wants a "canned whole chicken," and even though he nearly bankrupted the house with his careless attack on the trespassing "frizzle," I can't stay angry at the little mugger, for very long. In closing: If I don't read you again, before the holiday. I wish you the best. PS---Would you consider splitting a bag of the "South American?" I'm pretty sure that the market price is more than I can afford and after all the excitement of the holiday, I think that I might just like to have myself a small toddy, and hit the hay....feliz navidad  |
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Date: 12/11/2020 1:10:00 PM ( From Author )
From Authorid: 5301
...Hey Larry...I'm sorry to say that there is no prize in every can of the canned chicken. However, there is a SURPRISE! Yes, you'll be surprised that the people that sell this "thing" can actually get away with calling it a chicken. I had the misfortune of opening one of these many a year ago and what slurped out of the can was a gelatinous mush that quickly disintegrated upon hitting a bowl. It looked like a sickly yellow baby version of "The Blob" movie of our youth. If you are a really brave person, you can see a video of this monstrosity being opened. There are a couple online. Keep a pail handy nearby for... whatever. |
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Date: 12/11/2020 1:42:00 PM ( From Author )
From Authorid: 5301
,...Paul Revere...I used to think Christmas was something magical until it became nothing less than a reason by mega-conglomerates to push schlock onto and into the homes of people that could hardly afford the additional expenses. Toys that a kid would toss into a corner after fifteen minutes because they were no fun at all but the TV ads made them look like they were the most AWESOME of plastic inventions. I still like Christmas if only for the looks of awe on the faces of small children. That's my gift. Wishing you and your loved ones a Merry and safe Christmas. Enjoy! |
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Date: 12/11/2020 1:50:00 PM ( From Author )
From Authorid: 5301
...Anomaly X...We all used to get together every year but as we got older and the families expanded and aged we found less time for each other as siblings and needed more time together as "the family unit" with our own kids. This year, against my express wishes, we will be having one visitor: a "sorta family" friendless spinster that usually appears at every holiday gathering even if she has to invite herself. I have been blessed in that this year she will be coming over on Christmas Eve and won't be here long enough to start a really good battle. I hope she brushes the mat of cat fur off her clothing before she leaves her apartment. |
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Date: 12/11/2020 2:17:00 PM ( From Author )
From Authorid: 5301
...there you are Kronk. Please forgive me for this but when you speak of "my people" I get this vision in my head of your ancestors stalking, capturing and cooking a missionary. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt here and attempt to wipe that suspicion from my mind. When people ask me what I want for Christmas, I reply"nothing". I really don't NEED anything. Sure, socks are always handy to have but I already have a lifetime supply of STUFF that I'm trying to find a good home for as I get older. I'm not a big fan of the Fireball whiskey either. It reminds me of a mouthful of those cinnamon heart candies that you let dissolve in your saliva and swallowed the "juice". Ugh! Fruitcake? I think I'll take a pass on that too unless it's dripping with rum and I can wring it out. The Trump and Putin commemorative coins are very handy things to have around. Do you have a table or chair with one short leg? Glue one of these little gems to the bottom of the leg and it's a perfect fix. They have no real value otherwise. Put them on a fence and shoot at them if you are looking for a more challenging target than empty cans bottles or watermelons. I'd warn your dog off the canned chicken. The only reason it's for sale is because Crazy Larry got a great deal on a shipping container full of them that "fell off the truck". Still, I have seen some of the disgusting things that dogs will eat so this seems right up their alley. I feel like a criminal these days when I wish people "Merry Christmas". It's not politically correct and I'm forever expecting some radical group of enraged fundamentalists to use a battering ram on the door and drag me away in my jockey shorts. I'll play the odds and still wish you and yours the best for the holidays. Please be kind to missionaries. |
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Date: 12/11/2020 6:29:00 PM
From Authorid: 5940
It’s amazing how far the Food & Drug administration has come along. Why there are many nutritional items one can purchase at a dollar store these days. It’s nice to know that taxpayer dollars are used to promote the children obesity campaign that prevents the disease that only food stamps can buy.... |
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Date: 12/11/2020 6:36:00 PM
From Authorid: 5940
Kronk, meet me at the juke joint, after hours, behind the chicken wire fence, past the railroad tracks, down by the stream, turn left and follow the yellow brick road. Wait by the abandoned out house featuring a yellow moon, before long a figure will appear with an out stretched hand. Give your money and speak aloud the items you wish to procure. Your package is on it’s way, but due to the COVID-19 resurgence it may be some time before it arrives. Thank you ahead of time for your patronage. |
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Date: 12/12/2020 3:39:00 PM
From Authorid: 21435
Hekler Maybe the odd Spaniard, but nothing "much" in the last four hundred years. Your comment brings to mind my grand uncle, "Amilcar Jaunice Ajouan Xenon," (Ajax, for short.) Uncle Ajax is an especially reclusive member of the clan. In fact, hardly anyone under the age of fifty seven years has ever even seen him. There are those of "my people" who maintain that Uncle Ajax is in the neighborhood of three hundred and sixty seven years old. I certainly cannot attest to the validity of such a statement. All I know is that he was here when I built the first house on the bayou. That would have been about 1697 A.D. What? Anyway.... Uncle Ajax had very little patience with other living things wandering onto his "space." I remember a "snake oil" salesman, from Tulum, who got on his wrong side, one summer. I believe said salesman was making goo goo eyes at an Atakapa Indian maidan, named "Running Moon." Uncle Ajax had taken Running Moon under his wing, after the girls parents had been "taken" by a pair of fourteen foot american alligators that terrorized the area for sixteen minutes total solar eclipse of 1701. Ajax leaned on a wandering Tonkawa, who swore that he saw the salesman make for the "poison sumac bottom country" with the girl. Uncle Ajax, immediately got a hold of his mistress, who owned a pack of thirteen "trash talking dogs." (Uncle Ajax was horribly allergic to sumac and could not venture into the bottoms.) So, "they" set the "trash talking dogs" on the scent, (they also sent a talking horse, because Running Moon was plagued with flat feet) built a fire, drank muscadine wine and waited. The dogs were trained to track, encircle and then run the prey back towards home base. Which, of course, they did and I want to tell you that is something that I will never forget, if I live to be seven hundred and sixty three. Yes, imagine if you will:; The great Opelousa stallion bearing the indian girl, trotting into camp. (I believe they were chatting about the price of "hay" in South America. I could be wrong though. That was some years ago) Then, in the distance, we heard the sound of the pack "pushing" the snake oil salesman ahead of them. Oh, the insults and threats of violence that pack of "trash talking dogs" laid upon the unlucky salesman. I can't continue...It's just too horrible. baba ghanoush |
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Date: 12/12/2020 4:18:00 PM
From Authorid: 21435
Hey Larry I think that I have been to that "juke joint," before. Back in the day, I believe it was called "Marshal Dillon's." On the old home place, we used an outhouse, until 1969. My father always maintained that indoor plumbing was a luxury that we could do without. Mother, and the rest of us, too, begged and pleaded, but the old man wouldn't budge. He considered toilet paper to be just as frivolous and brought home "used" graph paper, from the flow metering stations, where he worked. I still remember the kids making fun of me, when we showered, after P.E. It took me three years to finally figure out why they kept calling me "blue boy." Anyway....Our outhouse had the cutout of a sickle moon on the front, above the door and I can still see (like it was yesterday) the yellow light radiating out from the cutout. It mas the old miser, sitting in there, taking care of business and counting all the gold he saved. (from not buying toilet paper.) You can imagine my shock, when I got home from school, one afternoon, to see the orange panel truck that belonged to "B. Well; Master Plumber, parked in our drive way. It seems that my father was doing his business and one of the largest, ever recorded, brown recluse spiders, ever seen in the gulf south, nailed him on the left butt cheek. I'm really ashamed to admit it, but after I found out that my dad was going to be OK, my first thought was that we might finally have money to buy "real" toilet paper. It was not meant to be, however, as he informed the family that any extra cash would be diverted to enlisting the services of a very expensive plastic surgeon, to replace the 2" X 2" section of flesh, in the area of said spider bite. "They" kept calling me "blue boy" for another two years.  |
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Date: 12/12/2020 4:37:00 PM ( From Author )
From Authorid: 5301
...Kronk...you should write an unauthorized history of the U.S. gulf coast as witnessed by yourself and your ancestors. Just imagine, that talking horse probably sired the horses that would eventually bring Mr. Ed into being. It would also be preferable reading to Hey Larry's "Big Book of Rustled Chicken Recipes". When you were a kid and being called "Blue Boy", did you ever look at Gainsborough's painting to see if you bore any resemblance? |
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Date: 12/13/2020 11:35:00 AM
From Authorid: 21435
Hekler I really do appreciate the faith you put in my ability to document a history of the south coast and "my people." Actually, I've thought about doing that very thing, several times, but always thought better of it. (I should explain The "clan" totem of "my people" is Urosaurus ornatus. (the ornate tree lizard; common to the American Southwest and Northwestern Mexico) I'm confident that you, being from the "Great White North," are familiar with the word "totem, but, for the benefit "others" who are not, I include a definition. TOTEM: an object (such as an animal or plant) serving as the emblem of a family or clan and often as a reminder of its ancestry of. So, we've got that going for us. Of course, it didn't take my ancestors long to figure out that it took more than a lizard looking out for you, to actually survive. I mean, we're talking dire "talking wolves" and saber toothed lions, in those days. Not to mention, wandering into quicksand, or getting stuck in a tar pit. In short, in their infinite wisdom, the ancient "my people," came up with the concept of "insurance." (That's right. I bet you never knew that, did you?....neither did I, until this very minute) But, anyway.... When a baby was born to a woman of the clan, besides being covered under the "ornate tree lizard" clause, the new mother (with input from the father, also, if he happened to be around) was permitted to assign a "spirit animal," to help protect the child on it's journey through life. When I was born, my parents (yep, dad came back) chose the cat, to be my spirit animal. When I got old enough to know anything, I realized what a wise choice they made. My totem was non specific, which is great, `cause there are a heck of a lot of cats in the world. So, I pretty much "strode with confidence," knowing that the ornate tree lizards and the cats of the world "had my back." Yes, things rocked along, just fine, for the first two hundred and fifty years. I made a name for myself, in certain circles, mostly due my reckless abandon and pseudo heroic accomplishments. But alas, nothing remains the same. I began to notice that I had to be considerably more attuned to my environment, as the years went by, in order to stay healthy. This confused me, I mean, the world was full of ornate tree lizards and cats, wasn't it? Turns out, I learned, the world is no longer loaded with ornate tree lizards and cats. Deforestation has drastically reduced the numbers of ornate tree lizards. I mean you can't have tree lizards, without trees, right and while there are still bunches of house cats moving around the planet, the number of "great cats" is becoming dangerously low, due to wilderness repurposing and trophy hunting. What it amounts to is: No longer could I roam the planet, kicking butt and taking names, knowing without a doubt that my "totems" would protect me. So, I retired and began selling the "trade secrets" of "my people." I've already managed to survive sixty two assassination attempts (by disgruntled members of the clan) and I'm getting sick of the upkeep required to house my ninety three cats....I wonder if Larry could unload a few of my cats? Thirty nine cents a head, plus shipping & handling, and they're his.....sees senere |
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Date: 12/13/2020 9:38:00 PM ( From Author )
From Authorid: 5301
...Kronk. You do seem to have a guardian angel even with the diminished populations of ornate tree lizards and wild cats. From what I gathered from your account, your father was one of the few men that came back after "going to the store for a pack of smokes". Then again, he may have been hoarding huge quantities of that used graph paper and didn't want to leave it all behind. Now, I could get into a big debate with you about the ornate tree lizard having evolved into the ornate cinder block lizard but I am well aware that not all U.S. citizens are willing to accept Darwinism over Creationism. As for the cats, they just moved on to easier pickings. Getting back to your streak of good fortune in avoiding those many attempts on your life leads me to believe that the distilling of spirits may still be a thing that local law enforcement turns a blind eye to (or they've gone blind from drinking it) and may also be the root of your luck. If those stills were to be broken down, the operators might begin to aim better and then who knows how this story will conclude. |
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Date: 12/14/2020 6:42:00 PM
From Authorid: 21435
Hekler As a matter of fact, I do know a couple of angels. One is named "Tiny," and the other is called, " something Olajuwon." There was a time when I trusted those two with my well being, but not any more. I was fighting for my life, at the time and was depending on them, heavily. I was holding my own against a trio of assassins and then I started taking rather serious blows, on the backside of my upper and lower body. The two angels had sold me out for a '47 pan head and a pair of vintage basketball shorts, worn by the Legendary Pete Maravich. The assassins were probably the most skilled, among "my people," and without my "pseudo guardian angels," it didn't take long before I was in an extremely tight spot. Finally, realizing that I was doomed, I played on their sympathies. (I began to shamelessly grovel) I begged them to give me time to reflect on my life, before they slaughtered me. (and, believe it or not, it worked) So a day and a half later, I was still "reflecting," (You, see; I had a very long life to reflect on.) and the assassins were getting a bit impatient. "They" declared that my "reflected life" was extremely boring and made to draw and quarter me, post haste. You'll never guess who (or perhaps, what) came to save me? It was the same "pregnant, silver tongued, shape shifting, bird dog" that I had abandoned to the caymen, all those years ago. "He, she, it" came swooping out of the clouds, snatched me up and made it across San Louis Pass, before hide tide. I kept "he, she or it" on, as my ward and we're all four, living comfortably in Tivoli, Texas. (I let you know when the "he, she, or it" is born.... stay hydrated |
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Date: 12/19/2020 6:14:00 AM
From Authorid: 5940
You know I have a guy named Red, he runs a black market style operation in Shawshank. He could probably get a hammer similar to what you’re advertising for a pack of smokes...just saying. |
Date: 1/7/2021 10:57:00 PM
From Authorid: 42945
Hahahahahahaha lol!!!!  |
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