The clan is gathering for Blogorado! Lite posting and commenting for the next couple of days!!
I gotta outta Dodge for a couple of weeks, making a low pass by the old home town to see friends and get on some hogs…
This is standing about where the pasture fence used to be, looking at where the house used to be…
And this is looking at where the pasture and the creek used to be that we grew up playing in, and the woods we roamed that went about 4 miles… sigh…
We did get on some hogs right at dusk yesterday, down on the Sulfer River. We took a john boat down the river to where they’ve been spotted and tied up across the river from the marshy spot at about 1845. We figured about 30-35 yards across the river at that point. Three of us in the boat, me with the SCAR, a buddy with an M-14 and another buddy with an AR.
Sure enough, about nightfall they showed up, just barely enough light to see ( I REALLY wish I could afford NVGs), and we shot on a three count.
I got one right below the eyes, a second as they turned, and hit a third and tumbled it, but it got up and hauled ass… It was all over in probably about 15 seconds. But we ‘think’ we killed 8 or 9, and got lead into at least a couple more. Due to the marshy stuff we weren’t able to get up to where we’d knocked the hogs down, but the spotlight showed 8 carcasses in the marsh (and they all looked like feral pigs rather than boars). In chatting on the way back to the landing, and at dinner, the guys estimate they’ve killed somewhere in the neighborhood of 150 pigs in the last 15 months, and don’t really seem to be putting a dent in the population.
We went down to a Catfish place on the river (Sproul’s) and had catfish, pickled green tomatoes, and a big slice of coconut creme pie! A GOOD day!!!
This morning a met a couple of folks for breakfast prior to heading to Tulsa, and there were four little ol’ ladies in the restaurant. As they were leaving, “Miss Ellie” (who is about 88 or 89, former school teacher, and just a little bitty thing) came over to speak to us, and we asked her which of the new guns she’d pick. She looked at the LCRs and KelTecs and said something to the effect of, “I don’t hold with those new fangled plastic things.” We all cracked up and the Sheriff asked her if she was carrying, and she answered, “Now Sheriff, you ‘know’ a lady doesn’t tell!” As she patted her purse. He also asked her when she’d practiced last, and she kinda glared at him, and said, “You know darn well I practice EVERY Sunday after church!” And off she went…
The Sgt that was there related a story from when he was a young Deputy about Miss Ellie, she had some new neighbors move in and they called in one Sunday about gunshots next door, and the young deputy responded… He said he went up to the door, not knowing what he would find, and here was this little old lady, and he was kinda scared to ask her, but he did; of course it was Miss Ellie ‘practicing’ so he got invited in to ‘check’ to make sure everything was okay, and there was the pistol on the kitchen table being cleaned, with a double barrel 20 Ga leaning against the table. He got a cookie and a cup of coffee, and went next door and had a chat with the neighbors… No more gunshot calls after that…
I’m up in Tulsa right now, just met up with Jim and we went to Wilson’s for BBQ. Probably a GOOD thing I’m not living back here, I’d weigh 400 lbs with all the good food!!!
On to Blogerado tomorrow for more shooty fun, good friends and MORE good food 🙂 I’m gonna need a wheelbarrow by Monday…
Just heard Steve Jobs died… RIP Mr Jobs, you done good… But now what happens with Apple??? He WAS the driving force!
You’ve gotta love them, bless their hearts, they try SO hard, and most of them ARE volunteers…
The Fasting & Prayer Conference includes meals.
The sermon this morning: ‘Jesus Walks on the Water.’ The sermon tonight: ‘Searching for Jesus.’
Ladies, don’t forget the rummage sale. It’s a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.
Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our community. Smile at someone who is hard to love. Say ‘Hell’ to someone who doesn’t care much about you.
Don’t let worry kill you off – let the Church help.
Miss Charlene Mason sang ‘I will not pass this way again,’ giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.
For those of you who have children and don’t know it, we have a nursery downstairs.
Next Thursday there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.
Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on October 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in their school days.
A bean supper will be held on Tuesday evening in the church hall. Music will follow..
At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be ‘What Is Hell?’ Come early and listen to our choir practice.
Eight new choir robes are currently needed due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some older ones.
Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles and other items to be recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.
Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased person you want remembered..
The church will host an evening of fine dining, super entertainment and gracious hostility.
Potluck supper Sunday at 5:00 PM – prayer and medication to follow.
The ladies of the Church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon.
This evening at 7 PM there will be a hymn singing in the park across from the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.
Ladies Bible Study will be held Thursday morning at 10 AM . All ladies are invited to lunch in the Fellowship Hall after the B. S. Is done.
The pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the Congregation would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast next Sunday.
Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM . Please use the back door.
The eighth-graders will be presenting Shakespeare’s Hamlet in the Church basement Friday at 7 PM . The congregation is invited to attend this tragedy.
Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church Please use large double door at the side entrance.
The Associate Minister unveiled the church’s new campaign slogan last Sunday: ‘I Upped My Pledge – Up Yours.
Still on vacation, still on the road, having fun; real blog stuff later…
Spent the night with an old Shipmate from the early 70s last night in Memphis, we got to talking and his wife (who married him after he retired), didn’t understand half of what we were talking about, so “Splat”dug out a cruise book from back in the day, and then the stories started…
I ‘really’ think about half way through she was questioning who the hell she’d married… 🙂
In Splat’s honor, I give you Sailor Bars… Where most of us grew up!!!
Our favorite liberty bars were unlike no other watering holes or dens of iniquity inhabited by seagoing men. They had to meet strict standards to be in compliance with the acceptable requirement for a sailor beer-swilling dump. The first and foremost requirement was a crusty old gal serving suds. She had to be able to wrestle King Kong to parade rest. Be able to balance a tray with one hand, knock sailors out of the way with the other hand and skillfully navigate through a roomful of milling around drunks. On slow nights, she had to be the kind of gal who would give you a back scratch or put her foot on the table so you could admire her new ankle bracelet some “mook” brought her back from a Hong Kong liberty. A good barmaid had to be able to whisper sweet nothings in your young sailor ear like, “I love you no shit, you buy me Honda??”
“Buy a pack of Clorets and chew up the whole thing before you get within heaving range of any gal you ever want to see again.” And, from the crusty old gal behind the bar, “Hey animals, I know we have a crowd tonight, but if any of you guys find the head facilities fully occupied and start pissing down the floor drain, you’re gonna find yourself scrubbing the deck with your white hats!”
The barmaids had to be able to admire great tattoos, look at pictures of ugly bucktooth kids and smile. Be able to help haul drunks to cabs and comfort 19 year-olds who had lost someone he thought loved him in a dark corner booth. They could look at your ship’s identification shoulder tab and tell you the names of the Skippers back to the time you were a Cub Scout.
If you came in after a late night maintenance problem and fell asleep with a half-eaten Slim-Jim in your hand, they tucked your peacoat around you, put out the cigarette you left burning in the ashtray and replaced the warm draft you left sitting on the table with a cold one when you woke up. Why? Simply because they were one of the few people on the face of the earth that knew what you did, and appreciated what you were doing.
And if you treated them like a decent human being and didn’t drive ’em nuts by playing songs they hated on the juke box, they would lean over the back of the booth and park their soft, warm tits on your neck when they sat two San Miguel beers in front of you. And the Imported table wipe down guy and glass washer, trash dumper, deck swabber and paper towel replacer. The guy had to have baggy tweed pants and a gold tooth and a grin like a 1950 Buick. And a name like “Ramon”, “Juan”, “Pedro” or “Tico”. He had to smoke unfiltered Luckies, Camels or Raleighs. He wiped the tables down with a sour wash rag that smelled like a billy goats crotch and always said, “How are choo navee mans tonight? He was the indispensable man. The guy with credentials that allowed him to borrow Slim-Jims, Beer Nuts and pickled hard boiled eggs from other beer joints when they ran out where he worked.
The establishment itself. The place had to have walls covered with ship and squadron plaques. The walls were adorned with enlarged unit patches and the dates of previous deployments. A dozen or more old, yellowed photographs of fellows named “Buster”, “Chicago”, “P-Boat Barney”, “Flaming Hooker Harry”, “Malone”, “Honshu Harry”, “Jackson”, “Douche Bag Doug”, and “Capt Slade Cutter” decorated any unused space. It had to have the obligatory Michelob, Pabst Blue Ribbon and “Beer Nuts sold here” neon signs. An eight-ball mystery beer tap handle and signs reading. “Your mother does not work here, so clean away your frickin trash.”
“Keep your hands off the barmaid.”
“Don’t throw butts in urinal.”
“Barmaid’s word is final in settling bets.”
“Take your fights out in the alley behind the bar!”
“Owner reserves the right to waltz your worthless sorry ass outside.”
“Shipmates are responsible for riding herd on their ship/squadron drunks.” This was typical signage found in any good liberty bar.
You had to have a juke box built along the lines of a Sherman tank loaded with Hank Williams, Mother Maybelle Carter, Johnny Horton, Johnny Cash and twenty other crooning goobers nobody ever heard of. The damn thing has to have “La Bamba”, Herb Alpert’s “Lonely Bull” and Johnny Cash’s “Don’t take your guns to town”. The furniture in a real good liberty bar had to be made from coal mine shoring lumber and was not fully acceptable until it had 600 cigarette burns and your ship’s numbers or “F**k the Navy” carved into it. The bar had to have a brass foot rail and at least six Slim-Jim containers, an oversized glass cookie jar full of Beer-Nuts, a jar of pickled hard boiled eggs that could produce rectal gas emissions that could shut down a sorority party, and big glass containers full of something called Pickled Pigs Feet and Polish Sausage.
Only drunk Chiefs and starving Ethiopians ate pickled pig’s feet and unless the last three feet of your colon had been manufactured by Midas, you didn’t want to get anywhere near the Polish Napalm Dogs.
No liberty bar was complete without a couple of hundred faded ship or airplane pictures and a “Shut the hell up!” sign taped on the mirror behind the bar along with several rather tasteless naked lady pictures. The pool table felt had to have at least three strategic rips as a result of drunken competitors and balls that looked as if a gorilla baby had teethed on the sonuvabitches.
Liberty bars were home and it didn’t matter what country, state, or city you were in. When you walked into a good liberty bar, you felt at home. These were also establishments where 19 year-old kids received an education available nowhere else on earth. You learned how to “tell” and “listen” to sea stories.
You learned about sex at $10.00 a pop — from professional ladies who taught you things your high school biology teacher didn’t know were anatomically possible. You learned how to make a two cushion bank shot and how to toss down a beer and shot of Sun Torry known as a “depth charge.”
We were young, and a helluva long way from home. We were pulling down crappy wages for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a-week availability and loving the life we lived. We didn’t know it at the time, but our association with the men we served with forged us into the men we became. And a lot of that association took place in bars where we shared the stories accumulated in our, up to then, short lives. We learned about women and that life could be tough on a gal.
While many of our classmates were attending college, we were getting an education slicing through the green rolling seas in WestPac, experiencing the orgasmic rush of a night cat shot, the heart pounding drama of the return to the ship with the gut wrenching arrestment to a pitching deck. The hours of tedium, boring holes in the sky late at night, experiencing the periodic discomfort of turbulence, marveling at the creation of St. Elmo’s Fire, and sometimes having our reverie interrupted with stark terror.
But when we came ashore on liberty, we could rub shoulders with some of the finest men we would ever know, in bars our mothers would never have approved of, in saloons and cabarets that would live in our memories forever. Long live those liberties in WestPac and in the Med – They were the greatest! “Any man who may be asked in this century what he did to make his life worthwhile I think can respond with a good deal of pride and satisfaction, I SERVED IN THE UNITED STATES NAVY.”
And I know I’m home when I can get this…
And topped off with a piece of Pecan pie… I’m in hog heaven 🙂
876 miles, 13 hours, and my butt is draggin… Getting old sucks!
And the idjits were TRULY out today!!!
You two Va Tech idjits in your POS Prius’s, I hope you ‘like’ the tickets you got for playing the blocking game on I-81, and be glad at least a couple of the truckers in the mile long back up didn’t stop and kick your asses on general principals!!! 55 and blocking BOTH lanes is NOT cool… And the cop was pissed cause he had to come all the way up on the shoulder to pull your dumb asses over…
And the smart ass in the mini-van from New Joisy, too bad you got pissed when I went around you on the right, but when the speed limit is 70 and you’re doing 60 in the left lane and WON’T move your ass over, I’m going around you… And no, your little POS van cannot out accelerate 6.2 liters of Detroit V-8! So STFU and don’t be stupid (again).
For some reason LOTS of Hawks flying over I-40 between Nashville and Knoxville, some of them quite low. I think I counted around 20 that I could see… Beautiful birds!
Food, bed and do it all over again, in that order… Y’all have a good one!
These are actual comments made by South Carolina Troopers that were taken off their car videos:
1. “You know, stop lights don’t come any redder than the one you just went through.”
2. “Relax, the handcuffs are tight because they’re new. They’ll stretch after you wear them a while.”
3. “If you take your hands off the car, I’ll make your birth certificate a worthless document.”
4. “If you run, you’ll only go to jail tired.”
5. “Can you run faster than 1200 feet per second? Because that’s the speed of the bullet that’ll be chasing you.”
6. “You don’t know how fast you were going? I guess that means I can write anything I want to on the ticket, huh?”
7. “Yes, sir, you can talk to the shift supervisor, but I don’t think it will help. Oh, did I mention that I’m the shift supervisor?”
8. “Warning! You want a warning? O.K, I’m warning you not to do that again or I’ll give you another ticket.”
9. “The answer to this last question will determine whether you are drunk or not. Was Mickey Mouse a cat or a dog?”
10. “Fair? You want me to be fair? Listen, fair is a place where you go to ride on rides, eat cotton candy and corn dogs and step in monkey poop.”
11. “Yeah, we have a quota. Two more tickets and my wife gets a toaster oven.”
12. “In God we trust; all others we run through NCIC.” (National Crime Information Center )
13. “Just how big were those ‘two beers’ you say you had?”
14. “No sir, we don’t have quotas anymore. We used to, but now we’re allowed to write as many tickets as we can.”
15. “I’m glad to hear that the Chief (of Police) is a personal friend of yours. So you know someone who can post your bail.”
AND THE WINNER IS….
16. “You didn’t think we give pretty women tickets?
You’re right, we don’t, Sign here.”
Folks, we’re not quite to $5000 for Kilted to Kick Cancer that Ambulance Driver was hoping to get, and there are only three more days… PLEASE pick a gun blogger, or go hit my sidebar and donate, anything will help!!!
And LiveStrong is asking you to wear Yellow on Oct 2 to support the testicular cancer survivors!
Thanks for taking the time to support a truly good cause, and if you’re a guy, go get CHECKED! 10 minutes just might save your ass… AND your life!!!
And LiveStrong is asking you to wear Yellow on Oct 2 to support the testicular cancer survivors!
Thanks for taking the time to support a truly good cause, and if you’re a guy, go get CHECKED! 10 minutes just might save your ass… AND your life!!!
Last meeting is wrapped up, back at the airport, doing the bag drag…
One pic from a bit ago from the hotel room while I was picking up the bags…
Foreground is the beach at the Hilton, the little pier divides that and Ft. Derussy, which stretches to the curve in the distance. VERY few (probably the least I’ve ever seen on the beach in 30 years), and only counted 4 surfers out playing with the little break. I couldn’t help but laugh at one poor kid who was trying to learn how to boogie board, he must have done about 8-9 faceplants in the sand before he ever got one right… I’d be surprised if he has ANY skin left on his nose or forehead…
Gas was $4.64/gal for premium when I filled up today on the way to the airport, and they expect it to be over $5/gal by Christmas. Milk is about that high too, but I didn’t check those prices. And the Hawaiians are actually getting worried about what may probably will happen in Nov when the ‘super committee’ fails to come up with any agreements and the military takes BIG cuts, cause they now realize Hawaii will be on the chopping block for potentially significant cuts.
Among other things, it appears a lot of government/government related contractors are NOT signing new year long leases, instead going month to month until they see what happens…
Over at Murph’s, he’s got a couple of good posts up on this Bauer character HERE. That turd needs to just leave the USA, because he’s too stupid to live here… (Oh, wait a minute, he’s from Berkley; never mind).
Waiting on the first meeting this morning, I was talking to one of the folks I’ve known for years, and he is training for the Triathlon (he’s been a marathoner for years); we were talking about running and maintaining heart rate, and one of the other guys (occasional runner), said “Tim” has a BP of Dead over Zombie… cracked me up… Tim was a bit incensed, and said well it’s REALLY 80 over 60, and pulse is 40 on a bad day…
And then there was the ‘trial balloon’ by NC Gov Perdue about suspending the 2012 elections to give the Congress time to work…
You can go HERE and see if you think she was joking. I don’t…
Okkaaayyyy… One more bag drag, off to the airplane, catch y’all later…
Sitting in the Red Carpet at Dulles, I noted there were a group of TVs showing CNN and a group showing Fox News. NONE of the CNN TVs were being watched, nor were there even any people sitting in those areas…
Fast forward to the LAX Red Carpet, all the TVs but two with ESPN on were on CNN. I asked why Fox News wasn’t being shown, and I was told “It’s not allowed in here”…
Interesting… But then it IS LA, nuff said…
And what is it with the androgynous ‘males’ wearing the big watches, no socks and the crappy attitudes??? Is that just a Kalifornia thing or what? One of them was sitting across the aisle from me on the leg to Hawaii, and he was basically being a shit to the flight crew and the people around him.
Hawaii is down ‘significantly’ on visitors, guesstimated at 35% less folks. Very little traffic yesterday coming in from the airport, beaches are sparsely populated, and the restaurants are half empty…
I did meet a 90 year old and his wife this morning at breakfast, he’s a retired submariner, planning on spending tonight in his ‘old’ room at the Royal Hawaiian, just like he did in 1944, when it was an R&R hotel for the USN Submarine Force. He was saying he’d talked to the management and will actually get the SAME room he had back then. Pretty neat!!!
Managed to ‘sleep in’ till 0400 this morning, so I’m only half jet lagged… sigh…
Fast forward to the LAX Red Carpet, all the TVs but two with ESPN on were on CNN. I asked why Fox News wasn’t being shown, and I was told “It’s not allowed in here”…
Interesting… But then it IS LA, nuff said…
And what is it with the androgynous ‘males’ wearing the big watches, no socks and the crappy attitudes??? Is that just a Kalifornia thing or what? One of them was sitting across the aisle from me on the leg to Hawaii, and he was basically being a shit to the flight crew and the people around him.
Hawaii is down ‘significantly’ on visitors, guesstimated at 35% less folks. Very little traffic yesterday coming in from the airport, beaches are sparsely populated, and the restaurants are half empty…
I did meet a 90 year old and his wife this morning at breakfast, he’s a retired submariner, planning on spending tonight in his ‘old’ room at the Royal Hawaiian, just like he did in 1944, when it was an R&R hotel for the USN Submarine Force. He was saying he’d talked to the management and will actually get the SAME room he had back then. Pretty neat!!!
Managed to ‘sleep in’ till 0400 this morning, so I’m only half jet lagged… sigh…
Playing catch up today, potential job change in the offing, weather is lousy, and a trip tomorrow, so I don’t have much today… Go read those on the sidebar, at least THEY have some coherent thoughts…
If you haven’t already, please donate to either Prostate Cancer or Livestrong and support Ambulance Driver’s Kilted to Kick (male) Cancer drive… These are the current standings and the current participants.
Got this in email a few minutes ago, and it pretty much sums up my thoughts on the whole MSM vs. President Unicorn issue… And I don’t see it getting any better any time soon either.
Sigh…
Gotta go try to be productive, y’all have a good weekend and shoot em good if you get the chance!!!