Sunday, April 26, 2015

We have cat puppys....Oh my God, not again

Well shoot boy howdy....I ain't gonna write much today.

I ain't done worth a poop on fix'n that dad gum leak'n winder. I was hope'n it could be fixed without pull'n the whole thing slap out the side of "da house", but from what I find after close observation....I got to pull it slap out the side of "da house". An' I ain't gonna do that while I'm stuck in south Texas. It takes help, an' I ain't got no help.
So....here what I'm gonna do. I got me a roll of clear vinyl packing tape an' I'm gonna tape that slider winder water tite. Won't be no water leak when I get finished. Maybe one my boys in Georgia will have heart enough to give me a hand an' we can fix that sucker permanently.

Nephew Frank just drop by for visit...."Hey Uncle Bill, ya got kittens up under your motorhome". I knowed I should have plugged up them holes last year when I had kittens up under there. Now what the hell do I do? I'm not a cat killer, so I got to wait for them to come out on their own. Wonder how long that gonna take?

Dang I don't feel like go'n to Walmart today. But I need some stuff. Dang, I ain't go'n today.
Ha, that was a quick decision.

I sure am get'n peeved bout this dad gum laptop. Curser jump all over the screen when I want it over here. Dad gum screen saver freezes up. CD rom thingy don't work. Dang!!!! An' it's only 2 years old. As I recall, I didn't have me none these problems until the laptop was upgraded from Win 8.0 to 8.1. This sucks.
See what I'm talk'n bout....right now the curser is go'n crazy....see it....damn. Have to use a external mouse.

Ok.....I'm out of here...got things to do ya know. HAHAHAHA....things to do.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Where is home when you're homeless?

Is that sunshine I see? Dang, it's been a while. I've been in the dark from big ol' black clouds so long, I got to put me some sunglasses on. This can be taken any way ya want to read it.

I've been retired from the University of Texas for 13 years. I've been full time RV'n for 13 years. I live on the streets, I'm homeless. I know a few other RV'ers that are homeless. Ain't got nuttin but a old RV to live in an' run the roads in search for some excit'n picture perfect exotic spot to camp for a few days. Sounds pretty good don't it? Travel'n all over the country see'n places ya ain't never see before. Do'n stuff ya ain't never did before. Meet'n up with other "homeless" people an' trad'n stories around a blaz'n campfire. Climb'n mountains. Walk'n an' hike'n trails. Swim'n in the Colorado River. Catch'n fish in the Sea of Cortez. Sight see'n the old ghost towns of the west. Man, that must be the life.

Well, yeah it is....for a while. Speak'n for myself here. At some point, it's gonna get old. It's gonna get hard. An' not so excit'n no more. That's when it's time to go home....sit back an' remissness for a bit. Take a break. But where the hell is home? You're homeless. People along the way ask me where I'm from. I could tell 'em bout 18 different states, but I always say Texas,....'cause I like Texas so much. But even in Texas, I ain't got no wheres to call home. I'm freak'n homeless. I need some beer, wine, drugs, a sammich, some shoes an' a dry place to lay down at night. Ha, beer, wine an' drugs added for spice...I don't do none of 'em.

Now don't get me wrong an' think I don't like this lifestyle, 'cause I do like it. In fack, I love it. I like it so much I would never ever live in a house again. Ya see, when ya live in a house, ya cain't just pack up over night an' move somewheres else. Sucker ain't got no wheels. I love "Sally da house", but she is a bit larger than I need now days. I got her pretty much "comfortized", but I just need a place to park her for a while. Full hook ups an' a place to park a bulldozer. Sounds simple don't it?

Well, it ain't. There are no places to park a big ol' motorhome, a Jeep an' a bulldozer.....an' call it home. God I want me a bulldozer. With the economy an the greedy land grabbers, even a tiny " lot" cain't be purchased for less than $25,000 big ones. An' then it has freak'n restrictions....no RV's.

Back in 2002 or 03, I went to visit my son Jesse. I pull into the yard up under a couple nice shade trees an' set up camp. His lot was at the entrance to a housing development. In nuttin flat, here come the city officials...."you cain't park that RV in the yard". Even write me a eviction notice...with a fine if'n I wasn't down the road in 10 days. On the lot next door sit's this old abandoned trailer house. I say something bout that an' am told...."RV's are not allowed in city limits". What the hell??? My trailer house has a motor, what's the difference?

Same thing happen in Tallapoosa, Ga. I fount this nice little lot where there once sat a trailer house. Water , electric an' sewer right there. The price was right. I contacted the city...."RV's not allowed in city limits".

But anyhows, I been look'n. Ain't no better off today than I was a few years back. I suppose I'll remain homeless till the day I die. There's other options, but I ain't found what I'm look'n for yet. Not anything I could call "home" anyhows.

I got a water leak. On the passenger side front winder. It needs fixed before my floor rots. Ya see, on RV's where the winder glass slides back an' forth, there are "weep" holes in the bottom track. If the weep holes are plug up, you got a leak to the inside. In the track that the winder glass slides in is this insert thingy made of fake rubber an' some kind of hair look'n stuff....kind of like velcro. From Google search, there should be cutouts at each weep hole to direct water to the outside. I take a look see, an' that insert looks like it's moved....not in the right position. That's my project for today.....fix that sucker.  

Friday, April 24, 2015

Don't never jump off'n no roof

I was sit'n here an' got to think'n.......why?

Boy howdy, I been have me plenty them "whys" for all my life...."why the hell did you do that"? "why is the cat all puffed up"? "why did you....why did you....why did you"? Well shoot, there's only one simple answer to that, "that's just the way I do things". I still do things like that an' I still get asked "why?".

I would rekon that ya gotta live on a farm to learn how to do things the easy way. Like how to get off of a roof. What easier way is there other than to jump.....sheesh!!!...think bout it. Now days though, you won't even catch me on no dad gum roof. Been bout 2 years since I been on the roof of "Sally da house". Skeers shit out me when I'm up there.
Back to jump'n off'n a roof....us boys was play'n some silly game of some kind on the farm what involved climb'n all over the roofs of the barn, smoke house an' garage. Now jump'n out the hay loft, there weren't nuttin to that. Just land in the pile of hay lay'n on the ground. But we was on the smoke house, there weren't no hay, an' "Moms" was holler'n from across the yard...."you boys git off that roof before I beat yer ass". When Moms spoke, we listened. Since I was the smallest of the boys, an' they had scampered down the ladder....an' then took the ladder with 'em, I was stranded....with Moms headed this way with a big ol' switch in her hands. She's gonna beat my ass. So's I jump. Right into a pile of busted up used lumber....big ol' dry rot splinters an' nails. I land my right foot dead center one them nails....go right through my foot. I'm scream'n bloody murder an' Moms is crank'n up the old car for a trip to the doctor in town. This was my first experience with the healing powers of alcohol an' iodine on a open wound. Ha, I ain't never go on that roof no more.

But that weren't the last time I jump off a roof. An' that weren't the last time I got myself hurt. I jump off'n a neighbors garage an' could'a swear I done break both feet. Had to crawl on hands an' knees back to the house. Big ol' tears in my eyes. Didn't get on "that" roof again neither. Lesson learned...."don't never jump off'n a roof". Ha, I always tell everbody "that's why God invented ladders".

Trip to Georgia goes downhill a little more each day. I'm at a point that it wouldn't take much arm twist'n to crank up "Sally da house" an' head to the desert southwest. Well, maybe I'm jump'n the gun here a bit. Things could get better ya know.

Holy cows, I got me a whole page of Walmart stuff to go buy up. Eat'n stuff. But it won't be today. Ya see, when ya only sleep bout 5 hours a night, ya don't feel like do'n nuttin when ya get up. Today is one them days an' I got a ton of stuff what needs done. Just little stuff. The big stuff has got to wait till the yard drys up. An' there's more rain predicted. Ha, it rained again last night.  

Ok, I got me some think'n to do an' not much time left to do it. Today is already half gone.....damn!!!

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Studebakers were cool in their day

Have ya ever walked up to a wall an' couldn't go no further? Ain't got no ladder to climb over the wall?? Ain't got no shovel to dig under the wall??? Ain't got no dynamite to blow that wall to smithereens??? Dang, this sucks.
"Ha Billy Bob, ya could go out an' buy ya a bulldozer".

Ha, did I ever tell ya bout that time....me a Gerry was on our way to San Bernardino, Ca. We was in Gerry's old 1950 Studebaker what we had hop'ed up a bit. For exhaust, we had installed a dual pipe system, made out of 2 inch stainless steel flex pipe with 2 modified glass pack mufflers. Sounded wonderful.

We was cruis'n along at bout 80 mile a hour an' we come up on some road construction. There's a hunnert construction cones in the road. "Hey Gerry, run over one them cones". Gerry swerve to the right an'....KERBLOOOWY, we hit one them cones. Then we hear this god awlful sound come from under the car. Stainless steel flex pipe is strung out 25 feet behind us. Now how the hell did that happen, it was just a cone. Upon close inspection of the cone, that sucker has a half of a inch of heavy plate steel in the bottom.

Not only does stainless steel hold heat for a while, but it's also very sharp on the edges. I reaches down to pick up the end of that pipe....an' I sizzle both my hands. Blisters come up later. After it cools enough to get a good hand hold, Gerry grabs holt that pipe an' give it a good tug to pull it loose from the muffler. It don't tug. It don't pull loose from the muffler. Gerry gets a big ol' gash in his hand from the sharp edges. The only tools we got a a big ol' hammer an' a pair of pliers. We beat hell out of that strung out pipe under the car try'n to break it loose. I swear, we was on the side the road for a hour, sweat'n up a storm an' in severe pain, get'n that pipe loose. Moral of story....Never "intentionally" run over a road construction cone. Sheesh, me an' Gerry hurted for a week.

That same Studebaker....we was cruis'n some counrty roads outside San Bernardino. Just mind'n our own business an' hav'n a good ol' time. Now Gerry's Studebaker was unique. You could let off the gas, turn the key off an' coast a few hunnert feet. Then when ya turn the key back on, there's a loud ass explosion of unburned gas. KAAABOOOOM....sound something like a 10 gauge shotgun...or something like that.

There's a boy ride'n his bicycle down a hill. He probly hav'n him a good ol' time too. Gerry reach down an' turn the key off....Ha, I know what Gerry gonna do. We right beside that boy when Gerry turn the key back on. KAAABOOOOM!!!! That poor boy go down in a ditch scream'n bloody murder. By "down in a ditch" I mean....he crash big time. I bet ya a dollar he pee his pants too. Not be'n a teenager no more, I don't do that kind of stuff no more. Shit, somebody could git hurt. In case you're wonder'n, no, the boy did not get hurt....but you talk bout pissed, that boy was some kind of pissed. Been me, I would'a been run'n down the road after that Studebaker chunk'n big ol' rocks.

Nuttin else to write bout today but old memories. So I'm gonna leave ya now. Laters!!!


Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Sadie Mae

Ah ha, request made in the comment section. Let's see what we can do bout that.

As you all know (y'all), the old Billy Bob ain't accustomed to writ'n no short blog posts. Well, I did yesterday an' it paid off with more comments than I get in a week. I was gonna write a funny post bout that today, but think I'll just let it go.

Let's talk bout Sadie Mae an' how I acquired her. Much led up to go'n to the "rescue" place an' pick'n up a dog, so let's git that out the way first.

Since 1995, I've had terrible luck with dogs. When I lived on the sailboat, there was Jo Jo. Then there was Reebok. Then there was Boudreaux. An' of course you remember Lug Nut, Sadie Mae's constant companion.

Well wait a minute, I could sit here all day long an' write bout my dogs, but shoot, I done wrote bout 'em before. 
Just click here an' see where Sadie Mae come from. My dog Sadie Mae.

You may notice, I don't have a lot to say bout Sadie Mae in my posts. There good reason for that....she don't do nuttin all day long. She just lays there or sit's under my feet. Now there was one time I was gonna take Sadie Mae to the dog pound place an' tie her ass to the door handle. But I got over that. She is NOT a "man's" dog. Shoot, if'n some big ol' "biker babe" was to knock me to the ground an' try to molest me, Sadie Mae wouldn't say a word.

Me an' Sadie Mae has been together for right at 10 years now. March of 2005. That makes her either 11 or 12 years old.....therebouts. We've traveled many many miles together an' she's done piss me off many many times tangle'n her rope around the tires on "da house", telephone poles. fence posts or anything else lay'n round. But she's always been there to talk to me an' comfort me in times of need. She's a good dog, but worthless as hell if'n ya wanna go outside play any kinds of dog games. Fetch, chase an' stuff like that. At her age an' at my age, that stuff don't matter no more....I love my Sadie Mae.

Retirement party? Gotta make this short even though it weren't. Much research, bout 2 months, went into the day I was to retire. I was to wear a rental tux an' a derby top hat that last day on the job. I was to be picked up by a stretch limousine at 4pm that afternoon an' delivered to the Island Cafe. I was to be walked to that limousine by two scantly clad "chick a babies" from Hooters in Corpus Christi. Shoot, I were all excitis.

Then bad news hit me. The "pay up front" limo rental place cancelled my pick up 'cause I ain't paid nuttin up front. My tux did not come anywhere close to fit'n, an' had to be returned. The scantly clad "chick a babies" were no longer available. I was slap out of pocket change....broke. But not all was lost. I got free coffee at the Island Cafe.   

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Monday, April 20, 2015

Weber breakdown....where my propane?

It is soooo hard to have a good day when all around you you see nothing but bad. I read the news every morn'n ya know, an' when I finish, I'm soooo damn piss off I cain't see straight.
Defacing of statues of prominent figures condoned by college officials.
Unions sue'n Walmart to rehire people that walked off their jobs.
White children rejected from school field trips.
Grrrrrrrr....another cup of coffee!!!

Ok, I'm back.

Dang, I figgered yesterdays post bout "hot" cars would draw some attention. Wording again....never say "sissy".

I rekon there ain't no sense tell'n ya bout the 1974 AMC Javelin I had is there?

Look exactly like this one....less the spoiler. This is the one the cop roll down his winder at a red light an' tell me to "git on it".
Man, can you imagine cruis'n round town in this????

I ain't no better off today than I was yesterday. But I did work on my Weber grill yesterday. Ya see, when Frank mowed my lawn, he moved the grill an' the hold down thingys for the base come loose. Pop slap out an' lose one of 'em. It was found an' I did me some modification. Drill them out an' put bolts through 'em. They won't be com'n out no more.

Then I decided I would burn me a couple hot dogs. I turn the burner on an' push the lighter thingy. It don't fire up. I take my trusty Bic lighter an' put the flame to the burner. I ain't got no gas. So's I start tak'n stuff apart. The burner orifice is clear. I pull the hose off'n the regulator, push the little seal thingy gizmo an' I ain't got no gas.  I got a full bottle of propane..."what the hell"? I pull the hose off'n the bottle....push the seal thingy gizmo on the bottle. WOW boy howdy, do I got me some gas or what....blow my little cigar right out my lips. So, the hose connection at the tank ain't push'n that seal thingy. Finally, after 15 minutes scratch'n head, I get me some gas. Fire up the burner an' I says...."the flame is too low". But it weren't.

The grate ain't been cleaned in months, so I turn it on high an' close the lid. Hmmmmm....only 500 degs. I brush the grate. Then I put it on low to check temp. Hmmmm.....375 degs. after a hour. That's too freak'n hot for chicken. But anyhows, it works again.

Rain is forecast for the rest of the week. Rather it rains is another story. "Sally da house" can not be moved until the ground is solid again. So that means, there will be no Texas state safety inspection again this week. Damn I hope she passes.

Well, today is Monday, Robert is on his way to Dallas. That's 350 or so miles from his daddy in Sinton. Bet ya a dollar he will come to visit if'n he gets some time off. In the mean time, I will chug along get'n "da house" ready for the trip to Georgia. The chug'n along depends on how much rain we get.

Ain't got nuttin excit'n to write bout so....."See ya laters".