How time flys....

Boy howdy, here it is the ending of another month already. And won't be long till the end of another year. Where does time go so fast?

I were sit'n here sip'n a cup an' got to think'n bout what I was do'n a few years back and why I ain't do'n the same stuff today. Well honestly I can tell ya....what I was do'n back then was just slap ass dangerous and nobody in their right mind would be do'n stuff like that. If I was to attempt to relive stunts I done "a few years back", I would probably be dead before tomorrow morn'n.

Most my life has been an adventure, well beyond just an experience or a "normal day". If I didn't end up at the end of a day either in a hospital or jail, I had a good day. No I'm not a freak'n criminal or a daredevil like that dude what jump motorcycles over a hunnert school busses.....break'n bones an' stuff. But when old Billy Bob walk upon the scene, something was gonna happen.  You've hear me say many times, "life without adventure is just an experience". Well that the way I have lived my life since childhood.

When I lived on the farm, I was a terror to all the farm animals. They see me com'n, they was outta here. I was a rock throw'n fool. Could knock a squirrel out a tree on the fist throw. The other boys kept there distance when I had a supply of rocks near by. I rode pigs in the pig pen. Make 'em squeal like a pig. Have ya ever been bit by a pig? Jump up on the back of a new born calf out in the barn yard. Ride that sucker like a rodeo star. Mama cow beat my ass though. Run me slap under a barbwire fence....bout a hunnert mile a hour....me yell'n "MOMS" loud I could. Somewheres back there on my butt I still got the scar. Jump off the smoke house right in the middle of a old lumber pile. Put a nail plumb out the top my foot what the doctor pour alcohol and stuff like that. Now that was an experience I'll never forget.  Pull a fox out his hole down there by the creek bank. Well yeah he bite me a good'un. Doctor put more that god awful alcohol on it. Jump on that old ugly dog what was sleep'n under my tree. He bite me too. Back to the doctor and his alcohol.  Old Tom cat put a number on me a few times too. More alcohol.  Have ya ever jump out a tree swing....backwards....downhill....into a little creek....cuts an' bruises??? Still more alcohol. These tid bits of information were just the beginning of "The Adventures of Billy Bob". Yeah old Billy Bob was a "wild child" an' he weren't even 7 year old yet.

The 2 weeks of feel'n good done up an' went away. Ya see, I were all fired up to get my work list down a couple more items an' it hit me.....don't do nuttin....hurt pain agony....lazy. But I did do something anyhows. Marked the dash air off'n my list. But as far as the rest of the list....nuttin. Billy Bob don't feel good. Hurt all over. Smell like Ben Gay....eat'n aspirin like they was candy. 

Look'n round "da house".....what the hell do I keep that stuff for? So far I have "dumpstered" two great big ol' bags of stuff and from the looks of things, two more to follow right shortly. Then I got to think'n, why do men keep worthless junk stuff like that in the first place when they know damn well they'll never use it? Makes no sense to me, but it sure looks purty sit'n up there on a shelf. Some is memories....the rest is junk.  God help us poor junk collect'n rednecks.