Shrimps an' shrimp'n....

Oh boy, what I gonna write about today? Words are get'n purty scarce round ol' Billy Bob's Place. In the last two years, I done bout said it all.

Holy crap, I done did it now. Yesterday was an absolutely beautiful day an' all I done was lay round "do'n nuttin", think'n I would jump out of bed tomorrow morn'n (today) brite an' early, grab me a cup, punch the clock and enter the salt mines. Ha, well guess what? There ain't no freak'n sunshine, it's cold outside (51 degs) and it's rain'n.

Had me a excit'n dream last night...I were fish'n. What I done was to wade out to the second bar on the beach down Port Aransas way wear'n me a pair of chest waders. Them the ones that if'n ya tip over, they gonna fill up with water....ya gonna sink to the bottom an' drown for sure. I were catch'n one fish right after the other. Big 'uns too. That when here come a great big wave, bout the size a tsunami what flop me round every way but loose. Next thing I knowed I were lay'n on the beach with some bikini clad young lady giv'n me French resuscitation with her tongue. It worked....believe it or not.

Did I ever tell ya bout the time??? I were a shrimp boat captain ya know. Own my own 40 foots boat an' all that stuff. Look kind of like this one.

 Like Forrest Gump say...."that's my boat". Well we had just brung in the net full of shrimps, fish, crabs and a conglomeration of tin cans, beer bottles an' a bunch other useless junk. "Let's go swim'n" I says. So I climbs up there on top the cabin an' make me a leap head first into unknown water. "Billy Bob, you are bay shrimp'n....the water is only 5 feets deep". I hit the bottom like a rock. Sinked my head right in that mud....thank God it were mud and not Sanfords junk yard. I come up out there spit'n mud....say'n all kind of cuss'n words. Almost break my fool neck. But that weren't the last time I do something stoopit. How I'm still alive to this day is astounding.

By the way, most every shrimp'n day we would bring in right at a hunnert pound of succulent shrimps along with a tub of live crabs an' some eat'n fish. But let me tell ya right now, shrimp'n ain't easy. Ya got to get up way before the sun does, hit the gas station for 55 gallon of fuel an' a hunnert pound of ice, transfer the fuel into the boat, stow the ice an' be underway at first crack of dawn. Then ya drag this big ol' net around all day long, bring it in, put it out, separate your catch, ice it down....pheeeewww....that work. And then ya finally make it back to dock, ya gotta sell all that stuff, clean the nets, wash down the boat....all before ya go home. What ya don't sell off the boat, ya gotta peddle to the restaurants round town at discount rates. In bed by 10pm if'n you're lucky.

I told this story one time before, but here it is one more time. What do ya eat on a shrimp boat? Well shrimps, what else? I got so sick of shrimp that I never wanted to see one again. I opens my lunch sack an' there they were....staring back at me....shrimps. Boiled shrimp. Fried shrimp. Shrimps prepared in every conceivable way. Yes, even shrimp hamburgers. I open that lunch sack one day an' HOLY COWS, it were a hamburger from the hamburger joint. My God, I done went to heaven.