Foot in pocket.....stupit stuff

Ok......where to start? I rekon the first thing to do would be to crawl through all the mud, dirt an' grime up under "that jeep" and change the starter. Although it's still working after yesterdays episode of almost stranding me at the lake. It's not know'n how hard to "wack" a starter, but know'n where to "wack" it. It' not a hard job to change the starter, but it sure is a dirty one. I suppose this mean old Billy Bob is gonna have to take another shower this week.

Have ya ever turn the tv off, turn the cell phone off, grab a cup of coffee an' go outside, find a nice quiet secluded spot to sit and ponder? Just let your mind wander anywheres it want to go? That what I do quite often.

I were do'n that last night an' I got to think'n bout how people are different. What they done with their lives. How they progressed into what they are today. How old Billy Bob got to where he is today, and still be alive could be on the best seller list for "The Idiots Guide to Survival". I ain't talk'n bout liv'n out in the woods and surviv'n the elements an' stuff like that. I'm talk'n bout still being alive with all the "stupit" things I done in my lifetime. "Hey watch this". "I'm gonna turn this old car over". "Git out the way...move....git out my way, I'm com'n through". "Holy shit, I'm fall'n out this tree". I fell lots of times under different circumstances, so I know what I'm talk'n bout when I say "Holy Shiiiit". Yes Billy Bob, you did some stupit stuff.

"Git the damn dog back in the boat". Ya see, we loaded up the dog in the boat and head off across the lake. Well, the dog didn't want in the boat, no way, shape or form. So we headed in close to shore an' push him out....think'n he would go lay up under the truck. What he didn't. He followed us, legs a flap'n, till he was wored slap out....gonna drown I betcha. Now we gotta get this damn hunnert pounds dog back it the boat an' he don't want back in the boat. I gets out the boat to hoist him up, but the damn dog sticks his hind foot in my pocket....now we are one together. I sinks. Dog sinks. Foot still in pocket. So Gerry jump in the water. Now we have 3 people in the water and the damn boat is drift'n away. By this time, we have drawed a crowd of onlookers....all cheer'n us on.....while I'm still try'n to get that damn dogs foot out my pocket. Needless to say, I survived, Gerry survived and that hunnert pounds dog survived.

Did I ever tell ya bout the time....it were back in bout 1958....I went camp'n. Sleep on the ground an' stuff. Here come this big ol' rattlesnake crawl'n cross ground into my camp....like he gonna make camp with Billy Bob. I don't think so, not on your life. So's I takes this stick an' start pok'n it at him, teas'n an stuff like that. I ain't skeered no snakes ya know. This just piss him off. He coil up gingl'n his rattles and hiss's stuff at me. Well, I ain't gonna have none that, so's I starts hiss'n right back at him. Can you believe he try to bite me a few times? I keep pok'n at him till he finally have enough and he was head for the bushes. Nope, you ain't get'n off that easy....I reaches down an grab his tail and fling him right back in camp. Well yeah I let loose his tail....I ain't that stupit ya know. This went on for bout five minute and that ol' snake just flat give up....lay there on the ground like he was dead or something. Play'n possum that what he was do'n. I turn to walk away an' take one last look. That rattlesnake was gone....poooof, just like that. No snakes were harmed or injured in the writing of this story.

Remember all them chores I was talk'n bout yesterday? Well, I didn't make it past that comfortable couch. Who would have ever figgered that?

Ok....got things to do.....replace a starter ya know.

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Well, that didn't take long. How bout 17 minutes flat to pull and replace a starter?
Portions removed by author....

Now that I got all that done an' did, the wind blow'n up a gale, "what ya gonna do now Billy Bob"?