Hobbies are good

Ok, so I look funny stand'n up there try'n to hit a little white golf'n ball. So what if'n some of 'em go in the woods......I was aim'n over there. Golf ain't for everbody. Some folks get their jollies sit'n on a Deere mow'n a 5 acres of lawn. Others get theirs from knit'n socks. Me? I'm a golfer, that's my thing.

Remember when "mom" sent ya to your room as punishment? Ya start break'n stuff, cuss'n....stuff like that. "Mom" tells ya to go out in the back yard an' "take it out on a tree". Well golf is kinda sorta like that. The feel'n ya get when you "knock hell" out that little ball make ya feel good all over. Takes away all that stress what is builded up in ya. Ya forget all the troubles of your life for the next 4 hours of look'n for balls. I totally enjoy golf. Not just a little bit, but a whole bunch. Golf must be good for me.

Now I'm gonna hit the shower, get all dress up in my finest and meet OFM Barney on the first tee. 
Laters.....
**************************************************************************

Jump'n all over the place...

I checked the water level in my "house" batteries, they were low. When I bought this set of batteries, I promised myself I would never ever let them get low on water. Broken promise.

Before anybody gets the idea that I "runed" (ruined), damaged or caused any undue stress or discomfort to my batteries, the water level was still above the plates. I'm good to go. A quenched thirst battery is a happy battery.

I wish it was that easy......just pack up an' leave. I sit there on the couch last night think'n bout this dreadful situation I got myself into. You know....stuck in the mud in Sinton, Texas. I pretty much decided I'm gonna just sit here an' wait on a tow truck to pull me out. That's bout all I have to say bout that this morn'n.

On the bright side, there ain't no sunshine an' the wind is blow'n. Now who would a ever figger that with storms all over the place, the wind might blow? Look'n down the road a piece, weather wise, it's gonna get better in south Texas....start'n today......maybe....flip a coin. This has been a year I ain't gonna forget very soon. 

I sure have got me a hanker'n to go swak me up some golf balls. Take my gorilla buddy with me. I got to teach that damn gorilla how to putt. If'n ya missed Dizzy Dick's blog post yesterday, ya gotta go see for yerself. He's over there on the right if'n ya didn't already know. Or ya could click right here... Story. You go Dizzy, that was a great story.

Speak'n of blogs....do any of ya read RVSues blog? Well, she's back on line if'n ya didn't know. I got to say, RVSue has turned into quite a boondocker in her little Casita travel trailer. Over there on the right...or ya can click here....RVSue an' Crew.

Did you know....my 2003 "Sally da house" is got headlights out of a old antique Chevy Caprice? That's right, I look up the part number what is stamped on the headlights an' them suckers are 1995 Chevy Caprice headlights. The reason I brought up headlights is, that at night, I cain't see squat go'n down the road. Not that I ever drive in the dark or nuttin like that....there's always the possibility I'll some day night have to. So now, I have one more chore to add to my "to do" list.

Sure do wished old Carney....Oh wait, OFM Barney, would a check with me first before he tear his dashboard slap apart. Any time ya have fan problems on dash air, the first thing ya check is the fan resistor assembly. There's a "American Automobile Air Conditioning Association" rule bout that ya know. But good on old Barney, he got 'er done. Two stroke putt.

Ok....dishes is done, got a broom in my hand....let's do some housework.
Speak'n of broom....I would never ever again in my lifetime, have another carpet in a RV. Carpet sucks.

Junk....this post is junk

I'm at the "hard" turn'n part in my life. Things ain't go'n good.

Ya see, I just don't give a care no more. It's not one them things what pop up one day an' is gone the next. This has been com'n on for quite some time. Little by little, what was once a priority (fun stuff) in my life, just don't matter no more. Oh sure, there's golf ball swak'n an' fish'n, but there's much more to life than that. Shoot, I ain't even been fish'n in bout 6 months. An' even then, I didn't catch nuttin. Just puttered round Falcon Lake in the "bubba boat" try'n to keep Sadie Mae from jump'n out. And golf'n....well you seen the score cards, Barney beats me every time.

Yesterday I was say'n something bout being serious once in a while. Well, I'm serious as a heart attack, I'm tired. Not so much tired, but more like wore slap out. Kind of like a old Ford "flathead" with 200 thousand miles on it. Rods knock'n, wrist pins slap'n the cylinders, rings an' valves all burn up, white smoke com'n out the exhaust pipes....wore slap out. Ain't no mechanic on earth can fix something like that. Not even with duck tape an' WD-40.

Speak'n of duck tape an' WD40, I been think'n bout get'n me a patch up job. But I don't think that gonna happen any time soon. Ya see, the old Billy Bob is skeered to death of some guy wear'n horn rim glasses an' a white robe with a big ol' knife in his hand. I ain't never been in a knife fight before, but that guy is gonna have a fight on his hands with a "crazy" man.

So there ya have it....the gloomy side of another wonderful day.

Now, look'n on the bright side. There ain't no sunshine an' the wind is blow'n a hunnert mile a hour. That makes for a wonderful day....NOT. Oh boy, are we gonna have us some kind of fun today. I could go outside an' fly me a kite....lift my skinny ass plumb off'n the ground into the neighbors yard. Yeah, it's blow'n that hard.....an' that sounds like fun. Grrrrrrrrr.....

I used to make kites for the kids ya know. Make 'em out of bamboo sticks an' brown paper bags. Weren't no plastic Walmart bags back then ya know. Ya had to do with what ever was at hand. But I didn't like reel'n them suckers back in. That take forever wrap'n all that string round a hammer handle. So's I hook 'em up to my big ol' deep sea fish'n poles. Then I make the kids reel 'em back in. They loved it crank'n them fish'n reels, an' I was happy to see their smil'n faces. Parents don't do that shit no more. They got lazy. Buy store bought ones an' let the kids figger 'em out. Grrrrrrr to lazy parents what ain't got no time for their kids.

Have I plumb forgot about my Louisiana trip? Oh hell no, it's sit'n over there on the stove on a back burner simmer'n away. Am I excitis? Hell no. That's the problem, I ain't excitis. I ain't even listen to my cajun music in a few weeks.

Speak'n of cajun music, have ya watch "The Voice"? There ain't no way I could vote for just one of the finalist. But I do have my favorites. They all made the cut last night.....yeee haw!!!

Cajun music cranked up....go'n outside.....laters

Dumpster kind of day

No stories today. Just every day nonsence.

Yesterday I says...."I know what....I think I'll just go outside an' swak me up some golf balls round the yard".

I get all dress up in my "ranch'n" duds an' head out the door. Grabs holt of my sand wedge an' bout half a dozen balls. I'm gonna practice me some 30 yard chips. Well, with all the rains we had, the grass done growed up an' I cain't find them damn balls after I hit 'em. "Now what ya gonna do Billy Bob"?

This morn'n I feels like I fell out of a dumpster. An' I ain't even been in a dumpster.

 All I did was swak some freak'n golf'n balls yesterday. My back an' hip was kill'n me. Make me have some them dad burn leg cramps again last night. At 2:30am an' 4:30am, I was jump'n up an' down on my toes try'n to get me some relief. Go sit on the couch for a hour while the pain goes away. Damn....is it 9:30...."git up Billy Bob".

I sure do like sit'n round sip'n up a cup an' think'n back on all the silly shit crap I did as a youngster. Much younger than what I am today. But my life ain't been all silly shit crap. There's a serious side to the old Billy Bob also.....ya know. But I don't think bout that kind of stuff very often. Just ain't right be'n serious all the time. I always thought "serious" was for educated folks for when they got in some kind of trouble an' they couldn't work it out on their own. I ain't the most educated person alive, but I also ain't stipit an' dumb neither. I'm think'n, the only time to get serious, is when nuttin else works. I can live with that philopisphy...even if'n I cain't spell philosophy. But yes, I am think'n "serious" bout what the hell I gonna do with the rest of my life. But I got to first talk it over with Sadie Mae before I make any drastic changes. Damn I hate change.
"You hear that Obama? I don't like freak'n change". Damn that felt good.....yeee har!!!

Now I must go through all my tax files an' prepare myself for a IRS audit. Hee hee.....that felt good too.



  

Explor'n gold mines 101

I don't think I'll be talk'n bout no sail'n today, but I could tell ya bout the time the Coast Guard catched me sail'n all over Port Aransas harbor at night....without a light. Ya see, I had scored on a dumpster run. Fount me a perfectly good sail'n board somebody had crashed. A little duck tape, it be as good as new.

 Look almost exactly like this one....less the mast an' sail, daggerboard and steer'n wheel. Plus....ya could add a few strips of duct tape here an' there. Of course, the old Billy Bob build all that miss'n stuff out of what ever was available.....plywood, PVC mast and a Walmart special blue tarp for a sail. An' then he go sail'n.

This is for Sissy.
So...me an' Gerry was ride'n round up in the mountains in the old '27 Buick roadster....extra 5 gallon gas can tied in the rumble seat. Up on the side the mountain, there's this old abandoned gold mine......chain link fence strung all around it. A rutted out single lane wagon trail leads up the side of the tailings to the mine tunnel. Tailings are the rocks an' crap from dig'n the tunnel what they dump over the side if the hill. It's worthless so they just let it lay there.

Ok, ya got a pretty good picture of where we at. But ya ain't got no idea what we gonna do. Or do ya???

Gerry says to me, "ya think this old Buick will climb up that trail". I looks an' holy crap, that trail is bout a 30% grade...straight up. Now I had climbed mine tailings before in this here old Buick, but this one sure do look a little bit dangerous to me. Back then, I weren't skeered of nuttin, but I'm hav'n me some second thoughts bout this one. "What if'n we turn over Gerry, we a long ways from home ya know"? Gerry says...."somebody drove up it before....see the tracks".

I shifts that old Buick into granny gear, revs up the engine, we gonna have us a ride up the side that hill. Tires was spinn'n, dirt an' dust fly'n, big ol' rocks roll'n down the hill. We at the top. As Aunt Myrt would say, "Did you boys think bout hav'n to go back down that hill"? We're on level surface, bout the size a small front yard in New York City. Signs of campfires....beer cans strung all over the place. Somebody been up do'n stuff I betcha.

You must remember at this time, mine tunnels go straight into the side of a mountain, mine shafts go straight down.

Anyhows, me an' Gerry climbs through a hole in the chain link fence. Go take a quick look see inside the tunnel. Yikes, it's dark in here. Just so happens, I get a flashlight in the Buick. We walks back in there bout 50 feets or so....more beer cans. A bit further we come upon this shaft go'n straight down. It's dark down there an' that ladder don't look so safe to be climb'n on. Gerry says....you ain't go'n down there....are you"? I says..."well sure, what could possibly go wrong....there could be a treasure down there."

I don't weigh very much, an' I ain't skeered of nuttin that's for damn sure, I steps on the top rung. Bounce round a little bit to make sure it will hold my weight. Then I begin my assent, one bounc'n step at a time. That 4th or 5th step break slap in two, me dangl'n in mid air, hang'n on with two white knuckle hands for dear life. I lose my grip and fall slap on my ass. I look up an' Gerry laugh'n his ass off. What the hell wrong with that boy, I could a kill myself.....it ain't funny. Come to find out, I had only fall 5 feet or less. This damn shaft is only bout 8 feets deep. Cain't find no gold or treasure in a little hole like this. There ain't no tunnel down here to explore, ain't no treasure chest, no skeletons.....ain't nuttin but a blamed hole....with beer cans scattered all over bottom. And I done broke the freak'n ladder with all that bounc'n round.

Go'n down is much more scarier than go'n up. Ya see, you can fall down a hill, but ya can't fall up one. "Hang on Gerry, we go'n for a ride". I got all four wheels locked up go'n down the side that hill....an' we go'n lickity split bout a hunnert mile a hour. I don't recall on the way up, this hill be'n so dad burn far. I'm alive today to write this story, so we made it home without caus'n any damage to property or person. What is say'n a lot.

To this day, I am still fascinated by gold mines and mine tunnels, caves an' stuff like that.

Would I go inside this mine? You can bet your "sweet" (for Dizzy) bippy I would. But a mine "shaft", you better be call'n the Coast Guard, I ain't go'n.

Tom Sawyer?....you betcha

Some times I repeat myself. You know, tell the same story more than one time.

When I was in school....hahahaha....don't say it, one student would tell a short story to another. Then that student would tell it to another. Little details were added at each telling. By the end of the day, that story made it around the entire class. It had changed into a first class fictional novel. The original story was still intact.

So, when ya read one my stories, you will notice I have added a few exotic spices to enhance the flavor. The end product is a delightful pot of flavorful stew soup with all the original ingredients.

Years ago I could sit down and rip out a story to the nieces, nephews, neighbor kids and their parents. "Brother Rabbit" was a favorite. Make it up as the story progressed. I was on government issued drugs at the time, so words came easy. Now that I am no longer on government drugs, I have to rely on writing to tell a story. Samuel Langhorne Clemens (Mark Twain) was that way ya know. But unlike the old Billy Bob, he was a standup orater.

It was Mark Twain that inspired me to tell stories. Take a simple experience an' turn it into a rip snort'n adventure. Spice things up ya know. Not the made up stories like "Brother Rabbit", but the real thing...."The Adventures of Billy Bob".  In my short 71 years, I have learned that YES, you can be Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn. Only problem is, some that stuff them boys did, is illegal now days. You can go to jail ya know. Exorcisms...stuff like that.

My next trip in that little 22 foots sail'n boat occurred on a busy week day in Port Aransas. Holiday weekend I'm think'n....or something like that. Ferry boats were busy transport'n cars from the mainland to the island.

I fired up that little kicker motor an' headed out into the Corpus Christi ship channel. If'n ya ever been to Port A, ya know there ain't no other choice. Look'n both ways for big ol' cargo carry'n ships, I raised the mainsail an' put out the jib. Set course towards the Port Aransas ferry cross'n. I'm go'n a hunnert mile a hour by God.....Yeee haw. 

By now, I had earned my "white" capt's cap for being capable of return'n safely back to dock 10 times in a row without fall'n overboard or crash'n headlong into another boat. I sit back in the cockpit with my chest all pooched out, not a care in the world.....not worry bout a thing. There ain't nuttin but the sound of rush'n water as we skim through moderately choppy seas. Dolphins swim'n long side me, I'm in hog heaven. I'm a "white cap" sail'n boat capt'n.

I round the corner where the ship channel makes a hard left turn. Almost turn over go'n so fast. Bout a quarter mile ahead I see ferry boats scoot'n across my intended course. I got to go through them to get to my destination. This is one case where a sail'n boat has right of way over great big ol' powered vessels. ( It should be noted that the vessel with lesser maneuverability has 'right of way' ) I'm under sail an' clos'n ground fast. "Git the hell out my way....here come the Billy Bob".

WTH (what the hell), the freak'n wind die.....pooof, just like that. Only a slight whisper out of the southeast. I'm sit'n dead in the water, drift'n towards the north ferry land'n. OH shit, what I do now? Well hell, I got me a "white" capt'ns cap, what could go wrong?

Well let me tell ya what could go wrong. Ya could drift up against the bow of that loaded ferry boat for one thing. Then ya could snag up that main sail try'n your damnest to get it down. And then there's always the slim possibility that that 5hp kicker motor won't start. What do ya suppose happen to "white capt'ns hat Billy Bob"??? That's right, all of the above. I'm try'n my damnest not to get hung up under the bow of that ferry boat....what by this time, has bout a hunnert people stand'n round watch'n me with "shit eat'n" grins" on their faces....tak'n pictures, laugh'n an' stuff like that. The ferry boat captain look'n down at me with disgust in his eyes.....wonder'n "what the hell is this fool guy do'n"?

With the sails finally stowed all over the decks of that little 22 foots sail'n boat, I attempt to fire up the kicker motor an' get the hell out of there. I pulls on that starter rope till my arm was bout to fall off.....it don't start. "Billy Bob, turn the gas on". That exactly what I do, turn the damn gas on. Little kicker motor fire right up. Back up out of there lickity split an' head for a hole to crawl into. Was I embarrassed? You can bet yer bippy I was....beet red. What more do ya suppose could happen now after that fiasco?

Motor'n out of that catastrophic event in my quest to regain my composure, calm down a bit an' quit shak'n from head to toe, here come a big ol' gust of wind. What the hell??? Where was this wind when I needed it? "Oh my God....three fog horn blasts". Pee my pants. An' I ain't got no sails up....an' that kicker motor is spit'n an' sputter'n. "White capt'ns hat Billy Bob.....you earned it....think". I calms down, that ship is bout 500 yards up the channel headed in my direction.....do'n a hunnert mile a hour I betcha. Up goes the main sail without a hitch (snag), ship passes me by an' I'm headed my ass back to dock. Tie this sucker up an' ain't never gonna sail no more.
But I did......more sail'n stories to come.   
  

Cap't Barnacle Bill an' his sail'n machine

Where ya wanna go today? How bout a boat ride?

Back in bout '93 or 94, I bought me up a sail'n boat. It weren't no wheres as big as the "BIG" sail'n boat I lived on for 7 years. It was a 22 foots Catalina with a great big ol' 5 HP motor hang'n off the back.

Look exactly like this one....only it weren't sit on top the water. It were sunk. Hang'n on the mooring lines, water up to the winders. What the hell, nobody buys a sunk boat. I got it floated and fix that big ol' 5 hp motor hang'n off the back. Hot damn, the old Billy Bob (Barnacle Bill at the time) is gonna be a sail'n boat captain.

I ain't never sail no boat before, this gonna be a new experience. A experience what turn into a death defying adventure real quick like.

I unties all the moor'n lines, fires up that "kicker" motor an' head out to the high seas....Corpus Christi ship channel. Notice I say "ship channel". There's big ol' ships out there. Great big ships. Anyhows, once I motor out to the ship channel, I prepare to raise the main sail. That mean I got to let loose my white knuckle grip on the tiller (steer'n wheel). Rock jettys over there bout a hunnert feets away, an' all kind of boats pass'n by me all over the place. I'm drift'n....motor turn off an' ain't nobody steer'n the boat. I'm sit dead in the water. I start pull'n on this rope an'' the main sail start to raise. Hot damn, that a pretty sight. Then it stop, half ways up. The damn thing got a snag in it an' I cain't reach it. I'm head'n off in the direction of rocks. I works up a good sweat cuss'n an' stuff....pull'n on that rope. Yeee Haw, up goes the sail an' it catches some wind. I fiddle round with some stuff an' finally get 'er go'n on a straight course, right down the middle of the ship channel.

I sits back in the cockpit, chest all poke out, feet prop up, I'm one proud sail'n boat captain whistl'n "Barnacle Bill the Sailor". I ain't been "sail'n" for but a few minutes an' bout that time I hears a loud ass fog horn blow'n, blast'n that sucker three times (3 blasts is a warn'n "git the hell out my way"). I looks back behind me an' HOLY SHIT, there's a great big ass oil tanker ship bear'n down on me, do'n bout 20 knots (nautical term for "a hunnert mile a hour"). If'n ya ain't never been up close to a big ol' ship in a little sail'n boat, ya don't know what pee'n yer pants is. It were huge, bigger than 3 football fields an' a hunnert feets high. YIKES....come on wind.

With a little cuss'n an' adjust'n stuff, that ship go on by me like I was stand'n still. I were skeered half to death, shak'n all over. But it was over....big ol' ship gone, poooof, just like that. Well now, if'n I can out maneuver a ship in close quarters, I'm think'n I can sail this thing.

Sit'n back in the cockpit, chest all poke out, I decide to change course....head up the Lidia Ann channel. A sailboat passes me on the left. A man hollers...."have a good day". Have a good day? Did you see that shit out there in the middle of the channel? I almost got my ass run over by a freak'n ship. That ain't a good day. Off to the north, up the Lidia Ann channel, I see what appears to be a super Walmart headed my way. It's a double wide stacked set of barges.....go'n a hunnert mile a hour. An' he get'n closer. An' I'm in his sights, dead center of the channel. I think I pee my pants again at this time. Well shoot, if'n I can miss a ship, why can't I miss a set of big ass barges?

Bout this time I'm think'n "to hell with sail'n". After danger had passed us by, I grabs holt to the tiller an' heads back towards dock. Back into that "big ass" ship channel. "Fog horn Billy Bob, I hear a fog horn".  I'm go'n bout 2 mile a hour, against the wind and the incoming current in the channel. What would a seasoned sail boat captain do? Fire up the little 5 hp motor an' get the hell out the way. 

Back at the dock I tie up all the moor'n lines, steps back with a poked out chest and proclaim "I'm a sail'n boat captain".

This is a true story from the first day I decided I was gonna learn to sail in a sunk sailboat up until the day I decided to buy a bigger sail'n boat. I have more "adventures" in my quest to learn to sail this little 22 foot sail'n boat, but will leave them for another day.

Attack of the "killer needle nose"

Boy howdy it's hard to get a good nights sleep when stuff is bite'n on ya.

As usual, I made my way to the bedroom right at midnight. I weren't really sleepy, but I wanted to get up early this morn'n. I was lay'n there toss'n an' turn'n.... think'n bout stuff....an' something bite me. What the hell? I turns on the light an' there it was, a big ol' needle nose skeeter buzz'n round the room. I ain't talk'n bout no little pigmy skeeter, I'm talk'n a full grown needle nose blood suck'n fly'n machine. He sound like a weed-eater fly'n round the room.

I don't know bout anybody else, but when I get bit on by a skeeter, I hurt. Get a big ol' welt bout the size a quarter.....itch like hell. I been knowed to scratch my skin slap off when one them blood suckers bite on me. Then I got to put a band aid on it so's I don't bleed to death.
Anyhows, I lay there for bout a hour let'n them skeeters bite on me till I couldn't take it no more. I need relief. I looks in the med cabinet.....ain't got a thing but toothpaste an' alcohol. Then I got to think'n.....wonder what Walmart Ultra Strength Pain Relieving Cream will do for a skeeter bite. So's I smears some on. Well I'll be damn....the itch'n stop in less than 10 minutes an' I go right to sleep. Ya gotta love Walmart stuff.

Since I didn't get much sleep last night an' I got up a little late, what am I gonna do bout swak'n golf balls today? My plan was to be at the golf course bright an' early (10am) an' be swak'n balls by 10:30. I'm think'n that ain't gonna happen 'cause it's 10:15 now. Maybe I'll go later if'n the wind don't get no worse.

Oh, before I forget.....I'm a grandpa. 

Anthony Ryan Piepmeier 7lb 15oz 20.5". Borned yesterday afternoon. 

For me, it ain't no big thing when a grandbaby is born. It ain't like it's my first ya know. I'm think'n Anthony is #23 or 24. With that many grandbabies, ain't gonna be long till I got me a whole bunch of great grandbabies. Yeah.....I'm a proud grandpa this morn'n. 

I didn't do nuttin funny yesterday. Bout all I did was lay on the couch hug'n my toe an' massag'n that sore leg muscle. Damn cramps. Made a attempt to walk out to the old VW Vanagon/Westfalia or what ever, but only make it bout half ways. Damn that leg an' toe hurts. Anyhows, I'm on the heal.....slow but steady. Sure do wish I knowed some way of fix'n my messed up back.....short of surgery that is. Surgery skeers hell out me. 

Ok.....that's it.....ain't got nuttin to talk bout. Laters.

Dag nab it....I'm bored

Ya ain't gonna be get'n much out of the old Billy Bob this morn'n. Not only did I do nuttin yesterday, I didn't think bout nuttin neither. This is get'n old.

I tell Sadie Mae, "wanna go for a ride?". Lickity split she go out the door....ain't com'n back inside for nuttin. Once on the road, she lay down an' go to sleep. So why the hell was she sooo excitis to go for a ride an' then all she do is go to sleep?

We pull into Walmart an' pick up my meds. My God, $80. Jump back in "that jeep" an' head across the street to Barneys house. He's paint'n golf balls or something like that......multi color paint all over his fingers. We chit chat for a few an' I got to hit the road. Places to go....things to do. RIGHT!!!! I went back to "da house" an' lay my ass on the couch. That muscle in my right leg hurt so bad I thought I was gonna die. DAYUM.....I need some relief.

I was gonna drive across the ferry boat to Port Aransas to pick up my mail, but ain't nuttin in the mail but a bank statement and monthly investment statement. I ain't been spend'n no money, so I have a pretty good idea....I ain't broke yet. Be'n that Port Aransas is a "hot spot" for tourist on holidays, I figgered I would wait till the holiday was over to pick up mail. Ya don't want to wait in a mile long ferry line when it's 94 degs outside. It's best to come back next week or early in the morn'n. I don't do "early in the morn'n", so it's next week.

Speak'n of golf. After what I went through the other day, I was think'n I would put my golf'n clubs on Craigslist and hang it up.....never play again. Well, that thought didn't last very long. I can't give up golf. I ain't broke 80 yet an' golf is the only exercise I get.
Me an' Barney was talk'n bout go'n golf'n this Friday an' he flat chicken out.....bak bak bak cluck cluck cluck.....holiday ya know. Well, the golf course is only 5 minutes from "da house"....I'm gonna go look see Friday morning how crowded they are. I need the exercise ya know.    

Nephew Joseph is home for a couple days from the oil fields. First thing he do this morn'n is cook me some breakfast. Couple over easy, bacon an' perfectly toasted an' buttered white bread. Now he's outside pull'n the oil pan off'n the 1 ton Dodge pick up. Says it's got a oil leak. Shoot, when I was a youngster, a oil leak was a simple way to change oil. Put in a quart every few days an' ya always have fresh oil.

Mid week doings

Whoooeeee, blogger sure is slow this morn'n. Didn't think I would ever get this far to make a post. Even had to sign in again....an' that took over 10 minutes. "What's up Margaret"???

Yesterday I was hurt'n, an' hurt'n ain't so funny. I ain't got over it yet. Ya see, ever time I get leg cramps, my calf muscles get all sore....hurt like hell. Feel like somebody walk up behind me an' kick me in the calf with steel toe shoes on. That what it feel like this morn'n anyhows. And I got to make a trip here in a bit.

Yesterday I was gonna go to Aransas Pass and pick up my meds at Walmart. Well they still in Aransas Pass this morn'n. I been slap out of my drugs for 3 days now. Well, not all of 'em.....just some. I take a blood pressure medication what I suppose just thins my blood so I don't get clogged up somewheres. Then I take Plavix what is another blood thinner. Don't know what it does, but when I don't take it, I know it. Then I have to take a aspirin every day, what is another blood thinner. Holy crap, no freak'n wonder I bleed like a stuff hog every time I get a tiny scratch. Dang, thin blood sucks.
As far as I'm concerned, the med that controls my tachycardia attacks, Coreg, is the most important to me. If ya ever sit there with your heart pump'n 160 beats a minute, ya know what I'm talk'n bout. Skeers hell out me. 

I get a kick out of these "wonder drug" commercials ya see on TV. Spend 1 minute tell'n ya how beneficial their drug is and then turn around and for the next two minutes tell ya bout a hunnert reasons why not to take it (side effects). How the hell can ya benefit from a drug what is gonna kill ya? I seen one the other day what said it could cause cancer in some users. What the hell???

Dad gum news from Washington an' all the scandals what are go'n on is a bit disturb'n if'n ya ask me. But then when ya roll back time to the late 1800's,  ya got the same thing go'n on back then. But I do get a kick out of how Obama is handel'n the situation....keep'n his lips tight an' don't say nuttin. That's food for thought.

More political news. I been watch'n the news on the tornado what hit Moore, Ok. What a sad affair that is. It takes some dedicated people to live in "tornado ally" like that. Some of 'em say they gonna rebuild. If'n it was me, I would be truck'n it to a safer place where there ain't no tornados. But, here's what I'm rant'n bout...Red Cross. Some of ya may not agree, but I remember Red Cross in 9/11, Katrina, New Jersey, Haiti.....the list goes on. Where the hell did all my money go? They don't even know. It's gone.....poooof, just like that. It didn't go to the people that you donated it for. Google 'Red Cross scandals'.

Ok, I'm done with todays political news. Got to get all slick up an' head for town. Slim chance I may even hook up with the OFM Barney for a late lunch. 

Oh my, I should a stay home

This is a continuation of yesterdays quote of "Billy Bob, you a idiot". Now why somebody would say something like that amazes me. Oh wait.....I said that.

Ya see, it's like this.....I don't always make the soundest of judgements...or in this case, decisions. Any doctor with a degree of some sort, even a veterinarian, would never suggest a "quick round of golf" acceptable in my latest condition. I thought I was gonna die. Hurted everwheres.

After I had swak my first three balls, I knowed I was in deep trouble. Them balls didn't go nowheres close to where I was aim'n at. Who the hell in their right mind would aim at trees? Out of 18 tee shots, I had one (1) ball land in the fareway.....probly bounced off'n a tree. By the time we reached the 16th hole, I was ready to give it up. Send Barney on to finish the last 3 holes and come back an' pick me up. I was beat up from that big toe all the ways up to the top my head. Hobble round the golf course look'n for my poorly struck golf balls like some kind of old cripple, or something like that. I thought I was gonna die.

OFM Barney don't know it, but the old Billy Bob farted 4 times while we was sit'n there in that Mexican restaurant. Although he did look at me kind of funny one time. Give me one them "Oh God, you didn't fart did ya?" looks. We had us some pretty dag gum good eat'n even if'n I do say so myself. The coffee was a close balance between fair an' sucks. 

 Well anyhows....after I got back to "da house" to lay down on the couch to pamper my wounds....I thought I was gonna die. My legs start cramp'n, that dad gum big toe was all swoled up an hurt'n and I fart a couple more times. A soothing nap was out of the question. It was a aspirin, alka seltzer, foot bath, muscle massage kind of afternoon.

Since I was supposed to go to Walmart in Aransas Pass yesterday to pick up my meds, I might head over that way this afternoon. This don't fit the 'procrastination' theory, but let me tell ya right now, I do knows how to procrastinate. For those who don't know how, it's so freak'n easy it would make your head spin. Ya just don't do it, put it off...until a later date. Works for me. It could work for you. 

Ok, I ain't got nuttin I'm gonna do....laters.

Monday golf day.....enjoy it

First off...Walmart sucks. Well, not Walmart as a whole, just the pharmacy dept. what don't know what they do'n. Well, maybe they know what they do'n, ....it's the computers. Ain't gonna go into details, but I got to make that long driver back to Aransas Pass today to pick up my meds.......Grrrrrrrr!!!!

Speak'n of Aransas Pass, that old Barney found hisself a very nice RV park. We was sit'n outside jaw'n back an' forth an' the only noise ya could hear was com'n from each other. There weren't no dust fly'n all over the place. Everbody has a pretty little green lawn. Big ol' concrete slabs to park on. Holy crap, that's my kind of place. An' there's trees all over the place.
"Dag gum it Billy Bob, ya forgot the camera". 

I don't get excitis much anymore, but this morn'n I so excitis I can hardly contain myself. Gonna meet up with OFM Barney at the golf ball swak'n place in a hour. Ain't gonna be no easy game this time around. The wind is already kick'n up. But what the hell, the wind has blowed before.

Ok, go to get myself all slicked up an' head on down the road a piece. "Gonna hit that ball so far it gonna take a week to find it". 

******************************************************************************
Update:

Oh hell no................"Billy Bob, you a idiot"

Walmart run

"OK Billy Bob, just take a look at what ya done went an' done". Ya see, it's like this, my security program, or what ever ya wanna call it, suggested I update. Since it was free, I click this button. Then I have to go back an' "fix" stuff what got messed up.

I had every intention yesterday to go to town. I'm talk'n, I was ready. Had on clean underdrawers, hair all slicked back, sandals all shined up....I was ready. Boy howdy, "I was ready" didn't last very long. Lately I ain't been want'n to go nowheres. Just sit on the couch look'n at a TV screen with nuttin on worth look'n at. The old Billy Bob is at a all time low in his life when he sits there watch'n cook'n an' garden'n shows all day long. Don't ya just love "Create TV"?

So now today, I got to go to town. Walmart that is. I got one day of meds left.....need refills. The closest Walmart is just down the road a piece bout 15 miles or so, but I have a choice of many Walmarts. One in Rockport. One in Aransas Pass. One in Portland. Bout a dozen in Corpus Christi (3 I think). And the closest in Calallen. When ya shop'n for drugs, you can go to any of 'em. Of course, I could use a few grocery items too. Get'n tired of eat'n moldy bread an' sour milk. I like the HEB here in Sinton, but they ain't got a bakery. I want some donuts. Ummmm....donuts!

I assassinated one them pesky sneaky little mice last night. I was sit'n there on the couch watch'n some crap on the TV an' I hear a "pop". What the hell was that? I check the mouse trap what I put under the dashboard an' there he was. A dead mouse in the trap. Stink'n little bastard ain't gonna be chew'n on MY wires no more. Now if'n I can just catch his brothers, sisters, cousins an' "in laws", I'll be happy. There's got to be an easier way.

Well, the humidity an' warm nights has finally hit the coastal bend. I know what it's like when this happens 'cause I lived here for 20 years. Ya don't sleep at night. Not with the a/c turn off anyhows. Last night was no exception. Think'n I would save a quarter, I turn the a/c off before go'n to bed. By 1:30am, I would have give a hunnert dollar to be comfortable. I get up, turn on the a/c an' sit on the couch till 4am watch'n more crap on TV. That why I didn't get up this morn'n till 9:30. Sheesh, I got me one excit'n life.

Ok....clean underdrawers, a fresh shirt an' Wranglers, sandals all shine up, hair all slick back in a ponytail....let's go to Walmart. No, Sadie Mae don't get to go. Too hot to leave her in the car even with the winders roll down. It's summer in south Texas.   

don't shoot no guns inside "da house"

Well....no. I didn't get to go play a round of golf yesterday. I was heart broken.

Ya see, by the time a refresh'n shower had been attended to, the winds picked up to more than a slight breeze. We talk'n bout 20 mile a hours gale force winds. Blowed the "billy bike" slap over, awning flap'n in the wind, that "damn goat" want'n in "da house" for relief.....yup, the wind was blow'n. Well, maybe it weren't all that bad, but it were enough for a "excuse". Sides that, I were skeered of being stranded on the 15th hole with a swoled up foot. Still a bit to early to be tak'n chances like that.

Oh Oh....we have a problem Houston. I were sit'n here at the computer this morn'n.....sip'n up a cup and read'n blogs. Out the corner my eye I spy a movement. It's a damn mouse. In broad daylight. He come run'n across the floor lickity split for the kitchen. When he see me, he come to a screech'n halt, turn tail an' he gone....pooof, just like that. Back up under the dashboard where I got a gazillion wires an' other eatable components. I got one them electronic critter deterrent gizmo thingys, but apparently, the damn thing don't work. So now, how the hell am I gonna get that mouse to find a better home somewheres else? I thought bout shoot'n his ass, but the first rule of RV'n is...."don't shoot no guns inside "da house".

Now the reason I say that....a few year back, my son Robert got into my firecrackers. I got some "big'uns" what sound just like a big ol' gun. Robert fire one them things up to toss out the door. He weren't no Little League baseball player, so he miss the door by a couple feet. "Big'un" firecracker lay'n on the floor, fuse burn'n fast. That sucker go off with a loud "BOOOM" what make yer ears ring like gingle bells around Christmas time. That why ya "don't shoot no guns inside da house".

I don't know bout anybody else, but have ya notice the flys? "Sally da house" is full of 'em. Hunnerts of 'em. Don't know where they all come from, but them suckers has got to go. I done wear out a brand span'n new fly swapper an' use up a half a can of spray in two days....an' they are back the next day. I even had to close the door so's they wouldn't come back in. NOTE: They are back again this morn'n. Flys suck.

And then....I got to think'n bout blog posting. The most interest'n blogs I read, contain "daily life experiences". Tell a little bit about the writer....what they do, did an' done. How they feel, what ails 'em....stuff like that. Blogs are for shar'n with others. Before ya know it, ya got a whole family of viewers. Look at your side bar....see all them followers?.....they want to know. What's my take on "cut an' paste"? Not a whole bunch....but that don't mean I don't read 'em. I know that behind every cut an' paste, there is a real person want'n to "come out".

Hot damn it's a beautiful day outside today. That what I said bout yesterday too. Other than the wind an' "hot", south Texas is hav'n beautiful weather. Speak'n of hot....yesterday got up to somewheres bout 96 degs here at "da house"...accord'n to Walmart special temp thingy. Damn I still think that thing lies to me. It's 94 degs as I type this....accord'n to that damn unpredictable Walmart special temp thingy. A nice 20 mile a hour breeze out the SSE......great for "bubba" boat'n an' kayak'n. An' golf ball swak'n. Or any other outdoor activity where ya don't mind stuff blow'n all over the place. Have ya ever see a tent take off in the wind? That's funny. Sucker go a mile before it settle down for you to retrieve it. Run over little kids play'n on the beach....stuff like that.

Well, that's it for today. I got two days to get my foot right for Mondays golf swak'n with OFM Barney. If'n he wins me, I have a excuse to fall back on. Like old "pesky neighbor" Wayne used to say...."my author-itis is bother'n me today".   

 

Liv'n happily in poverty

I look at my blog header picture.....that's nice. A comfortable boondock'n campsite located in the middle of no where. No electric an' no water....nice. Southern California at "the slabs bout 2010".

So why did I make the decision to live in a house on wheels in the first place? Why not a studio apartment with a BMW sit'n in the driveway? Why didn't I go to college an' get me some of that "yuppy" education so I could get me a high paying job? Why didn't I buy me a 4 bedroom Colonial style house next door to the Jones.....with a big ol' swim pool in the back yard? Why did I choose the life of poverty over one of the 2%? I could have been one of the 2% ya know.....if'n I had wanted to.

For many years I been ask'n myself them questions. The only answer I came up with is that "I've been happy" with just get'n by. Mr Jones ain't never been happy with his fancy cars an' stuff....and that big ol' swim pool in the back yard. He spent his whole life try'n to out do Mr Rockenfelter next door to him. Mr Rockenfelter weren't happy neither 'cause he was try'n to out do his other neighbor, Dr. Margaret Fiddleburger. Ya see what I'm talk'n bout? It's better to be happy with you life than to spend in in jealousy over what your neighbor has.

Now I ain't say'n that my life has been a big ol' bed of red roses. I had me some good times an' I had me some bad. I been all the ways down to the bottom of the barrel a few time, pick'n out what little morsels I could find. I didn't want to live like them people in that subdivision on the other side of town. I didn't want to owe more than I could earn in a lifetime. I wanted to be free....and that exactly what I am. I don't owe nobody nuttin. I got a couple dollars in the bank. I got a "home" what has wheels on it, an' I can do most anything I damn well please. Like....if'n I was want'n to, I could go play me a round of golf this afternoon.....with my "poverty" golf'n sticks (clubs).

Speak'n of golf. It's absolutely beautiful in south Texas again today. There ain't no wind, so there's a good possibility that by 1pm, you can find the old Billy Bob hobbl'n round on the golf course swak'n up little white golf'n balls. The swell'n has gone down on my foot and I been able to get around pretty good with out holler'n "MOMS".

This is yesterday's swell'n, not today's.
Niece Emma has been help'n me out for the last few days. Dishes, laundry, sweep the floor....stuff like that. Fix me something to eat. She's been a welcome help. "Emma, fix me a sammich an' bring me a beer".
No, I don't drink no beer. Quit that shit long time ago. Beer costed me too much in my lifetime. Don't do that no more. But.....I been want'n some that dark beer here lately. I useta like the hell out of dark beer.....well, any beer for that matter. Got throwed out of AA one time 'cause I showed up drunk. Just kidd'n, AA took up too much beer drink'n time. Best thing I ever did was to quit drink'n beer to extreme. Stagger round not know'n where you at....do stupit shit.

Speak'n of get'n drunk an' stagger round. I use to hang round pool halls an' bars with pool tables. I was a good pool shot, especially when I was snockered. We played for money. Not high dollar, but many time I go home with over a hunnert dollars hang'n out my pockets. Of course, there was many times my pockets was flat empty too. All total my days of play'n pool, I'm probably down bout $5000....give or take. Can ya make a liv'n play'n pool. NO!

Ok, got things to do....laters.


 

Gotta do something....anything

Boy howdy, sit'n round all day do'n nuttin sure do get boring.

The ol' big toe is much better this morn'n, although there is still swell'n. At this point I don't give a flip if'n it's broke or not. It will heal either way. But what condition is it gonna be in onest it heal? Ya know I already have arthur-itis, gout or some kind of crud in my right foot. That why I cain't wear no shoes like "normal" people do. Is it gonna be worse when all of this is over? I sure don't want to be hobbl'n round on a walker or ride'n in one them Walmart electric go carts when I go shop'n.

I 'member when I had my heart surgery, I rode them handicap golf'n carts at Walmart. Boy howdy you talk bout hav'n some fun.....Yeeee Har....here come the Billy Bob. Bump into all kind of stuff. Piss regular shoppers off go'n down the middle of the aisle. I wonder if'n when you get temporary handicapped if'n it affects your mind too. Ya don't drive down the middle of the aisle an' ya don't purposely run into other shoppers. Sheesh!

When I was in a VA hospital for 3 weeks from a back injury, they give me a brand spank'n new wheelchair to ride around in. I mean to tell ya, this was a smooth run'n wheelchair. But I didn't ride in it. I walk behind it....use it for support ya know. Another feller had him a "old" wheelchair. Wheels squeeked, paint was peel'n, brakes didn't work....that kind of stuff. Well, this guy steal my wheelchair one day while I was sleep'n....an' leave me his old piece of junk wheelchair. If'n ya ever been to a VA hospital, ya know that the first thing they do is "dope" ya up. I think thay call that "patient control" or something like that. Anyhows, I was all "doped up" an' went look'n for my wheelchair. When I fount it, that "grand theft wheelchair" guy turn white as a sheet. He was busted....I catched his ass sit'n in my brand spank'n new wheelchair.  I were swing'n one them aluminum canes with 4 feet on it an' cuss'n up a storm. Dope induced ya know. I got my chair back all right, but the damn VA police....security or what ever they was put me in a room all by myself for a few hours. A bed, no winders to look outside an' me strapped in my brand spank'n new wheelchair. They said it was the "cool'n down room".  

 I ain't been think'n bout much other than a round of golf ball swak'n. Now let me 'splain something bout golf ball swak'n. It ain't got nuttin to do with go'n out there beat'n the other guy or nuttin like that. It's all bout how freak'n far ya can swak that little white ball with your driver. It's something that brings out the "macho" in ya....poke yer chest out, stuff like that. "I hit that ball so far it gonna take a week to find it". That what I'm talk'n bout. It's a personal thing. Your one chance to beat yourself.  Did ya know that the "Holy Grail" for a amateur golfer is to break 80. Break'n 80 is to score under 80....not 80. The closest I ever come to the "Holy Grail" was 80 when me an' old "pesky neighbor" Wayne was play'n together. That was before I had heart surgery an' old "pesky" almost died. I came }{ this close.

Today is a beautiful day. Temp is hang'n round bout 89 degs, sun is shin'n an' bout 12 mile a hour sooth'n breeze. There just ain't no way ya could ask for a better day.

"how much this gonna cost"????

My foot is wide and fat. That's the best I can describe it this morn'n.

I was sit'n there on  the couch yesterday an' I got to look'n at my pooor ol' toe. "That ain't supposed to be that big Billy Bob". Then I got to look'n at my whole foot. That ain't supposed to be that big neither. My freak'n foot is all swoled up. I diped it in hot water a few times think'n that would bring the swell'n down. Nope.....didn't help. BUT.....it don't hurt like it did the day before. Bout a #5 on the pain scale (little bastard with a hammer beat'n on my foot). "Somebody git this guy off'n me".

I been think'n bout that Louisiana trip. Damn, I ain't excitis no more like what I was a week ago. I'm think'n I don't need to be mak'n no plans for a trip. If'n I get me a wild hair to go somewheres, just go. No plans. No research. No nuttin....just go. Or not go at all.

Lot of RV'ers base their travels on "how much this gonna cost?". I ain't never done that in 11 years of RV'n. Cost don't matter. Pay as you go. Even fuel costs don't matter. I seen whole families jump on a big ol' 747 airplane an' fly across the country to see Grandma, never once think'n bout how much it gonna cost. But ya stick them in a little pop up camper for a week-end camp'n trip an' they whine, bitch an' moan bout "how much this gonna cost" for fuel an' something to eat.

Money don't matter....ya gonna spend it anyhows. Don't get me wrong now, I ain't got money stick'n out all my pockets or nuttin like that. I'm a "poor ol' boy" just like some the rest of ya. Social Security an' a small retirement check every month. Poverty level....that what it are. I just learn how to stay within my means and still be happy.

I learned me a failsafe way to save money. 'Don't spend it'. Works every time. Ya see, when ya boondock camp, ya don't have to pay rent to some hi dollar RV' Resort.....it's free, money in the pocket. When ya camp at nephew's "El Rancho Abraham RV Park an' Goat Farm", ya don't pay no rent.....more money in the pocket. When ya eat balony an' hot dogs, ya don't have to pay for T-bone steak an' lobster tails. I live on the cheap. I save money by liv'n on the cheap. That why I don't worry bout "how much this gonna cost?" when I fire up "Sally da house" an' head down the road a piece.

I were think'n yesterday bout head'n up the Texas coast, camp'n at a few places along the way. Maybe a stop in Galveston. I lived in Galveston back in the 60's ya know. Catched my neighbors car on fire "fix'n" something on the motor. Boy howdy was my neighbor jump'n up an' down. Good thing I had firefight'n train'n in the Navy. I can fix anything....an' know how to put the fire out.

Last time I was in Galveston, I couldn't find no place to camp. Got throwed out of a big grocery store park'n lot at 3 oclock in the morn'n. Park on the seawall, what surrounds Galveston, an' here come the cops....."git out, no camp'n". Park down on the beach an' here come a hunnert wild kids hav'n a party till 3am. Ya know how that went....right? I'm think'n Galveston ain't RV friendly. Anyhows, I'm just think'n.

Sure do hope I'm fit for a round of golf Friday afternoon. If not, I rekon there's always Monday. I'll go Monday if'n I feel like it or not. I got me a challenge ya know. Oh wait.....weather permit'n.   

Big toe recovery

How do ya make a short post when ya got a mind that just "keeps on tick'n"? I had thought bout Timex when I said that, but done forgot what that damn rabbit said. It WAS a rabbit....right?

So how's the big toe? This morn'n it's much better, thank ya very much. How much better I don't have the slightest idea 'cause I don't know what "pain" numbers mean. You know what I'm talk'n bout....them numbers the doctor ask ya when he wants to know how much pain you in. Anybody with a lick of sense knows that number "0" mean you feel'n like ya got the world by the tail. I don't recall ever be'n a number "0" in my entire life. So....if'n you stand'n on a railroad track an' get run over by a train...is that a number 10??? If ya live through it that is.  Would dead be a number 13? Or from the doctors standpoint, be a number "0"? See what I'm talk'n bout? Them numbers are screwed up.

Sunday night I was lay'n there on the couch. The ol' toe was feel'n a bit better. So's I go to bed think'n a good night rest would fix all that ails me. Then the throb'n starts. With every beat of my heart, some little bastard smaks my toe with a hammer. Sit up, lay down, sit up, lay down....look for the little bastard with the hammer. The rest of the night was spent on the couch. Soak'n, sit'n up, lay'n down, still look'n for that little bastard with the hammer.

Right bout 8am, I was finally able to close my eyes an' fall into a deep sleep. Sadie Mae jump up on the couch, land on that toe an' it all start over again. Sadie Mae had waked up "the little bastard". Throughout the day the poor ol' big toe began to feel much better. Some of the swell'n went down. I could walk on my right foot....Yeee Haw Billy Bob....you gonna live.

Slept all night (Monday) in the bed. Only waked up one time to pee. So I rekon I'm on the heal. But I sure as hell ain't gonna push it an' go danc'n or nuttin like that.

Holy crap.....did ya look at the weather thingy? It's summer already in some parts of the country. It was rather warm at "da house" here in the Texas coastal bend. Accord'n to my Walmart special temp thingy, it was 94 degs yesterday afternoon. What I do believe lies to me on the warmer days. I don't trust the accuracy of electronic gadgets made in China.

I don't rekon many of ya been watch'n "The Voice"? The old Billy Bob has an' let me tell ya...."Holy Shit, them kids can sing". If'n they was to ask me to choose just one for a winner, I couldn't do it. As much as I like country music an' country music be'n red blooded American music, that chick with the horn rim glasses.....Wow Boy Howdy. There gonna be some upcom'n stars come out of all this competition.

I'm out of here....just see that little bastard with the hammer. I'll feed his ass with a couple 500mg Bayer.
Laters....

UPDATE....Broke toe or not

Dang, I broke my big toe. That what I thought anyhows. Ya see, bout 5:30 this morn'n I notice it were cold in "da house", 64 degs. My feet were cold stick'n out the bottom of my "summer" blankie. I got a cramp in my secondary leg. That's the left one ya know. I scramble out of bed....fall flat on my ass. In the process, my right big toe slam head long into the hardwood floor. I hear a crack, or what sound like a crack an' my big toe start scream'n in pain. I cain't get up...."where's the beef" or something like that. My left leg is still got a cramp in it an' the right one ain't work'n. I crawls down the hall, voic'n my opinion....cuss'n words an' stuff, an' grabs holt to the bathroom door handle thingy for leverage. 

Well, I might as well stay up since I hobbled my way to the kitchen. Brewed me up a pot, sit down on the couch sip'n up a cup....an' hugged my big toe. By now, 8am, if'n it was broked, it would be as big as a sore thumb. But it ain't. I won't be do'n no hikes in the woods today.

One other reason I won't be do'n no hikes today....it's rain'n. I'm tell'n ya right now, weather has got a thing against us older people. I remember back when I was just a little tyke, if'n it rained, we was out in it play'n all sorts of fun games. Splash'n through mud puddles....barefooted, stuff like that. Get all sop'n wet. "Moms" holler'n, "Billy, get out of that mud puddle fore I wear you out". Rain was good back then.

Bout 3 or 4....maybe 5 year ago, rain follow me around everwhere I go. I were under a black cloud that year. I went to the "slabs" to spend the winter. It rained. My front yard was a lake.....what was named "Lake Billy Bob". NOTE! Somewhere's is a whole year of lost photos....gone, pooof, just like that. Well, I guess I have no proof of my own lake. Maybe in a earlier blog. I'll check an' get back with ya.

 See....I tole you I would find it.
But anyhows, that year rain was my worst enemy. I would travel mile after mile in beautiful weather, set up camp somewheres, an' the next day it would rain all holy hell. Some were just a little gusher shower.....bout half a inch, something like that. Just enough to make mud pies an' float a boat. Others were torrential....ya don't even wanna think bout go'n outside. It happened every where I went that year....2007 or 08 I think it was. Rain sucks.

I were sit'n there on the couch watch'n golf. Sadie Mae says...."HEY WAKE UP, what's for supper"? How bout a big ol' pot of Billy Bob Beef Stew Soup?

That's bout two gallon of soup in that there pot. Tastes pretty good if'n I do say so myself. Ain't the best, but it'll do. Sadie Mae says it's excellent.....long as it ain't got no dry dog kibbles in it.

*******************************************************************************
4pm update:
Ok, I think I may have made a poor diagnosis of my poor ol' big toe. Now I'm think'n it is broke....or a severe jam.

 It swoled up pretty good.

Been very painful all day since this morn'n. Cain't move it without a bunch of pain. Well, I can move it with my fingers, scream "MOMS"....if'n that means anything. Cain't do no walk'n on it at all. Warm water soak and ice packs didn't help. How do ya fix a broke toe if it's really broke?
 Anyhows, I'm gonna stay off'n it for a couple days....see what happens.

Saturday already???

Boy howdy, there been a bunch of talk on the blogs bout not be'n able to do stuff no more. They all have one thing in common....they older folks. When I says older folks, I ain't talk'n bout no 60 year old. 60 year old folks is all full of piss an' vinegar...energy to spare. After that, it's a downhill trek....stumbl'n over rocks, fall'n down, aches an' pains, heart pound'n a hunnert mile a hour....cain't breath. Stuff like that.

Days turn into weeks......poooof, just like that. Here it is Saturday already an' I ain't even got my last Monday chores done yet. I really ain't got no daily chores, but was just mak'n a point that I ain't done nuttin since last Monday. What little I got to do, can be done in bout a hour or two.....or less if'n I don't take no smoke an' coffee breaks. But I don't mind step'n over stuff lay'n on the floor, so what's the hurry?

I bet ya folks think the old Billy Bob is a disgust'n trash bag kind of guy what live in a disgust'nly filthy house. Well, I ain't.....I'm tidy. Not "spic an' span" kind of tidy, but I knows where everthing is what I layed down. Well, everthing but in the kitchen. I done give up on that thing.

 There jist ain't no hope for a "bachelor pad" kitchen.

You think State Parks are expensive in Texas, you should check out Louisiana. I'm think'n if'n I goes to Louisiana, I ain't gonna be stay'n no state parks. Research has bout wored me slap out, so "that's all I have to say bout that"....Gump. "So what ya gonna do Billy Bob". I don't know...go to the golf course an' "B-slap" a golf ball?

Sometimes when I go to the golf course, I get so pissed at that golf'n ball I want to "b-slap" every tree on the course with one my golf'n stiks. You can ask old "pesky neighbor" Wayne bout that. Wayne says to me...."NO NO NO". I "b-slap" the hell out that golf cart with a hi dollar golf'n stik. Break that sucker slap in two. No I ain't no violent kind of guy. I love animals. Break'n golf clubs is a normal approach for a wonderful fun filled golf'n day. But then ya got these golfers what have self control. Don't break nuttin no matter how bad they swak the ball. Them guys ain't got no redneck blood in 'em at all. Ya gotta break sumthing guys.....Sheesh!

Rain half the night. Lightning strik'n out there in the yard. Thunder sound like dynamite. Scare hell out of Sadie Mae an' keep me awake for hours. All sunshiny today with a little 15 mile a hour breeze. 

Excuses

It just stopped rain'n. Not much rain, but enough to spoil a good golf'n day. Ya see, when it rains on a golf course, they put out signs what says..."cart path only". That means if'n ya don't hit your golf ball close to the cart path, you gonna be go'n for a long hike. Carts must stay on the cart paths.....or the cart path cops is gonna git ya. Make ya read out loud the hand wrote cart path only rules of the ins, outs, why fors, whens an' wheres....stuff like that bout. By the time ya finish, ya don't want to play no more golf.

I surely ain't got nuttin to discuss today. I rekon I done wore out all the talk of a Louisiana trip. But I did enjoy it. Got myself all excitis think'n bout it. The trip is still not set in fresh concrete. Or to be PC, not set in stone.

I don't know what the hell I wanna do. Yesterday I went outside to walk around the yard a bit. That when I realized "I cain't breath". Took a shot of my Advair breathalyzer thingy think'n that might help by open'n up my air pipes an' I would breath like a 20 year old. "Well Billy Bob, ya can forget that shit. You ain't walk'n nowheres no more".
I exercise my lungs on a daily basis. I breath in an' out bout 40/50 times a minute.

Old string bean/coffee bean.....Butterbean, that's it, sure did make me do some think'n. Not bout stay'n in Texas instead of go'n to Louisiana, but when he says..."I sure hope ya don't back out". Here lately, I been find'n any excuse in the books to not do something. Bad weather has been my all time favorite (but I'm right on that one). I have me a bunch of "issues" what I been fall'n back on as a excuse when the weather is nice (but I'm right on that one too). I need to get excitis, that what I need.

I know how long it take me to hook up an' get on the road....pick'n up stuff I throwed in the yard, disconnect'n water an' electric, hook'n up "that jeep"....stuff like that. Right bout a hour all total....onest I get off'n the couch an' away from this damn computer.

I crank up "Sally da house" yesterday just for the hell of it an 'cause it needed cranked up. I were think'n the sound of a big ol' powerful V-8 engine would stir up my excitement, but it didn't do nuttin. So's I crank up the Onan generator for the same reasons an' that didn't do nuttin neither. Now if'n I was to hear the sound of a golf'n cart crank'n up, I betcha a dollar I gonna get all excitis.

I suppose what I'm try'n to say is "the old Billy Bob ain't excited". Refer back to the excuses.

In the mean time, I got things to do. Laters.... 

Cajun Country...in the mak'ns

Nephew Joseph says....."WHAT??? You're go'n to Louisiana just to listen to music an' eat cajun food"?

Well, no, not exactly. But yes to both them questions. Everbody what parks within a block of "da house"  know's the old Billy Bob is got cajun music on this hard drive. I remember one time I was on the ferry at Galveston, Texas. I had cajun tunes what was play'n on the CD player....what I had put on a CD. Half ways across Galveston Bay, there was a crowd of people what had congregated around "Alice" stomp'n their feet an' slap'n knees to the beat of cajun music. Nobody was complain'n "turn that shit down".
But anyhows, there ain't nuttin like be'n right there amungst a hunnert or so people listen'n to "live" cajun music. What better place to do that than Louisiana? As far as cajun food goes, I can make my own no matter where I'm at. I know how ya know. Well.....some of it anyhows.....like awethentic cajun gumbo. But there ain't nuttin like sit'n in a little Cajun eat'em up be'n served by a good look'n "hoochi coochi mama" cajun waitress.

And then there's the culture. Little house shacks build along the bayous. Homemade wooden skiffs park in the front yard half full of bayou water. Clothes dry'n out on the line. Kids run'n round half neekid. A alligator chained up to a tree. That's Louisiana folks.....country.

Holy crap....I could live in that there shack. Sit out there on "da porch" sip'n up a cup an' catch'n me some big ol' catfish right there in the front yard.

I always have a place in my heart for Cajuns.  'cause they are country an' know how to live country. Ain't no need to say no more bout that. A unique people what will one day become extinct. Due to government regulations on housing, fish'n an' sanitation issues (outhouse). Just had to throw that in there ya know. 

So how does the old Billy Bob feel today? "OLD" for one thing. My damn back is kill'n me. I'm freak'n depressed with all this weather stufff. Yup, it's nasty outside, wind blow'n, look like it gonna rain....ain't the first sign of sunshine.

Caught that "damn goat" eat'n my stuff yesterday. He done eat the seat off'n my chair and chew up a handlebar grip on the "billy bike". 

 Damn goat......

A rare moment....Billy Bob is hold'n a baby. Last one I held, I drop on the floor. Sheesh!!!!....I'm just kidd'n, don't believe that shit. 

100% Susccess rate....Yee Haa!

Yes sir boy howdy, when the old Billy Bob says he gonna do something, he usually does it right. Yesterday I mentioned I might just "do nuttin" all day long. It was a total success....I did nuttin.

Ok, so I didn't do nuttin constructive yesterday. But I did spend a few hours do'n some research for a possible trip to "Cajun Country". I found a perfect Rv park in Lafayette, La......but wouldn't ya know it, they closed for remodel'n or some shit like that.

I never figgered that RV parks in Louisiana wold be so expensive. Louisiana ain't the "melt'n pot of America" ya know. What we talk'n bout here is $30 an' 35 dollar a day.....$250 a week.....$450 a month. I ain't look'n for no RV park with swim pools an' hot tubs....stuff like that. Just a plain ol' gravel park'n pad an' bout a hunnert feet from my closest neighbor.

Lafayette seems to be bout as close as I gonna come to what I'm look'n for. They got culture in Lafayette. They got live cajun jam sessions. They got cajun food. An' they got a few all American cajuns. So, anywhere within a hunnert mile (preferably much closer) of Lafayette is my destination.....maybe.

Now for the hardest part of this whole ordeal.....pack'n up an' mov'n on. I ain't got too much stuff lay'n in the yard, so that's not what I'm talk'n bout. I really don't want to go. Maybe this is the turn'n point in my life where I don't want to go nowheres any more. Maybe I'm just too damn depressed where I don't give a shit, damn care no more. Maybe I got myself accustomed to sit'n on the couch sip'n up a cup an' watch'n TV. What ever it is, I wish to hell it would get out my yard an' leave me be.

I forgot to mention my wonderful supper after a round of golf Monday. Ya see, I went back to the Mexican restaurant where I got the farts last week. This time, I hadn't even ordered a drink yet when I feel the urge. What the hell???

I have to laugh every time someone mentions I need to find me a girlfriend. That would be nice, but I ain't really expect'n any young wimmins what would want to travel cross country with the old Billy Bob. Not for more than a couple days anyhows. I'm rough around the edges, a bit on the grumpy side from time to time an' I knows how to cuss like a true blooded American redneck. I suppose you could say I'm a little different.

The weather has warm up pretty good here in south Texas. Been run'n the a/c every day. Yes I cleaned the filter. The winds have slowed down to a comfortable breeze.....ain't no rain to speak of. Although we did get a little sprinkle shower last night.

About the dishes. Yes it's that time again. Damn them dishes......where they all come from?

Hot damn....did ya watch the Voice last night? I got so excitis I turn the surround sound loud as it would go. That little 16 year old is a "star". But she weren't the only one. My God, holy crap....these people got some talent.

Ok, I'm done. Got things to do ya know.  

Work'n hard at do'n nuttin

I hit a golf ball almost a mile yesterday. When I finally found the ball, I was still 300 yards from the green. I also hit a golf ball in the water. Stupit ball!!!

Other than the above, I had a very enjoyable afternoon yesterday. My drives were short of my anticipated driving distance, but as everbody know, I get to hit that damn little white ball again. Old farts golf is the same as professional golfers. Like what ya see on TV on the week ends. We play by the same rules. So why the hell ain't "we" on TV for a record number of balls "we" hit in the water or a record number of trees "we" hit in a single round??? I hit balls in the water an' I hit trees....I should be on TV. Golf should cost 5 cents.

I still ain't no further along with the Louisiana research project. I just can't seem to get excitis bout hook'n up "that jeep" to the back of "da house" an' driv'n a few hunnert miles just to listen to cajun music. I'm thinkn, no matter where I go, I'm gonna do exactly what I do now....nuttin. Not that "do'n nuttin" ain't excit'n.

I used to think "do'n nuttin" was just a easy way to be lazy. But it ain't like that at all. Do'n nuttin takes a lot of plan'n an' preparation. You know what I'm talk'n bout.....before ya can go sit on the couch an' do nuttin, ya got some chores ya gotta do first. Like ya gotta clean the couch off so's there room to lay down if'n a nap is necessary. That big ol' bag of trash has got to be toted to the dumpster. Dishes to wash up. Sweep the floor. Stuff like that ya know. Yup.....do'n nuttin is a all day affair. I think today I'll just "do nuttin".

If'n I was a few years younger, I might believe that old age only slows ya down. But I ain't a few years younger. Old age has put a "stop" to 90% of the things I used to do. You don't see me out there in the yard dig'n holes with a shovel do ya? Ya don't see me down there at the local dance hall whip'n it up with the young wimmins. That kinda stuff stopped a long time ago....bout the time I got too old. "Are ya whin'n bout be'n old again Billy Bob"? Ya damn right I am. This shit sucks. An' don't let nobody tell ya it don't.

Have any of ya been watch'n "The Voice"? Well, the old Billy Bob has an' I mean to tell ya, America has got some talented kids out there. I done got my sights set on two of 'em. They winners in my book. A little 16 years old country singer an' a little lady wear'n glasses what has got more energy than the law allows. Outstand'n performances. If'n I knowed how to operate a cell phone, I would vote for both of 'em. 

Speak'n of cell phones, I'm still use'n the same one I got way back in '03. It takes care of all my needs....talk to somebody. They got cell phones now days what all ya gotta do is think bout something an' that thing come alive.....do all kind of stuff. I hear ya can even take pictures with 'em. They come in all shapes an' forms from the size of a pack of smokes all the ways up to a mid size suitcase. What's next???

Ok, I ain't got nuttin to talk about. I'm out of here....got things to do ya know. Laters.

Research is hard work

Oh no, it's Monday again. And a beautiful Monday if'n I do say so myself. 64 degs an' the the sun is shin'n all over the place. Bet ya ain't never gonna guess what the old Billy Bob is got on his mind. No I ain't gonna be fix'n stuff. I'm think'n more long the lines of golf ball swak'n. But ya probly already knowed that.

Boy howdy, research is hard work. Have ya ever Google something an' then go clickity click click on everthing what pops up? I been research'n a trip to Louisiana ya know. Well I been research'n for one day anyhows. I ain't no closer to find'n "cajun music" in Louisiana then I was when I started. By the ways....I Google places an' stuff people tell me bout in the comments section. So, if'n you been to Louisiana and had more fun than ya ever have in your life, tell me bout it in the comments.

I rekon I should make myself clear when I talk bout cajun music. What I'm talk'n bout is what ya hear down in the bayous. Fiddles, cajun accordions, mandolins, geetars, washboards....stuff like that. Did you know Eddie Raven is a excellent cajun singer? I remember the first time I hear cajun music. It was on the Grand ol' Operie way back in the 50's. Does Ragin' Cajun sound familiar....or something like that? Hot damn, I were hooked. Now I'm almost 72 year old an' my blood still runs red. My feets still tap to the rhythm.....(ya didn't think I know how to spell that did ya). Thanks to spell check. Music kind of makes me feel young again. Chase "hot mama" wimmins, go dan'n, drink sum beer, frolic on the beach....walker races, stuff like that.

I were sit'n there on the couch. "What the hell, there water run'n out the ceiling". No it ain't rain'n. Ya see, it got quite warm yesterday, so's I turn on the a/c. That what it were...the damn thing done freeze up. A big block of ice up there drip'n water down on the floor. "The filter Billy Bob. Ya gotta clean the filter". Whoooee, that sucker is some kind of dirty. And I just clean it not long ago....bout last year sometime when I was over there in Georgia fix'n stuff. Don't ya just hate do'n maintenance?

Speak'n of maintenance, I been put'n off a simple 5 minute chore for over two months now. Check the water in the batteries. That don't seem to important does it? Well, I just spend almost $600 for new batteries, so yes, it's very important. Batteries don't work too good without water. It also runes (ruins) them...warps the plates...stuff like that.   

Ok, I'm think'n a "sit on da porch, sip'n up a cup" is in order. I got me some think'n to do.

Sadie May says....."bark, bark, woof, woof, woof"

Dog with no name, New Orleans an' Alice"

While we're on the subject of Louisiana and cajun music, did I ever tell ya bout the time?

Me an' my "dawg with no name" was headed for Atlanta Georgia in "Alice". You remember "Alice" right? My first motorhome?

 Anyhows, before leav'n south Texas, BIL Abraham, proud owner of "El Rancho Abraham RV Resort & Goat Farm" give me a dog.

Nephew Joseph had brung this "dawg with no name" from Baton Rouge to south Texas, stuck him in a cage an' that was it. Poor dog ain't never go nowhere. Just sit in that cage all day. I took me a like'n to that dog, so's BIL give him to me. I toted that dog with me everwhere I went for bout 4 years an' close to 30,000 miles. But he didn't have no name.

We stopped in New Orleans, me an' that dog.....just look'n at stuff ya know. I spyed this open front curbside bar called Boudreaux's Backyard.

 What a better name for a "coon ass" dog than Boudreaux?

Boudreaux all dress up in his Sunday go to meet'ns walked the streets of New Orleans proudly, right long side his companion Billy Bob, all dress up in shorts, tee an' flip flops. We was winder shop'n ya know. At one store front, the owner see I got Boudreaux on a leash says....."come inside, look around....50% off". Yeah right, boy howdy...Boudreaux was piss'n on everthing. We was politely asked to leave...right now. 

I like Louisiana, alligators, country folk, cajun music, swamps an' stuff like that. But I always been in a hurry ever time I go through Louisiana. Don't stop for nuttin but gas an' some bread an' balony. If'n there was a rose to smell, I never knowed it. Poooof, Louisiana gone....just like that.

All the comments bout cajun country has got me all excitis. Thanks to everbody who commented. Now I'm want'n to go back an' see what I missed all them times I traveled that way.
Oh yeah, did I tell ya bout the time I was way down south in Houma, Louisiana?  Tak'n the back roads, if'n ya know what I mean, headed east on US-90 to New Orleans. That's the area where "Old Fool" lived ya know. We runs into one the worstest thunder storms I ever see in my whole life. Big ol' lightning bolts an' thunder boom'n right in front me. Rain com'n down so hard ya cain't see nuttin. An I'm go'n bout a hunnert mile a hour. Skeer hell slap out me. So's I pull off the highway into a little patch of gravel....right next to a barb wire fence. KABOOOM, a bolt of lightning strik that damn fence. Skeer hell slap out me. That fence wire is got steam com'n off'n it. What the hell??? Fences don't steam.

Now I ain't say'n I'm gonna pack up an' head for Louisiana here in the next few days just 'cause I'm a bit excitis. But I am gonna be think'n bout it. I'll be do'n me some research on the subject here shortly.

Speak'n of music, mariachi is probly my second choice of "loud" music. I crank up the volume....yeah boy howdy. If'n I got me some cajun an' mariachi, ain't nobody gonna sleep.

Ok....I got things to do....laters.

Memories....poooof, gone, just like that

continued......
After removing all the doors, chop'n the top off, installing a home recliner in place of a back seat, we had built a perfect "brush hog" 2 wheel drive redneck sand buggy that would go places a Jeep couldn't go. And that cop car what was chas'n us.
Now you know the rest of the story.

I've been work'n on the recovery of my childhood memories. Now I know why I started this blog in the first place....I was los'n my memory. When I sit down to write some strung out humorous tale from my past, I can't seem to remember those days no more. That's when I have to resort to a few old notebooks and past blogs when my memory was still intact. If'n you're gonna lose something, don't let it be memories.

One day my grandkids is gonna ask....."Who was grandpa"? "What did he contribute to the world"? "Was grandpa real"?  By that time, Blogger will be a thing of the past and all records of "the life an' times of Billy Bob" will be lost and long forgotten. Billy Bob never existed.

That's what part of today's blog is about, the preservation of records. In the past I have spoken about "saving" blogs to my computer. I have found a way to do that, but not sure if'n the saved files will work on another computer (somebody elses computer). That's a test I have not yet done. Actually, I don't know how neither. Maybe someone else has an' can direct the old Billy Bob in the right direction.
Note to self: Save a blog file to a memory stick and try it on the other computer.

I suppose the last of the cold fronts are gone now. This last one was a doozy, or what ever ya wanna call it, with high winds and cold night time temps. Today is absolutely beautiful. Would be a perfect day for do'n something outside. Like swak'n up some golf balls or jump'n on the "billy bike". I don't play golf on week ends, so that's out. The "billy bike" has issues, so that's out. Ya see, when the wind blowed the "billy bike" over, it hit a propane bottle an' bend one the brake operator thingys. The freak'n wheel won't turn. And the chain is all rusty from the salt air in the coastal bend. How the hell can something break just sit'n there?

OK, how the hell do ya get to the other side of Houston? You think I'm kid'n don't ya???.....but if'n ya ain't never drive through Houston, ya can't get there from here. Not in one day anyhows. The only straight route I see is to go to Louisiana, turn around, an' go north. Maybe turn south in St Louis.

Speak'n of Louisiana, the other day I was watch'n TV. Hot damn, it was a program bout Cajun an' zydeco music, what everbody know is the old Billy Bob's favorite music. Crank that shit loud as can be an' zone out. Foot stomp'n, knee slap'n....Yeee Haw!!!! But anyhows, I got to think'n. What better place to listen to cajun music than Louisana? I bet ya a buck I could find me a camp'n place in Louisiana, eat me up some awe-thentic Cajun foods, drink up some that strong ass chicory coffee an' listen to cajun music to my hearts content. I done been to New Orleans bout 4 times, so that's out. Open to suggestions.

Ok....got things to do....laters.