I think'n that we should start of the first Saturday of 2015 with a story. *think'n what way to go with this since "political correctness" is the new law of the day*
Remember the story I told a while back bout that damn big ol' Tom cat what beat my ass on the farm? Scratch the hell out me 'cause I skeered him while he was sleep'n under the table. My god, ain't never gonna tell that story again. That lady light into me with both feet that I was a "cat molester" or something like that. Sheesh, sleep'n cats an' little innocent 6 year old boys don't mix.
But I'm gonna tell ya cat story anyhows. I lived in Port Aransas....an' I fished. There was a pier I used to fish off of an' I catched tons of trout most ever time I go. Night fish'n with a little 800 watt Honda generator an' a 500 watt quartz light. Not only was there a overabundance of "spotted sea trout" at this location, there was a ton of abandoned cats what people would drop off. One cat in particular, he was a big'un, an' mean as hell, he would sleep up there on the pier right where I did my fish'n. Puff up an' attack ya as you approached. A wild sum-a-gun.
Well I can play that game too. That cat is sound asleep out to the end of the pier.....he don't hear me pull up. I sneeks out his way real quiet like. I'm gonna skeer hell out this mean ol' cat. I don't make it, the cat opens his eyes. He's out there with no place to go. I'm block'n his exit to safe ground. You think that bothers this cat? Well hell no it don't. He puffs up into a big ol' ball of ruffled hair an' here he come a hunnert mile a hour. Right straight at me....with intentions on his mind. Now I'm look'n for a safe retreat to safe ground. I don't make it. That damn cat tole me a thing or two. Teared my pants with them long ass claws an' bited me 2 or 3 times. I catched a limit of fish that night.
Same cat, different time. It was a warm afternoon. That cat was sound asleep out on the pier. Let's try this one more time....I'm gonna skeer hell out that damn cat. I didn't know cats were such good swimmers. I was right bout 5 feets from that cat....an' I start growl'n a mean ass Rottenwilder growl....bark'n an' stuff. That cat jump straight up in the air, slap miss the pier when he come back down an' into the chilling waters of the Gulf of Mexico he go. He start swim'n the 50 or so feet to the safety of the big rocks. Lickity split he go. In nuttin flat he crawls out the water, shakes off a gallon of salt water an' turns to glare at me. I can tell he's pissed by the his beady eyes. Oh shit, hope he don't attack again.
I never see that cat again after that day. But let me tell ya bout this other cat.....I took this cute little kitten home with me....along with 4 or 5 excellent eat'n fish. When ya catches a speckled trout, ya eat it.
The last couple days my back is feel'n pretty good again. My heart is back to hit'n on all 8...I'm a 16 valve fuel injected V-8 ya know. I have all my meds after a few days of "I'm out of meds". My breath'n is back up to 50% cpacity....I think I may live another couple months or so. I worry bout this shit ya know. Shoot, I wouldn't mind liv'n another 10 years or so. But if I don't, I can live with that too.
I don't see no reason to live this year any different than I did last year. I'm talk bout not mak'n no plans to do a hunnert things I know I cain't do no more 'cause of health issues. My hurt'n back ain't the only issue I have ya know. I still sit an' think bout...dream, of excit'n places to go an' adventurous things to do.....Veracruz ain't one of 'em. But, what will be will be.
Until this terribly cold ass weather passes an' it gets back into the 70's, this is the kind of stuff I'll be writ'n bout. I may even mention how long it takes me to warsh up a sink full of dirty dishes. But not today. Some of ya may not like it, but that's the way it's gonna be.
Did I ever tell ya bout the old "rod knock'n" 1936 Dodge I tried to turn over??? That's the one the cops couldn't catch one night when I went to the jail house. Bastards put up a road block an' that old Dodge spined out on a corner.
Remember the story I told a while back bout that damn big ol' Tom cat what beat my ass on the farm? Scratch the hell out me 'cause I skeered him while he was sleep'n under the table. My god, ain't never gonna tell that story again. That lady light into me with both feet that I was a "cat molester" or something like that. Sheesh, sleep'n cats an' little innocent 6 year old boys don't mix.
But I'm gonna tell ya cat story anyhows. I lived in Port Aransas....an' I fished. There was a pier I used to fish off of an' I catched tons of trout most ever time I go. Night fish'n with a little 800 watt Honda generator an' a 500 watt quartz light. Not only was there a overabundance of "spotted sea trout" at this location, there was a ton of abandoned cats what people would drop off. One cat in particular, he was a big'un, an' mean as hell, he would sleep up there on the pier right where I did my fish'n. Puff up an' attack ya as you approached. A wild sum-a-gun.
Well I can play that game too. That cat is sound asleep out to the end of the pier.....he don't hear me pull up. I sneeks out his way real quiet like. I'm gonna skeer hell out this mean ol' cat. I don't make it, the cat opens his eyes. He's out there with no place to go. I'm block'n his exit to safe ground. You think that bothers this cat? Well hell no it don't. He puffs up into a big ol' ball of ruffled hair an' here he come a hunnert mile a hour. Right straight at me....with intentions on his mind. Now I'm look'n for a safe retreat to safe ground. I don't make it. That damn cat tole me a thing or two. Teared my pants with them long ass claws an' bited me 2 or 3 times. I catched a limit of fish that night.
Same cat, different time. It was a warm afternoon. That cat was sound asleep out on the pier. Let's try this one more time....I'm gonna skeer hell out that damn cat. I didn't know cats were such good swimmers. I was right bout 5 feets from that cat....an' I start growl'n a mean ass Rottenwilder growl....bark'n an' stuff. That cat jump straight up in the air, slap miss the pier when he come back down an' into the chilling waters of the Gulf of Mexico he go. He start swim'n the 50 or so feet to the safety of the big rocks. Lickity split he go. In nuttin flat he crawls out the water, shakes off a gallon of salt water an' turns to glare at me. I can tell he's pissed by the his beady eyes. Oh shit, hope he don't attack again.
I never see that cat again after that day. But let me tell ya bout this other cat.....I took this cute little kitten home with me....along with 4 or 5 excellent eat'n fish. When ya catches a speckled trout, ya eat it.
The last couple days my back is feel'n pretty good again. My heart is back to hit'n on all 8...I'm a 16 valve fuel injected V-8 ya know. I have all my meds after a few days of "I'm out of meds". My breath'n is back up to 50% cpacity....I think I may live another couple months or so. I worry bout this shit ya know. Shoot, I wouldn't mind liv'n another 10 years or so. But if I don't, I can live with that too.
I don't see no reason to live this year any different than I did last year. I'm talk bout not mak'n no plans to do a hunnert things I know I cain't do no more 'cause of health issues. My hurt'n back ain't the only issue I have ya know. I still sit an' think bout...dream, of excit'n places to go an' adventurous things to do.....Veracruz ain't one of 'em. But, what will be will be.
Until this terribly cold ass weather passes an' it gets back into the 70's, this is the kind of stuff I'll be writ'n bout. I may even mention how long it takes me to warsh up a sink full of dirty dishes. But not today. Some of ya may not like it, but that's the way it's gonna be.
Did I ever tell ya bout the old "rod knock'n" 1936 Dodge I tried to turn over??? That's the one the cops couldn't catch one night when I went to the jail house. Bastards put up a road block an' that old Dodge spined out on a corner.
I've been thinking that 10 more years might be ok if I don't have any worse health problems along the way.
ReplyDeleteI don't think I'd ever try to scare hell out of a cat, but I sure wouldn't bring one home with me either.
Your cat stories give me a laugh... and bring back a memory or two. My first husband decided to give our cat a bath.... heck, it was just a kitten, hardly bigger than a handful. Anyway, ole "what's his name" filled up the sink and picked up the cat.... that cat proceeded to turn over ... yeah, his fur coat is still intact, but I swear, he turned around.... scratches the heck out of ole what's his name... clear up and down his arms... bleeding and a real mess. The cat didn't get a bath... I didn't divorce the jerk until nearly 18 years later... but I still grin a little (heck, I laugh out loud) every time I think of that little incident.
ReplyDeleteWe love you just the way you are, Billy Bob, and keep coming back for more. 2015 will be a good one for those of us who choose to make the most of it, whatever that may be. See ya tomorrow .... down the road a piece.
ReplyDelete