Shark fish'n the Glf of Mexico

Nice trip to Walmart....not a problem in the world. That' a positive statement.

Now for the negative side the same story, the trip to Walmart sucked.

I walk. Not very far, but I am walk'n. Ain't no way I'm gonna ever see a mile, but I been do'n me some walk'n.

Fell out the door. Landed in a plop on the ground. Positive side, I got up. Negative side, I spend half a hour lay'n on the floor.

It's hard to think positive when there are so many negatives. Like right now, I'm try'n to recall a story.

One more thing, my vision is go'n haywire. Little boxes an' grid things float'n round in my eyes.

Now for a story......*think'n....will they like this story*.

Johnny was build'n a boat in his garage. It was bout 1967. Me an' Joe would meet up over there at Johnny's garage to assist with the fibreglass'n an' stuff like that. Probly drink up a few cold ones too. It gonna be a pretty boat, but that sucker ain't gonna be in the water for another year or two. An' we been talk'n bout go'n fish'n.

Preparations was made for a fish'n trip. Reels was oiled up an' respooled with 120 pound test fish'n line. Rust cleaned off some really big fish'n hooks...a coffe can full of homemade sinkers (nuts an' bolts). Five foot long stainless steel leaders was constructed. We go'n "big fish" fish'n.

Joe come by with his boat the next morn'n with a little 32 cal. revolver strap to his side. Hmmmm, what that gun for? We load that boat up with all kind of fish'n gear...3 poles, a tackle box, a case of beer, a 5 gallon gas can an' a paper bag of sammiches.  Always go prepared with a refresh'n meal when ya go fish'n.

We launch the boat out on the Texas City dike an' we head due east to the open seas....we go'n shark fish'n in the Gulf of Mexico. Before I go on further with this story, all this fish'n gear is loaded up in a little 16 foot aluminum flat bottom "jon" boat with a 15 hp or 25 hp Johnson "putt putt" pull start motor on it. An' I do mean "putt putt". It's gonna be a long day.

As we ease our way through the Galveson bay we see many sail'n boats, fish'n boats, shrimp boats an' a few ships headed to an' from Houston. That little motor never miss a stroke as we enter the into the gulf...wide open "putt'n" all the way. A few cold ones an' Galveston is sit'n on the horizon....way the hell back there. There ain't no other boats way the hell out here. We are all alone. Sit'n in a tiny speck in the Gulf of Mexico under a blar'n sweat produc'n hot sun.

Hand lines are throwed over the side to catch us up some "shark bait" fish. Yeee Ha...we fish'n. My hand line tightens, then it starts sing'n, yank slap out my hands....poooof, gone, just like that. That were one big "bait" fish  I betcha a dollar. Enough small fish is finally catched up, so's switch over to our heavy duty fish poles. We lay back an' sip up a cold one just so's we look like full fledge fish'n people in case somebody happens out this way. It's a macho thing amoungst fishermen. Ya gotta look like a fisherman. The first clicker goes off with a hi pitched whine, Johnny is got a fish on. A big ass fish. It's a shark. One big spin'n leap out the water an' that shark is gone....pooof, just like that....done break that s/s leader.

I get my first bite.....spills my beer grab'n holt to that pole. My line tightens, I set the old rusty hook....I got a fish on. A couple jumps an' it's ascertained, I got me a shark on the end my fish'n line. Ascertained is a yankee word. Just thought it would be cool to use it here. Southern folk don't usually use words like that ya know. Bout the third jump, my shark is slap gone. He break my s/s leader. Now let me tell ya why those s/s leaders are 5 foots long. Just in case ya ever wanna go shark fish'n. When the shark clears water on a jump an' makes a spin with his body, your leader forms a little loop. When that loop tightens up, it's gonna break. Almost guaranteed. Most often it breaks right up close to the hook within a foot. When ya reel yer line in, you simply put another hook on an' you now have a 4 foots s/s leader. I mean, like shoot, that's common sense.

My next shark is brung up to the side that little boat. He's bout maybe 4 foots long an' that sucker has got a mouth full of deadly look'n well maintained teeth. The shark is calm, just lay'n there on top the water.....tak'n him a rest break I would rekon. I'm gonna reach down there an' unhook that little shark off'n my fish hook.....release him an' catch me up a bigger one. As I reaches my hand down to release the hook, that shark is eye ball'n my every move. Poooof....just like that, that shark comes slap alive, mak'n a "wide open mouth full of teeth" attempt to chew my dad gum hand off. Beat'n his head up against Joe's little boat a few times, Joe shoots that sucker dead. Put's him on a rope an' says...."we gonna be eat'n shark steak tonight". *Think'n it was a "blue tip"*.....hell, I don't know.

With all our leaders broke....an' "cold ones" run'n low, we heads back to the Texas City dike. Shark in tow.
"Hey look, that guy just catched a red fish". We anchor up an' we red fish'n in nuttin flat. A red fish is a "red drum" by name, pretty good eat'n, but nuttin like eat'n a spotted sea trout (speck). Take my word for it, I know what I'm talk'n bout. I'm wored slap out an' a bit on the tipsy side, I lay back in the bow of the boat....fish pole in hand. Ok, another tip for anybody that wants to go red fish fish'n. When ya lay back in the bow of a boat, make sure your reel in in the clicker position an' ya ain't got that sucker in gear. I hears a couple strained clicks an' my fish pole is fly'n through the air a hunnert mile a hour, hits the water an' that sucker is slap gone....poooof, just like that. Look like a torpedo go'n through the water.
In 1967, $200 is a pile of change to replace a lost fish pole an' brand spank'n new reel. 

Before I left Texas City in 1970, Johnny was still work'n on his boat. Joe had blowed that little "putt putt" Johnson motor up, divorced his wife an' sold the boat an' trailer for $50. I wonder where they are today. Probly dead 'cause they was both older than me.

Ok, just for fun, I Google search on Johnny. It seems he is still alive an' living in La Marque, Texas just outside of Texas City by a couple three miles. Aged 77....this could very well my my "shark fish'n" buddy Johnny.

How do ya put a title on something like this????

Not only is today another Monday, it's right on the edge of say'n "Adios el Marcho". Ha ha, I learn to speak Mexican in a little cantina in Laredo, Texas. Ya see, the nice little waitress lady didn't speak no English, an, me an' my buddy was want'n us a cold beer. She look at me an' say..."Me no speekee Engleesh". Tak'n out my translation book...I says..."dame me un cervesa...two times".

There ain't a lick of sunshine out there. I done got up early so's I could make that Aransas Pass trip this morn'n. Now what the hell am I gonna do? Ya cain't just jump in a car an' take off when there ain't no sunshine an' a slight chance of rain. What ya gonna do if'n ya have a flat tire.....sheesh! You gonna get wet. But I may chance it anyhows since I'm slap out of meds an' could use a few groceries.

Speak'n of meds, I really ain't got no meds no more like the ones I used to take. I quit tak'n the ones that make me dizzy an' raise my blood pressure out of sight bout a year or so ago. I take a blood pressure pill, a tachycardia pill an' a Spriva inhaler for my lungs.  That little tachycardia pill I'll have to take till I die. Only one attack in the last bout 6 or 8 years. If'n ya ever had a tachycardia attack, you know what I'm talk'n bout. I take the Spriva inhaler just for the hell of it. Don't know if it does me any good or not. That's it, that's my meds. Well I do take a daily acid reducer for my stomach, an' let me tell ya, if'n I don't take it, I wakes up with a case of acid reflux. Of course I take my aspirin, but that ain't a med. So what I'm think'n this morn'n, a trip to Aransas Pass ain't really that important.

Do I write too much when I do my blog? Ha, I think so too. You should see the shit I just deleted so's it wouldn't be too long today. Do I use too many cuss'n words? Nope, I'm practic'n to be a rapper. What better place to practice than a blog? Ha, I can just see the old Billy Bob stand'n in front of crowd of scream'n mariwanna smok'n teenagers try'n to do a rap routine. Shoot, I would bring the house down.

This is NOT a political statement, it's a pissed off comment......
I watch the news ya know, an' I pay close attention to what's go'n on. It ain't good. A few years ago I was tell'n everbody I would be dead before things got really bad. Well I ain't dead an' things are really bad. It's been 73 years (WWII) since our great nation has been threatened with the threats like we receive today....."Kill America"....stuff like that. It's been years an' years since we've had the racial tensions we have today....."Kill cops....Hands Up don't shoot". Our nation is divided right down the middle. But that's normal when ya got opinions an' beliefs. Been go'n on for a couple hunnert years. It's just sad that it's tak'n America down faster than you can say "Jack be nimble Jack be quick". Folks, something ain't right an' it needs a good fix'n.

Sorry I posted that here, but I'm pissed. Too many of my "rights" have been took away in the last few years. An' as a retiree, I pay more in taxes than 47% of America what don't pay a freak'n copper cent. My insurance (Medicare) ain't free even though I paid dearly into it for many many years an' pay more into it every month (bout $108)....plus what I pay into my secondary insurance. Then I get told ...."Oh no, we don't cover that". My food is regulated. My health is regulated. My speech is regulated. My rights are regulated. 

Ok, let's talk bout something else.
As days pass by, my plans make a beeline for the dumpster. Everthing I was mak'n plans for a couple months ago are be'n edited an' parts are be'n deleted. Today, all plans are just sit'n here with no positive thoughts. An' shoot, I was git'n a little bit excitis. Hook'n up an' get'n on the road don't fix a damn thing, so don't even suggest that. The problems will still be there. Ha, kind of like drink'n your troubles away. It don't work an' ya only wake up with a dreadful headache. Health issues an' a case of depression can do weird things in the way ya think. Positive thoughts are no help.  

Maybe a trip to Walmart will cheer me up on a sunless day......laters

You sit toooo much Billy Bob.....git up

Man boy howdy....damn!!! That left foot got all swolled up again yesterday an' I didn't do nuttin to cause it to. Unless by chance, I sit on my ass too much.

I remember when I just a young feller, I would walk down the street passed the house of a old codger sit'n outside on his front porch.....sip'n up a cup an', a great possibility, he was also do'n some think'n like I do. I would say...."damn, is that all that guy does is sit on his porch all day"? As the years flew by, I began to find me a place to sit down for a spell....sip me up a cup an' do me some think'n. As more years flew by......poooof, just like that, I now have the answer to why that old codger sit on his porch. That's as far as he could go. Old age ain't how many years old you are, it's more like "my god, I got to sit down". Don't knock nobody sit'n down, sip'n up a cup an' do'n some think'n....your day will come. Possibly sooner 'an ya think.

I had it in my mind to jump in the "billy jeep" yesterday an' go for a ride. Head off to Aransas Pass to Walmart. Pick up my meds an' do me a little shop'n. I really don't need to say any more...I didn't make it. Maybe today if'n I get to feel'n a bit better. Odds ain't in my favor.

I was sit'n there in "that chair" watch'n golf on the TV....an' I got to think'n. "let's go on a golf'n tour". I did that a few years back with my grandson Colby on a trip from south Texas to Georgia. Took us 10 days an' close to $800 to get there. An' we hit bout a dozen golf courses along the way. A couple stops, we extended our stay at the RV parks to play another round.  I'm think'n...."I could do that"....again.

In my mind I got me plenty excit'n an' adventurous ideas pop up from time to time, but the old body has other ideas....."sit down, sip up a cut an' stop thinkn". The golf bag full of golf ball swak'n clubs are stowed. The "bubba boat" is com'n out the car to be stowed   in my old VW bus.Ha, if'n I get somewheres an' need a "bubba boat", I'll just buy a new one.....simple as that.  My fish'n stuff is [this] close to find'n a new home. The "Coyote" project is sit'n on the back burner with no flame under it.  

There was a time, an' I remember it well, I would get me a idea in my head....an' I was gone...down the road a hunnert mile a hour. The last couple years or so, that's all I got...memories. You would think liv'n in  motorhome, all ya got to do is fire 'er up an' go. Well that ain't true no more. There's preparations that's got to be made before you jump on the freeways an' go somewheres. In my case, there's a ton of other stuff that needs to be done. Oil changes on "da house" "Billy jeep" an' the Onan generator. Air in the tires. Empty tanks. Fill the gas tanks. Empty the holding tanks. State inspection. Warsh job. Sheesh, that's gonna take a freak'n month. An' I ain't got me no help. Ha, invited a homeless to dinner one time. He sit down to the table an' I tell him...."help yerself". So that's where I stand.....I got to "help yerself".

Ok, I'm out of here for the day....got things to do ya know.....Laters.

A interesting trip to Port Aransas

Me an' my dog Sadie Mae took us a trip to Port Aransas yesterday. A 45 minute wait in the ferry line an' we was in paradise. That's what we used to call Port A many years ago before a gob of "do gooders" decided to turn it into a CITY. It's no longer the little fishing village it was back in it's earlier days.

I remember the first time I visited Port Aransas. It was back in 1964 while I was finish'n up my time in the US Navy. One more year to go Yeee haa....an' I got extended due to Viet Nam. Hospital time caused me to miss my ride to over there. I was restationed on another ship an' gave 30 days leave. Where to go? Hey I know, I ain't see my dad in bout 8 or10 years an' he lives in Port Aransas, Texas. I jump in the old 1956 Ford an' hit the road west in the direction of Texas somewheres west.

I got me a bunch of road maps but all them maps ain't no help to find Port Aransas. I don't know where the hell Port Aransas is at. Far as I know, it's close to El Paso.....or maybe Dallas. I don't know. At that time, Port Aransas was not populated enough to be on a map. By the time I reach Beaumont, Texas, I figger it's bout time to be ask'n directions. Nobody knowed neither. All they tell me is "it's gotta be somewheres west of Beaumont". But where?

Then I let my "sailor" mind kick in. A port, as in Port Aransas, in usually on the water an' the only water where ya can drive a ship, is the Gulf of Mexico.....that's south an' I end up in Galveston. I ask directions again at a Texaco gas station an' some old timer tells me it's down close to Corpus Christi. A new Texaco map reveals a tiny little fishing village out on a freak'n island....Mustang island by name. A barrier island. I still got me a couple hunnert miles to go. I had a flat tire an' two cops help me change it. One keeps ask'n for my driver license. For 10 minutes he keep ask'n me....an' I delay him with "wait a minute". When the first cop finish tighten the lug nuts, he says...."have a safe trip"....an' I'm out of there lickity split. The other cop is scratch'n his head...he didn't see my driver license. Thank god.

Follow'n the map directions, I pulls up to a little ferry boat. Pays my $1 an' drive up on that thing for a slow trip across the Corpus Christi ship channel. There's only two paved roads in Port Aransas, I follow one of 'em. That paved road leads me to a bunch of neon lit up beer signs in winders. Hmmmmm, I can get me a cold one an' ask if'n anybody know where to find my dad. Before I place my order, I hear this little band play'n in the back corner an' some drunk try'n to sing Hank Snow. Guess who THAT was? I spend the next 3 weeks in Port Aransas before I head back to the ship in Charleston, S. Carolina. I meet all my dad's drink'n buddies, I knows every bar maid on the island by name. I knowed where every poker game was go'n on. I knowed who has wanted posters by the law. I knowed both the local law enforcement officers.This was my dads way of entertain'n his long lost son.....Grrrrrrrr.   

Later I was stationed on another ship out of Galveston. A officer train'n ship. Terrible terrible duty....always out to sea do'n silly shit to train them officers how to scream an' chew ass of enlisted sailors. Many trips was made to Port Aransas on week ends. I met "yo mama" an' we was hitched. I watched the population of Port Aransas increase from bout 400 to 800 in the next couple years. 2012 population 3778....????. Discharged from the Navy in 1966, we finally moved to Port Aransas in 1968 or 69..."Paradise" on the Texas gulf coast.....Yeee haw!

For MsB....I was discharged from the Navy with good conduct honors. Three ribbons for my service. Git'n drunk an' do'n silly stuff ain't grounds for a bad conduct discharge. I think ya gotta punch somebody for that to happen. Ha....did I ever tell ya bout the time...I threatened a office I would push him overboard if'n I caught him on deck at night. I was only josh'n but he thought I mean it. At Captains mast, I was only restricted to ship for 30 days. Me an' Captain, we was tight. 

Back to yesterdays trip. I stop by Walmart to drop off my empty med thingys. "I'll pick 'em up on my way back". After the long wait for the ferrys, I heads to the 2 liquor stores. Pick up me some smokes....10 cartons. At $12.47 a carton for little cigars, I ain't out much. Ha, much much less than if'n I was a Marlboro man at something like $55 a carton. Jesus, I would quit before I pay that much.

I goes by my mail service place an' pick up my mail. Mistake #1 was, I didn't thumb through my mail. Cruised around the island a bit an' headed back to the ferry line, board an' we off the island. Sadie Mae has got to pee. So's we make a stop, let Sadie Mae out to do her business an' sniff all the plants. I sit in the "billy jeep" an' thumb through my mail. YIKES.....what's this??? A post office box rental fee notice. My box rent is due by Feb. 28th. I begin to stress....is my PO box closed. Have I lost all my recent mail? How comes my box rent ain't been paid? I ain't got no phone to call the post office. Ain't got no phone to call my mail service people. My blood pressure goes up. It's 3:15 an' the ferry line is 1 hour wait time long. The post office will be closed.

I'm got myself so stressed out that I done forget all bout my meds at Walmart. I'm go'n a hunnert mile a hour to get back to "da house" an' my phone before the post office shuts down for the day. Ha, I'm 5 minutes late...it's 4:05 an' them suckers don't answer the the freak'n ring'n phone. I calls the mail service people. The nice little girl tells me...."I don't know if we paid the fee or not". I'm bout to puke...I'm too freak'n old for this kind of stuff.

So's I get online. I did this one time before an' pay my box rent. What could be so hard? Well, let me tell ya bout the changes. You have to join some USPS personal account thingy. User names, passwords, name an' address....stuff like that. Well, I ain't got a address. Ain't had one in 12 years. All I got is a PO box number.
Anyhows, I finally give the City Marina address where my sailboat was at. It worked, I'm a registered member of the post office. I'm still stressed. I finally get to my PO box rental fee page an' guess what.....my rent ain't due until Feb 2016. Man....I wipes me some sweat off'n my brows.....sit back an' relax....take me some deep breaths. Light up a smoke an' down a mug of coffee.

Shoot, I can walk a hunnert mile

Ha, for those that missed my comment yesterday....I did some very strenuous exercise. I walked around the yard for a good 500 YARDS, not feet. An' walk'n 500 yards through knee deep grass an' weeds is strenuous. Ha, I can see you MILE walkers shak'n yer heads an' say'n..."I can walk further than Billy Bob".

Now let me tell ya bout walk'n. While I served in the Navy, I walked everwheres. We would get a day "off ship" (liberty) an' I would set off to walk'n. No busses, taxis or horse drawed carriages for this guy, I'm gonna do me some walk'n. An' for the rest of the day, I would wear a good inch off'n my shoes.

Speak'n of shoes, did ya ever "spit" shine a pair of shoes? Back in them old Navy days, shipboard engine rooms was very hot. My switchboard watch was in the engine room. An' it's humid down there. Perfect conditions to shine up a pair of dress shoes. Now there's something bout human spit. Don't know what it is, but you spit on yer shoes an' you gonna end up with a mirror finish. On my 4 hour switchboard watches, I would shine up bout 4 pairs of shoes....at two dollar a pair.

Shoot, while we talk'n bout shiny shoes, let me tell ya bout a night on the town in Kingston, Jamaica. For a little guy, it don't take many beers to git the feel'n.....I was lit up. That's a important requirement if'n you are a sailor. A Jamaican resident wanted my shoes an' he was will'n to pay for 'em. Back then, military sailor shoes costed $6 a pair. I sold my freshly spit shined shoes for a $10 dollar bill....an a pair of authentic Jamaican sandals the guy was wear'n.
Upon arrival back at the ship, this dad gum officer calls me off to the side....an' he chew me up one side an' down the other. "You are out of uniform Billy Bob, sandals are not Navy issue". I'm restricted to the ship for the next 30 days....an' I got to warsh dishes for a week. 

Speak'n of restricted, we was in Key West, Florida. I was perform'n my traditional sailor duties....chas'n wimmins an' git'n drunk. Before I go on any further, Key West had a law back in the 60's....you DO NOT touch a palm tree. You don't even think bout it, 'cause they gonna throw you in jail. I gits back to the ship a few minutes before curfew (midnight), an' I got this great big ol' palm frond in my hand. My god, you would'a think the world was com'n to a end. I'm on 90 days of restriction while all my buddies are "on the beach" perform'n their sailor duties.    

After my tour of duty, I continued to walk. "Hey honey, I'm gonna walk down to the beer joint an' drink me up a "cold one". I've walked hike'n trails, climbed mountains, walked to the corner grocery for a "soda pop". ...I could walk a hunnert miles if'n I had wanted to.

I had me a pair of hand made cowboy boots. You DO NOT go for a walk in cowboy boots. Pay $300 dollar for them things. No they weren't western boots, they was cowboy boots.
I searched the internet....this is as close as I can come, but this gives ya a idea of what black an' white cowboy boots look like. 

Fancy black an' white suckers what I weared to go danc'n, eat at fancy restaurants, weddings an' neighborly back yard BBQ's. Problem was, my calves was too big for comfort from all that walk'n. I'm talk'n tight fit'n boots. I had done walked too much. At the danc'n place, I would take 'em off, an', set 'em up on the table for everbody to see an' do my danc'n sock footed. The girls loved it when I slide all over the floor in my sock feet. Put 'em in a dip.
 
Now days, walk'n is for kids....that is if'n ya can get 'em off their ass text'n each other. Danc'n too if'n ya know what I mean.  Been a few years since I been out on a dance floor. Ha...."hey honey, ya wanna dance a new dance? It's called 'toe step'n'".

Ok, I got me a freak'n car, I don't need to walk no more...I'll drive to Walmart.

I ain't gonna say that yesterdays long walk fixed my feet....still too early to tell. But this morn'n, both feet are [this] close to normal that ya gotta look real hard to see any swell'n. Well maybe not look real hard, but the swell'n is down. Some of the pains is gone. I'll do me another walk today.



 

Anybody can grill chicken, but ain't everybody can set it on fire

Well shoot, looks like if'n I'm gonna go to Georgia this summer, I'm gonna have to locate me a RV park to camp in.

Ya see, when I posted that photo of my new camp'n site at "Yo Mama's RV Resort an' Chicken Farm", Robert has decided to place a building in that spot. Which means my camp'n site will now be in the freak'n alley. Right out there beside to the chicken pen. Smell chicken poop all day long. Snakes an' stuff. Too far for me to walk to the "shop" to build stuff. Well, it ain't really ALL that bad, but I'm think'n I may need to make other arrangements. Robert knows what he's do'n, so it ain't my place to say anything. Other than....Grrrrrrr.

Spring break is over. This means I can get to the island, Port Aransas, without wait'n in a ferry boat line for a couple hours. But it ain't gonna happen today. Stay tuned.

Have ya ever NOT took your blood pressure out of fear of what it might be. I been do'n that for a few weeks now with all this new stuff that's been pop'n up. You know, swolled feet, a big ol' red spot on my arm that don't go away, eyes not work'n right.....just to name a few. Well, I just took it. Ain't as bad as I was expect'n....145/75, but not what I would like to see. I tend to get a bit nervous when it begins to rise.

In a attempt to get me some much needed exercise yesterday, I took me a walk. Now all these "other" walkers post'n on blogs bout how far they walk, they are always talk'n in miles. Ha, I'm talk'n in feet. Something like bout 200 feet or so. An' then I got to figger a way to get back to "da house" so's I can sit down for a few. Ha ha, that sounds funny to only walk a couple hunnert feet an' call it exercise. But that was what it was, I couldn't go no further. Right hip give out on me an' my feet hurt like hell. I'm think'n I need me some more exercise like that. Like a walk around in a big ol' Walmart store....god I love Walmart.

Ok, "Weber grill....I'm gonna beat yer ass". All my life I been knowed to grill up some the best chicken you ever eat in your life. Although, I have set it on fire a few times.....smoke an' flames. But with my Weber grill, I don't even like my grilled chicken. I burn the slap'n hell out a big ol' leg quarter last night. An' this ain't the first time....dry an' black.....on low an' slow. An' that was on a trivet a inch above the grates. I'm gonna have to look into this in the near future. Something ain't right. Too freak'n hot (350 degs) on low an' slow setting. Shoot, that even burns the bottoms of my grilled biscuits.

Pork ribs an' chicken on the grill was always my specialty. Come out perfect ever time. That is unless there was smoke an' flames bellow'n out from under the lid. In a case like that, ya either throw 'em in the dumpster, give 'em to the dog or ya scrape all the burn stuff off an' gobble 'em down fast ya can.

I still recall the time out in Deming, New Mexico, "pesky neighbor" Wayne, he holler at me..."hey Billy Bob, your porch is on fire". Over there in the corner on "da porch" sit my bbq grill....an' you talk bout smoke an' flames, that sucker was ablaze. We ain't talk'n a little fire, we talk'n forrest fire. From experience as a seasoned griller, I knowed exactly what to do...grab holt to the water hose an' douse that sucker with a few gallons of water. Fire out, I continued to grill what was still grillable. Wayne ate at home that night. Sadie Mae an' Lug Nut had a great supper of charred to the bone chicken an' ribs. Take note, certain bones were not fed to my dogs.

Dang I miss my Lug Nut.

 I betcha a dollar Sadie Mae misses him too.












 

   

"LET'S GET MARRIED"....think Lone Ranger

A comment led me to say this...
"I am strickly against marriage....it is the #1 cause of divorce".
Ha....an' the #1 reason your lawyer neighbor drives a Lamborghini.

When you are friends, play mates, companions an' stuff like that, everthing is all fine an' dandy. Hold'n hands, hugs, cuddles....little red roses, sloppy lip lock'n kisses....well shoot, you know what I'm talk'n bout. But....sign that little piece of paper an' "all hell break loose" (proven fact). "I own you". "Do as I say". What's mine is mine, what's yours will be mine too". "I got a headache". See what I'm talk'n bout? Now what's the chances of a marriage NOT be'n like that? Actually not very good at all....something like maybe a 50/50 deal. Ok, I Googled it, an' YUP, I'm right. An' it works both ways.

Now a companion is a different critter all together. In fact, you can trust a companion. They can be your best friend. An' companions ain't prone to have headaches. An' if'n I recall correctly, wimmin companions love cook'n special dinners, warsh'n dishes, sweep'n an' mop'n floors....an' sit'n on the couch all snuggy buggy cuddle up watch'n "love" stories on TV. Ha, try that crap in a marriage....."Hey honey, make me a sammich an' bring me a beer".....see what ya get when ya say that. A companion is the most compromis'n person you will ever meet in yer life. No strings an' no chains....a happy an' healthy relationship in my book.
Now if'n I was bout 30 or 40 years younger, I wouldn't be say'n none this stuff.

We was driv'n through Las Vegas with my companion sit'n in the passenger seat. I was just mind'n my own business ya know, pass'n by a hunnert little street side wedd'n chapels. My companion is look'n at them chapels. She's all sparkle eyed.  Little stars float'n round in there.

 Ha ha....this weren't her....just think she's kind of cute in her own way.

All a sudden, strange sounds burst from her lips...."garble garble garble...LET'S GET MARRIED".
Damn, what was she think'n????  What I seen of Las Vegas on this trip was quickly left behind in a cloud of dust....go'n a hunnert mile a hour.

"A fiery horse with a speed of light, a cloud of dust, and a hearty ‘Hi-Yo, Silver! Away!'"

 

We ain't no better off at Billy Bob's house this morn'n. My mind is all clouded up with a gazillion things I got to do....little things. With one particularly large item....Texas state safety inspection on "Sally da house".  If it was a easy proposition, I would be sit'n in their park'n lot right now. But I got to do my own inspection first. Make sure all the lights work, test the park'n brake an' the regular brakes, buff out the headlights so's they can see if'n they on or off....stuff like that. But, I ain't in no condition to do all that. It's bad enough just to brew up a pot of coffee every morn'n. 

 

I would love to be on the road to Georgia right now, but that's not possible. See above for #1 reason. I have yet to make arrangements to go visit my Texas children, Daniel an' Angela.....an' 5 granyoung'uns. Two I have never met. Their lives are too busy to take time off to come see me, an' I been too busy do'n nuttin to take the time to go see them. It's a sad affair when ya live this close to your kids an' seldom see them. I need to change this an' make things right. Shoot, I ain't gonna be around forever ya know. 

Now, speak'n of that last sentence, that's one of my main reasons I got to get to Georgia soon. There are things go'n on that need to be checked out. An' in Georgia, I have somebody that will see to it that it gets done. Here in south Texas, I just shrug it off as "maybe a nap will help". 

Ok, that's it for the day. Wish I would'a had something to entertain ya with, but my mind is dead this morn'n. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

Take'n me a break

Ha...there will be no blog writ'n today.....

Ya see, I did me some think'n. Think'n bout some the stuff I write. It gets personal on too many levels....like when I mention "first mate Vickie Lynn". My God, I got me a hunnert fun filled stories I could tell ya bout my adventures with Vickie Lynn.....an bout 2 hunnert not so fun stories I could tell ya. I think we'll just leave Vickie Lynn sit'n on the back burner an' not mention her no more. Move on to something more excit'n.

So I'm gonna take the day off an' see if'n I got something left what I ain't already told ya.

Oh wait, I want you take a lookie here at what my son Robert did.

That's my camp'n site where he has the truck parked.

Let's go to Death Vally an' feed the coyotes....2002

Well shoot, here we go again.....what to write?

"How do ya feel today Blly Bob"? Oh hell, I don't feel worth a poop.
"Where ya gonna go today Billy Bob"? Well, I thought bout that for a few minutes....I ain't go'n nowheres.
"Did ya know Billy Bob, the fish are bite'n"? Ha, last time a fish bite me, I got a bad infection.
"Did ya sleep good last night Billy Bob"? Nah, didn't sleep worth a poop.....bout 5 hours.
"What about yer feet, are they still swoled up"? Yup, I'm sit'n here watch'n 'em git bigger by the hour.
 "Well what the hell are ya gonna do"? Hmmmmm, think'n here....probly nuttin.
"What ya gonna eat for supper tonight Billy Bob"? Oh, I don't know, probly breakfast...a big ol' pancake.

Man boy howdy, see what I'm talk'n bout....I ain't got a thing to write today. In other words, my life is at a standstill. An' I don't like that nary a bit. Something is GOT to get better.

Me an' first mate Vickie Lynn pull into Joshua Tree National Park. She's feed'n the coyotes. An' right there on a big ol' sign, it says "Do not feed the critters". The park ranger chew ME out for feeding the animals.
*look'n for photos*....*cain't find 'em*

We went to Death Valley. Vickie Lynn is feed'n the coyotes...an' yeah, there's a sign there too.

Taken at Grand Canyon...
By the way, all these photos are poor quality....taken from a photo album.

Taken Death Valley....

Now let me tell ya bout them coyotes in Death Valley. Ya see, Vickie Lynn didn't believe me when I said coyotes was eat'n the dogs food every night. She gets all lit up one night an' says she's gonna sleep outside....with the her rat terrier dog "Snoopy" an' the cat "Webster". I tells her the coyotes is gonna eat the dog an' cat an' bite hell out her while she's passed out. She sets up her camp, one more big slug of vodka an' she's out like a light.....sleep'n under the awning.

I stays up to keep a eye out for coyotes. Yup, there they are, right on time bout midnight....bout a dozen of 'em. An' them suckers is hungry. I goes outside an' round up the bark'n dog an' the hiss'n cat. Carry Vickie Lynn back inside. Next morn'n I tells her bout all the coyotes that come to visit. She don't believe me.

I goes up to the park office an' pays for one more night, just to prove my point....there are coyotes in Death Valley. Fresh water an' a few big piles of dog food is put out. We was sit'n on the couch look'n out the winder....Vickie Lynn ain't quite lit up yet, but she's well on her way.
"Oh look, a coyote" she screams.

As time pass by, here come a bunch more...an' more sneek'n round out in the bushes. They drink up all the water an' fight over the dog food. It's all gone in nuttin flat. Vickie Lynn believes me now.

Our week stay at Death Vally was a good stay. We went everwheres.

Devils Golf Course... I could go golf ball swak'n here.

The sand dunes.... Man you talk bout a hard climb to the top them dunes.

A freak'n rock..... Now how comes that sucker don't fall over?

We buy all kinds of stuff in the souvenir shops....eat up some hamburgers...tastes something like coyoteburgers or ravenburgers. Hunnerts of ravens. Cool birds.

See that one in the air? He weren't land'n, he were jump'n straight up in the air. Ya see, ever time ya yell, they jump straight up bout two feets. I musta have me a good 14 hours yell'n at them ravens. Then laugh my ass off.
Ha ha, does that make me a raven molester now? 
By the way, Vickie Lynn had places a good 2 pounds of bird seeds out there. "Do NOT feed the critters". 


We see a man die when his Jeep go over a cliff. That was a sad day. Ride a bicycle all around the campground with bells ring'n. *Vickie Lynn had a bunch of bells on her bike* Along with flowers an' a bunch of hippy stuff. It was super cold at night. Run the freak'n battery down on more than one occasion just try'n to stay warm. Had a neighbor I call Wyatt Earp....had a big ol' gun hung on his side. I says to him...."Hey Wyatt, are ya skeered of something in a park full of campers"? Next day his gun was gone....pooof, just like that.

That's Wyatt in the background sit'n outside just wait'n for a outlaw to pull up.

Sorry for the photo quality, but I weren't gonna scan the photos into digital. Shoot, I don't even think I knows how.

Go'n to the dump on a weekend sucks....down in the dumps suck

Since yesterdays post shows a great big ol' skeerter an' a skeeter that big reflects to the great state of Texas....

Did I ever tell ya bout the time....Ya gotta think Galveston, Texas an' wet lands an' "herds" of skeeters. In Texas, when they say things are bigger in Texas, I can attest that "Texas skeeters can be rather big".
Ya see, I was headed home to Texas City from a day in Galveston. I was driv'n a old '57 2 door Ford. Winders roll down an' go'n a hunnert mile a hour. Not a care in the world, I'll be home in nuttin flat.
Putt, putt, putt goes the motor...black smoke com'n out the exhaust pipes. Well shoot, I betcha a dollar that piece of bail'n wire come loose from the choke again. I can fix that in just a second.  "Where's my flashlight"? Git'n dark ya know.

I hears a VAAAROOOOOM, something flys past my head....an' it's wear'n goggles. I swears I hear somebody yell "git out the car". As I exit the driver seat, I am accosted by two Texas skeeters. I swear, they was wear'n Texas Ranger badges on their chests. My driver license is checked, I was frisked for firearms an' drug paraphernalia......open containers. 

That's when back up arrived....thousands of "back up" big ass skeeters stab'n me all over my body with swords, lances an' spears. Welts begin to appear. I'm under the hood in a feeble attempt to put that bail'n wire back in place...swat'n an' cuss'n. It's dark....I'm gonna die if'n this old Ford don't crank up.

One turn of the key an'.....crank crank crank.....sputter sputter sputt sputt....VAROOOOM, we good to go. Ya gotta love a Ford. As I sped away, I could hear a cheer'n crowd in the background. The Texas Ranger skeeters had won another round.

Don't rekon ya would want to hear bout the Texas fire ant fiasco. Ya see, when the old VW bus broke down, it stop right over a fire ant hill....an' I gotta get under that old VW bus. Oh wait, I done tole that story before.....http://billybobsplace.blogspot.com/2013/07/broke-down-in-texas

This blog'n stuff gets harder ever day. Look at yesterday, I didn't want nuttin to do with a blog. This blog ain't supposed to be a "story" blog, it's supposed to be a adventure blog....hav'n a good time out there travel'n on the roads. Talk'n bout them travels. Although stories can be rather entertain'n at times. But stories reflect to the past, not of happen'ns of today. Although, my past can be quite entertain'n too.....depend'n on how ya look at it an' how much spice an' herbs are in it. I've been accused of fabrication, lies, a cat molester, bunghole (nice way to say asshole) an' a downright stupit idiot for say'n some the things I say. Most of them things come from people that lived a overly politically correct "protected" life....an' they are just a tad jealous of the old Billy Bob's past life an' his antics. Look for fault in my words....the ways I say stuff. Look for any reason under the sun to pounce on me....beat my ass. Surprised my spell'n ain't been pounced on. Ha, betcha a dollar that will bring me some more nasty email.

I been told many times...."ya cain't please everbody". I come to realize that as true, but I still try anyhows.
Oh, did you know....there's instructions on the internet on how to write a blog? "Billy Bob, read the instructions". Now who in the hell would ever write a blog by instructions? You ain't build'n no dad gum Chinese toy for the kids to play with, you're writ'n bout your life. An' share'n it with those that have some the same interests. I've lost many many followers since my life has took a turn to the worse. Since my travels are at a standstill. Since I ain't able to do the things I used to do...stuff like that. Lost a bunch from what I was talk'n bout up there too. But I ain't finished yet. Close but not finished. Just wait till I tell ya bout the time....

Yesterday was NOT a good day at Billy Bob's house. I had me a plan to to go outside an' sit in the sunshine, sip'n up a cup an' do'n me some serious think'n. The sky was full of clouds an' it freak'n rained. But that ain't the only reason I had a bad day....I hurted like hell. Something is just gotta be done bout this back. An' look at these swelled up feet.....big ol' balloons again. I ain't got no donuts, no cookies, out of eggs, milk is sour an' the bread is got green spots. Shit like that don't make a good day. Three naps, a bore'n golf game....I don't know all these new people play'n golf, sit'n on my ass do'n nuttin....yup, a bad day.

A trip to Georgia??? As of yesterday, maybe not. Stay in Sinton, Texas? God I hope not. Go to the lake for a month?....why would I do that? Go to California?....Oh hell no, I would never make it. Montana? Shoot, there ain't no authentic Mexican food in Montana. Sides that, they eat Indian fry bread in place of tortillas.
So there ya have it....I ain't got nowheres to go an' no reason to be there.
 

Extermination in progress

Today's post has been exterminated.

There will be no stories today.....maybe

There will be no stories today. It's not that I don't have many more to tell, I just ain't gonna tell ya one today.

Ok, the dreaded read'n material....sorry, here it comes....Billy Bob's hobbies.
Although there is a slim possibility that I will build a freak'n sail'n boat, I'm still all exciris just think'n bout it. So excitis that I fire up the printer yesterday an' print out another one them layout picture thingys. A full scale layout drawing that covers more than half my desktop. It turn out 35 1/2 inches long an' bout 14 inch tall after I got all them print pages taped together. That's 14th scale. With both masts installed, I would have me a 5 foots tall sail'n boat....or there abouts. Nobody in their right mind would EVER put a model boat in their motorhome THAT big. Or would they????

The hull will would be constructed with the age old "plank an' frame" method like the Columbus ships was built when he took a sail'n trip to America. This is the most tedious method of build'n a boat hull that was ever invented. By none other than the renowned "Noah, the ship builder". He may have invented the table saw too. Along with Black an' Decker jig saws an' drills.
Hmmmmm.....wonder what Noah's last name was.

Poor Alice ain't had no attention in bout a week or so. But I'm sooo disgusted with Alice. That dad gum 1/4 inch I cut off the bottom is badly needed back. It can NOT be added back. And this makes me want to throw both hands in the air an' toss Alice in the dumpster. Start over??? Nope, I got over 2 hunnert hours in this thing, no way I'm go'n through that again. So Alice just sits here on the desktop "do'n nuttin" while I sit here dream'n bout a dag gum sailboat.
Maybe that's why I been tell'n ya sail'n stories.

I used to ride horses ya know. Although it's been many many years since I climb on one, I still got me some good memories. Ride'n bareback, stupit horse stand'n on my foot, walk'n back from the mountains....stuff like that.

Back in the 50's, there was cowboy picture shows on TV every Saturday. I watched 'em all. Even Roy Rodgers an' Gene Autry.  Watch then cowboys jump off porch roofs, off great big ol' boulders, out of trees, an' they land dead center in the saddle an' ride away. Well shoot, I betcha a dollar I can do that.

We rented some horses an' ride over to Uncle's house. We all sit'n on the front porch, bout 4 us adventurous teenage boys BS'n. Here come some girls walk'n down the street an' come up in the yard....up on da porch....giggl'n an' stuff....pretty little things. Tom Sawyer "antics" strike my mind like a sledge hammer, I'm gonna impress them girls an' mount that horse right off'n this porch. "Gerry, back that horse up right there....that's good, now watch this" You already know what's gonna happen don't ya? I takes me a run across the porch an' makes my fantastic jump. I place my hands on the horses hind quarters, just like in the cowboy shows, an' I'm all line up for the perfect saddle land'n an' ride off in the sunset. But....the instant my hands hit that horses hind quarters, he take off lickity split across the yard. I'm dangl'n in mid air with no horse under me. When I hit solid ground, I had NOT impressed no girls. End of story. But I could walk a picket fence though. Tom Sawyer ain't got nuttin on the Billy Bob. "Hey Becky, watch this".

Speak'n of impress'n the cute little girls.....we all went up to the Kern river for a outing....picnic an' swim'n in the river...stuff like that. There was this dad gum rope swing out over the river an' the swim hole. Well shoot, I can do that. "Hey girls, watch this". I climbs the hill well beyond the regular launch spot. I launch. I'm out over the river, much higher than I'm supposed to be. I let loose to the rope....I fly higher. My god, I'm gonna die. I hit the water with a big splash, arms an' legs go'n in every direction....I'm scream'n "MOMS".

There ain't nobody tole me this water was 25 feet deep. I was think'n I would just walk out with my chest all puff up an' smile to the young ladies. Impress 'em ya know. You git the picture don't ya? I was "rescued" after I sinked a few times. Not allowed on the rope swing no more an' I'm sit'n over there under a tree all by myself, in shame, while everbody else is hav'n a good ol' time. Never went back to the river again after that day.

Remind me some day to tell ya bout the time I learn how to water ski.....an' almost drown.  "Ya gotta let loose the rope Billy Bob".

Ok, that's it for another excit'n day. Maybe tomorrow I'll have something of more interest.

Oh wait, for those that like to eat, I made me up a dish I'm gonna make again. It started out to be my delicious "Italian Chicken", but with pork an' not chicken. But as I was cook'n, it took another turn. Ya see, after I done glazed up them pork steaks an' took 'em out the pan, I throws in the onions an' tater slices to glaze. A small amount of chicken stock is added.....an' a can of mushrooms. Damn, that smells some kind of good. At that point I changed the recipe to "bite size pork steak, taters, mushrooms an' noodles". In two days it's gone.....pooof, just like that.

For the record.....my record. The ol' balloon feet is much better this morn'n. Swell'n only down by the toes....makes it hard to walk or to even stand for any length of time. An' I got dishes to warsh. An' a freak'n grass clip'ns floor to sweep. Dang, housework never ends.  Sucks too.

Laters.....      

My god Google, what are you do'n to me???

It's been some time now that I been complain'n bout the way Blogger (Google) acts. You know, not updat'n posts on follower lists an' only show'n the day befores blog post. It ain't only me that it happens to, so it ain't only me that gets all piss off.

Blogs that don't have a follower list of all their favorite blogs, they don't have this problem....mainly 'cause they cain't SEE the problem.....'cause they ain't got no freak'n follower lists to look at.  What also don't give their followers a opportunity to see the blogs they read. That's kind of like hiding the cookie jar so's nobody else can enjoy the cookies. Hmmmmm, maybe I contact Obama an' have him write a executive order mandating every blog is to have a "blogs I follow" follower list.
But anyhows, I'm think'n it's all a conspiracy by Google. Ya see, when ya grow up an' you're the biggest on the block, ya punish those that don't use your product. In other words, ya piss 'em off until they delete Firefox from their computers an' download "Google" Chrome. Internet Explorer should already be deleted for ALL computers.....old an' new.

Yesterday, an' a few days before, when I published my nonsense with Firefox, it did not update on other blogger followers lists. Simple as that....it weren't there. Been do'n that for a couple years now. So's I fired up Chrome yesterday, edited my blog post an' hit publish. Ha, there it was on every blog across America. Updated 2 minutes ago.

Dang, I was sit'n here read'n yesterdays blog post. Holy crap, it were a freak'n book. "Ya write too much nonsense Billy Bob". I cain't help it when my mind is all active an' stuff, I just got to write it all down an' smash the "publish" button. I learn that in school many many years ago....write shit down. George Washington birth....April 37th, 1865. Damn, where I write that down???? I rekon I could change my style an' only write a couple lines ever day. That would please a few, but shoot, there are some people that like to read all my nonsense....whether it makes sense or not. No, I ain't chang'n nuttin......git over it.

It was a beautiful day. Skys full of blar'n sunshine bout 85 or 90 degs, a nice breeze out the southeast....let's go out in the gulf of Mexico in the little sail'n boat. It's just a short trip from the University of Texas boat docks out to the deep blue seas an' moderate bout 4 foot swells. Ok, sail'n is sort of like fly'n a big ol' airplane. Ya gotta do yourself some research....weather forecasts, wind directions, incoming traffic...an' tidal currents in the Corpus Christi ship channel. Now when ya only got a little hole, the Port Aransas jetties, for a mega-bagazillion gallons of water to flow in an' out of the bays on a daily schedule, that current through that little hole is gonna be devastating at times. Like when ya wanna go sail'n in the gulf.

I tells the supervisor I'm sick an' gotta go home for the rest of the day....I'm go'n sail'n..

It's 10am when I release them dock lines, crank up the "fixed" little kicker motor an' head out in the middle the channel. What the hell, current is flow'n. I'm pointed for the open seas, raise the mainsail an' lay back...I'm a sail'n boat Captain.

As I pass the University science pier, I notice the entire maintenance crew cheer'n me on. I only got bout a mile or so to go to the gulf. The current grows stronger, I'm not mak'n much headway. A hour later, I'm still in the ship channel, tack'n right an' left, plow'n head on into huge ass swells. Water com'n over the bow.
"Oh shit, what am I do'n?? There ain't no way I'm gonna survive these treacherous 8 to 10 foot swells build'n up between the jetties, I got to go back to dry land. I fires up the little kicker motor, just to make sure the sucker will start. The mainsail is let down an' I turn this little boat around.

Now I'm riding huge ass swells from the back end. It's rough out here....the little kicker motor do'n it's best to keep me on a straight course. An' that's when it happen.

I got one hand on the tiller an' the other on the kicker motor. We are overtaken by a big ass swell, the kicker motor is scream'n  to the tune of bout 10,000 rpms...."put me back in the water". That's when it jumps off'n the back of the boat. Now I got me a scream'n motor in my hand, not hook up to nuttin an' get'n ready to blow. I manage to shut it down an' gently place it on the cockpit deck....I got me a pair of shorts to clean.

The current is now my only means of mak'n headway. I have no rudder control. I'm headed for the University pier. A few of the maintenance crew is cheer'n me on. Now if'n I run into that pier, I'm gonna do some damage. The freak'n boat is gonna sink an' there's a good possibility I'm gonna drown. The kicker motor is placed back on the transum an' tighten down.....an' I'm pray'n to the high heavens that that sucker will crank up an' still run. I ain't got much time, the pier is clos'n in on me.
One pull....just one pull an' that sucker is fire up an' I'm headed for the safety of the dock. Tie 'er up an' proudly walk away. Just in time for afternoon coffee break in the cafeteria. I need a dose of coffee bad. One feller says to me..."Billy Bob, you could a been killed do'n stunts like that". I just reply...."I'm a seasoned sailor, tweren't nuttin to it". Under my breath, I'm prais'n my maker an' kiss'n the dry earth I stand on. Ain't often you live to tell bout it. Why the hell is sail'n a boat so damn hard???

For the record....I wore my back brace all day yesterday. No pain pills were required. Pain level drop to 50%. Half hour after removal, I took me up two 500mg aspirins. Feet still have swell'n to 'em. Not near as bad as a couple days ago. Very much better this morn'n. Will continue to monitor.

While we are on the subject of sail'n boat Capt'ns an' sail'n boats....yesterday I fire up my printer. I turn this....

into this....

  
That's 33 inches of romp'n stomp'n remote control "Coyote" sail'n boat sit'n there. Look at the boat damn it, not the mess on the desktop. Calculated out, this is a 15.3th scale. Think'n more on the lines of 14th scale (35.14") or 12th scale (41").....a couple or three or nine more inches in length. Yes I have room to display it in any scale. Even if I move my desk back to the other side where it belongs, it will still fit.

There was one more thing I wanted to touch on this morn'n. Now what the hell was it??? Maybe I'll remember by tomorrow. See ya then.

See what I'm talk'n bout??? Google did it again. We'll try a update with Chrome.


        

I collect stuff.....hoard

Dang, the days are get'n longer an' what does the old Billy Bob do? He takes a nap.....in bright daylight.

But really, I didn't have much choice. Ya see, I sit in "that chair" for a long time yesterday with my feet prop up as far as they would go. Try'n to let some air out these balloon feet....with little success. I know, let's try the back brace an' see what that do. Have ya ever try to take a nap with a back brace on?

When I got up this morn'n, much later than usual, both feet is look'n normal. Hot damn, I'm good to go.
Brewed me up a pot an' sit myself down in front the computer....read'n news, Facebook'n an' check'n out the blogs. My freak'n feet is swoled up. So.....this tells me something, don't sit down. Have ya ever try to NOT sit down when ya cain't stand up but a few minutes at a time? This shit sucks.

It all started when I was just a little tyke. I started collecting stuff. Broke toys, radios that don't work....stuff like that. When I take somethig apart an' put it back together, I save all the left over nuts, bolts an' screws...extra parts. Don't know where they come from, but I'm gonna save 'em. I keeped "broke" stuff. Bent bicycle wheels, warped pieces of wood, worn out hand tools, a prop off'n a antique outboard boat motor.....I don't throw nuttin away.
My workbench at the University of Texas......

  Maintenance workers would ask me...."Ya got one of these"? Well I sure do. "Hey Billy  Bob, have ya got a throttle cable for a lawn mower"? Well I sure do. "Billy Bob, I need this special bolt, have ya got one"? Well I sure do. I need a gate hinge....I got one. An' this was only at work at the university. Ya should'a see my stash at home. No room in the garage for a car.

Only in the last few years have I begun to reduce my "hoard" stock. Carry'n around a extra thousand pounds of "stuff" in a motorhome ain't really the way to travel ya know. But no matter how much stuff makes it to the dumpsters, there is still not enough room for all the new stuff I pick up. Let's take my hobby stuff for instance. Remember when I put shelving in the closets for more storage room? Ya wanna know what's on 5 of them shelves? I even still have the box from when I builded the Mississippi river boat. Three years? Four years?"Sally da house" needs a good purge.
But, when ya build stuff, all this collection I keep is very very important....I may need this screw some day. The threads on that bolt are still good. I can always use a piece of 2x4.
But I did throw something away the other day. A non-work'n battery charger I pick up out of the trash in Del Rio a couple three years ago. OFM Barney may remember that charger. Ha, golf clubs? I got three full sets an' a great big pile of extras under my bed. Ya don't throw golf clubs in a dumpster.....sheesh, ya save 'em.

Now that I'm much older than when I started collect'n stuff, this shit is got to go. I don't sell stuff. I either give it away or it goes in the dumpster. Damn, I'm need'n a BIG dumpster. Ha, more like a kitchen trash bag the way I toss stuff. "Nope, may need that".

Ok, I was sit'n there in "that chair" last night an' I got to think'n....I don't like the desk sit'n where there's supposed to be a couch. It needs to be back over here where I designed it to be. I liked it over here. This is go'n on my "to do" list. Will I or won't I, that's the question. Only time will tell. But I'll guarantee ya one thing, if'n I find me a comfortable couch, it's gonna happen.
"Where ya gonna put the recliner Billy Bob"? Not the dumpster I hope. Over there where I got my boat models, one on a shelf an' one on a cabinet...."that chair" will fit perfectly. Then all I got to figger out is where to put the cabinet. A good possibility the passanger seat will be removed an' throwed in the dumpster. Cabinet an' boat fit there perfect.

I was gonna tell ya a story today, but it's way too late now to be do'n that kind of stuff. Think'n I may do a little housework, warsh dishes an' sweep all the grass out "da house". Lay back an' take it easy. Prop my feet up...take a nap. Damn, retirement life sure do have some advantages.

Oh wait a minute, did I ever tell ya bout the time.....me an' "first mate" Vickie Lynn was camped on the beach in Port Aransas (2002). We was sit'n inside eat'n up a sammich. Me sip'n up a cup an' Vickie Lynn half lit up on vodka. When all a sudden here come a big ol' pick up truck go'n a hunnert mile a hour. They blow'n the horn, laugh'n up a storm an' they come [this] close to Alice....bout 3 feets. On the third time they come fly'n up the beach, Vickie Lynn is done pissed. She grab holt to the full trash bag an' toss it out the door bout the time that pick up come fly'n by. BABAAAAMMM!!!!, that trash bag hit that pick up slap in the middle the windshield. The pick up lose control an' goes into the surf....them boys cuss'n up a storm. That was the last we see or hear of "that" pick up truck for the rest of the weekend. Camp'n on the beach in Port Aransas is cool.

Ok, Firefox didn't update my blog. This is with Chrome.....hope it works.     

A freak'n update.....Grrrrrrrr.....Balloon feet....damn!!!

Update on the top side. Now this is downright piss'n me slap off, my blog did not post an' update on othere's blogs. That is unless you type in the addy. Or something like that.
I am now on Google Chrome in a attempt to post a blog I posted bout 6 hours ago.


Yikes, damn, whoa.....yesterday sucked.

Ya see, I was sit'n here at the computer finish'n up yesterdays blog post. I got to go pee. While stand'n there do'n my thing, I look down at my poor ol' swolled up feet. My god, they look like balloons an' hurt like hell. I'm gonna go prop my feet up for a while. I fall asleep....wake up....fall asleep....wake up.....damn this sucks.
Got 'em down a bit last night with a good massage...rub hell out 'em. All swolled up this morn'n. I ain't got no epson salt for a good soak'n, but I gonna do it without the epson salts anyhows. In a 5 gallon bucket.
Oh wait, my 5 gallon buckets are full of poop.

Got me some printer cartridges yesterday. I'm gonna attempt to do some print outs of "Coyote".

Not that I'm gonna build "Coyote", but just to experiment with the possibility. Even though I think it's a wonderful project, there are a ton of cons in it's construction. Like I ain't never sail a remote control sail'n boat. Like where the hell do I store 6 foot masts an' sails? Like how long will this project take? Like do I have a spare $2000 just lay'n round do'n nuttin? Decisions, decisions.  

Mostly, all ya gonna get for a while is stories....until I get to feel'n better an' can do something excit'n....or adventurous. That may be quite some time with the way things are go'n.

Today I was gonna tell ya bout the time I lost air in the ferry boat ramps. With ferry boats wait'n to go across the channel. Sailboat don't go no wheres with no wind. I got a white Captain's hat on....I'm seasoned ya know.  Kicker motor don't start.
But I ain't go'n that route this morn'n. Then I thought I would tell ya bout the time I tryed everway under the sun to turn a old 1936 Dodge car over. It's impossible. Then I thought I would take me a trip back to the farm an' me scream'n "Moms". But shoot, with my loss of memory an' already tole ya bout the farm, that's out too. My only memories of the farm this morn'n, is my "pet" chicken....what we ate an' be'n a rodeo star rid'n cow puppies.

When I tole my "cat" stories, the "politically correct" followers jump my case....beat my ass. There will be no cat stories today. Well, maybe I could tell ya bout "Webster". Webster was bout the worstest an' meanest cat I ever allowed in my house (Alice). Cook'n fish, that damn cat climb up on the counter an' steal my fish right under my eyes. Climb up my arms while I'm sleep'n. Leave big ol' fingernail hole in my arms. Yes blood. For no reason other than to be a mean.ass cat. Grab holt to yer leg with them claws an' bite hell out you. Open the door....poooof, he's gone, just like that. Don't come back in until HE is ready, not when the RV park people tell me I gotta go. Two hours it take that damn cat to come back home.

I returned to Port Aransas from a California trip. Pull into the IGA park'n lot to pick up some groceries. I look up there on the dashboard....there's Webster tak'n a him doze. I quietly ease the door open....poooof, there goes Webster across the park'n lot a hunnert mile a hour. That was the last time I see that dad gum cat....thank god.

Well shoot, I ain't got no "good" stories for today, so's I'm out of here. If'n the printer thingy works out right, I may tell ya bout it in a update...but probly not.

Loud ass horns.....it's a ship

Ha, if'n ya think Billy Bob'b Place was boring yesterday, just wait an' see what I write today.

With yesterdays sciatica episode, I didn't do a damn thing. With all that morn'n sunshine we had, I was plan'n to go outside an' jump on the "billy bike" an' take me a long ride to Calallen.....do me some grocery shop'n. I figgered by the time I returned an' put all them groceries away, I would have plenty time to run up to the golf course an' play me a couple 18 hole rounds. But, as it turned out, the sunshine died......poooof, just like that. Little rain drops start fall'n from all them clouds. My wonderful day was totally destroyed.

Remember I was tell'n ya bout how my feet has been hurt'n more than usual? Well shoot, it's no wonder they hurt, them suckers is all swoled up again. When my feet swell up like this, I get a little nervous. What could be caus'n it? What can I do to fix it? Am I gonna die from swoled up feet an' not something normal, like a heart attack? This shit sucks.

Before I bought my  41' Formosa ketch sail'n boat, I purchased a sunk 22' Catalina sail'n boat. All it needed was to be pumped out so's it would float again an' give it a good warsh job inside an' out. The little kicker motor had been under water for a couple months, so's it had to be brung back to working order with a complete disassemble an' a internal warsh job.

Look just like this one.....

I didn't know the first thing bout sail'n no boat. All I knowed was what I read from a couple books. Shoot, I'm think'n "I can do this".

I take the afternoon off from work (University of Texas) an' go down to the boat slips. There sits my little sail'n boat....high an' dry. I loosen the lines an' climbs aboard....we go'n sail'n. Fires up the little kicker motor an' head out to sea. Actually it was the Corpus Christi ship channel. That's where big ol' ships go by ya know. When I'm far enough so's I don't crash into the rock jetties, I put the kicker motor out of gear, leav'n it run'n just in case. Just in case happen real quick like. The mailsail won't go up. Hung slap up....now it won't even come down. The wind catches what little sail I have (half ways up the mast) an' I'm headed for the rock jetty. I'm frantically try'n to get the sail either up or down....at this point, what does it really matter? I kicker motor further out into the channel towards the north jetty. The sail is finally loosen an' I winch that sucker all the way up. I'm sail'n....towards the south jetties.

There's people from work watch'n me, I got to make this look like I know what I'm do'n. I give 'em a great big "sailor" wave an' sit down at the tiller (steer'n wheel). I point the little Catalina towards Corpus Christi....but I ain't go'n to Corpus Christi. I'm only on step #1 to "how to sail a sailboat". Thoughts go back to the books I read, I trim the mainsail. My god, I'm go'n a hunnert mile a hour. I sit back an' relax....what could possibly go wrong?

That was when I hear in the not far distance....a loud ass horn. I says, "now who the hell is blow'n a loud ass horn"? MY GOD, it's a huge freak'n ship bear'n down on me...go'n much much faster than I am. I got to git outta here, an' fast...simple as that. It should be noted at this time....do not sail in the middle of a ship channel where ships travel. The little kicker motor start right up....on bout the 25th pull of the starter rope. I'm clear of the ship, let's get back to sail'n. I swear to God, it weren't 30 minutes, an' here come that dad gum horn blow'n again. It's another ship, an' I'm back in the middle of the channel. The freak'n kicker motor refuses to start...."OH SHIT". By now I am a seasoned sailor, I can do this....I sail towards the Aransas Pass shrimp boat channel. I'm done with this dad gum "ship" channel. I'm fight'n to stay on a straight course...weav'n right an' left for the next half hour an' I ain't mak'n no progress in any direction but the wrong direction. 

A little sailboat passes me by. The nice sailor waves an' shouts back to me as he zoooms by...."have a nice day". Ha, does this look like I'm hav'n a nice day???

As soon as I sail into the Aransas shrimp boat channel, the wind ceases to a little puff here an' there. I'm in trouble. The motor don't start an' I'm go'n somewheres I don't want to go...aground. Fortunately, I went aground on the side of the channel where I could walk back home if'n necessary. An' I was think'n it certainly could be necessary. I throws the anchor overboard.....just in case ya know. My god, I forgot to warsh all the mud off'n the anchor rope....I'm covered in mud.

Any time I go somewheres, I go with a good assortment of tools. I got a motor to fix an' it needs fixed before dark. The carburetor is pulled. A good look see shows a little piece of blue silicon in the main jet. Silicone was used as a gasket during overhaul. YOU DO NOT USE BLUE SILICONE as a gasket that comes in contact with gasoline. The anchor come loose. I'm float'n down the shrimp boat channel drag'n the anchor behind. I'm covered with sweat an' mud an' I got a carburetor lay'n in my lap.

I reinstall the carburetor an' I sit there an' crank an' crank on that dad gum motor. That kicker motor don't make a sound. "Psssssst Billy Bob, turn the gas on". Well shoot, who would ever think of that? Gas on, kicker motor fire right up...."I'm go'n back to the slip". Yup, you guessed it....loud ass horn.

Back at the slip an' all tied up, I'm hav'n me some serious thoughts bout this sail'n stuff. Sail'n is supposed to be easy....todays sail was not at all easy day.
The next day, fellow workers ask me if'n I had any problems. I says...."no problems, a very nice day of sail'n on the water".

Ya wanna hear bout the time I hold up (blocked) the ferry boat haul'n people to Port Aransas?
Took my daughter Angela on a sail one time. Said she would never sail with me again. What the hell, I'm her daddy.

A little housework was done yesterday. Dishes all warshed up, floors sweeped, trash is out....I took me a nap. That was my excit'n day. 

A trip to California in photos....just do'n stuff

Dang, it gets harder every day to write something on this blog. I've done told all the good stories bout my younger days. I've posted pics of great big ol' fish I catched. Pics of holes in the "bubba boat" what almost sinked me in a hunnet feet of water. Pics of lakes an' rivers I've camped at. Mountains an' cows. Cactus, big ol' oak trees....stuff like that. I ain't hardly got anything left.

Me an' Alice went to California. We took Boudreaux with us.

 Aunt Myrt had fall down an' breaked her hip. I gonna be her nurse for the next 6 months. I parked Alice in the lot next door. Hook up water an' electric an' I'm set. It was late summer time before I headed back east to Texas. Hotter 'an hell in July an' August. An' I ain't got no dash air cond.

The drive to California only take 3 days of day an' night driv'n (1500 mile). When I left the wonderful state of Texas, it was chilly. In fact, it was downright cold as I headed west. Gas mileage went from 6.8 mile a gallon down to 4.8 mile a gallon on the coldest days. Something is not right. Ah Ha...."Change the thermostat Billy Bob". All was fine after that.

Right outside my door was a tree. In the tree was a humming bird nest. In that nest was 2 itty bitty eggs. Now that mama humming bird would fly into Alice every morn'n just to say "good morn'n Billy Bob" an' then she tell me "stay the hell away from my nest". We was pretty tight talk'n like that every morn'n. I watched them eggs hatch into two little tiny birds. No feathers or nuttin.....ugly little things. Then I watch 'em grow into little "speed demon" fly'n machines....mama hummingbird still visiting an' hav'n a chat every morn'n.

 Then they was all gone.....pooof, just like that. I saved that bird nest for right bout 8 years. My cat Mickey chewed it slap up a couple years later. Damn cat!!! Repaired with hair spray an' put it back on the shelf.
Throwed in dumpster last year.

This was the year I painted the "little red bronco".

This was the year I built the airplane.

This was the year I purchased a remote control rac'n truck, high dollar batteries an' a rather expensive battery charger. I never won a race.
Ha, searched my whole computer...there are no photos of the rac'n truck.

Many trips into the mountains search'n out likely gold prospect'n spots. Ha, there are hunnerts of mountains.

Now that may not look very steep in the photo, but let me tell ya, that sucker is 4x4 only steep. Somewheres bout 5000 feet with Ridgecrest an' the China Lake Naval base in the valley. 

 Ok, I ain't got nuttin else to entertain ya with....so's I'm out of here till next time.
Oh wait, I couldn't walk this morn'n. Something went haywire in my lower back last night an' I have a very bad case of sciatica this morn'n. I ain't gonna say nuttin bout get'n old, but damn, get'n old sucks.

Stress sucks

Well shoot, it looks like I done blowed another week...it's Saturday. An' I didn't even know it until cartoons come on on the TV this morn'n. This is the first sign of a "professional" retired old fart. There ain't many retirees that have hit this point in their lives where it don't matter what day it is. They are on a schedule an' if'n you live by schedule, you know what day it is days before it gets here. Try to figger that out.

Say what? Am' I gonna give up on golf ball swak'n? As long as I can pull that golf cart right up to my golf'n ball, I have no plans to quit. Now I ain't say'n that there won't be "the day" that I will have to quit, but it ain't today. Shoot, I still got me a "hole in one" I got to make yet. An' then there's the "holy grail" of golf for old folks, to break 80. Ha, I ain't quite make it yet. In fact, there ain't very many players that ever break 80. I come pretty close one time with a 80, but that damn last hole eat my lunch slap up with 6 strokes (double bogie).

Man boy howdy, I sure am hav'n me a rough time try'n to figger out this years travels. If'n I could just get myself a little bit excitis bout a trip, I would jump on it in a minute. At this point, I got a trip to the Austin Texas area to visit a couple my kids an' grandkids. Am I excitis? Well hell no, not really. Then there's the trip back to Georgia. I ain't all that excitis bout that trip neither. This stress is kill'n me.

Speak'n of the trip to Georgia, I'm think'n bout get'n them dad gum nerves killed. I mean, like what could possibly go wrong? I got me a ton of insurance, so it ain't gonna cost me nuttin. An' there's a good possibility I may be pain free for a while. Shoot, that would be some kind of cool even if it don't last very long.

"Sally da house" needs a bath. I was sit'n outside yesterday an' I look at all the dirt an' crud stuck to her sides....something gotta be done. Damn, it gonna take me a week to warsh "da house". Warsh 5 minutes, sit down 10. Warsh 5 minutes, sit down 10.....yup, that's right at a week. Think'n maybe Frank could use some extra change $$$$$ in his pocket. "Frank, come here a sec, I got a proposition to make with ya". We'll see how that pans out.

Ok, I done figger out I ain't a cook no more. Too much stuff is get'n screwed up. Last night I grill me up half a pizza. I screw that up. This pot of chili ain't so good. The gumbo weren't all that good. A while back, I screwed up a pot of pork stew.....Sadie Mae an' the cats loved it. Nuttin tastes right. That leaves me with 3 choices, eat out, eat out of a can or eat not so good cook'n. Dang, old age is begin'n to suck.
"Ha HA Billy Bob, where you been the last 5 years"???? 

This is it. I ain't got a thing to write about. I'm go'n outside an' sit in the beautiful sunshine....do some think'n. 



  


 

Oh no, not Spring Break

Holy cows, look outside.....sunshine. The sunshine is shin'n on my Walmart special temp thingy, so I knows it ain't 101 degs out there. There ain't many clouds in the sky so I knows it's gonna be a special day. Dang, I been wait'n for this day for months. There will be NO housework done today.

I was camped in Del Rio, Texas one time. My campsite had big ol' grass grow'n all over it. I mowed the grass....with a pair of scissors. The next day, here come the US Government weed eat'n people. Dang!!!

Boy howdy, you talk bout RV park hunt'n. I fount a whole bunch of 'em up there close to Austin, Round Rock an' Granger. I mentioned this a couple days ago.....if'n your RV is over 10 years old....move on. Three out of them 8 RV parks have that rule. Another says "pets welcome"....if'n they weigh less than 10 pounds. Now what kind of rule is that? "No cats"? What the hell??? Anyhows, RV park rentals ain't all that bad.....bout $300 to $350 a month....plus electric. The CEO campsites in Granger wouldn't let me get any information on rates an' availability sites.

Billy Bob Chili. Well shoot, this is what ya get when ya try so save a buck. I went to HEB for 80/20 hamburger meat. This is NOT the same 80/20 hamburger meat I get at any Walmart. This stuff (not my exact wording) sucks. I cooked it up. Then I skim 1/2 cup of nasty look'n grease off'n the top. I tastes the cooked meat......cardboard, or something like that. All ingredients are added. I have me a great big ol' pot of "not so good" chili. "Calling Doctor Billy Bob....FIX the chili please". Fingers crossed an' all theat stuff.

Spend a couple hours yesterday work'n on the "Alice" project. All the little bitty wood strips are added to the passenger side.

 We have a motorhome with compartment doors. The decision has been made to leave Alice the color she is. Now all I got to do is figger out how to install all the decal lines. Paint on or stick on???? Problem with stick on is that after time, they shrink. Ha, you should see my airplane with the stick on decal lines (pin striping).

Well shoot, I rekon the old Billy Bob done screw up. I need to make a trip over to the island (Port Aransas) an' guess what's happen'n over there? SPRING BREAK. 03/09/2015 - to 03/20/2015. Ya don't go to Port Aransas dur'n spring break....simple as that. I 'member one time, many year ago now 1988, Joan Jett come to Port Aransas for a beach concert. There was 100,000 drunk scream'n kids throw'n beer cans an' stuff like that. The concert had to be cancelled. I just happened to be in the area an' it took me 4 hours to wrangle my way through all the traffic go'n 0 to 5 mile a hour.

 Never again.

I swear, I betcha a dollar, I sleeped a good 12 hours yesterday an' last night. I don't sleep that much, it ain't right. Ha, my mean ol' cousin out there in California call me a "black sheep" one time for sleep'n. Ya see, I show up at uncles house late one night an' crash on the couch. Bout noon the next day, my cousin's friend ask her "who's good look'n hunk sleep'n on your couch"? "Oh, that's just my 'black sheep of the family' cousin Billy". I ain't never forgit that. 

Well shoot, it's too nice a day out there to be sit'n in front of a computer. I'm gonna do something....outside.