?

?

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Recipe right here.....have fun

Ok, as sick as I am an' weren't gonna post nuttin today.....here's the recipe.

Actually, I ain't a recipe cooker person. I cook by what looks good....like them veggies....Cajun gumbo veggies.

The first thing ya got to do is jump in the car an' go to Walmart. They got the good stuff. An' speak'n of good stuff, ya never use generic cheap crap in ANY thing ya cook. Go name brand. Who wants to eat green beans growed in Sadia Arabia or somewheres like that.

Ok, here's what yer gonna but, if'n you want a BIG pot of Billy Bob beef vegetable noodle stew soup.

2 1/2 pound chunk of beef. The cheap stuff with some marble an' some fat on it. The meat don't contain the flavor, the marble an' fat do.

Pick up a couple paks of McCormick Beef stew seasoning. It's not really needed, but it sure do enhance the flavor of the finished product. Don't be cheap, McCormick is the only way to go.

Secret ingredient....Swanson beef broth. It got to be Swanson....an' ya need 2 of the 32 oz.containers or bout 4 or 5 cans.

In the froze food, you got a hunnert choices on vegetables. I've used "stir fry" veggies, I've used mixed vegs., but I like the cajun gumbo veggies the best. Get ya 2 of  'em for a big pot 2 pounds or 1 pound for a small pot. You DO have a big pot don'tcha? I'm rekon mine is bout 6 or 8 quarts.

The rest the stuff, ya probly got at home. That is unless ya ain't got no taters, onions, carrots an' wide egg noodles. That's the curly ones ya know.

Put that big pot on high heat with some oil in it. Bout 1/4 cup will do just fine.
You're gonna start cut'n up that meat now. In bout 1 inch or a bit bigger....your choice. Throw it in the pot an' stir it up so's the oil coats it all. Ha, we gonna kind of sorta brown it a bit now.
Now, while the meat is cook'n, grab ya a med. onion. Chop up bout 2/3rds that onion an' toss it in with the meat. It should be noted right now, don't put the onions in first. A hand full of salt an' pepper can be added now....but remember, salt can be added at any time, but can never be took out. Use small hand fulls. *think'n bout a tablespoon at this time* Put ya a cup of water in there an' put a lid on it. Lower the heat an' let 'er cook for bout 30 minutes.....tenderizes the meat.

Ok, taters are next. What is soup without taters? But before ya put taters in the pot, add both them beef broth thingys. Bring it to a boil. Two cups of bite size taters will do fine. Throws 'em in. For God's sake, peel them suckers. Ain't noboy eat taters with skin on 'em. Take my word for it....PEEL THEM TATERS.
It's now time for the carrots. Don't be skimpy, a bit over a cup full will work. Throw 'em in.
Don't wait, grab a couple hand fulls of them egg noodles. Throws "em in. Adjust flame to a low boil. Sit back an after bout 8 minutes....throw in the veggies. Crank up the flame. Another 5 or 8 minutes of boil'n, all that stuff should be cooked now. If'n it ain't....you know what to do.

Now, when I invented Billy Bob Vegetable Beef Stew Soup, I needed a reason to call it stew. Swanson come to the rescue. Toss ya one pack of the seasoning in there now. Stir it up an' taste it. There should be a hint of beef stew at this point. The second pack is to season it to your taste buds. I use both.

You can eat now. Be careful, it's boil'n hot. Man boy howdy, a pan of fresh out the oven cornbread sure would be good. Ha....you gonna be eat'n Beef stew soup for the next 4 or 5 days.

By the way. If'n you one them "don't eat beef" people....think pork. Or chicken. But with chicken, think Swanson chicken broth.

My god it was cold last night. 47 freak'n degs at 4:30 in the mornin. Beautiful sunshiny day this afternoon....85 degs.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Soup update.......Dead battery....new battery...6 hours at Walmart

I am in no condition this morn'n to be outside play'n football. Yesterday took it's toll.

Six hours for a trip to Walmart.....
I went outside, jump in the 'billy jeep", turn the key to crank up the motor an' all it do is "clickity click click". Nephew Joseph had just charge the battery a couple days ago. I put my 40 amp charger on the battery an' crank up that motor. Me an' Sadie Mae is on the way to Walmart. We gonna spend a hunnert dollar I betcha.

Cruis'n round the store, the buggy is get'n fuller an' I'm get'n weaker. I got to sit down....bout 4 or 5 times. By the time I reach the check out, I can barely stand, I'm weak, bout to pass out. I ask the nice girl if she could find me some help to unload the cart. She flatly said "no, we don't do that". I'm think'n thay probly do, but she was just lazy or uncaring an' told me no. When she placed a bag of taters on top of my loaf of bread, I knowed this was a bad day.
Anyhows, my in store experience yesterday sucked.

I make it to the "billy jeep" after another sit down break, when all a sudden my mind says..."what if'n the motor don''t crank up"? It didn't. Freak'n battery is slap dead. Nobody offers me a jump start while I'm stand'n there with tears run' down my cheeks...sweat, I meant to say sweat. What the hell am I gonna do? I don't got no tools. I don't got no jumper cables. Both "bubba boat" batteries are dead. I ain't got my phone to call for help.

Back in the store, I go look at batteries.....Yeee haa's, they got the right one. I ask for assistance in the service area. A young boy grabs a battery an' some jumper cable an' back to the park'n lot we go.....jump start the "billy jeep". Drive around to the service area an' a brand spank'n new battery is purchased an' the nice feller install it for me. No tests were done.

My entire shop'n spree at Walmart come to a total of right at $430.....meds included. My god, I ain't never spend that much at Walmart.

Back at El Rancho Abraham, I got to tote all these bags into the "da house". I ain't got no help. That takes 30 minutes with in between breaks. I cain't breath worth a crap an' my back pains is kill'n me. Two hours later, 80% if groceries is put up...ready to eat.

If'n I go outside in the next couple days, an' turn the key on the "billy jeep", an' it go clickity click click, I know I got me a problem other than a battery. An' you wonder why the old Billy Bob wants to just give up an' go to sleep. I'm [this] close to shut'n every thing down an' turn into a dad gum hermit.

Oh, speak'n of shut'n everthing down, that cursor problem.....it might be fixed. Google research tole me to delete a program an' reinstall it. Ha, I deleted the program, but then there weren't no place to download the same program for reinstallation. Only choice I had was to restore to before I deleted that program. Windows took over from there....an' reinstalled the program from my hard drive. I'm think'n, but not 100% sure, my cursor problems may be cured. An' I was get'n [this] close to get'n used to using a external mouse again. *dang, that was a weird sentence*

Ok, that's bout it for another excit'n day. I'll be back tomorrow with more excitement to keep ya entertained.
Laters....
*******************************************************************

Oh my god, that Billy Bob know some stuff bout build'n beef stew soup.

 

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

A/C on the way to the dumpster....Grrrrrrrr

Dang....some days I just want to throw in the towel an' give up. Turn the TV off, shut down the computer, turn out all the lights an' go to sleep.

I have things holding me back from do'n what I want an' need to do....spelled health issues. Yesterday I had me a bad case of sciatica. Sit'n in my chair, it were hotter 'an hell outside, the A/C start mak'n god awful noises. Sweat began to pour out my eyes as I was think'n...."Oh shit, another problem to keep me down".

Being I have many years work'n on A/Cs, I pretty much drawed me a picture of what is go'n on. But it's a blurry picture without climb'n up on the roof an' take a look see. I'm not able to climb up there on the roof.....but will if'n I have to. Now where the hell is all my test instruments I used all them years? Ha, they gone. I ain't got none no more. All I got is a cheap Walmart special voltage tester an' a set of eyes.

The only thing up there on the roof is the compressor an' fan motor...an' a few wires. The compressor is kicking out under load (running) an' then try'n to restart. With the noise I hear, I'm think'n thermo overload is bout to burn up.  But it could be a number of other causes....capacitor, start relay....a partially burn up wire. Damn, I need to climb up on the roof.

After the sun go down last night, the A/C run just fine. Cycle on an' off just like it supposed to do. This tells me that during the heat of the day, the compressor is draw'n too much current. It was bout 90 degs outside when this happen.

I could have wrote all that in bout 2 sentences, but I'm a artist....had to paint ya a picture. I like paint'n pictures ya know.

The yard is dry'n out pretty good so's I can crank up "Sally da house" an' head to the Texas state inspection place, fill up the gas tank an' go empty the black water tank. That's a 2 day affair the way I got it planned out. Go rent a park'n spot at the rv park up the street for one night to empty tanks. Then next day, drive to the inspection place an' on the way back to "El Rancho Abraham" pull into the gas station. Sounds simple but it ain't.

It's absolutely necessary that I go to Walmart today. My meds need refilled an' my freezer has nuttin in it to eat. I'm out of coffee creamer an' maybe one more day of coffee grinds. Last nights supper was a peanut butter jam sammich dunked in "on the edge" milk. Ha, later I took me a swig of that milk an' it come out the jug like gravy. Tasted kind of funny too.

Ok, I got to get ready for the Walmart trip. See ya laters.


Monday, April 27, 2015

Watermelons for sale....cheap

Ha, don't know where this come from, but I been sit'n here think'n bout it.....I used to sell watermelons.

I rekon my first business adventure, I must 'a been  bout 12 year old. My dad used to have a construction service business where people would come in an' want a contractor to build a porch or some steps. I was the business assistant. You know, the little guy what would sit in a empty office all day long answer'n the phone what would maybe ring once a day, or some lady would come in want'n a plumber for a clogged drain.....stuff like that. My job was to lead them in the right direction. It was really a very boring job an' I was right at the bottom of the pay scale.

Watermelons. Everybody likes watermelons. We are located on a busy intersection of town an' this would be a perfect location to sell watermelons. Me an' dad did some figger'n. A farmer down the road a piece, way the hell out in the country, would sell us watermelons for $.50 each. But we had to drive to the farm, pick 'em an' drive back to the business. Stop at a couple beer joints for refreshments for dad.
*In 1952, $.50 each for a wholesale watermelon was a high price*

Well, dad didn't know nuttin bout pick'n no dad gum watermelons, so the job was left up to his assistants....me an' one his drunk friends. Ha, while he sat in the pick up sip'n on a beer an' bark'n orders....."git that one". We load the truck with bout 50 watermelons. I see $$$$ signs in my eyes.

The next day I drags a chair out to the pile of watermelons. There's a home made sign...."Watermelons $1 each". In the next few days, half them watermelons are sold at "dicker" prices from $.60 each to $.75 each. We got us a money mak'n business here....gonna be rich in nuttin flat. Then, the watermelons began to rot. There was flys an' sting'n bees. Critters crawl'n on the ground. These watermelons have got to go.
Strike my first business adventure a failure. On with my life.

Other failures popped up in my life an' I just wrote 'em off as a failure. An' I went on with my life. Sold watermelons on 1 more occasion when I reached the age of bout 19 or 20. Think'n I had done learn all there is to learn bout sell'n stuff. I'm think'n this time sell'n watermelons, I was pay'n customers bout $.50 each to buy one my watermelons. You cain't sell a watermelon for $1 when that watermelon cost you $1.50 (purchase price plus overhead).

Was gonna make that trip to Walmart yesterday. The dad gum battery was slap dead in the "billy jeep". Now how comes that? Charged it up but now it's too late to go to Walmart. Stayed up way late last night do'n some think'n.....not good. Got up way late this morn'n....I ain't go'n to Walmart.

Think'n maybe them cats are gone. Sadie Mae has been inside all morn'n instead of sit'n under "da house" try'n to get a glimpse of one them kittens. By the way, I done some floor stomp'n last night right over the area they at. Maybe mama cat get all piss off an' say "let's move to a quieter community". My hear'n ain't good enough no more to hear them cats talk'n, so all I can do is hope they gone.

Ain't nuttin else go'n on that's needs talked bout. Ain't got no special plans made for the next few days. So I rekon I'm out of here for another day.  

 

Sunday, April 26, 2015

We have cat puppys....Oh my God, not again

Well shoot boy howdy....I ain't gonna write much today.

I ain't done worth a poop on fix'n that dad gum leak'n winder. I was hope'n it could be fixed without pull'n the whole thing slap out the side of "da house", but from what I find after close observation....I got to pull it slap out the side of "da house". An' I ain't gonna do that while I'm stuck in south Texas. It takes help, an' I ain't got no help.
So....here what I'm gonna do. I got me a roll of clear vinyl packing tape an' I'm gonna tape that slider winder water tite. Won't be no water leak when I get finished. Maybe one my boys in Georgia will have heart enough to give me a hand an' we can fix that sucker permanently.

Nephew Frank just drop by for visit...."Hey Uncle Bill, ya got kittens up under your motorhome". I knowed I should have plugged up them holes last year when I had kittens up under there. Now what the hell do I do? I'm not a cat killer, so I got to wait for them to come out on their own. Wonder how long that gonna take?

Dang I don't feel like go'n to Walmart today. But I need some stuff. Dang, I ain't go'n today.
Ha, that was a quick decision.

I sure am get'n peeved bout this dad gum laptop. Curser jump all over the screen when I want it over here. Dad gum screen saver freezes up. CD rom thingy don't work. Dang!!!! An' it's only 2 years old. As I recall, I didn't have me none these problems until the laptop was upgraded from Win 8.0 to 8.1. This sucks.
See what I'm talk'n bout....right now the curser is go'n crazy....see it....damn. Have to use a external mouse.

Ok.....I'm out of here...got things to do ya know. HAHAHAHA....things to do.

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Where is home when you're homeless?

Is that sunshine I see? Dang, it's been a while. I've been in the dark from big ol' black clouds so long, I got to put me some sunglasses on. This can be taken any way ya want to read it.

I've been retired from the University of Texas for 13 years. I've been full time RV'n for 13 years. I live on the streets, I'm homeless. I know a few other RV'ers that are homeless. Ain't got nuttin but a old RV to live in an' run the roads in search for some excit'n picture perfect exotic spot to camp for a few days. Sounds pretty good don't it? Travel'n all over the country see'n places ya ain't never see before. Do'n stuff ya ain't never did before. Meet'n up with other "homeless" people an' trad'n stories around a blaz'n campfire. Climb'n mountains. Walk'n an' hike'n trails. Swim'n in the Colorado River. Catch'n fish in the Sea of Cortez. Sight see'n the old ghost towns of the west. Man, that must be the life.

Well, yeah it is....for a while. Speak'n for myself here. At some point, it's gonna get old. It's gonna get hard. An' not so excit'n no more. That's when it's time to go home....sit back an' remissness for a bit. Take a break. But where the hell is home? You're homeless. People along the way ask me where I'm from. I could tell 'em bout 18 different states, but I always say Texas,....'cause I like Texas so much. But even in Texas, I ain't got no wheres to call home. I'm freak'n homeless. I need some beer, wine, drugs, a sammich, some shoes an' a dry place to lay down at night. Ha, beer, wine an' drugs added for spice...I don't do none of 'em.

Now don't get me wrong an' think I don't like this lifestyle, 'cause I do like it. In fack, I love it. I like it so much I would never ever live in a house again. Ya see, when ya live in a house, ya cain't just pack up over night an' move somewheres else. Sucker ain't got no wheels. I love "Sally da house", but she is a bit larger than I need now days. I got her pretty much "comfortized", but I just need a place to park her for a while. Full hook ups an' a place to park a bulldozer. Sounds simple don't it?

Well, it ain't. There are no places to park a big ol' motorhome, a Jeep an' a bulldozer.....an' call it home. God I want me a bulldozer. With the economy an the greedy land grabbers, even a tiny " lot" cain't be purchased for less than $25,000 big ones. An' then it has freak'n restrictions....no RV's.

Back in 2002 or 03, I went to visit my son Jesse. I pull into the yard up under a couple nice shade trees an' set up camp. His lot was at the entrance to a housing development. In nuttin flat, here come the city officials...."you cain't park that RV in the yard". Even write me a eviction notice...with a fine if'n I wasn't down the road in 10 days. On the lot next door sit's this old abandoned trailer house. I say something bout that an' am told...."RV's are not allowed in city limits". What the hell??? My trailer house has a motor, what's the difference?

Same thing happen in Tallapoosa, Ga. I fount this nice little lot where there once sat a trailer house. Water , electric an' sewer right there. The price was right. I contacted the city...."RV's not allowed in city limits".

But anyhows, I been look'n. Ain't no better off today than I was a few years back. I suppose I'll remain homeless till the day I die. There's other options, but I ain't found what I'm look'n for yet. Not anything I could call "home" anyhows.

I got a water leak. On the passenger side front winder. It needs fixed before my floor rots. Ya see, on RV's where the winder glass slides back an' forth, there are "weep" holes in the bottom track. If the weep holes are plug up, you got a leak to the inside. In the track that the winder glass slides in is this insert thingy made of fake rubber an' some kind of hair look'n stuff....kind of like velcro. From Google search, there should be cutouts at each weep hole to direct water to the outside. I take a look see, an' that insert looks like it's moved....not in the right position. That's my project for today.....fix that sucker.  

Friday, April 24, 2015

Don't never jump off'n no roof

I was sit'n here an' got to think'n.......why?

Boy howdy, I been have me plenty them "whys" for all my life...."why the hell did you do that"? "why is the cat all puffed up"? "why did you....why did you....why did you"? Well shoot, there's only one simple answer to that, "that's just the way I do things". I still do things like that an' I still get asked "why?".

I would rekon that ya gotta live on a farm to learn how to do things the easy way. Like how to get off of a roof. What easier way is there other than to jump.....sheesh!!!...think bout it. Now days though, you won't even catch me on no dad gum roof. Been bout 2 years since I been on the roof of "Sally da house". Skeers shit out me when I'm up there.
Back to jump'n off'n a roof....us boys was play'n some silly game of some kind on the farm what involved climb'n all over the roofs of the barn, smoke house an' garage. Now jump'n out the hay loft, there weren't nuttin to that. Just land in the pile of hay lay'n on the ground. But we was on the smoke house, there weren't no hay, an' "Moms" was holler'n from across the yard...."you boys git off that roof before I beat yer ass". When Moms spoke, we listened. Since I was the smallest of the boys, an' they had scampered down the ladder....an' then took the ladder with 'em, I was stranded....with Moms headed this way with a big ol' switch in her hands. She's gonna beat my ass. So's I jump. Right into a pile of busted up used lumber....big ol' dry rot splinters an' nails. I land my right foot dead center one them nails....go right through my foot. I'm scream'n bloody murder an' Moms is crank'n up the old car for a trip to the doctor in town. This was my first experience with the healing powers of alcohol an' iodine on a open wound. Ha, I ain't never go on that roof no more.

But that weren't the last time I jump off a roof. An' that weren't the last time I got myself hurt. I jump off'n a neighbors garage an' could'a swear I done break both feet. Had to crawl on hands an' knees back to the house. Big ol' tears in my eyes. Didn't get on "that" roof again neither. Lesson learned...."don't never jump off'n a roof". Ha, I always tell everbody "that's why God invented ladders".

Trip to Georgia goes downhill a little more each day. I'm at a point that it wouldn't take much arm twist'n to crank up "Sally da house" an' head to the desert southwest. Well, maybe I'm jump'n the gun here a bit. Things could get better ya know.

Holy cows, I got me a whole page of Walmart stuff to go buy up. Eat'n stuff. But it won't be today. Ya see, when ya only sleep bout 5 hours a night, ya don't feel like do'n nuttin when ya get up. Today is one them days an' I got a ton of stuff what needs done. Just little stuff. The big stuff has got to wait till the yard drys up. An' there's more rain predicted. Ha, it rained again last night.  

Ok, I got me some think'n to do an' not much time left to do it. Today is already half gone.....damn!!!

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Studebakers were cool in their day

Have ya ever walked up to a wall an' couldn't go no further? Ain't got no ladder to climb over the wall?? Ain't got no shovel to dig under the wall??? Ain't got no dynamite to blow that wall to smithereens??? Dang, this sucks.
"Ha Billy Bob, ya could go out an' buy ya a bulldozer".

Ha, did I ever tell ya bout that time....me a Gerry was on our way to San Bernardino, Ca. We was in Gerry's old 1950 Studebaker what we had hop'ed up a bit. For exhaust, we had installed a dual pipe system, made out of 2 inch stainless steel flex pipe with 2 modified glass pack mufflers. Sounded wonderful.

We was cruis'n along at bout 80 mile a hour an' we come up on some road construction. There's a hunnert construction cones in the road. "Hey Gerry, run over one them cones". Gerry swerve to the right an'....KERBLOOOWY, we hit one them cones. Then we hear this god awlful sound come from under the car. Stainless steel flex pipe is strung out 25 feet behind us. Now how the hell did that happen, it was just a cone. Upon close inspection of the cone, that sucker has a half of a inch of heavy plate steel in the bottom.

Not only does stainless steel hold heat for a while, but it's also very sharp on the edges. I reaches down to pick up the end of that pipe....an' I sizzle both my hands. Blisters come up later. After it cools enough to get a good hand hold, Gerry grabs holt that pipe an' give it a good tug to pull it loose from the muffler. It don't tug. It don't pull loose from the muffler. Gerry gets a big ol' gash in his hand from the sharp edges. The only tools we got a a big ol' hammer an' a pair of pliers. We beat hell out of that strung out pipe under the car try'n to break it loose. I swear, we was on the side the road for a hour, sweat'n up a storm an' in severe pain, get'n that pipe loose. Moral of story....Never "intentionally" run over a road construction cone. Sheesh, me an' Gerry hurted for a week.

That same Studebaker....we was cruis'n some counrty roads outside San Bernardino. Just mind'n our own business an' hav'n a good ol' time. Now Gerry's Studebaker was unique. You could let off the gas, turn the key off an' coast a few hunnert feet. Then when ya turn the key back on, there's a loud ass explosion of unburned gas. KAAABOOOOM....sound something like a 10 gauge shotgun...or something like that.

There's a boy ride'n his bicycle down a hill. He probly hav'n him a good ol' time too. Gerry reach down an' turn the key off....Ha, I know what Gerry gonna do. We right beside that boy when Gerry turn the key back on. KAAABOOOOM!!!! That poor boy go down in a ditch scream'n bloody murder. By "down in a ditch" I mean....he crash big time. I bet ya a dollar he pee his pants too. Not be'n a teenager no more, I don't do that kind of stuff no more. Shit, somebody could git hurt. In case you're wonder'n, no, the boy did not get hurt....but you talk bout pissed, that boy was some kind of pissed. Been me, I would'a been run'n down the road after that Studebaker chunk'n big ol' rocks.

Nuttin else to write bout today but old memories. So I'm gonna leave ya now. Laters!!!





 

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Sadie Mae

Ah ha, request made in the comment section. Let's see what we can do bout that.

As you all know (y'all), the old Billy Bob ain't accustomed to writ'n no short blog posts. Well, I did yesterday an' it paid off with more comments than I get in a week. I was gonna write a funny post bout that today, but think I'll just let it go.

Let's talk bout Sadie Mae an' how I acquired her. Much led up to go'n to the "rescue" place an' pick'n up a dog, so let's git that out the way first.

Since 1995, I've had terrible luck with dogs. When I lived on the sailboat, there was Jo Jo. Then there was Reebok. Then there was Boudreaux. An' of course you remember Lug Nut, Sadie Mae's constant companion.


Well wait a minute, I could sit here all day long an' write bout my dogs, but shoot, I done wrote bout 'em before. 
Just click here an' see where Sadie Mae come from. My dog Sadie Mae.

You may notice, I don't have a lot to say bout Sadie Mae in my posts. There good reason for that....she don't do nuttin all day long. She just lays there or sit's under my feet. Now there was one time I was gonna take Sadie Mae to the dog pound place an' tie her ass to the door handle. But I got over that. She is NOT a "man's" dog. Shoot, if'n some big ol' "biker babe" was to knock me to the ground an' try to molest me, Sadie Mae wouldn't say a word.

Me an' Sadie Mae has been together for right at 10 years now. March of 2005. That makes her either 11 or 12 years old.....therebouts. We've traveled many many miles together an' she's done piss me off many many times tangle'n her rope around the tires on "da house", telephone poles. fence posts or anything else lay'n round. But she's always been there to talk to me an' comfort me in times of need. She's a good dog, but worthless as hell if'n ya wanna go outside play any kinds of dog games. Fetch, chase an' stuff like that. At her age an' at my age, that stuff don't matter no more....I love my Sadie Mae.

Retirement party? Gotta make this short even though it weren't. Much research, bout 2 months, went into the day I was to retire. I was to wear a rental tux an' a derby top hat that last day on the job. I was to be picked up by a stretch limousine at 4pm that afternoon an' delivered to the Island Cafe. I was to be walked to that limousine by two scantly clad "chick a babies" from Hooters in Corpus Christi. Shoot, I were all excitis.

Then bad news hit me. The "pay up front" limo rental place cancelled my pick up 'cause I ain't paid nuttin up front. My tux did not come anywhere close to fit'n, an' had to be returned. The scantly clad "chick a babies" were no longer available. I was slap out of pocket change....broke. But not all was lost. I got free coffee at the Island Cafe.   

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Monday, April 20, 2015

Weber breakdown....where my propane?

It is soooo hard to have a good day when all around you you see nothing but bad. I read the news every morn'n ya know, an' when I finish, I'm soooo damn piss off I cain't see straight.
Defacing of statues of prominent figures condoned by college officials.
Unions sue'n Walmart to rehire people that walked off their jobs.
White children rejected from school field trips.
Grrrrrrrr....another cup of coffee!!!

Ok, I'm back.

Dang, I figgered yesterdays post bout "hot" cars would draw some attention. Wording again....never say "sissy".

I rekon there ain't no sense tell'n ya bout the 1974 AMC Javelin I had is there?

Look exactly like this one....less the spoiler. This is the one the cop roll down his winder at a red light an' tell me to "git on it".
Man, can you imagine cruis'n round town in this????

I ain't no better off today than I was yesterday. But I did work on my Weber grill yesterday. Ya see, when Frank mowed my lawn, he moved the grill an' the hold down thingys for the base come loose. Pop slap out an' lose one of 'em. It was found an' I did me some modification. Drill them out an' put bolts through 'em. They won't be com'n out no more.

Then I decided I would burn me a couple hot dogs. I turn the burner on an' push the lighter thingy. It don't fire up. I take my trusty Bic lighter an' put the flame to the burner. I ain't got no gas. So's I start tak'n stuff apart. The burner orifice is clear. I pull the hose off'n the regulator, push the little seal thingy gizmo an' I ain't got no gas.  I got a full bottle of propane..."what the hell"? I pull the hose off'n the bottle....push the seal thingy gizmo on the bottle. WOW boy howdy, do I got me some gas or what....blow my little cigar right out my lips. So, the hose connection at the tank ain't push'n that seal thingy. Finally, after 15 minutes scratch'n head, I get me some gas. Fire up the burner an' I says...."the flame is too low". But it weren't.

The grate ain't been cleaned in months, so I turn it on high an' close the lid. Hmmmmm....only 500 degs. I brush the grate. Then I put it on low to check temp. Hmmmm.....375 degs. after a hour. That's too freak'n hot for chicken. But anyhows, it works again.

Rain is forecast for the rest of the week. Rather it rains is another story. "Sally da house" can not be moved until the ground is solid again. So that means, there will be no Texas state safety inspection again this week. Damn I hope she passes.

Well, today is Monday, Robert is on his way to Dallas. That's 350 or so miles from his daddy in Sinton. Bet ya a dollar he will come to visit if'n he gets some time off. In the mean time, I will chug along get'n "da house" ready for the trip to Georgia. The chug'n along depends on how much rain we get.

Ain't got nuttin excit'n to write bout so....."See ya laters".





Sunday, April 19, 2015

Sissy cars versus rowdy cars

Well shoot, yesterdays post must have been worded wrong or something.

But anyhows.....

It rained like hell again yesterday. The night before we had tornado warnings.....with high winds. Then flash flood warnings. Ditches run'n over in the street. Then it rained some more. My God, the yard is slap full of water again.

Ok, speak'n of ditches full of water. Over in Port Aransas, think'n maybe bout 1992 or therebouts, we had some really bad rain storms on the island. Bout a half mile from the Gulf of Mexico, the main drag through town got flooded. Kids ride'n jet skis down the street. The ditches was slap full of water....and fish. Up where the new What A Bugger is located, up to where the new post office is located, fish was jump'n in the roadside ditches. Tell me it don't rain fish. If'n I recall, the local newspaper had a front page write up bout it....with photos.

Ha,  made it up all the ways till 6pm yesterday before I take me a pain reliever. Both feet were pretty much unswolled most of the day...until I sit in "that chair" for a couple hours watch'n a golf game. Dang, who are all these new kids play'n professional golf an' beat'n hell out the ones I know? I mean like...."what the hell"???

I don't know why I'm get'n on the subject, but way back in the late 50's, there was two kinds of boys in Ridgecrest, Ca.. There was us rowdy boys an' then there was the sissy boys. Us rowdy boys would drive homebrew cars an' them sissy boys would drive "off the showroom floor" sissy cars that "mommy an' daddy" bought 'em. The sissy boys, with their sissy cars, would hang out at the drive in up the street. Rev'n up their little 6 cylinder engines, hoods open, show'n off all the chrome stuff under there. Two barrel carburetors an' stuff like that. While down the street at the rowdy drive in, us rowdy boys were rev'n up our "modified" V-8 engines with 4 barrel carburetors, in some cases two 4 barrels, custom made twin exhaust systems with "cut outs", an' loud ass "cherry bomb' mufflers.

I had fount me this old 1946 Plymouth business coupe with a little 6 cylinder motor what only had bout a hunnert horsepower on a good day. It was a ugly dark green an' not a eye catcher color for the cute little "chick a babys". It remained that ugly dark green color up till the day it died. When ya crank up the engine, it sound like a "on it's last leg" Kenmore warsh'n machine. It's got to go.
Ha, the only pic of it I got. That's it sit'n in the background behind uncles pick up.

A 1949 or '50 Ford flat head V-8....not the drink, engine out of a drag rac'n car was located...for $25 cash money. Me an' Gerry install that engine in that old ugly dark green Plymouth.....after a rebuild an' much modification to make it fit. A floor shifter was needed.....macho thing ya know. At that time, a Hurst floor shifter was way out of my $$$$ pocket change range. Two shifter rods are installed through the floorboard an' two hands are required to shift gears. Back then, only sissy cars had automatic transmissions. After much shift'n practice, I could shift as fast as a Hurst an' never miss a gear in a speed shift.

Six months later, I had me one hot, faster an' hell, 1946 Plymouth business coupe. Me an' Gerry takes it up the street to the sissy drive in an' cruise round the park'n lot....rev'n the motor ya know. An' spin'n tires a couple times. A crowd gathers, want'n a look under the hood. A challenge was made..."ya wanna race that thing"? Oh crap, it was made by the owner of the shiny black '57 Chevy Bel Aire with 3 on the floor. A sissy car. Although it was bout the fastest an' hottest car in town, I accepted the challenge. Out of county an' to the top of Trona hill we go.

We line up on the start line, placed there from many 1/4 mile drag races in the past. My "cut outs" are opened up for the added horsepower. The distributor timing is increased a few degrees. Denatured alcohol is added to the gas tank. Engines are rev'ed up, the flag drops an' we on our way....I jump to the lead with my great big ol' Chrysler Imperial back tires. While that sissy Chevy sits there at the start line spin'n his sissy factory spec. tires. I'm in the lead for the next few hunnert feet...shift'n gears an' I miss one. Then here come that dad gum '57 Chevy catch'n up to me. He passes me....by a car length. I do me a two hand shift into high gear an' that's when the horsepower kick in. I can feel it. We cross the finish line, me a half car in the lead....I win. Ha, teach that boy to buy a sissy car.

I raced that '57 Chevy a couple times after that race. Never see nuttin but his tail pipes. Come to find out, his daddy took it to a race car mechanic an' did some "stuff" to it. An' that when some guy buys a brand span'n new 1960 Chevy El Camino with a big block 409.....a power horse of a motor. Cheater slicks...the whole works. Sissy car an' rowdy car rac'n days are over.

Well shoot, what I been do'n? It's late....publish this thing. Laters.       




Saturday, April 18, 2015

Georgia on my mind

I ain't the only one ya know. There's people all over the country that have "last dreams", but they don't want to talk bout 'em. The subject is quickly changed an' they go bout their lives never experiencing what they dreamed about for years. They've put it on the back burner an' turn the flame slap off.....give up on their dreeams.

There was a time when I had me a whole bunch of "dreams". Call it a bucket list if'n ya want to. As I said yesterday, I emptyed my bucket....I don't have no more dreams. Except'n for one. Now I ain't say'n I'm done with want'n to do stuff an' have me a little excitement in my life, but I ain't gonna put 'em in no bucket. If'n something comes up, I'll just do my best to do it today. Today, there ain't nuttin.

An' that leads me into today's post....the trip to Georgia. I ain't a bit excitis bout this trip. In fact, I'm hav'n me some second thoughts bout it. It's not a fun filled vacation I'm go'n on, it's a trip to attempt to "fix" stuff. I'm gonna have me a whole bunch of doctor appointments. I have somebody in Georgia that will help me get that done. Where here in south Texas, I have nobody.

Now, bout that 1000 miles to Georgia. I been do'n me some research of places to spend the nights....or a few days if'n the urge hits me. This trip usually takes me 4 or 5 days an' at the rate of 200 or 250 mile a day,  I don't get to see anything to get all excitis bout. I don't get to lay back an' relax an' look at critters run'n round my camp site...rest areas an' truck stops don't have critters. It's a boring trip from south Texas to Georgia. Especially when you travel interstate.

Oh, guess what the old Billy Bob done yesterday. Remember them tools an' stuff lay'n on the floor? I pick them suckers up an' placed 'em in their proper places....to the garage an' tool shed under "da house" (compartments). Now I have room to do the "Texas Two Step". Dang, it's been a long time since I done me some danc'n. 

Friday, April 17, 2015

Last dream....my RV shelter

Due to circumstances beyond my control.....

What do I write about today? There's not much left ya know. I could sit here an' bitch an' moan bout all my aches an' pains, but that gets old. I could sit here an' tell ya bout some fabulous trip I took some years back, but that's in the past.....water under the bridge ya know. I could tell ya a childhood story, but I'm bout out of material to write about. I'm think'n my old life of adventure an' excitement is bout to come to a screech'n halt.

I sit over there in "that chair" an' I do me some think'n every night. Where do I want to go? What do I want to  do? Is that "last dream" possible?

So today, I'm gonna talk bout that last dream. It's the only dream I got left an' it's a biggie. Much physical labor is involved. With the help of a big ol' bulldozer ya know.

I've sit over there an' try my darndest to create a new dream, an' I end up with nuttin. I've done most everthing I ever wanted to do as a youngster. I've climbed that tall mountain. I've dog paddled across that raging stream. I've picked cactus thorns out my flesh. I've swimmed two oceans....I've been to different countries. I've walked a million miles. Holy crap, what more could a person dream about?

When my last dream came to mind, it was back in 2005....or therebouts. I little piece of property to call "home". A shelter to park "Sally da house" in. A stream fed pond full on fish an' wild critters...ducks an' birds an' stuff. An' a pet chicken or two.

I've put this dream on hold for too many years. Even gave up on it one time, an' that left me with NO dream to dream about. But it never leaves my mind. I sit for hours think'n bout "home". I research on the internet, look'n for that perfect piece of property. There is no perfect piece of property. I've researched ownership in RV parks. Gave that idea up real quick like when I find out a bulldozer ain't considered a second car. When I do find a piece of property that would be [this] close to perfect, there are restrictions, priced well beyond what I'm will'n to  pay or a hunnert miles from the closest Walmart. I continue to search.

The construction of the shelter ain't all that hard.....think pole barn with bout a dozen big ol' poles buried bout 4 foot in the ground.



"Sally da house" would be the scaffold for the remainder construction....roof, walls, winders...that kind of stuff. With the assistance of a electric winch to hoist ground build finished walls in place. An' a bulldozer to grade a level construction site. Am I too freak'n old? Probly so, but this is my "last dream".

I put my shoes on yesterday. Ouch, that hurts. Tools are still lay'n on the floor.

Well, here we go again....todays post did not update.....Grrrrrr...
Let's try Google Chrome......

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Oh no, chicken an' tater soup

Ok, here's what I'm think'n.....break time. Don't matter what I do, I ain't go'n forward no matter how hard I try. Ever morn'n I wake up....thank God, I says...."well what we gonna do today"? An' I come up with bout a dozen little jobs that's been on the back burner for a while. Let's take for instance....them tools lay'n on the floor. I step over 'em bout 4 or 8 times a day. I mean like, it would only take 5 minutes an' there wouldn't be no tools lay'n on the floor to step over. An' then I come up with all kinds of excuses. *If I put my shoes (sandals) on, my feet is gonna hurt*. I been us'n that excuse for a couple weeks now with my swoled up feet. *Ya don't want to be do'n too much bend'n over to pick up stuff off'n the floor*. I might get all dizzy an' fall down*. *Ya gotta be careful ya don't track mud an' grass clip'n into "da house" an' then have to sweep the floors an' mop 'em*. Maybe better wait till the rains quit. See what I'm talk'n bout, all ligament excuses.

I got to think'n some more bout chickens. I like chicken ya know an' cook 'em up quite often. But in  the last few years, my taste buds went south. Everthing tastes like chicken. A week ago, nephew Joseph bringed me some stuff he grilled up. I looks at it an' says....Ummmm....chicken. I eat some of it an' got to think'n....is this chicken? Later nephew Joseph asks me "how did you like the pork chops"? If everthing is gonna tase like chicken, I ain't gonna buy no more beef or pork....just chicken. Hmmmmm....think'n a big ol' chickburger here.    

Speak'n of chicken burgers, it was back in bout 1954 or 55 in Palmdale, Ca.. Down on the corner was this little grocery store. Out front there was a box with a sign on it..."baby chicks, .25 cents apiece" an' there was only two left in the box. I sweeped the floor in that little grocery store an' took them two chicken puppys home with me. My little cat puppy, maybe 3 months old, didn't know what to think when I turn them chickens loose in the house. I now have a cat, two chickens an' the neighbors dog, what spend most his time sleep'n on the back porch.

In no time flat, the cat an' them baby chickens are best of buddys.....chase each other all over the little two room cottage. Have ya ever see a cat run'n round the room with a baby chicken in his mouth? Or have ya ever see two chickens attack, rough an' tumble, a cat when he is sleep'n. Play'n silly pet games.

Time passed by an' the cat is grow'n up an' them chicken puppys are almost full fledged chickens. Got all their feathers an' fly'n all over the place. By the way, the cat an' them chickens learn to poop on newspaper placed on the floor. No more step'n in chicken poop on the way to the bathroom.

One day, one them chickens escapes from the house. Out in the yard scratch'n an' eat'n up bugs an' stuff.The neighbor dog makes a lunge at that chicken, an'....no more escaped chicken. He kill my dad gum chicken an' hauls ass up the street with my dead pet chicken in his mouth. Bastard dog!!!!

In the mean time, my dad get's throwed in jail an' shipped off to Los Angeles for bout 10 days. Something to do with "drunk an' disorderly". In jail he meets up with some other drunk an' brings him home for a week. I lose my bed to a drunk an' while I'm at school, that drunk put on a pot of fresh chicken an' tater soup. There's something bout chickens that most people like....the taste  I ain't got no pet chicken no more. My dad an' that drunk done eat it up. He also stole my radio an' hocked it at the little grocery for some beer an' a bottle of cheap wine. Dang I was glad when that guy went back to jail. I got my radio back, but I had to work off $3 before the grocer would turn it loose.

That was my last pet chicken.

On the down side, I been hurt'n like hell. This hip is kill'n me. An' then there's the feet. Swell'n is all down when I get out of bed of the morn'n, but a few hours later, they swelled up again. They hurt. My depression ain't no better, but I ain't made it to Walmart to buy up the St John's Wort yet. My mind has thoughts I wouldn't wish on my worstest enemy. Actually, I ain't got no worst enemies. I may get a little pissed, but they ain't enemies.
That's where I stand today....maybe tomorrow will be better.


Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Where's my chicken????

Somes times when ya start to write a story, ya have to delete it an' start over with another story. That's what I been do'n this morn'n while I'm wait'n for my coffee to kick in.

I got a few lines wrote bout the gooseberry patch an' the cow lick. Deleted that sucker. Wrote a few lines bout my first BB gun when I was 6 or 7 years old. Deleted that one too. Then I got to think'n bout chickens. I like chickens ya know, but what's so special bout a dad gum chicken? If ya live on a farm, a chicken is something to eat come Sunday afternoon. They make eggs....nuttin special bout that.

Well yeah there is something special bout a chicken. They make wonderful pets. Ya see, I had growed up big enough to carry a basket out to the chicken house an' collect eggs. I was made official "chicken egg collector". Out in the hen house was this one chicken what would foller me all over the hen house while I was fill'n that basket. That chicken talk'n to me in "chicken talk" all the while. I liked that chicken.

It weren't long an' that chicken foller me all around the yard. Down to the creek, out in the corn fields, the tater patch, the out house, pump'n water from the well....any where I go, that chicken was right there....talk'n chicken talk at me. We was bestest of friends.

We had a little porch on the back the house. Any time I go in the house, that chicken perched on that porch until I come back outside. Then we have us a long conversation...."cluck cluck cluck". When it was time for me to go to bed, that chicken would roost on the back porch wait'n for morn'n an' another adventurous day.

Well, as time went along, that chicken is by my side an' talk'n to me. One Sunday morn'n my chicken ain't wait'n for me on the back porch. She's gone, no where to be found. An' I looked everwheres for that dad gum chicken.  Where's my chicken?

Back in them days, the preacher man would make house calls, visit from time to time. Usually on a Sunday afternoon just bout dinner time. "Moms" would always make a special dinner when that preacher man come to visit. Us kids are all seated at the kitchen table filled with that "special dinner" from end to end. In the middle of the table is this great big ol' platter stacked high with pan fried chicken. An' I just love pan fried chicken. But not this day, I ain't eat'n no chicken. That could be MY chicken on that platter. To this day, I would bet ya a dollar it was. I was heart broke for a couple weeks until I bringed a turtle from the creek back to the house. Turtles make good pets too ya know.

Yesterday I didn't get a damn thing done like I was plan'n on do'n. With all the rain we had an' all the little ponds all over the yard, I figgered  I ain't go'n outside. I'm just gonna lay back here in my chair an' look out the winders. Maybe flip a few channels....take me a nap. Google some stuff.

My computer don't work right after it was upgraded to Windows 8.1. The touch pad goes haywire any time it wants to. The only way to fix it is to put the laptop to sleep an' wake it back up. That works for a while. Well, I checked for updates. My God, 199 megs of updates. that took a good hour to do. Nope, it didn't fix the touchpad. Then, I pop a CD in the CD rom thingy. What the hell, it don't work neither. Last time I used the CD was before the upgrade to Win 8.1. I don't want to buy a new computer. An' I don't want to pay a arm an' a leg to get this one fixed. 

  

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Rain rain.....go away

Ok, you think it rained yesterday morn'n? Well let me tell ya bout "RAIN".

It was right at 5:30am when I hear some rain drops on the roof. These ain't no little rain drops neither....we talk'n "RAIN" drops...bout a pound each. The wind was blow'n up a storm. My awning is strain'n to stay hooked up to "da house". Think'n somewheres bout 40 mile a hour or so. Ain't no way I'm ever gonna go back to sleep in this kind of a rain storm. Heads off towards the coffee pot. What the hell, water on the floor. Maybe close to a gallon or so. The roof vent in the kitchen is drip'n water.

Now, if'n ya happen to own a RV, you're aware that high winds will vibrate a roof vent an' the little crank thingy will loosen up. An' when the crank thingy loosen up, the vent will no longer seal an' you gonna have a leak. Simple as that. I mops up the water while my coffee is brew'n. I fix's up a cup an' go sit down an' watch the storm through the windshield an' the open door. No, I don't lock my door at night, I ain't no sissy. I leave it open...screen shut.

After bout 45 minutes, maybe a hour, the rain slows down. That's when the lightning starts up. I'm talk'n close lightning....one hit right out there in the yard.....scares hell out the old Billy Bob an' Sadie Mae is in my lap lickity split. Ha, she don't like loud BOOOOMS, not narry a bit. By 7:30, everthing is back to a normal spring shower an' life goes on. It's 62 degs an' my feet are cold.

I'm think'n we gonna hang "Billy Bob" up for a while. With all the aches an' pains, depression an' all the other stuff go'n on in my life, my mind refuses to participate in happy an' humorous subjects. My blog will continue as is, cry'n an' whin'n....grumpy an' grouchy. I'll just sit on my ass "do'n nuttin", look'n for something to gripe about. 

This happen to me one time before when I lived on the sailboat. People in the harbor see me walk'n down the dock to my boat an' don't see me again until the next morn'n walk'n down the dock to go to work. Week ends, nobody see me at all. I was a freak'n boat hermit. Don't talk to nobody. Don't sit in the cockpit view'n outstanding sunsets. Don't do nuttin. I got over that one, an' hope I get over this one really soon. This sucks ya know.




Monday, April 13, 2015

Internet was down.....but I lived through it

Yesterday, there was just no way I could get on the internet. The little green light on my Verizon air card come on, but I ain't got no connection. Think'n somebody is work'n on the tower or something like that.  Been like this for bout 4 days....poor connection.

All the family members that showed up for the funeral, are all pack'n up an' get'n ready to head back home. Even though they are family for my first marriage, they are family. Had a wonderful visit with "yo mama" an' HIL Harry yesterday afternoon. We talked for a couple hours. All they keep say'n is "we miss you, hurry up an' get to Georgia".

There was three old grouchy people sit'n in a room. All they do is sit there stare'n at each other, look'n for something to "grouch" about. No "hello how ya do'n". No "good to see ya again". Just sit'n there not say'n a word....wait'n for a chance to pounce on each other. Don't ya just love old age???

I was sit'n here look'n over the "Georgia trip" to do list. Shoot, I ain't got a whole lot left to do. Then I took my trusty pencil an' added a couple or three things to the list. At this rate, I'll never complete the list. Three items on the list will take no less than 3 or 4 days to get checked off, an' the 3 or 4 days depends on how I feel. Today I doubt I'll check anything off. If ya ever had you a case of hip pain, ya know what I'm talk'n bout.

Man boy howdy, you talk bout some rain. And some high winds. That was last night. Over half my wonderful boring TV stations don't work no more, I says "Now what the hell am I gonna do"? I eased "that chair" back into a recline position.....an' I took me a nap. Right bout 2:30am I headed off to bed. Toss an' turn look'n for a position where I don't hurt so bad. Walla, I fount one....waked up at 10am this morn'n. Now that what I'm talk'n bout a good nights sleep. Way too much but I needed it. Poor Sadie Mae was skeered half to death with all the lightning an' thunder. BOOOOM...CRASH....right across the street.




Saturday, April 11, 2015

It's not what I thought it was.....

Ok, for anybody that's been follow'n my progress on the "tear the dashboard apart" project....I got some good news. That park neutral safety solenoid I was so concerned with burn'n slap up, well, it ain't a park neutral safety solenoid. It controls a doo dad in the steering wheel by a little cable that locks the shifter in park until you press the brake. It's called a BTSI solenoid....don't even ask. It IS part of the park neutral safety though. Once the transmission is placed in gear, out of the park position, the BTSI sol. is de-energized. That's what Mr Google, the research guy,  tole me anyhows. So, I will no longer stress myself with thoughts of smoke an' fire under the dash. Oh yeah, it's controlled by the park neutral safety switch mounted on the transmission. Confused yet? Boy howdy I sure am. But, confused or not, I'm relieved.

So now I can get my mind back on the trip to Georgia. New information from my son Robert may change my thoughts. He has a job to go on to in Dallas Texas for a  month. And after that job is finished, there's another 3 weeks of work in Dallas he will attend to. We talk'n two months Robert will be in Texas an' not in Georgia.

Robert is the only "take care of daddy" kid I have in Georgia an' with him in Dallas all that time...well I think you see what I'm talk'n bout....nobody to tend to the needs of daddy. An' "daddy" is in need. I'll do me some think'n on this subject. I just got to keep my cool, maybe things will work out. Dang, if'n only all my Georgia kids were like Robert. Shoot, with 7 kids, I would be sit'n on easy street.

I was gonna write a story this morn'n, but when you're sort'n through trash at the city dump look'n for something to eat, story writ'n will have to wait. That's called "down in the dumps" if'n you ain't figger it out. I hate liv'n with this shit worse than you hate read'n bout it. What's the old say'n????....things can only get better. Ok....when?

Ok, I'm out of here. Maybe tomorrow will bring some sunshine an' everbody will have a smile on their face.



Friday, April 10, 2015

I put stuff back together.......done.

This is gotta be short 'cause I got income tax to deal with. An' I hate deal'n with the IRS in any shape or form. Well wait a minute....they send me a check, I'm gonna deal with that check right now.

Did you know....the old Billy Bob has to pay tax every year. Even thought he is retired, ain't got no job an' lives on the streets....homeless. That just ain't right when almost half the working population don't pay no taxes at all. An' they make way, way, WAY more than the old Billy Bob makes. I probly make $13 over poverty level, so our wonderful IRS requires me to file an' pay my fair share to suppore the 47% that don't pay. That Grrrrrrr's me.

Ok, yesterdays repairs have been completed. The deal with the park neutral safety solenoid kick'n in an' out....I ended up go'n to the auto parts place an' purchase me a new ignition switch. Install the sucker. Now the solenoid stay kicked in an' it gets hot. Question is....is it supposed to stay kicked in an' get hot? Yup, I Google that question.....found no information. I don't think it's supposed to stay kicked in, but what the hell do I know? So....I gonna leave it as is an' hope that solenoid don't burn up.

Oh crap....hold on, tax thingy is bout to time out....be back in a minute.

More than a minute later....taxes are filed an' I git'n billions of $$$$ back. Well maybe not that much, but enough for a round of golf an' a shop'n trip to Walmart.

The dashboard has been put back together, steering column bolted in place.....damn, what a bitch job that was. The driver seat is back in place. One more test of all components.....Yeeee Haaa, they all work. Engine even start right up. I honks the horn....beep beep.

So now I'm right back to the same place I was a couple days ago....check'n stuff off'n the "Georgia trip to do" list. It's get'n short, but you know the old Billy Bob, he gonna add to it. On top of that list, I got housework to do again....an' a ton of tools lay'n on the floor that need to be returned to the garage compartments.

I fell slap asleep in "that chair" again last night watch'n boring stuff on the TV. Waked up at 6am hurt'n like a sum-a-gun. What the hell, this chair is super comfortable. My feet are swelled up. Bruises on my arm look terrible, worser than the day before. Maybe some new bruises from put'n that stuff back together. But anyhows, for the laast month, something just ain't right. Breathing is OK except for cough'n up puffs of smoke. Eye sight is pretty good today. Oh crap, it's rain'n.....hood is wide open an' the fuse thingys is get'n wet. *closed that sucker, now I'm wet*

Did I tell ya bout this dad gum computer? All of a sudden, the curser goes all over the screen...an' I ain't touch'n nuttin. I have no control with the touch pad. External mouse works fine. Now when it does that, I have to close the lid, what puts the laptop to sleep an' I open it up again. The curser an' touch pad is fine for a while. All this started after upgrading from Win 8.0 to 8.1. Grrrrrrrr. Ha, I got so pissed one time, I slap this thing. Oh shit, the screen go black an' rebooted. Won't be slap'n it no more. Toshiba is supposed to be a good computer. I'm wonder'n if'n it really is. Or is it Windows 8.1??

Ok, that's all I got to say right now. Damn I miss the old ol' Billy Bob!!!!    


Thursday, April 9, 2015

I can fix anything.....Yeeee Haa!!!

I am beat up, scratches, bruises, aches an' pains all over my body, all from crawl'n up under that dashboard.

At one point, I was questioning my abilities....what if I cain't find the problem? "Take it to a RV service center Billy Bob". That had crossed my mind....but only as a nightmare. Most service guys in a rv service center are "poke an' hope" technicians. Got hired out of the local bar an' grill. They know much less than the old Billy Bob does when it comes to fix'n stuff.

On top of shady service centers with uneducated service people, there's the price you have to pay at them service centers. Last time I check, you lucky to get by with $125 a hour. How many hours do I have in the "fix"? *An' it all still needs put back together* Right bout 16 hours includ'n Google research time. At a rv service center I would be sit'n on a $2000 labor bill.....give or take. Plus the time to put it back together (2 hours or so). I'm think'n I save me a few bucks don't ya think?.

So here's what happen after I remove everthing to gain access the the underside of the dashboard. I lay under there scratch'n my head...."where do I start"? I check voltages at suspected places, mainly the ignition switch since everthing worked before it was replaced. Voltages are good. I Google for hours find'n wiring diagrams, photos an' read'n RV forums with the same problems. All to no avail.

Well, I know I can fix stuff an' I been in worser situations than this....I climbs back under the dashboard. I'm gonna trace some wires.
Before I go on any further, RV and chassis manufacturers (Workhorse in this case) will try to save a dime anywhere they can, even if it means shortening wires. Then you have engineers that have nuttin better to do but to complicate things. "Hey, let's put this bundle of wires up here out of sight, instead of where a "fix it guy" can get to them". In my book, this is shoddy engineering. The engineer should be fired an' sent back to the local bar an' grill.

So, with the shortening of wires, to save a dime, tension is applied to the wires an' connecters. Are ya with me....tension on the wires an' connecters?

Now, before we get to the "I found it", let me tell ya bout steering columns. Before they are installed at the factory onto the chassis, components are first installed....ignition switch, turn signal thingy, horn button....relays an' stuff. It's one component...ready to install an' plug in a couple or 5 or 8 connecters. Ya still with me?

While I'm at it....in order to replace a ignition switch on a Workhorse chassis, the steering column has to be unbolted an' pulled away from the dash mounts. That would put additional tension on already "shortened an' tensioned" wires and connecters. We back to engineering again.
You may recall, back in Dec., I replaced the ignition switch. I pulled the steering column back away from the dash mounts. Git the picture???

I'm think'n, how comes the horn an the turn signals both don't work. There ain't no way one has anything to do with the other. Since the horn would be easier to fix first, I grabs holt to this little wire an' start tracing it further up under the dash, look'n for the horn relay to check voltage and ground. Around big ol' wiring bundles, up over heavy duty steel mountings an' braces.....I'm follow'n that little wire. I got a arm full of bruises to prove it.
 Ha, don't look so bad in a photo....

 I got my flashlight an' I'm tracing that wire. My hand hits a wiring bundle (bout a hunnert wires). It moves. It ain't supposed to move, it's plugged into a big ol' connecter that's securely mounted to the metal framework. To gain access an' find out why them wires moved, I remove more dashboard. The wiring connecter with the "shortened an' tensioned" wires is unplugged. Could this be the problem???


This photo taken after the connecter is plugged back in, turn signals an' horn tested an' a bunch of holler'n an, shout'n....."Yeee haa"......everthing works. The connecter is now unsecured from the metal framework an' no tension on the wires.

An' there you have it, all voltages, ground wires, control circuits for all that stuff that didn't work, goes through that connecter. Let's put this sucker back together an' call it a day.

One more thing. In the process of check'n stuff, the neutral safety switch solenoid stays energized after starting the engine. It gets hot. A slight twist of the key in the run position an' the solenoid drops out, just like it supposed to do. An adjustment to the ignition switch is in order.

I crawled out of bed this morn'n hurt'n like hell. It's been a while since I been in all them positions I was in under that dashboard. Think'n pretzel here. For pain, I have switched back to aspirin. Right bout 1550 to 2000mgs a day. Bruises, I got to get back off the aspirin what is a blood thinner. I also switch from Advil to Aleve...naproxen sodium. But that was a accident. My eyesight has much improved taking a daily dose of 'Lutein', what ever the hell that is....a eye health herb. One foot still has a swell'n issue. Other one not so bad.  

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Yeee Haaar's update....Talk bout scratch'n a head.....



And then....we tear stuff apart.

This is where I stand this morn'n....a tore up motorhome. No progress on find'n why I have no turn signals, hazards of a freak'n horn. Under that dash is where I replaced the ignition switch when I returned from Georgia last Dec. You all know bout THAT trip. It were a "bad" 'un.

So let's talk bout that ignition switch for a minute. It's NOT the same part number as the one I removed. Ain't the same color neither. But it's exactly the same.....everthing works except for the above mentioned. Now, for those two reasons....alone, part # an' color, I opened up that switch.....just take a look see ya know. Make sure the contacts are the same. They was. Put back together an' installed. Cranked up the motor an' called it a done job.....tested nuttin else. Let's keep this switch in mind for a bit.

"Sally da house" has bout a hunnert fuses. Two fuse boxes for the chassis an' one fuse center for the coach. All fuses test fine....no blowed fuses. I Googled for hours....no help found. I checked for loose wires....there are none. I checked all wire connecters....they all fully inserted an' tight.
Oh, did I mention....the freak'n horn don't work neither?

Bout the horn. It has absolutely nuttin to do with the turn signals. It operates by a horn button (DUH!! beep beep) an' a single ground wire that goes to the horn relay. Google....where the hell is the horn relay? Horn fuse tests just fine....full voltage. "Shoot Billy Bob, just trace out the little black wire".  

So what did the old "fix it guy" do between the time all that stuff worked an' the time it don't work. I changed the ignition switch. That's it, I didn't do nuttin else. So, today, I will remove the ignition switch an' do some test'n on it. Somewhere's I have lost voltage for the turn signal an' hazard lights. That voltage has to go through the ignition switch.....turn signals only work when you turn the key on ya know. But wait, hazards do work with the key off. Grrrrrrrr...........didn't think of that earlier.

Now, voltage testing was done at the wires com'n out the ignition switch. They all good, battery voltage on all wires in the run position. Except for that yeller one. It has a lower voltage than expected. But let's wait a minute. I did not check voltage in the start position.....that yeller wire may feed the starting circuit. Grrrrrr....so many things come to my poor old frazzled mind.

Now, bout Robert. He's such a good boy. He could come here next week to help his old daddy out an' help with the drive to Georgia, but I declined his help on the electrical stuff. He would only be moral support....he knows very little bout automotive electrical systems. We talked yesterday. He assures me that any time he is needed, he will be here. But, before that, I got me some turn signals to fix.

Any good news today will be updated as they occur.
***************************************************************************8

YEEEEE HAAA's,,,,yer daddy, he knows some smith bout fix'n stuff.
We got turn signals. We got hazard light thingys a blink'n. We got us a loud arse horn ya can hear all the ways down the block.
See, I tole ya, yer daddy ain't as stupit as you thought. An' I don't even drink whiskey....dang!!!

Ok, I'm gonna take me up some breath'n meds, sit back with a steam'n hot cup, light up a couple smokes an' celebrate. Damn I feel good.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Drastic update......Oh No!!!....Has anybody seen my fish'n pole? It ain't here.

Hope ya didn't bet a whole paycheck on me yesterday......you lost. Ended up I didn't "do nuttin". But it weren't 'cause I didn't want to. Dad gum hip went out an' I was done for the day. But I did get my insurance paid online. Check that off'n the list.

Now I have me a brand new problem. I got less than a week to get things squared away for the trip to Georgia. Ya see, when "yo mama's" daddy passed on, they gonna bring his remains back to Texas for burial along side "mom". Robert say he will come with 'em so's he can help me drive to Georgia. Sound's all good don't it? Well, it ain't as good as it sounds. There ain't no way in hell that I can ever get my list finished in a week. An' I ain't go'n until it IS finished.

Well, wait a minute....let me do some think'n bout that for a bit. I'll get back to ya laters.

Many many years ago, we was gonna go on a fish'n trip to the lake. I made me up a list of stuff to do an' stuff to take along on the trip. Everthing was look'n good the morn'n of departure. We loaded up the old station wagon, climbs in an' we on our way to the lake for the next 3, 4 or 5 days. 

A couple tents is set up, coolers set out, fire ring cleaned out, wood stacked....let's go catch some fish. Ok, who the hell stole all my fish'n stuff??? I ain't got the first fish'n pole an' no tackle box. Everthing is sit'n a hunnert mile back there in the garage. 

Ha, that reminds me another time. It was a return trip from a fish'n trip. All the camp'n stuff was loaded into the car....could'a been a station wagon. I placed all my fish'n stuff on the roof of the car so's I wouldn't leave it at the lake. We jumps in the car an' we headed home. We start unload'n the car at the house. Where the hell is my fish'n stuff??? Need I say more???

Ok, one more....me an' old "pesky neighbor"Wayne was go'n golf'n. We hook up our trailers an' load up our golf'n carts. I grabs holt to my coffee jug an' jump in the "little red bronco" an' heads down the road for the golf course. Unload the golf'n carts, pay our fees an' head for hole #1. I ain't got no freak'n golf clubs.....damn...they sit'n on "da porch" back at the RV park. 

With all I got to do an' so little time to do it, I'm cut'n this short....go do something, hurt'n or not. Don't bet over a quarter.
*********************************************************************

Oh no update....
Well, I went outside an' I check the water level in my batteries. Just a tad low, so I fill 'em up.
Then I get my list an' check off the batteries. What am I gonna work on now? How bout check'n all the lights an stuff so we can pass the safety inspection. Lights are all fine. I start the engine an' turns the turn signal on....where the hell is my turn signal dash lights? I have no turn signals. I have no hazard lights. An' on top of that, the horn no longer works. Could i have possibly installed the wrong ignition switch? Or could I have not adjust it correctly? Or could I have blowed something slap up? *fuses are all fine just in case you're think'n in that direction* The steering column will be disassembled once again to trace out the problem. Something like a two or three day affair.
Speak'n of a two or three day affair....I met me a nice lady one time......Oh wait, we talk'n turn signals an' ignition switch....sorry, scratch that.

Ok, I got a driver seat to remove to get to the steering column an' all that stuff under there. Wish me luck.  


Monday, April 6, 2015

I'm gonna make it.....maybe

I done tole the story bout the Texas skeeters what checked my driver license, frisk me an' take me to the ground. So, we ain't gonna talk bout skeeters two days in a row.
Oh wait, let me tell ya bout this one skeeter from last night. I was sit'n there in "that chair" with the door wide open. Right in front my eyes, I notice what I thought was a humm'n bird fly into "da house". Ha, weren't nuttin but a "Texas" skeeter....bout 6 oz in size. Actually, the biggest skeeters I ever see in my life, was in Texas. In the wetlands between Texas City an' Galveston. But I already tole you that story.

Out in the yard here at "el Rancho Abraham", is a old pond that at one time held water. Been dry for the last 15 years. With the rains we had in south Texas, that sucker is full of nasty stink'n greenish brown water an' gazillions of little skeeter puppies. A breeding ground, an' they know where the old Billy Bob lives.  So, if'n you got yerself a pond out in your yard, I would suggest ya go an' buy yourself a bulldozer an' fill that sucker in. The neighbors will love ya.

WOW, I couldn't believe it.....I feel pretty dad gum good again yesterday. *I'm record keep'n, so don't say nuttin* In the morn'ns I usually take me a couple pain killers. Yesterday I didn't. Very little back an' hip pain up till bout 5pm....or therebouts. Not really all that bad this morn'n, but I took me a aspirin just in case.

That hobby stuff is all stowed in the hall closet. Cross that off the list. Trash is took out an' dishes put away. Floors sweeped. But, there are a few small items still sit'n on the desktop. A few items not yet glued to the model of Alice. Maybe I do that today......after.....

Insurance is due on "Sally da house". Dad gum it, it went up again. For what I pay for insurance on "da house", I could insure a big brick home, a couple cars, a boat an' a motorcycle. An' still have some pocket change left over. There's a old say'n....once they get their hands on ya, they don't let go. Back in 2001 when I first insured Alice, every 6 months I had to shell out a whopp'n $89. Three years later, I was shell'n out $289 every 6 months. With "Sally da house".....my god, I ain't got no dollars left for gas money. When I ask 'em how comes so much, they tell me I live in a highly populated area. My address is a PO box in Port Aransas....that's it, a PO box. I don't live there....I'm homeless an' I live on the street. My latest increase is ...."Oh, you're get'n old". Grrrrrrrrr!!!!

Now just to give ya a idea how insurance company's work, when I bought "that jeep", I changed insurance companies. Holy cows, $400 a year cheaper. Then it went up. An' up again. An' now, with the "billy jeep, same insurance company, that $400, plus some, is all gone.....pooof, just like that.

Ok, I'm think'n since it's so nice outside, I'm gonna go outside. Is the battery water low? Is that camp chair comfortable? Let's go for a walk. Clean out the "billy jeep"? My god, I got lots to do.



   
 

Sunday, April 5, 2015

A typical day at Billy Bob's house

I sure ain't got me a whole lot to talk bout today, but I did get one item off'n my "Georgia trip to do list". I sorted piles of old mail from bout 6 months ago. Got all my income tax stuff in one pile, bank statements an' investment stuff in another. One doctor bill from last year for $67 what there ain't no way I'm gonna pay. That's why I have secondary insurance. Bout 20 pounds of junk mail is in the dumpster. Ha, at this rate, I'll be out of here on bout 30 days or so.

I do my income tax online. Takes right bout 4 hours to complete with my coffee breaks an' fir'n up a few smokes. Yeah I know, only low lifes smoke. Grrrrr.....that pisses me off to no end. I find smok'n no worse than somebody sit'n down an' eat'n up a whole box of freak'n Twinkies. Twinkies is NOT a health food.

Well shoot, got some news last night, "yo mama's" daddy passed away. In one way it saddens me, but in the other hand, I'm happy he no longer has to lay in that dad gum death bed an' suffer every day. He served his time, it's time to go. Same with when my daddy passed away, he had served his time an' it was time to go. I'm pretty certain he will be put to rest in his home state of Texas, along side "mom" who passed away years ago. Quite a pair them two were. But today, I ain't gonna dwell on the old memories....Rest in peace Pop Mike.

Holy cows, today is a new day. I was notice yesterday afternoon, my back an' hip weren't hurt'n too bad. My foot swell'n was look'n better. My eye sight has improved. My breath'n has improved...ha ha, lights up a smoke to celebrate. Only thing I did different was to swaller a Tylenol III the night before. So's I took up another yesterday morn'n. An' I took up another just now. Hi side blood pressure is still a little higher than I like....140's an' 150's, but the lower number is right where it supposed to be....bout 70 to 75. That's my health report for the day....stay tuned for tomorrows report.....hee hee.

I'm think'n I got every right in the world to "rant an' rave" bout my health issues all I want to. It may not be important to you, but it's a written record for me....in case some doctor needs some information at a later date. "When did you first notice this pain Billy Bob". Hold on a sec doc, let me check my blog. See what I'm talk'n bout?

I got some my hobby stuff put up in the closet. The material I builded the model of "Alice" out of, warps in this high humidity. The top has a terrible warp to it. But, it can be repaired....or I can just toss it in the dumpster an' be done with it. I'm not really satisfied with it, so it don't matter one way or another. Ha ha, but it does look like Alice.

On top of all my aches an' pains, I got freak'n ants. Little suckers run'n all over the place. An' then, when the sun goes down, a herd of mosquitoes drop by for some cookies an' ice cream. Have ya ever been bit by a piranha fish? That's what it feel like when a skeeter bites me. I swell up something terrible an' it hurts. Not just itch, but hurt. I don't know what HE was think'n when he invented a mosquito, but I don't like them blood suck'n little things. Sheesh, he could have made 'em vegetarians.

 Typical south Texas mosquitoes....

Ok, gonna try to get the desktop all cleaned off. Damn, I got way too much hobby stuff.

Laters....

   

Saturday, April 4, 2015

The car is on fire, grab a water hose....quick

Sometimes, I just want to scream bloody freak'n murder. It seems all I have to do is jump behind the wheel an' all my ailments will be cured.....poooof, just like that. Change what I'm do'n an' all my ailments will be cured.....pooof, just like that. Come on folks, do you REALLY believe that? Or is it that you just want to give me a false sense of reality?

I've got 13 years of retirement under my belt, of which, 13 of them years have been "on the road". I've had 3 severe back injurys, two of which, put me living on the floor for 6 months....each. You've seen the MRI of my back an' you may recall my trip to Georgia last year for repairs. No repairs were done. But yet, you say all I have to do is "hit the road" an' I'll be like brand spank'n new.

My blog'n for the last two years ain't been bout how much fun I'm hav'n traveling round the county....camp'n, catch'n fish an' see'n the country, it's been bout what ails me. How I feel an' what's hold'n me back from be'n the "old Billy Bob" I was not too long ago.
Ok, I'm done with todays rant.....continue on.

It was many many years ago....me an' Jerry took on a job to change a head gasket on a car for a older feller up the street. As I recall, it was a 1952 or 3 Pontiac. *my memory fails me* The guy flashed 2 $20 bills in our face an' we jump right on it. In lickity split, we tear that car down. Parts all over the yard. We change the head gasket.

Now we got to put that sucker back together, fire it up an' give it a "teenage" test run. Me an' Gerry was pretty good at chang'n points an' condensers in a distributor, but when it come to put'n the distributor an' the plug wires back in the right position for the engine to run, we was rookies. It just go pop putt boom sputt sputt. It don't start. Back then, internet weren't even a word to do any research an' we didn't own no repair manuals. Hit an' miss was our expertise (experience).

Well, we piddle dittle with that thing until the battery is slap dead....t still don't start. Just go pop putt boom sputt sputt. We decide we gonna push start it. Up the street we go, 30 mile a hour (that's the way teenagers do things ya know). The clutch is released.....BAAABOOOOOM...the carburetor is slap on fire. People begin to congregate as me an' Gerry is jump'n up an' down try'n to extinguish this raging fire. One observer says...."throw sand on it" an' he grabs up hands full of sand, toss'n it in the open carburetor. The fire rages on. In the distance I hear what appears to be a fire truck. Oh shit, now we in deep trouble.

A water hose is applied an' the fire is out.....the sounds of a siren is draw'n nearer. Me an' Gerry, as quickly as possible, push that car back down the street. Park it an' haul ass for Uncle Lukes house. Aunt Myrt says....what's all the sirens about...is there a fire"? I don't know nuttin bout it I tell her.

I swear, it weren't 10 minutes later an' there's a knock on the door. Cop cars an' a big ol' fire truck sits in the street. Aunt Myrt say...."I knew it, I knew you two had to be involved". Me an' Gerry was well known bout town.

After sign'n a bunch of papers an' get'n a royal ass chew'n, life in a small town went on. The following day we was back to start'n that car like nuttin had happen. The hood was reinstalled an' the car delivered to it's owner, who knowed nuttin bout the fire an' the ruckus his car had caused. We collected our $20 a piece an' we went look'n for further mischievous endeavors to get into. With me an' Gerry, we didn't have to look far.

As I aged from my younger days, an' I no longer do stupit stuff, the memories from them days bring smiles an' laughter to my life. Man, what it would be like to relive them days just one more time.

Oh wait, bout that camera. It looks like I'm gonna have to get me another one the same as this one. With outside sunshine once in a while, I go to have a viewfinder. The Cannon 1300 an' 1400's have viewfinders. But, my god, the prices have sky rocketed. More research.     

Friday, April 3, 2015

OOPS...camera problems

Ha ha...hamburgers an' cheeseburgers. That was fun.
Now, when you go to a burger sell'n place an' ya order a hamburger, what's the first thing the little girl is gonna ask ya? "Would you like cheese on that"? Had I wanted cheese on my HAMburger, I would have ordered a CHEESEburger. That's what I tell 'em an' the get all twisted up....pissed. Any top chef will tell you, hamburgers an' cheeseburgers are cooked differently. The same meat, but cooked to a different doneness. Hamburgers are full of juices when cooked corretly, where a cheeseburger, the juices are cooked out....over cooked.
Oh hell, just forget it......."gimme a hamburger....with no cheese"

My little walk yesterday didn't work out as I had planned. Instead of walk'n the planned 6 meters, I only walked  bout 300 yards. Hee hee....suck up on them apples.
I slip my sandals on my swolled feet an' out the door I go. I'm gonna walk them dad gum 3 "burritos" around the yard....just follow 'em where ever they go. Them "burritos" are young donkeys ya know. Bout 1 or 2 meters (close to 150 yards), my back says to me...."we got to sit down". So's I head back to my camp'n site, sit down an' call it a day for walk'n exercise. Very little housework got done.

Ha, remember that great big ol' hamburger I tole you I was gonna grill up? When I get that thing all put together, I was so proud, I was gonna take a pic of it.....I'm talk'n BIG an' BEAUTIFUL hamburger. I pulls the memory card out of the computer to put in the camera.....the damn thing falls slap apart into 2 pieces. Now I got a whole bunch of '2015 photos on that memory card what I ain't saved to the computer an' I sure would hate to lose them. "Super glue Billy Bob, glue that sucker back together". One little drop is applied....YIKES, I have a memory card glued to the end my thumb. I gently an' very cautiously insert it into the computer....YEEE HAAA, it works. I save photos. But when I slide it into the camera, it don't lock into place. A new card is tryed. It don't lock in place neither. But....when I close the little door thingy, the camera works. I'm think'n the old Billy Bob is in the market for a new camera. Now what kind do I buy this time???

I've owned two Cannon pocket cameras an' both of 'em have give me problems. The freak'n lens locks up an' ya gotta "slap" it to get it to work again. This is the second memory card that got broke.....maybe from the camera. I rekon I got me some research to do. Find me a camera what can stand the abuse I usually give a camera....drop 'em an shit like that...leave 'em out in the rain...slap 'em ever once in a while. You'll be the first to know.

Ok, speak'n bout depression. Yes, men get depressed too.....sheesh! A couple years ago I bought a big ol' bottle of St Johns Wort. But at the time I bought it, my doctor said NOT to take it while on the meds I was take'n at the time. He prescribed a depression med for me to try. Blood pressure went sky high an' I was like really really dizzy. Throwed that crap in the dumpster. You wouldn't believe the side effects of that stuff. But anyhows, I'm think'n now that I got rid of most my meds, St Johns would be safe to take. I've took it before an' it helped. I've got to do something!!! Any input would be appreciated.

How bad can depression get? Well let me tell ya. A few years back, I tole my kids that when the time comes, I'm gonna head for the desert. For the last couple three or six weeks, I've been think'n of a trip to the desert. It's that bad. Damn, I need to get to Georgia as fast I can. Fix some stuff.

My "on the road again" travel prep list ain't get'n no slimmer. It's fat, needs to go on a diet...git some stuff done an' checked off the list. Have ya ever have a hunnert things what need done an' all ya wanna do is sit on yer ass sip'n up a cup an' watch'n the dad gum TV. Shoot, I even watch the Mexican channels.....cartoons an' kid shows.      

Thursday, April 2, 2015

No broke bones, no gaping wounds...not the old Billy Bob

I've told many stories bout my life on my blog an' I was able to relive all them stories as I write 'em. Like yesterday's story. As I was writ'n that story, I was sit'n there on that front fender with my laptop sit'n on the hood....type'n away. There are many stories I cain't write bout on my blog. I don't want to take the chance that my grandkids will attempt do'n the same things an' then say..."well papaw did it an' he didn't get hurt". Well yeah I did get hurt. Many many times. I've falled out of trees...an' I got hurt. I've jumped off roofs...an' I got hurt. I've crashed bicycles into moving cars....an' I got hurt. I've been dog bited, cat scratched, almost drowned numerous times, throwed slap off of horses....I've been hurt. But as I recall, I was never hurt bad enough that I wasn't out there the next day do'n the same things.
But I ain't never breaked a single bone in my body. I ain't never had no stitches to close up a gaping wound. I ain't never sit in a emergency room wait'n for hours to be examined for head injuries. 

Now don't get me wrong, 'cause I have been to emergency rooms. On more than one occasion. Like the time I was do'n service on a rooftop heater at a business in West Virginia. I get way down on my hands an' knees so's I can watch the burners come on when I flip the switch (breaker). That's what servicemen do ya know. I flip the switch....that heater blows slap up, blow'n me backards towards the edge of the roof. Facial hair is gone, eyes are full of rust particles....I cain't see shit. Police cars, a ambulance an' a fire truck show up, take me to the emergency room. That afternoon, I fix that dad gum furnace.

At the University of Texas, I was work'n on a sulfuric acid pump for the cooling tower water treatment system. As I release the connector from the acid pump to the piping system.....pooof, that acid line come slap apart. *There was still pressure in the lines.* I am blasted with a spray of "flesh eat'n" sulfuric acid. Fortunately, I wear glasses. I spray my face, neck an' arms with the emergency wash down an' head for the shop.....jump in the shower. Ambulance arrive an' take me to the emergency room. I have not one scar from that ordeal.

We won't be discuss'n the other times I visited the emergency room. They was just plain ol' stupidity on my part. A lump the size a goose egg. Swolled up body parts. Scrapes an' bruises....stuff like that.  

Had a long talk with my son Robert yesterday night. Ya see, he ain't been keep'n contact with his daddy like he said he would. An' in these try'n times, I need contact. Our talk was all serious talk, so I won't even go there bout it. It was a good talk. My mind is more at ease.

It's already late in the day, so there will be no story today. I'm gonna go take me a little walk an' maybe do some much needed house work. Got me a full bottle of propane, so we gonna be grill'n tonight. A huge ass grilled hamburger sure do sound good. Lettuce, mater, pickle an' a slab of onion. Ya cain't beat that with a stik. By the way, ya don't put cheese on a hamburger, ya put cheese on a cheeseburger. There IS a difference. 


Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Grill'n pizza an' ride'n on a fender

I was grill'n pizza. I goes outside to check on it 'cause I don't see no more smoke com'n out from under the lid. What could possibly be wrong that there ain't no smoke? Oh oh, we slap out of propane. It's oven time. The pizza was great.

I don't remember if'n I ever told ya, but I use to not like pizza...not at all. In fack, I couldn't stand the stuff. So's I opened me up a pizza sell'n place. Served carry out medium an' large pizzas, Blue Bell ice cream an' occasionally walnut cake thingys....brownies. Outside was the miniature golf course an' a remote control car race track. Due to own'n a golf course, the business was named "Mr. Putt's Pizza". Business was slow due to location (Cut off Road) an' when it rain, my park'n lot was a mud hole. Funds were tight. But after time, I learn to like pizza, especially mine. *I'm think'n maybe Digiorno Rising Crust Supreme Pizza may have stole my recipe.* "Mr. Putts Pizza" was shut down after find'n my business partner (XX wife) was steal'n big ol' hands full of funds from the till an' when the bill collectors show up, there weren't no cash. But it was fun while it lasted...an' today, I like pizza. So it weren't a total loss.

Don't know if my walk yesterday could be considered a walk or not. It weren't very far. I had to sit down an' I had to sit down right now. So what do ya do when ya got to sit down? Well shoot, ya brew up a big ol' sammich an' ya take up a nap.....what else is there to do?

After writ'n yesterday's story, I go to think'n.....I ain't got many more stories to tell. Not good 'un anyhows. But, there are stories to tell. Like this one I'm gonna tell today.

Ya see, over on the OFM Barney's blog, he had him a little accident. He eat up some pavement. That reminded me of the time.....

Back in the late 50's us boys would jump in a car an' go explor'n....make a adventure out of a simple car outing. We was in cousin Lukie's old 1949 Oldsmobile, five of us. We took off to Robbers Roost located this side the Sierra mountains go'n to Bakersfield, Ca.....a few miles from Walkers Pass in the Sierra Mountains
This weren't the first time I been to Robers Roost, but this time, I was eat'n sand, dirt an' little sticks for lunch.

We spent a few hours climb'n round on that rock outcrop, we jump'n in the car an' do'n brodies (donuts) out in the desert, cruis'n them old dirt roads a hunnert mile a hour.

It was crowded in the car. So's me and....my god, I done forget his name...we climb out on the front fenders. Remember my location....driver side front fender.
Before I go on any further, I got to tell ya bout Luckie. He ain't like none the rest of us boys, he's a sissy, mama's boy....don't do nuttin what might cause a little pain. He do everthing accord'n to the book...we are go'n down a road bout 5 mile a hour. But....sit'n next to him in the front seat is my "hazardous" buddy Gerry. He says to Luckie..."step on it" an' he reaches over his foot on to Luckies foot...the engine roars an' we go'n a hunnert mile a hour. I'm hang'n on for rear life.

Luckie gets skeered. Not for us guys out there on the front fenders, but skeered he might get hurt if'n he crashes into a bush or something like that. He slams on the brakes to a screech'n halt. Me an' what's his name, we keep go'n, fly'n through the air. "Houston, we have launch". My feet is go'n a hunnert mile a hour just like Jesus is run'n lickity split on water.....I hit the ground run'n. I don't run 25 or 30 mile a hour. That old dirt road is eat'n my lunch as I tumble along, arms an' legs frail'n, for a good hunnert feet or more. Come to a stop in one them bushes Luckie was skeered of crash'n into. I'm pull'n pieces of wood out my bare arms, my hands are on fire from try'n to stop on that hard ass dirt road. "Oh my god!!!...I feel blood run'n out my mouth an my nose". I place a hand under my mouth an' nose....shoot, that ain't blood, it's sand. I got me a mough full of sand an' sand up my nostrils.   
Bodily damage inspections are made. Gerry is laugh'n his ass off. I'm good to go for another day....after I heal. But I ain't rid'n on that freak'n fender no more.

I mentioned Robbers Roost a couple time in the past.....like the time I went mountain lion hunt'n with a single shot .22 cal. rifle....at night.  Sane people don't do that. Only adventurous fools do.

Nuttin has changed. My depression is on edge, I hurt like hell in that damn right hip an' a little swell'n in the feet again this morn'n. An' I got a ton of things to do. Damn, 1000 miles to Georgia....will I make it?