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Monday, October 5, 2009

hot and humid....sweat everywhere

After all the abuse directed at old Billy Bob last night in the comments section about bringing a dead cat to life, I'm think'n maybe I need to reflect on the present instead of my mischievous, silly, funny and adventurous boy hood days.
By the way River, how you know bout "Fred da duck"????

Speak'n of Fred da duck....I even wrote a little poem bout him...wanna hear it???

My Duck Fred

I love my duck
I named him Fred
He watches over us
While we are off to bed

He has shiny white feathers
A scar on his back
His beak is taped shut
So no quackity quack quack

Someone had left him
On the side of the street
With both wings broken
No shoes on his feet

Some caring soul
Placed him in my yard
For me to take care of
And my dogs to guard

I look through my window
At this pitiful duck
Out there laying in the mud
What terrible luck

Yes, I love my little white duck
The one I named Fred
I'll keep him forever
Where ever I tread

Now, back to reality. Boy howdy is it ever hot in Port A. Well.....it's not really hot (87.4), but the humidity is like 90%. Sheesh Billy Bob, why do you go places like this??? Of all the places in the US to visit, I'm in Port Aransas sweat'n like a stuffed hog. But I ain't gonna be here long. Pull'n out Wednesday for ???????. Just check the weather for Houston......yeah, might still go there....and it's gonna be a hot one there too. Look'n in my little money bag, I got's just enough to make it there, play a round or two and still have three dollars left. Sounds good to me!!!

Back later........don't go away

BRIAR PATCH

I was barefooted running at break neck speed across the corn field
with two of the older boys hot on my heels.

Them two boys had done got them a "good" whoppin from Moms
because of me "tell'n" on them.

I was headed for the only sanctuary I was safe in,
the briar patches down by the creek bank,
scream'n "MOMS" all the way.

I knew my way in and I knew my way out.
My feet was tuff as leather and no sticker burrs or thorns was gonna slow me down.
Even that "old ugly dog" wouldn't go in there unless he was foller'n me.
Them boys was out to get even, but ain't no way they gonna catch a bolt of lightning.
They was throwing ears of corn, rocks and sticks and cussing like sailors all the ways.
But this day was not their day to get even.
I started screaming..."MOMS....MOMS" "I'm gonna tell moms"
and they back off in the corn field and let me be.

I could see them hiding out there in the corn field, waiting for me to come out,
so's I stayed in there for hours.

Just me and that old ugly dog, talk'n and schem'n up new adventures.
I caught me a red fox one time in that briar patch.
But turned him loose real quick when he bite the crap outta me.



4 comments:

  1. I have been following the Slabs group for a year or so, and have visited with you on that group. I even wrote a poem about you getting stuck in the lake, so I was there when you found ol' Fred.

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  2. It's on that hard drive that crashed along with all of the other good stuff I had. I finally got a giant remote hard drive that I back every thing up on now. Little late.

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  3. first confessions of a cat napper, and now out foxed? lol you make me roll.

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