Freshly back from a day of high school league golf, and I am ready for another round. At least today’s match will be in a very quiet, secluded venue. Yesterday’s match was a great time, but sadly, the course is bordered by a small plane airport, and a major freeway.
So much for hearing the birds chirp and the leaves rustle gently in the breeze. Nope, small planes, mostly props, taking off for the S.F. bay area every thirty to sixty seconds. It sounds like a fleet of flying lawn mowers taking off. As for the freeway? The main artery from the San Joaquin Valley to San Fransisco and the bay area is the northern border of the course! The only description I can think of is think of the freeway as a pile of poop and sugar, and the cars, and trucks are ants and cockroaches who have tapeworms! They never stop moving.
Now that I think about, the intrusion into our daily, and personal lives by the federal government is much the same. We are the fairways, and the Fed is the ever-present, noisy runway/freeway and those darn bugs are represent politicians/laws that plague us Americans that just want to be left alone on our fairways to play golf. No matter how good or bad we are at the game/life.
Yeah, but what do I know, my claim to fame is being able to eat multiple Habaneros and swig gallons of beer on a Monday morning:)
Sorry for the slight injection of politics, but it has been quite awhile since I went American Terrorist!
I am not even sure that there are 10 things I don’t like, but here are the ones that jump into my dome:
Sweet potatoes. Can’t stand them in any way, shape or form.
Ham, yup, I do not like ham. It is the only pork product I don’t like. Give me pickled feet, ears, and the almighty BACON anytime.
SPAM: Don’t know the food group, or what animal this stuff comes from, but eating food that looks like somebody else chewed it ain’t my mug of beer.
Humus: What the heck is this junk? Had it the other day on a cracker. Yuk, rather like the bottom of a diary man’s boot on a rainy day.
Pumpkin: Sweet potato’s rancid cousin!
OK, this is enough for now. I was preparing for lunch but now I think I will have to wait a few minutes to settle my gut worm down:)
BTW, feel free to give me any recipes that make any of the above likable by this Hillbilly…without a case of beer!
Unflippin believable!, just a few days after getting my boys home from the extended vet visit, the “Fight” lands BillWilly back in the hospital. No, BillWilly, all 10 pounds of him, was not fighting off intruders, no was he attacked by a rabid postman. Nope, that would be fine, but he picks a fight with B.W., and gets torn up. Really, torn up! B.W. tore his fur from his muscle! A perfect “V” shape of now flapping fur and skin hanging off of BillWilly’s front shoulder. As soon as I sent a photo to Dr. Rob via cellphone, yes, us 80’s guys are pretty tech savvy, he said to bring him in to get stitched up. Great, more of my money being spent on these boys.
It all started over them jockeying for seat position next to me during our weekend beer and bbq bash in the backyard. I was able to break that one up, without spilling my beer mind you. This past Monday, while lying on the floor watching Man vs Food, The Brother’s Brawl began. BillWilly started it by growling at B.W. over cushion position. It is always first come first serve, and if you move you lose. Well, BillWilly was giving B.W. the business because he felt B.W. was too close to his spot. B.W. was having none of this mess, and the brawl was on. By the time I pried B.W.’s choppers off of BillWilly, the damage was done. B.W. was spitting fur, and BillWilly was gushing blood. It was kind of “country music songesque”. All my years at my current occupation, and my college years bouncing, this fight ranks right up there with the best and messiest of them all.
So as I write this, BillWilly is laying in the hospital awaiting the surgical skills of D. Rob to patch him up. There ain’t a doubt in my dome, that he will be coming home and wearing the darn “Doggie Cone.” That stupid inverted lampshade that keeps a pup from licking their wounds. I think I need to wear one to keep me from licking my back pocket where I keep my money, because my bank account is about to flat-line:)
A co-worker buddy of mine was telling me a story of how he was talked into going to a Melissa Manchester concert back in the day…Ya know, before the world was color. Like a dumb-ass, I asked him what was her big hit. YIKES! Now I am Crying Out Loud because this tune is rattlin’ in my bucket!
Ok ya all, i am gooing to get this puppy started! I want to set the mood for my day and I ma not going to let all of the crappy political and socila stories do it for me.
Ok, I noticed I have been slacking on building my Blog-Roll. I have been saying all of these nice things about my cyber friend here at Word Press, but I have not kept up on adding to ” The Roll.” So I am going to try to add a few of my followers each day.
See, I have been trying to become a well-rounded, more people friendly Conservative Hillbilly. One, because I just like to be a swell guy, though some will never believe it. And secondly, friendly people tend to get free beer more often than non-friendly folks! So, you see, my belief that beer is the great uniter once again is proven correct! 🙂
Yup, I am going to buckle down for once in my adult, or should I say semi-adult life, and set a goal, even though redneck through and through. I want a full-blown live off the grid camper for my truck! And part of this goal, is that I also have to invest a few grand in the truck too. I am proud of the fact that my primary mode of transportation will be 40 years young in 2014. In this day and age where your mechanic has a doctorate in engineering, and there is so much plastic on vehicles, that you can’t park it in direct sunlight for more than an hour, my 1974 Ford is mostly metal, and has nearly 460,000 thousand miles, and is paid for.
So, back to my goal, which I have to keep writing down because of my self diagnosed ADHD ( beer is the med of choice) I dream of traveling during my summers off. I don’t care if it is 30 miles to my favorite catfish hole, or 700 hundred miles to my other favorite catfish hole on the Colorado River in Arizona. I wanna know that if the country crashes, I can live off of the grid. Or more truthfully, I wanna sit outside of my camper, butt parked in the green and white striped lawn chair, Conway Twitty blasting, feet up on the cooler, tall cold one in hand, and dogs scratchin fleas like there is no tomorrow, and I am not working! This is my Heaven until Big J returns the second time to Earth to set things straight.
I think I can do this. What is it again?, that’s right, I remember now. 🙂
Proud Military Mom's Common Sense Blog
Just a working class, empty nesting, life long Democrat disgusted with the DNC, the Democratic Party, the ‘RULZ’ Committee and the power brokers who think we should all fall in line and vote for the selectee. Country before party every time!
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Right Wing Theocrat
Yes liberals, your worst nightmares about Conservatives, Christian theocracies, gun toting, hanging pedophiles, lowering taxes, burning your pot, making you work and all that are really true.
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theconservativehillbilly 
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