woodworker

Yeah, hop to it Nancy, and don't forget that long iron of yours.

In Celebration of Women's, "Herstory Month",

I give you..

My last song for a while.

Thanks StdCld.     The song always hit home with me.    Glad you liked it. 

I've always liked this song.   Hopefully some of you will too.

I thought I'd drop another quarter in the old juke box.   It used to be just a dime, then quickly went to two bits, and now in todays money would probably be around six dollars or so, with a convenient slot to slip your fucking credit card in.      

Anyway, this one goes out to a great guy around here.  StdCld      A Stone Cold killer if ever there waz one.

                                                                                               A CAUTIONARY TALE

                                                                             WEST OF THE PECOS

Imagine wearing the dust, and the stench, after eight days in the saddle and finally stumbling onto Roy Beans water hole.   What kind of foul luck or predicament is that!    There you are just needing a bath and a drink and standing there now staring at that insidious picture of Lilly Crabtree, or whatever the fuck her name was, hanging there cock-eyed on the wall just behind the bar.    A picture that has no doubt been knock off it's axis by a wad of the old man's cum, while he star gazed at her voluptuous lines periodically.

Then comes the question.

Bean:   "I see you bin staring pretty hard at dat picture."   "So what do you think of her?"

Now you better think quick.   You know he wouldn't be asking if he didn't have some sort of personal attachment to it, aside from that blurry splotch left there on the bottom left corner.

So what do you say?       Something like:    "She's alright I guess, but I've had better back in Cheyenne."   That kind of response, along with maybe calling Bean's mother a whore could get you a burial plot behind the adjoining shed outback.  

Life was tough in those days with unbridle psychopaths at every turn, and you had to be quick both in mind and in hand, or else your just another short conversation from the local lurkers there.

"Hey, remember when dat guy had the temerity to say dat he had better than our own precious Lilly Crabtree?"

"Yeah, we shore did fill him up with holes."    "And I waz the one that had to drag his stinking body all the way out to the back and burry him proper, wit no thanks to anyone else around here."   "But at least he did leave me a pretty nice horse though."

Almost brings a tear to my eye.

13 minutes ago, StnCld316 said:

That Autograph would be worth Thousands by now if you still have it.

I love my mother dearly.   But along with quite a few gold coins, and hundreds of old Indian pennies, and many, many old 1800's silver dollars, the Elvis autograph is missing too.   

When I was in my teens I use to look at the dates on some of those old silver dollars and imagined them being tossed up on the bar counter.    Who knows, maybe it was for a procurement of one of those soiled doves I've heard about back then.   

"Bar tender give me a whisky, and a gold headed whore, if you don't mind."   

24 minutes ago, woodworker said:

I never liked his music all that much, except for a few songs but always liked him for being a true American and a true patriot, unlike so many in the entertainment business.    There's kind of a funny story concerning Elvis and me that took place in the mid fifties.  I was five years old at the time, when he came to Detroit to play at Tiger stadium.    I kind of knew who he was, as I use to like to sing to myself one of his songs, "Are You Lonesome Tonight."   

Anyway, I went with my mother to go see him.   And after the gig, they dressed Elvis up to look like one of the door attendants.   But the gobs of women there were on to this quick!   Well, my mother who was too far away from him, and knowing that she would never be able to get past that mob, gave me a little piece of paper and told me to go and get his autograph.   I was in a sea of female legs, as I bobbed and weaved my way to him.   I guess because I was so little, he looked down and smiled at me, as I then, without saying a word stuck my arm up with that little piece of paper, and he took it from my hand and signed it.   It got me a big hug from my mom, and so to me I suppose it was worth it.    He truly was a nice man.  

PS.  I suppose, if he didn't sign it, I would have kicked him in the shins.  

15 hours ago, HarleyFatboy said:

WW,  I'm glad to see you are alive and kicking but I have to confess that I don't know anything about those last few songs you posted.   I will say that I will be checking them out more in the next few days.   Thanks for posting them WW!!!

Take care of yourself my friend!!!!!

Harley

The first three are something of a lark, being so weird and unusual.   He is a psychopathic killer, or as he puts it "A low life with a sense of direction."   

Anyway, they made me laugh, and thought that some here may get a kick out them too.

And thank you my friend.    As always.

For some the old guys, I still think fondly of from time to time.

On ‎2016‎-‎09‎-‎08 at 11:49 AM, BBsq69 said:

Leora on the 7th

"And it seems like the only position he seems to like, is when I'm riding on top on him."   "Oh, and did I mention that his pecker sort of resembles the horn of a saddle?"   "And lately I've been thinking about maybe getting some spurs to help liven things up,.. What do you think?"    "Hilga, are you awake?"

For you Patti~     Just keep holding on to that love you once held for me.

PARTING SORROW

The halls of my heart are empty and dark~ Now that she is gone from me

Where once there were sunlit skies where Nature's own joys did grace my eyes~

Now there are only shadows and gloom that fills this room~ Now that she has gone from me

And where once she stood ever so near~ Her gentle laugh ever so dear

Now there is only this faint memory~ Of what once was~ Now gone from me

Thanks Harley, I appreciate your friendship, very much.

In a line from one of my fractured poems, I give to those that I care about here.

May this house be filled with laughter and cheer

And with love in those quiet times for those you hold dear

I didn't open the link above, just as I don't open up any un-expected packages left at my door, ever since Ted Kaczynski.   (The Unabomber)

But the blue line reads, gregg-popovich-respects-athletes-protesting-national-anthem/

For one thing, who a fuck what he respects or thinks.   And for another,.. If you hate this country so damn much, then get the fuck out of it.  

So why don't you just take your dreadlocks and your multi-million dollar contracts, and head on back to Somalia, or some other Muslim hell hole over there, and then you won't have to endure hearing our national anthem anymore.