Springinter

This crap of for one second bein’ about 80 degrees out where I can wear my
speedo while sitting out on the porch sippin sweet tea and the next morning
waking up with 30 degree temps is for the skunks. Is it to much to ask that we
don’t believe a stupid rodent named Phil from Philadelphia? The last guy I knew
from Philly didn’t know his asshole from a hole in the ground and we run our
lives off of something that is uglier than my ex wife’s sister in a bikini with a thong
up her crack. … Now that right there is an image for ya! All 250 lbs of golf ball
dimpled as. When that lady (loosely termed – Pun intended) walks, it makes Bill
Cosby jealous of Jello. She has more wiggle than an earthworm on a fishing
hook that’s danglin’ in front of a large mouth bass. And that mouth of her’s could
swallow grass carp whole. But enough about the beauty queen for this Blog…
So why this weather then? That ole Assistant President Gore the whore always
said it was global warming. Well, that sure ain’t a sign, I been using stick
deodorant for years, and nothing has changed in my world that’s for sure. Hot
summers, cold winters. I say it’s just a part of a little thing we call seasons, I
know, give me my Piece Prize now, for doing absolutely nothing like the rest
of the banjo pickers for the Mormon Tallywacker Choir getting theirs, by doing
NOTHING. I have scooped 5 inches of partly cloudy white stuff, and then been
rained on with no chance of rain, All in he same week!!. Someone somewhere
is gonna get a talking to by yours truly. I wonder what all is going on upstairs
to make thim think, Ha! watch this trick. I tell ya what, when, and if, I get up
there, I need to have me some questions answered. Then I can just say well,
in Nebraska, this is how it is suppose to go… Then I’ll set that dial on the
thermometer and gradually move it up and down, They’ll be none of this bumping
the temp like a 5 year old playing football in the hallway, and then hip checkin’
the dial. Just nice and easy all done by yours truly… , oh, speaking of nice and
easy, don’t be silly wrap ole willy.

Facebook FOOD

You know to think about it, the Arch Dictator in the White House has brought
about change in this fine world of ours according to exercise. I am totally shocked
the knothead don’t have Facebook, and if he does, then I say tag that man in a
bunch of pork recipes on Facebook! It sure seems like change is coming, I didn’t
mind the pictures, the funny e-cards, and now, really?!? I have to sit there and
look at some concoction of an eagle headed warrior instead of drooling over
duck lips on some half naked chick like I normally do? We might as well just
do a YouTube push and get it all out in the damn open there Zuckerman,. Why
don’t we just play the same ad’s like they have on TV? I was thinkin’ we had
Facebook sos’ we could talk, meet up, hang out, and enjoy some laughs, but
now all of a sudden some escaped hen from the Pintrest party has moved her
pin me junk over to good old Facebook… it’s like the old game of Pin the tail on
a damn donkey and now I got me food recipe’s posted all over and instead of
my Duck faces on Facebook! If this wasn’t a crime yet I’m a gonna recommend
to my congressman that it should be! After all, It’s about time he did something
constructive anyways right?!?
Now as you may or may not know, I’m currently and plan to be a bachelor.
Like most of us, the only oven we know how to operate is of the MICROWAVE
variety… matter fact, seems to me that’s the ONLY oven one even needs, that
I can recon anyways… Now on the other hand, If I wanted one of those nice
looking gourmet meals, I would go out to eat at the Sam’s Club deli like everyone
else! But when I’m sittin’ on my fat ass here in my Laz-z Boy simply cause I’m
not going to let our fine government tell me what I have to do for exercise, the
last thing I want to see is some Pampered Chef whipped up dinner in a crock-pot
bubbling over like a drunk guy that missed his spittoon.
Now to be sure there are a few things that crack me up, but there’s also some
things that get me more riled up than a car thief who forgot his cell phone in the
stolen car, and perhaps (for me at least) this must be one of them. It’s got me so
riled up my hair has even turned red from my face getting so flushed up! So off I
go to suck the soul from whoever I can find that posts that crap on my Facebook
page. Jus you wait till I find em’!
You know, Oddly enough, the more I think about it, maybe I should start a
movement, matter o fact, it probably took me more calories to hit the delete
button than it did to read your dang recipe you slapped on my screen, I really
may be onto something here... Well, screw it, I guess I’ll just go back to find the
duck lipped half naked chick that thinks she’s all that and a bucket of chicken,
(when actually , it takes more than 8 beers to even have her resemble her
profile pic). So, if you want to jump on the bandwagon and join me in this little
campaign, let’s get to it!, But just in case you’re not, don’t be silly n’ wrap ole
willy! (and by the way, good luck with findin’ that perfect chick that matches her
profile pic.

March Madness

Well it’s that time of year again when you have all these wannabe basketball fans & followers putting money on a table making bets their asses can’t cash. One thing’s for sure though, the winner is going to be the winner and second place will just be the first loser same as it's always been! We as Americans just don’t seem to understand the fact that making bets and getting all emotionally wrapped up in some wide eyed college kids who are most likely more excited about finding a few beers and a date on Saturday night just don’t make sense.

 We have come down a long dirt road though I suppose, from the coach tossing chairs at the refs and players, to him then getting a promotion working at a major network and making him out to be much bigger than he really is. Oh Yeah Baby that makes a lot of sense huh?!?! I sit here and wonder as a “normal guy” college football fan & watcher, when is Sandusky going to have a new show titled “Behind the Bars - An Outlook on Sports”? By the way in case you were wondering, none of us are ever gonna know what, where, and most importantly how that whole mess at Penn St. happened!

 Anywho, one thing will remain true though… we’re gonna place our trust in five kids on a court trying to toss a round ball into an apple basket and score some points so WE can try and make some money off of it! Now really, does that make any sense? If that’s our guide, what IS this world coming to anyway? Take for instance most kids these days, they don’t work, mommy and daddy pay for everything, and on top of that they expect everything given to them on a silver platter… Then we as adult’s are gonna let something they actually DO have to work for, oddly enough, and we try to make us a couple hundred bucks off a lucky wager from their hard work! Now those are some Messed up odds don’t ya think?.

 

So as your sitting your fat butt in your lazy-boy watching March Madness on television, and I’m sitting here on mine watching some good ole hockey, wondering who’s going to get suspended for a game by hitting who, (cause I love me some contact sports), sit back n relax, and remember, white men can’t jump!... Or is that just another messed up belief we have been taught from our upbringing? Well, while that movie attempted educate us and make millions in the theater at the same time, it obviously didn’t do enough, cause in the case of college basketball, there are white people that can jump! So take your bets, slap some money on the table, but just remember when you lose, just don’t be surprised if the wife is pissy, and if you happen to win some cashola off the hard work of those kids, just remember one thing…. Don’t be silly, wrap ole willy. ROCK CHALK!!

Small Town USA

Nobody knows what it is like to leave your house unlocked, not have your guns loaded incase of emergency, how a neighbor calls to tell you someone is being crazy down at your business and went and checked it out for you. People have set their ways, thanks to our government, of loading guns, locking doors, and turning this world into survival of the fittest. It's small town Nebraska where this image was all erased this past weekend.
There ain't nothing like gonna do a comedy show, having to throw out some motivational speaking, and then back to the comedy show. One thing came to my mind, they have enough fun in this town without a comic, and somewhere else they need a boost. Well, I came and delivered. I'm not saying they were the hardest crowd, they were all out of high school, but they were "good ole boy" small town USA. A place we have all forgotten about, and let corruption take over and change the way we live.
This is a town where mama can still stay home, and dad bust his ass to make ends meet. If they fall behind some, a neighbor or friend come in and help there. A place where the door locks only meet the jam once a year during the BIG Rodeo. And the only place in America where there is a bar in with the rodeo museum, and the keeper of the museum greets you with a handshake and a beer. A small town that if the weather changes, the mayor speaks up and gives you a place to stay at his house.
We as Americans have totally forgot about this, nor do we read it in books any longer because we want both parents working and make ends hard to meet so we can make it easier for the people that give up in life to find more houses to rob from. This is the small town if they had such a problem, they would shoot, and drag the body inside, and then call for help.
So I challenge you get out, learn about rural America and see how one can put the heart back into yourself to trust others, have others help believe in you, and move on in this world, not really caring about anything other than when the next BIG Rodeo is and what is going to be the entertainment. A great place to visit, but a damn good place to live. Go hit up Burwell Nebraska on your thru and come the last week of July and see the rodeo, I know you will walk out of that town with a new friend, and watch out for the ranch girls, theres only 2 things to do, and if they run out of beer, don't be silly wrap ole willy.

Gun Rights, my feelings, and mine alone

As I sit here, eating a bag of chips, sippin on sweet tea, and typing up this blog. I am watching my stats on here, and OBVIOUSLY Obama"don't"care has taken effect. I am shocked to see that 23 people right now, are either laid off, or maybe, just maybe are reading my blog and watching for their boss over their should. Chances are, laid off.
Some people in this world can think of the most off the wall ideas, and thus be one to me. I have spent 4 years in the U.S. Army, got to shoot all kinds of neat shit, blow stuff up, went to different countries, and have tried many a beers. One thing that really gets to me though, is these assault weapons. Now first off, you cannot hunt with them so don't even try to say we are taking your rights away. If you tried to take my gun rights away, or hunting, we would have a major problem. So what is the point in owning such a rifle? Well, in my world it's just like owning a pitbull. Nothing but a chest badge, making you feel more dominate.
On the other hand, if you really think a robber is going to be scare of an assault gun, you have another thing coming, your chances of knocking them down with a single little 1/4 inch piece of lead has nothing on my 12 gauge shotgun with a spread of a cheap hooker working the Vegas strip. Not only is my shotgun able to be go out and hunt with, but it's gonna rip the drywall down both sides of the hallway down to the studs and knock a robber right in their tracks. The simple sound of metal clunk loading a shotgun is more scary than some scared dude with an assault rifle trying to hit something.
So, beings we live in a nation that has gun rights, pistol rights, and hunting. Why would you buy a gun that only looks good and can't be used for anything else? For the same reason us dudes always look for the trophy wife. She sure is nice to parade around, make your friends drool, but really, who wants all that baggage too? Its not really guns that kill people, it's people that kill people, but if we as American's don't stop and smell the roses, what is the point of even walking in the rose gardens?
I am a firm believer of background checks, mental evals, and dealer determinations. We all know people can say whatever they want on paper, but to have someone actually eye to eye before a weapon sale, would greatly reduce this struggle of owning weapons for us NORMAL people. I know I may offend some, but until those lazy people who just think about themselves up in the Political World stop and figure out every people stems from a cause, they just ain't gonna get it. The blind squirrel finds a nut every once in awhile, but he finds it alot faster with help. Maybe we should all stand up, and stop and think about banning the rights to purchase guns when you are a politician, or postal worker. If we take away their rights, then we can sit around hear them cry whine and carry on. Heck, wanna own a gun, don't run for office, don't make us out to be people that we really aren't.
In the mean time, don't be silly, wrap ole willy, buy shotguns for home defense and raise cane for what you believe in. Someone somewhere will hear you eventually.

Me

It all started in April back in 1972, when I went to the party with my dad and left with my mom. I never really had a chance to ask questions, but it really got to bothering me and one day I asked my mom what happen, she said, "we ran out of beer at the party, so we had to find other entertainment." Now damn, only if I would have thought about that earlier in life.
I grew up in a small town in Kansas until my dad figured it was time to learn a second language and moved us up to Nebraska, and then we were in a packing plant town. Totally amazing, I can still remember to this day when I was about 8 years old and seen my first colored person, and asked my mom how they stay so tan. Yep, that was me. Never afraid.
The only reason I graduated from High School was because I threatened the Principle and told him he thought I was ornery the last 3 years, wait until he gives me one more. Plus I already had signed up in the Army and he figured get this little bastard out of country. And I did, graduated with about 300 people, on which all knew me, and I knew few. Still to this day I have that problem. I always wanted to make a name for myself. I knew I could move up in the world, especially after being stupid and getting married twice, the second time was my brothers fault, he came and stuck a stick up my ass and called me a sucker. Ya, that was an experience all of it's own. I went from Mr. Right to Mr. Fukinwrong in 24 hours. Didn't know they made a pill for that.
Heck I was a great husband, I worked my ass off so they could stay as materialistic as they wanted, and little did I know, they were sharing the bed with strangers. Always wondered why my pillow smelled like Old Spice and Polo. But, every husband knows, don't ask questions, just shut up and keep on keeping on.
I got me 4 kids and a vasectomy, in which I ain't gonna tell ya which one is my favorite, but, I'm sure you can figure that one out. Speaking of turning bulls into steers, some clown ask me if it changes anything, at first I thought,, then thought again. I said ya, it sure does, have ya ever taken a baby powder container and squeezed it and poof that cloud of powder gets shot in the air like the pictures of an atom bomb going off? It's just like that, poof, it's all over.
One day, I knew if I kept my hopes, pushed, believed in myself, I could one day, move on. Move onto something I always wanted to do, entertain the world with a sense of humor, and have fun doing it. I know deep inside I could rock television, but the way that our kids are going, and us parents buying them video games to preserve their virginity, I also need to become a good voice over for some PS3 games. So, heck, why not, the moral of the story is, you never get younger, and do everything possible to make it where your ex's turn on their TV and have to watch you. Make them think, cuss, swear, want more money from you, and all that neat stuff, while your out explaining how the poof works, and make people love ya for who you are.
If you don't believe in yourself, who's gonna believe in ya? Never be afraid, and dang sure, don't be silly wrap ole willy or one day you yourself will be sitting writing a blog just like this.

Summer Time

It coming about that time of year when flip flops, corns, bunyans, and all the other nice things come out. Not to forget, warmer weather, no frost, panting dogs, and armpit sweat. It's it just lovely to think of summer around the corner? Oh must I forget, Walmart, the time we see daisy dukes on golf ball dimpled legs, Frito toenails, half shirts, and droopy stomachs. And the best time of year, the line up for the fairs. Nothing gets me more excited than the fair coming to town, where else in America can we run down and wait in line to have some toothless Jane or Joe make us a funnel cake?
The weather is getting warmer, incase you haven't noticed, and the days are getting longer, hints to why your ass is being pulled in a wagon behind you every morning. But we as Americans stand up, sweat loud and be proud. Talk about some strange happenings, I was abducted by aliens the other night, oddest thing that ever did happen to me. Thank God they let me go when they found out I didn't speak English.
But on the other hand, living in central Nebraska, not only do we have the County Fair that brings in all the Walmart shopper look-a-likes, we also have the State Fair. That's right, our metropolis, the only place the mayor can get a DUI and stay in office, but the Lt. Governor calls a chick on his phone and gets the boot, we are proud to host such an event. We can attract some of the strangest ducks, from a 60 year old with perfect circular boobs and winkled up like a scrotum on a 90 year old, but wearing that bikini top. God bless us, or help us, either way we are upside down.
Ole Large Marge is straining the grease from last year, and getting her permits ready, charging up her golf cart, and saving money by cutting off the arms on her t-shirts. But, we all know she makes killer fried foods, and we can't wait to lubricate our intestines with her delights. You all know me, I say toss on some strawberries or cherries and call it healthy. Dang skippy. Dig in, grab some paper towels to help stop the grease from running down your elbow, beings we can't lick our elbows, or maybe Celo Green can, humm, that should be on Mythbusters.
But when it starts warming up, don't forget, bathe, mow the yard, do all the honey do crap you have put off all winter, and find a good beach with scenery that is good on a mans eyes. Not looking for the chick that goes in the tanning bed smoking a cig, trying to just put on a front, but I'm talking a sharp dressed swimsuit wearing hottie. And when ya find it, let your balls drop, start off a chat, and then don't be silly wrap ole willy.