It's a small town so it isn't so bad. But that time he had to kill a couple of hours before picking me up from work, and he drove 50 miles to and from home to get a coke out of the fridge because the ones at the store were too expensive... lol oh boy.
It's a small town so it isn't so bad. But that time he had to kill a couple of hours before picking me up from work, and he drove 50 miles to and from home to get a coke out of the fridge because the ones at the store were too expensive... lol oh boy.
whenever i hear songs or see commercials about lunch meat i think about red dragon
what does that even mean? suggestions welcome!
Step away from the baloney? Open season on cold cuts? Pimp your pickle loaf? Pass on the processed turkey? A little mustard makes nasty less nasty? Sheesh kablobs?
The only two things I've ever won in a drawing or contest was a trip to a music festival in San Francisco and a small wet/dry vac. I just love juxtapositional poetry...
So when I was 12 or 13 and a serious Baltimore Colts fan playing tackle football with neighborhood boys in my front yard I went head first John Mackey into a tree and wound up with a ball of contusion and pain on top of my head. It was funny to everyone but me. I'll bet John Mackey gave out contusions 10 to 1. Guys hanging all on him trying to drag him down. Like hungry lions hanging off a water buffalo. That's how I remember him on our black and white TV Sunday three channels; two with football. One hopefully with the Colts.
Did I say I loved the Baltimore Colts?
Anyhow my Mom flipped out at the cartoon lump on top of my head. And, to add insult to injury, I'm sure that tree wasn't shaken at all. I paid with pain for the love of the game. Yeah. That's it.
Man that Jets win hurt. Bad. Damn you Broadway Joe...
I worked on a Sears catalogue fulfillment loading dock during the Christmas season of '71 '72. I remember because I saw Alice Cooper on the Killer tour that year.. Just a few rows back. Free was the opener. He was noosed. Later he opted for the guillotine. Hearing Desperado live like that was pretty awe inspiring for a 16 yo.
I got fired from that job for racing forklifts. What a dumbass...
Forklifts are so much freakin' fun though! Especially the kind that grab and rotate and stuff. We had a cat 980 with forks on it that could pick up a dozen flattened cars. Picking up cars and tossing them around is a gas, daddy-o. Big toys for little boys. Playing in the scrapyard.
What about the ones that have big squeezers on them. Ain't no joke.
I worked on a Sears catalogue fulfillment loading dock during the Christmas season of '71 '72. I remember because I saw Alice Cooper on the Killer tour that year.. Just a few rows back. Free was the opener. He was noosed. Later he opted for the guillotine. Hearing Desperado live like that was pretty awe inspiring for a 16 yo.
I got fired from that job for racing forklifts. What a dumbass...
Forklifts are so much freakin' fun though! Especially the kind that grab and rotate and stuff. We had a cat 980 with forks on it that could pick up a dozen flattened cars. Picking up cars and tossing them around is a gas, daddy-o. Big toys for little boys. Playing in the scrapyard.
I worked on a Sears catalogue fulfillment loading dock during the Christmas season of '71 '72. I remember because I saw Alice Cooper on the Killer tour that year.. Just a few rows back. He was noosed. Later he opted for the guillotine. Hearing Desperado live like that was pretty awe inspiring for a 16 yo.
I got fired from that job for racing forklifts. What a dumbass...
I also remember at 3 or 4 years old taking a blanket and lying on the forced-air duct in the floor. Waiting...and waiting...for the glorious moment when the heat would come on.
My mother was raised in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, and my Grandparents' house had large holes in the ceilings/floors to allow for heat to rise. Still waiting.
I have very similar experiences with both accounts...
...its a book that my Father had and that I read many times as a boy. My Father told me of the winter time, and that old house they lived in. It was a worn out old small-town Victorian built 80 years earlier with one of those porches that wrapped all the way around and an integral kitchen off the back where it would get so cold that the water bucket would freeze if more than 3 feet from the wood burning cook stove.
My pop said his bedroom was on the fireplace wall but that's about it for the heat. He spent a lot of time reading his whole life.
I shiver to think of that level of poverty, being spared of it by a good man.
Still, I guess I grew up with my own version, and in the bed at night under the quilt my grandmother made and with a flashlight and my mom's portable hair dryer for heat, I read that book over and over.
The hair dryer was one of those things in a little suitcase with a hose and a bonnet. It blew nice warm heat and when you restricted air from going in the intake the thing glowed red hot.
Fortunately I never fell asleep with it running...
Been there, done that. I have no idea why.
I also remember at 3 or 4 years old taking a blanket and lying on the forced-air duct in the floor. Waiting...and waiting...for the glorious moment when the heat would come on.
My mother was raised in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, and my Grandparents' house had large holes in the ceilings/floors to allow for heat to rise. Still waiting.
...its a book that my Father had and that I read many times as a boy. My Father told me of the winter time, and that old house they lived in. It was a worn out old small-town Victorian built 80 years earlier with one of those porches that wrapped all the way around and an integral kitchen off the back where it would get so cold that the water bucket would freeze if more than 3 feet from the wood burning cook stove.
My pop said his bedroom was on the fireplace wall but that's about it for the heat. He spent a lot of time reading his whole life.
I shiver to think of that level of poverty, being spared of it by a good man.
Still, I guess I grew up with my own version, and in the bed at night under the quilt my grandmother made and with a flashlight and my mom's portable hair dryer for heat, I read that book over and over.
The hair dryer was one of those things in a little suitcase with a hose and a bonnet. It blew nice warm heat and when you restricted air from going in the intake the thing glowed red hot.
Fortunately I never fell asleep with it running...
