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And now (cue the Wild Native music) here is a strange and twisted tale from a strange and twisted mind. Read no farther if you value your sanity. All right, you asked for it.
THE GREAT BOOK SAFARI by Billy Whiskers Part 1
Having spent the better part of a day hunting my shelves and boxes for a book requested by a fellow member of the Paperback Swap (PBS) Club and having recently read some excerpts from Sir Richard Burton's notes on his explorations in search of the source of the Nile River, I decided to keep a journal of my adventures in search of my lost book. I take full resposibility for the travesty that follows.
Day 2
Still hunting the legendary lost book. Crawled under all beds and stuck my head under couches. Very close call when I came face to face with a fierce mouse and my head got stuck. Must remember brush next time. Very difficult to remove dust bunnies from beard. Must go on. Civilization as we know it hangs in the balance. At least as we know it on PBS. Planning a bold foray into darkest attic crawl space. (Hire native guide? )
Day 3
Attic crawl space. Hired native guide. Small hairy creature who offered to work for a DAY-O for an autographed picture of Harry Belafonte and a beautiful-bunch-a- ripe- banana. Strange fellow. Eight legs and numerous eyes.
Several widows with red hour glasses tatooed on stomachs invited me into their parlor. Tempted but must not let myself be distracted from the search.
Saw several tracks. Book has been here but gone now. Native bearers have deserted. The sound of drums is driving me crazy. Last peanut butter sandwich eaten hours ago. Out of water. Flashlight batteries running low. Will put this message in safe place in case I don't get out alive. Tell my dog I love her.
SAY IT ON YOUR TEE SHIRT : http://hoodat-teeshirts-andmore.ecrater.com/
Home sweet home
I was 68 years old when I built this log cabin to live in on my 40 acres in Oklahoma. The only power tool I used was a chain saw to fell the trees. The rest was all done with hand tools. The logs were squared off with the foot adze I am holding in the picture and the logs were then skidded through the woods by a jackass (ME). Some had to be dragged a quarter mile. The only help I had was a friend helping with the two top courses of logs. The wall was too high for me to do it by myself at that point. Everything is fitted together. The only nails are the ones that hold the roofing on. JUST LISTEN TO THAT OL' BOY BRAG. ;-] And look at all the junk he flung out the door. Why I believe that's a real live redneck.
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1 comment:
That was hilarious. Thanks!
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