FAN FRIDAYS

What would you call a dude who hangs out with his "gang" all the time?

Who had no job!

Who had no visible means of support.

Who was seen with prostitutes, and putting his hands on small children.

Who was wanted by the law.

Who was observed going into a building with something that looked like a weapon in his hand, and terrified the people inside!

Who made alcohol without a permit.

Who practiced medicine without a license.

Who was responsible for the death of a whole herd of livestock. About 2000 animals were lost!

Who claimed he was not from earth.

I WOULD CALL HIM JESUS!
Written by Danny Maness

THOUGHTFUL THURSDAY

Maybe you can help me find what word describes many physical and emotional feelings at once.

I couldn't think of one, so I'll make one up. 
How's about multiplephysicalmotionalfeelingsatdasametom.

Multiplephysicalmotionalfeelingsatdasametom is the word that describes the experience that I had every summer as a kid...

Standing on a big rock and then jumping in to the icy cold water of Big Creek in Sam A. Baker State Park in Missouri.

 I looked for photos of Sam A. Baker Park, and I think this is the actual rock I used to jump off!!!

From 90 degrees and 90% humidity to HOLY POLAR BEAR PLUNGE, ITS FREAKIN" COLD!!

I think the shock would stop my old heart if I tried it today!

However, it was not just the opposite physical feelings I experienced. At that brief moment in time, as I plunged into the paralysingly frigid water, my mind went from St. Louis, school, and all things city...to the pure joy of summer vacation, freedom, fun, and fittin'!

My grandpa lived near Sam A. Baker Park and he would take us to the St. Francis river to go fittin'. 
That's how he pronounced fishin'!

He would make fittin' rod holders from forked branches, and set up about 10 rods and reels on them.

He would give me one of his old cane poles to use.

I didn't mind because my dad hated fishin', and this was the only time I got to go,

My dad always said, "When ya go fishin', all ya come home with is a wet butt and a hungry gut!"
He was right, but I loved it anyway!

Everything was so totally alien and wonderful to a city kid like me.

The dragonflies were so cool and beautiful...like  rainbows in flight, and even though they were pretty huge for insects, they were harmless.

I loved the tumble bugs on the river bank, rolling up balls of manure. 

Like circus performers!

The calls of the whippoorwills and bobwhites.

whip·poor·will 

n.

An insect-eating nocturnal North American bird (Caprimulgus vociferus) of the goatsucker family, having spotted brown feathers that blend with its woodland habitat. (Goatsucker?)

Bobwhites are relatively small ground dwelling gallinaceous (chicken-like) birds. Adults stand six to seven inches (24-27 cm) in height and typically weigh about six to seven ounces. Their name derives from their distinctive whistle ("bobwhite").

 You know how some dudes are a chick magnet?

Well, I was a tick magnet!

There are billions of ticks in the Ozark mountains of Missouri, and they loved me!

Mom always checked everyone for ticks and I would usually have two or three on me.

Now, you have to be careful not to leave the head of a tick under your skin or you'll turn into a zombie or something.

So mom would  take one of her Pall Mall cigarettes, and hold the lit end near the tick.

The tick couldn't stand the heat, and would back out, where mom could squish it with her 3 inch long fingernails.

However, I liked my grandpa's way better.

He would put a drop of horse liniment on the tick, and that tick would "skeedattle" like crazy until grandpa squished it with the flat part of his pocket knife blade.

I almost forgot to tell you about the really gross tick thing!

Grandpa's dogs would get ticks on them that swelled up as big as big marbles, REALLY big marbles!

I didn't want to go anywhere near those grotesque creatures, but grandpa pulled them off the dogs very nonchalantly.

He loved his dogs more than he loved people.

Please, don't be mad at me, but I'm including a song I've featured on this blog before, because it goes so well with the story!

It has such a down home country feel to it, and I think you'll like it....again:

OUT OF THIS WORLD WEDNESDAY

If you have been reading my blog for eons of time, like most life forms throughout the many vast universes that float in the vast reaches of a cat's collar ornament...

(Yes! There ARE multiple universes!)

...you will already know about the alien race of tiny, but brilliant creatures that have secretly helped earth people since the time of Christ.

THE GLIRKAZOIDS!!

It's kind of funny that when I write about my lovable little Glirkazoid friends, my readership goes way down.

Here are some of the reasons I think this happens:

1. Some folks are not fond of U.F.O./ alien stuff.

2. Some people are AFRAID of U.F.O./ alien stuff.

3. A lot of you don't believe in U.F.O./alien stuff.

4. You ALL think I'm a lunatic.
5. Some of you are RACISTS!

Some of you are racists seems to be the most logical conclusion, because Glirkazoids have been subject to racial discrimination throughout the planetary systems, galaxies, various dimensions, and universes, for eons of time!
(Wait, I think I already used eons...how's about milleniums of time)

Yeah, that's the ticket...MILLENIUMS!
(A millenium is a period of a thousand years, for those of you from Goofy Ridge)

Remember what Martian Luther King Jr. said? Hmmm?

That life forms should not "be judged by the color of their skin, but by the the content of their character."

As many of you already know, Glirkazoids display an array of many dazzling, neon colors that change from one color to the next in rapid succession. 

KIND OF LIKE THIS!

Some creatures hate the Glirkazoids for that! 

They think everyone should be just one color, and not confusing others with the constant changes!

You probably heard about the mass torture and slavery of Glirkazoids on the planet Confedera C... all because the Glirkazoids were "COLORED," as the Confederites called them in their ignorant, bigoted manner, and it took an inter planetary civil war, to free the beautiful creatures from bondage!

Maybe you saw the news headlines where Glirkazoids were forced to sit at the back of the "flying zoomers" on Alabamus X...until the brave and iconic Glirkazoid, Posa Zarks, defied the wicked law, and led the way for all Glirkazoids to to ride proudly on the "cull shield!"

I have heard people claim the Glirkazoids smell differently, and eat unusual foods like watermetron and fried chickabetas.

Well, for your information...
Glirakazoids DO smell differently...And they smell WAY better than all those prejudiced hypocrites!

In addition, don't we ALL love watermetron and fried chickabetas? HMMM?

Sometimes I think these closed minded twerps are just jealous of the Glirkazoids, because the little critters  have rhythm and can dance their tiny pharters off!

Here is one classic example:

But let's get back to the content of their character, shall we?

Although these poor mistreated, persecuted little aliens have been "put down" for all these 

"karpects" of time, they have gone out of their way to bring culture, inventions, music, Mad Magazine, Monty Python's Flying Circus, the Beatles, and things we take for granted every day to us pathetic earthlings, because their character has real content, and true grit! (They are responsible for that movie, too...I love the part where John Wayne puts the reins in his teeth and...just watch!

So I really don't give a rat's rear end if some of you don't love the Glirkazoids like I do!

I've been writing about them since "Hector was a pup," and I'll keep writing about them "until the cows come home!"

The Glirkazoids love our quaint old sayings!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DONNA!!!

Donna, it's your birthday,

I love you more than ever,

Now I hope that I can write,

A poem for you that's clever.

That's really all I have to give,

I wish I had the money,

To buy you things that you deserve,

Like gold and diamonds, honey.

Every year I'm with you,

You grow more beautiful,

To my eyes and to my heart,

I'm still a love struck fool.

I hope that on your birthday,

Maybe in a year or 10,

We can take a trip to some place nice,

Somewhere we've never been.

We might travel down to Key West,

Or north for cooler weather,

It really doesn't matter,

If we are both together.

I love you on your birthday,

I love you every day,

And every single morning,

I bow my head and pray,

And thank God for the wondrous gift,

He's given me in you,

And Donna, my beloved,

I'm so glad you said "I do!"

This is the song Elvis sang at the birthday party in Blue Hawaii

PHOTO OF BREANNA TAKEN TODAY

Breanna is still in the hospital receiving aggressive treatment for her Cystic Fibrosis.

When she has good days people will look at her and think she is doing fine.

She plays, laughs, and says funny, adorable things because she is a tough little girl who makes the most of her condition.

The reality is, if she did not have her medicine, and therapy, she would not be alive.

The cost for all of this is astronomical, and insurance only pays so much.

Breanna's daddy, Matt, is an Iraq war veteran and is still in the military.

Ashley, Breanna's mommy, is going through nursing school and just completed her phlebotomy training at the top of her class.

They are overwhelmed with medical expenses to the point their home is in jeopardy of going into foreclosure.

If you want to find out how you can help, contact Ashley at:

ashes84032000@yahoo.com
or

breheeren@gmail.com

If you have trouble with these links, just copy and paste them to your email account.

There is also an account for Breanna at Regions Bank in East Peoria, Illinois.

Regions Bank
300 East Washington Street
East Peoria, Illinois 61611

Checks can be made out to Breanna Heeren in care of Ashley Heeren.

I wrote this song for Breanna when she was two, and now she is five with time running out.

ashes84032000@yahoo.com

ST. LOUIS SUNDAY

St. Louis Sunday...a funday?

Sometimes yes and sometimes no,

It's according to where you go,

To the "Hill" can be exciting,

Unless the Mafia families are fighting.

Shaw's Garden or the Jewel Box?

At neither one you'll find a "fox!"

A "fox" you want?

 Just drive your scooters,

To a lovely place called Hooters!

However, they won't let you touch,

So, to the Zoo we love so much,

With milk and a generic Twinky,

We hope the fauna aren't too stinky!

It would be a crying shame,

If you didn't  watch a baseball game,

At Busch Stadium, the cool ball park,

Stay in the lighted areas after dark!

The highways, you will quickly learn,

Can make you take a wrong way turn,

And in EAST St. Louis you will be,

Across the mighty Mississippi,

Stay in your car, now, don't get out,

Just find yourself another route,

Ask no questions, turn around,

And get back to St. Louis town.

There R places you can get FREE BEER,

They are so very near and dear,

To all beer lovers who love the charm,

Of the Busweiser tour, and great Grant's Farm!

The St. Louis Arch is a real must.

It's stainless steel, 

So it don't rust,

My brother Dave, he welded it,

So you can ride to the top,

 and see lot's of "sh..!"

BURMA SHAVE

SATURDAY MORNING POST

TORNADOES STRIKE AMERICA'S HEARTLAND...SOMETHING THAT HAS NEVER, EVER HAPPENED BEFORE

OBAMA LIES...A FIRST FOR THIS TRUSTED PRESIDENT

MADONNA EXPOSES HERSELF IN PUBLIC...TO THE SHOCK AND SURPRISE OF HER DEVOTED FANS

PEOPLE LIVING A FEW FEET FROM RIVERS ARE MYSTIFIED WHEN THEIR HOMES ARE FLOODED...AGAIN

SMOKERS DISCOVER THEY ARE LOSING THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS A YEAR , AND CANNOT FIGURE OUT WHY

PEOPLE WHO BELIEVED THEY WOULD LIVE FOREVER MYSTERIOUSLY DIE WITHOUT PRIOR NOTICE

MAN WHO ENTERS FENCED IN AREA WITH VICIOUS PACK OF SNARLING PIT BULLS IS BITTEN REAL BAD

100 YEAR OLD BILLIONAIRE BAFFLED WHEN HIS TRUSTED BEVY OF BODACIOUS BEAUTIES BEG HIM FOR BUCKS 

YORKIE BARKS AT EVERYTHING THAT MOVES... ALL DAY LONG

FAMOUS AUTHOR/PHOTO JOURNALIST, MARTY WOMBACHER, STUNS THE WORLD BY DRINKING  A BEER

CIA/FBI INVESTIGATION DISCOVERS THAT CHERYL MERRITT, AKA YELLOW ROSE OF TEXAS, TALKS WITH A CUTE TEXAS DRAWL