WE WANT WHAT WE WANT

I was driving through the old neighborhood with my friend Kim last night.
“Hey , you remember the Gibsons Department Store that used to be there?”
“Yeah, what was next to it?”
“Man, I don’t remember. Oh yeah, a Myers 5&10 Store”
“Right, I bought my first record there. A 45 of “Incense and Peppermints”. I was 12 and the Cashier was 16 and she said “Great Song” as she put it in the bag for me and I thought maybe she might want me, like as a lover after that and I would go in there a lot to buy records. After a while, she never said anything about my choices and I lost interest.”

“Probably because you weren’t buying good records” says Kim.
She knows how to hurt a guy.

“No, “Snoopy Vs. The Red Baron” was a classic. So was “A Boy Named Sue” and “Theme from Hawaii 5-0. Maybe I shoulda gone with "The Rain the Park and Other things”.
“Right, Steve” as she rolled her eyes.

Anyway, that was back in the day before Strip Centers and Malls. Gibsons was the early day equivalent of Walmart and it was the only place in town you could go and buy everything from Underwear to Fishin’ poles to Car tires and appliances.

Kim says:
‘Yeah my Dad bought me my first bike there. It was pink, with little pink and white streamers from the handlebars, sparkly wheels, and a decal of Barbie on the frame. It had a little bell you rang with your thumb that went "Ka-ching".

I looked at it and frowned.”
“I hate it” I told my Dad
‘Why honey? He asked.
“Because it doesn’t have a Banana Seat” and I started to cry.
Mama snatched me up and spanked my butt. I tried to cover up with my hands but she was really mad.

Mama said
“Your Daddy worked extra hours to get you that bike, its not Christmas and its not your birthday and you better be glad to have it.

We ain’t exactly the Got-rocks you know.”

So I asked Kim if she ever got to liking that bike.
“No, I still hate it.” She said.

My experience was kinda the same. I saved my money up mowing yards one summer and the day before Dove Hunting Season, Mom took me to Gibsons where I bought a Double-Barreled Shotgun for $60.
I could hardly wait for Dad to get home to see it. It was a big Side-by-Side 12 gauge and had some scroll work on it and I loved the way I might look trudging through a field with it.

Dad got home and at supper I pulled it out.
“Look what I got Dad!”
Dad took one look at it and we loaded up the car and went back to Gibsons where he added $120 to the kitty and we exchanged my Double-Barrel for a 12 Gauge Remington 1100 Semi-Automatic.

It was a major upgrade from a cheap scattergun to a Top-of-the Line Firearm any Sportsman would be proud of.

“There’s what you need boy” and Dad grinned down at me.
All I could do was frown and bite my lip.

God, how I wanted that side-by side 12 gauge Double –Barreled Shotgun.

I still have that Remington Model 1100.

I haven’t fired it in 20 years.

I wouldn’t trade it for all the money in the world, but I might trade it for that big Double-Barrel.

THE CARPET TOO IS MOVING UNDER YOU

Babalougats Dial and I found a body. We were trippin' a little I think, having left the Captains Den. It was on a dirt road off Cheek-Sparger, just before you get to Devils Backbone, before anything was out there but outhouses and jackass rabbits. We come up on it in the middle of the night, all slow like on his motorcycle. His headlight hit it and it looked to be a big ol' boy about 6 foot tall, weighed maybe 250, laying on his side, probably had a .38 to the head, or a shotgun blast to his chest. We looked at each other all wild eyed and crept up slow, shadow from the headlight casting eeerie spells over the woods behind, and I kicked it with my toe, and we skiittered back a little.


"Aw Hell Babalougats, its a just piece of rolled up carpet!"

But then both ends of the carpet started to move. like a scene out of Scooby Doo, me and Bubba clutched each other, wild eyed, shaking in mortal fear The middle of the carpet kind of gave a heave as both ends swelled and a coon ran out of one end and a possum from the other!

"The hell you say!" hollers Bubba and we got back on his motorcycle and flew the fuck as fast as we could back up to the Captains Den.

FULLY CLOTHED WOMEN, DANDELIONS, ECT.

Here is a sampling of images either removed or saved from my Facebook album titled

"Fully Clothed Women"

The Facebook police didn't remove this one.

I don't imagine they knew what they were looking at. 

I call it "The Speed of Light"

They didnt get this one of Deborah Harry either. I guess her breast is just not big enough, and the grill on the Thunderbird was just too shiny.

I knew when I posted this one of Jimi Hendrix that I was way over the edge, but I just couldn't help it. Facebook removed this image.

"Have you ever been experienced?"

They didn't get this one either. I don't know why not. Just that look on her face ought to get her banned from something. My caption for her was

"Stirred Straight Up With a Twist"

"The world was moving she was floating above it and she was"

My albums are not really about naked women. In fact, out of some 1500 images, Facebook only actually removed three. Sure, they missed a few, but the point is that the overwhelming preponderance of evidence suggests that I'm not really a pervert. I just have an eye for beauty and an outstanding sense of humor. One of the things I have found to be very beautiful are images of Dandelions. They are so completely feminine.
Follow this link by clicking here for one posted a while back with another take on dandelions

They didn't get this one yet either.
I'm sure they will be back for it someday. In the meantime...

"If I say its safe to surf this beach, young Captain, it's safe to surf this beach!"

"My cup runneth over"

I'm just throwing this one in because its pretty, and I haven't seen a bobby pin in a long long time. They did not remove it.

Yes, they took this one down. How could they miss it?

My friend Gary says it is a muzzle-load shotgun.

Finally...I really do love dandelions.

"Time works like a damp brush on water color. The sharp edges blur, the ache goes out of it, the colors melt together, and from the many separated lines a solid gray emerges."

- East of Eden, John Steinbeck

From the comments:

Gary: Time actually seems to bring me more aches, not remove them.

Me: Then you havent ached enough yet.

As I gather these images, I am seldom able to identify the photographer, but at this point I should credit some of the sources:

ThisIsntHappiness

TheSweetestSpot

DecapitateAnimals

ResidualRandomtarian

 DivanJaponaise    

THE WONDER OF NATURE

I been watching watching a lot of movies lately, and I looked at Gewels list and tried "Out of Africa.

I really liked this movie and could see that what Gewels liked about it was all the great clothes that Meryl Streep wore while she "had a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills".

I watched it several times.

I imagined Gewels wearing the big Charcoal Blue wool scarf pinned stylishly to her Paisley Turkish Tunic with a HUGE Diamond Brooch while I saved her from Lions and Crocodiles and horny Rhesus Monkeys and stuff with my big Double-barreled Heat-Seeking shotgun, then sitting around the campfire in the African night sipping Chivas Regal while I tell her:

"Animals are more honest than humans. They don't spend all day trying to win and impress a lover...they just say "I like you, you like me, lets get to it"

Then I remove her riding boots and rub her feet.

Man, that Robert Redford really has a way.

DOUBLE POST DOO-DAH DAY

THUMB-BUSTER

I’m thinking about the first gun dad gave me. It weighed almost as much as I did. It was a 1938 model Stevens single shot 12 gauge. Dad said Military Police used it during World War Two, but maybe he was pulling my leg about that. Dad had to cut off a little bit of the stock in order for it to fit where I could pull the trigger.


This old shotgun kicked like a mule. The first time I fired it I think it knocked me back 3 cotton rows. So every time I went to pull the trigger, it was a very conscious decision. I had to have all my feathers on, brace myself, and take a deep breath. After a while I didn’t even close my eyes when I pulled the trigger. Then it was time to reload. A switch released the barrel from the stock, a little mechanism in the barrel would eject the shell. I could pop another shell in, and snap the barrel back into place. But like I said, this gun weighed about the same as I did, and with a 30” barrel came up to my chin if I stood straight up. I reckon I looked like a monkey wrasslin’ a broomstick out there sometimes.


After I got another shell chambered, the real fun would begin. It was time to pull the hammer back. The hammer is what strikes the firing pin when you pull the trigger. Operated by a spring, it took everything I had to pull that hammer back. Some people call these guns with the hammer ‘Thumb-busters” and this SOB was a real thumb-buster for me. I was always afraid when we were out hunting that I would be trying to pull the hammer back and before I could get it all the way back into a locked position, it would slip, the hammer would hit the firing pin, the gun would discharge, and blow my head off. Very embarrassing. That never happened, but for the longest time I was about scared to death to fire it.
That is to say, it had my respect.

Over time I got to be pretty good with that single shot. If a dove was flying towards me, I could get a shot off, break open the barrel, reload and pull the hammer back, and get a second shot off as the dove was going away. Dove were usually pretty safe around me.

Somewhere back about 30 years ago that gun came up missing. Either it was stolen, or maybe I left it behind somewhere when I moved.
I really wish I still had that gun.