"Hey, man! I said 'hold my beer,' not 'drink it.' Damn, son."
One of the pleasures of country living, at least here in Alabama, is the burn pile. Brush, scrap wood, cardboard, nasty ol' blankets, mattresses and carcasses they won't take at the dump... once it gets hot enough, almost anything'll burn. Add a balmy night and a cold beer for a passing hobo and you got a right pleasant way to pass an hour or two.
We can't sing a cappella worth a durn. That takes specific practice, some talent, and passing familiarity with a pitch pipe. "Make a joyful noise" is kind of a dodge. We're Methodists, for Pete's sa
There's a family gathering out in Houston this evening to remember and celebrate the life of a man I knew well. He was my first cousin. He died of a violent attack. His son sits in jail awaiting tr
My better half & me, at her rental house near nerve-gas central, totin' post hole diggers and pressure-treated 4x4 posts and bags of quick-setting concrete, fixin' to do a cheapskate fix on a problem
