Hobo Jungle
Nah, I'm not buyin' any more Labatts for now. I've got another Canadian fishing trip scheduled over Labor Day for a week up at www.island10 and I'll indulge myself then. I'd hate to be tired of a beer, so in the meantime I'll grab something different. I've been tempted to grab a 30 of Rolling Rock just to see if Anheuser Busch screwed it up. Still wonderin' how they pipe that mountain spring water to Newark.
If you agree with the Progressives, it's freedom of speech. If you disagree, it's hate speech. There are no alternatives.
Detective Will Rothfuss was in his office studying the light from his one small window falling on his super burrito when the door swung open to reveal a woman whose body said you've had your last burrito for a while, whose face said angels did exist, and whose eyes said she could make you dig your own grave and lick the shovel clean.
Years of acting as the bad cop in interrogations of hobos and shopping cart thieves caused the wily old dick to launch into a line of inquiry:
"If you like Piña Coladas,
And getting caught in the rain
If you're not into yoga,
If you have half-a-brain "
San
The dame slowly slid her skirt up her Betty Grable legs to reveal the cold blue tip of a rod she had strapped to a creamy thigh. Little did she know, Will had his own rod firmly in hand, under the desk.
She growled "Your damn whiskey is staring at me. What's up with that?"
Will slowly reached out to the drink, plucked out his glass eye, popped it back into his socket, took a long slow slug of the Jack, and slid the glass toward the dame.
She growled "Your damn whiskey is staring at me. What's up with that?"
Will slowly reached out to the drink, plucked out his glass eye, popped it back into his socket, took a long slow slug of the Jack, and slid the glass toward the dame.
Been parched around here. I took a mattock to dirt yesterday to dig out a fence stake, and the ground was bone-dry 10 inches deep. Then we had a gorgeous late afternoon rain yesterday. Couldn't help but stand at an open door and suck in the sweet smell.
This morning, a long low line of fog over the creek filled the valley below us. Here's a couple of shots as the sun lifted the fog and sent it sifting up through the trees.
One of those mornings that make you glad to be alive!
Even if you are nothin' but a damn hobo. 
This morning, a long low line of fog over the creek filled the valley below us. Here's a couple of shots as the sun lifted the fog and sent it sifting up through the trees.
One of those mornings that make you glad to be alive!
Even if you are nothin' but a damn hobo. 
Dirt, there's nothing loftier than a hobo, except maybe a hobo standing on a boxcar, but they took off (away) the roof walks years ago just to prevent that kind of thing.
Jon, looks as if the Stoner is at it again.
Anyone else have perfect weather? Of course perfect is a rather uneven term when referring to weather, isn't it? But I think everyone (all hobos) knows what I mean. It's also been called beer drinking weather.
Jon, looks as if the Stoner is at it again.
Anyone else have perfect weather? Of course perfect is a rather uneven term when referring to weather, isn't it? But I think everyone (all hobos) knows what I mean. It's also been called beer drinking weather.
Last edited by Tramp on Sat Jul 14, 2007 5:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
That a life will be spent gaining inches,
When this distance is read in miles.
When this distance is read in miles.
Return to “The Club Car Lounge”
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: Google [Bot] and 159 guests