Wednesday, December 31, 2008


Okay, it's New Years Eve, I've been home for 2 1/2 hours, I'm not even close to being as fucked up as I'd planned, I'm watching TV and thinking about going to bed in an hour or so. What the hell is wrong with me?
Oh yeah. I'm old.

Poor baby

It's true. I am a knuckledragger

We had a boss a few years back we called Happy Jack because he wasn't. This guy had a biker's attitude with an accountant's body and had a fairly good sense of humor.
One day I caught my buddy Rick near Happy Jack's office and said "C'mon, let's go fuck with Jack."
We headed up the stairs and when I opened the door, Jack was at his desk doing paperwork.
"Hey Jack, you ever fuck a goat before?"
He didn't even look up. "Maybe one time when I was drunk."

I turned to Rick when we left and said "Isn't it cool that we can go up to the big boss and ask if he'd ever fucked a goat?"
Rick said "Have you ever worked anywhere that you COULDN'T ask your boss that?"

Why you should remove your boresighter before you shoot your new rifle

Hey, it's New Years Eve

Don't know how my postings are going to be tonight - I plan on getting seriously fucked up.
I'm talking tore up from the floor up. Roasted and toasted. Tits up. Blind.
Ya'll have fun....

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Bacon. Mmmmm, bacon.....

Fuck the L and T, just gimme a bacon sandwich

Gotta be California (again)

Oh yeah. She's pissed.

Let's see your Tom-Tom figure this one out

It's a guy thing....

Better than I (heart) San Quentin

Things I'm gonna do this year

1) Take a road trip down to El Paso by way of Ft Sumner and Lincoln County, New Mexico then loop back up to Amarillo, TX.
2) Check into getting a pilot's license.
3) Beat my personal best record for BAT.
4) Start hunting again
5) Kill the Evil Cats
6) Get my GED
7) Do some serious backpacking
8) Get back into ghost-towning

Monday, December 29, 2008

Oh, HELL NO!!!!!!

I got into fly fishing this past year, that is until I got the 2009 Cabella's fly fishing catalogue today.
I opened it up to their "Flyrod" category and saw a rod priced at $750.
Sheeeet, I only paid $750 and a quarter pound of weed for my first car!

Straight up White Trash, God bless 'em

If you don't buy my lemonade, I'm gonna let you run me over and then my Daddy's gonna sue the dogshit out of you

Click to enlarge

Gotta be California (again)

I'm pretty sure this is a single man's bathroom

What a way to start the day

I used to have a dog that loved to have ass scratched, and he wasn't a bit bashful about it, either. He would back up up to you looking over his shoulder with this look of pure lust on his face. It looked perverted as hell, I got to admit.
One night I had gone out drinking tequila and Jack and beer and God only knows what else, and even before I woke up I knew I was horribly hung over, oh Lord I hurt, I was sick sick sick, somebody please kill me in my sleep and spare me the misery of waking up.
I had passed out on the couch, half undressed. In my semi-conscience state, I began to stir, waking up Captain, who usually woke up in a pretty agreeable mood and liked to start his day with a petting or ear-scratching. This time instead of coming over to get his ears scratched, he starts backing up to me to get his ass scratched. I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was this big ol' brown-eye staring me right in the face from about 6 inches away. Then he farted, and with that single gaseous emission he put me down for an entire day. That is what saved his worthless ass, so he can be thankful for that. I was just too sick to run him down and beat him to death and too hung over to shoot him.


About 20 years ago, I was on my way home from the hills one day by myself. I would travel down Warnerville, Rock River or Cooperstown Roads as much as possible to avoid Oakdale and highway traffic. You might see one car all day long on these dirt roads. They were wonderful.
Anyways, I was hooking it up down Rock River and way off in the distance I could see a ground squirrel up on a fencepost on the right hand side of the road watching the world go by. I pull up across the road and stop, waiting for it to freak out and haul ass, but it doesn't. It just sits there, staring at me. Well, we can't be havin' none of that shit, can we? So I picked up my 41 magnum off the front seat and shooting through the open passenger window, I blew that little sucker clean off the fence post, destroying him in the process. I mean I shot a ground squirrel with a 220 grain bullet. The bullet probably weighed more than the target did.
I got to admit shooting that magnum handgun in the inside of my truck probably wasn’t one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. I had a headache for a solid week and my ears still haven’t fully recovered.


Dave was kicking back in his trailer one night watching T.V. and he reaches over and picks up this unloaded Single Action 357 that was laying on the table next to his bed. As he thumbs back the hammer of the pistol, he points it between his feet at his T.V. set.
Thinking better of it, he points the gun up and snaps the trigger blowing a jagged hole in the ceiling of his trailer. Guess that pistol was loaded after all.

For Ramon

The house I lived in out on Claus road was on the highest piece of ground on the property, so when they irrigated every 18 days, the house would be overrun with mice. While it was semi-creepy, it made for some great shooting.
I had my couch on one wall and my T.V., stereo, and dogfood dish against the cabinet and built-in bookshelf that made up the other wall. At night, I would lay on the couch with my pellet pistol propped up on my leg. Pretty soon, I'd see a brown flash zip into Caps' food dish. Then it was just a waiting game, because they'd eat their fill, stuff their cheeks full, and stick their heads up over the edge of the bowl to make sure the coast was clear. That's when I'd blast the cute little buggers.
But wait! There was a couple of catches. Number one, I only had about a half a second to shoot, and number two, it had to be a head shot. If I hit the little sucker anywhere but the head, they'd go into the walls to die, I don't care how hard they were hit. On a good night I could get 20-30 mice. I had a piece of plywood tacked to the cabinet behind the food dish as a backstop, but 2 or 3 times a night, I would get a running shot at a mouse along another wall. Sometimes I connected, sometimes I missed. I also wasn't above snapping off 6 shots with a 22 pistol at a mouse hooking it up across the middle of the floor. Needless to say, that house was so full of bullet holes after 6 years, if you backed into it with a car it would have fallen over.
After I got raided and had to move, it took me and Dave 24 solid hours to patch all the bullet holes, replace all the baseboards in the living room (they were shot to pieces) and paint. What really pissed me off was that they bulldozed the place after I moved into Dave's place. All that work for nothing.
I never really had a mouse problem in my little brown shack for the first couple of years that I lived there. Then I got a hair up my ass and killed the nest of rattlesnakes that lived underneath the house. What in the world was I thinking?

Sunday, December 28, 2008

Boys will be boys

Headlines for the year 2034

Ozone created by electric cars now killing millions in the seventh largest country in the world, Mexifornia, formerly known as California.
White minorities still trying to have English recognized as Mexifornia's third language.
Spotted Owl plague threatens northwestern United States crops and livestock.
Baby conceived naturally! Scientists stumped.
Couple petitions court to reinstate heterosexual marriage.
Iran still closed off; physicists estimate it will take at least 10 more years before radioactivity decreases to safe levels.
France pleads for global help after being taken over by Jamaica . No other country comes forward to help the beleaguered nation!
Castro finally dies at age 112; Cuban cigars can now be imported legally, but President Chelsea Clinton has banned all smoking.
George Z. Bush says he will run for President in 2036.
Postal Service raises price of first class stamp to $17.89 and reduces mail delivery to Wednesdays only.
85-year $75.8 billion study: Diet and exercise is the key to weight loss.
Average weight of Americans drops to 250 lbs.
Global cooling blamed for citrus crop failure for third consecutive year in Mexifornia and Floruba.
Japanese scientists have created a camera with such a fast shutter speed they now can photograph a woman with her mouth shut.
Abortion clinics now available in every High School in United States .
Senate still blocking drilling in ANWR even though gas is selling for 4532 Pesos per liter and gas stations are only open on Tuesdays and Fridays.
Massachusetts executes last remaining conservative.
Supreme Court rules punishment of criminals violates their civil rights.
Average height of NBA players is now nine feet, seven inches with only 3 illegitimate children.
New federal law requires that all nail clippers, screwdrivers, fly swatters and rolled-up newspapers must be registered by January 2035.
IRS sets lowest tax rate at 75 percent.
Floruba voters still having trouble with voting machines.

Straight up White Trash, God bless 'em

Sorry, I spend all my spare change on bills and food

Quit your sniveling

Summer, 1985

Dave bet me a beer that I couldn't hit at least one mudhen out of this bunch of about 20 or so that was bobbing around a couple of hundred yards away from his trailer using only 5 shots from my 22 pistol.
Sucker, I thought, grabbing my H&R 999. I sat in my lawn chair next to Dave and drew a bead on the flock of soon to be freaked out birds. I knew the first shot might be low, and I intended to walk the shots quickly into the flock.
"Ouch," Dave said at my first shot.
"Aw, shut up, ya pussy" I said as I thumbed off my second shot.
"Motherfucker, you shoot me again, and I'm gonna kick your ass!" Dave yelled at me.
I looked at his arm and there was blood running all over the place. He also had two great big chunks of lead in his arm. I thought he’d been sniveling about the powder flash from the cylinder/barrel gap. I didn't know that the pistol had jumped time (H&R 999s are notorious for that) and every time I pulled the trigger, I sent half the bullet out the barrel, and the other half into Dave.
He said he could understand me shooting him once, but twice was pure meanness.


Dave, my best buddy from back in the 80s, had a strict rule at his house:
No Gunfire Inside The House.
What a puss.

The demise of Ranger Bob

The snow gates are what blocks the road over Sonora Pass during the winter months. The road is too steep, narrow and winding to plow, so after the first snow they just close the road.
Me and Dave were always waiting for Ranger Bob to open the gates so we could be the first ones over the pass.

We had heard that the snow gates at Kennedy Meadows were supposed to be unlocked at 8:00 a.m. on Mother's Day, 1987. I knew Mom wouldn't understand, so I lied and said I had to work that day.
Anyways, we were there at 8:00 sharp. We was the only ones there, too. Ranger Bob was nowhere to be seen. By 8:30, we were making plans to shoot Ranger Bob. By 8:45, those plans began to include his close family members. At 9:00, we decided to blow up the ranger station too. At 9:05, I said "To hell with it, I'll open those fucking gates my own self." I hauled out my Ruger 41 and headed for the gates.
"Wait a few more minutes," Dave said, grabbing my arm. He no sooner says that, and Ranger Bob's pickup rounds the bend. Talk about a close call.

May of 88 found us up at the snow gates above Kennedy Meadows once again planning Ranger Bob's demise when he finally decides to show up. Climbing out of his Rangermobile with the keys to the gates, he asks, "Don't I know you guys from somewhere?"

It was April of 1989, and we were at the snow gates at Kennedy Meadows, staring at them in amazement. They weren't supposed to open until 8:00, but they were already open and it wasn't even 7:15 yet.
We agreed that somebody less tolerant than ourselves had finally had enough of Ranger Bob's tardiness and killed his worthless ass. His replacement was a more conscientious fellow judging by the fact that the gate was open at least 2 hours earlier than Ranger Bob would have opened it.

World's shortest fairy tale

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl "Will you marry me?"
The girl said, "NO!"
And the guy lived happily ever after and rode motorcycles and went fishing and hunting and shot his guns a lot and drank beer and scotch and left the toilet seat up and farted whenever he wanted.

Don't you just love a happy ending?

Never lie to your parents

Brian invited his mother over for dinner. During the course of the meal, Brian's mother couldn't help but notice how beautiful Brian's roommate, Jennifer, was. Brian's Mom had long been suspicious of a relationship between Brian and Jennifer, and this had only made her more curious.
Over the course of the evening, while watching the two interact, she started to wonder if there was more between Brian and Jennifer than met the eye. Reading his mom's thoughts, Brian volunteered, 'I know what you must be thinking, but I assure you Jennifer and I are just roommates.'
About a week later, Jennifer came to Brian saying, 'Ever since your mother came to dinner, I've been unable to find thebeautiful silver gravy ladle. You don't suppose she took it, do you?'
Brian said, 'Well, I doubt it, but I'll send her an e-mail just to be sure.
So he sat down and wrote: Dear Mom, I'm not saying that you 'did' take the gravy ladle from the house, I'm not saying that you 'did not' take the gravy ladle. But the fact remains that one has been missing ever since you were here for dinner. Love, Brian
Several days later, Brian received an email back from his mother that read: Dear Son, I'm not saying that you 'do' sleep with Jennifer, I'm not saying that you 'do not' sleep with Jennifer. But the fact remains that if Jennifer is sleeping in her own bed, she would have found the gravy ladle by now.
Love, Mom

Ass-kicking, Life-saving, wonderful coffee

Gotta be California (again)

I have GOT to get some yard work done...

Bacon. Mmmmm, bacon.....

Bacon chunks topping a cake......

Fuck it, it's Sunday

Boat launching gone bad


Saturday, December 27, 2008

Well, shit

No BATs today and damned few fish of any size. I caught a total of three and two of those were so small they would be considered bait if I was bass fishing. No kidding, they were 8 inches long.
The largest and last one I caught was 14 inches, so Dad caught the biggest fish today. His 3 were all larger than my my biggest, but not by much.
I could make all kinds of excuses why we didn't do shit like weather fronts, the lake rising one foot, or the spawn was early this year (all of which are true), but it doesn't make a bit of difference.
I'm tired, cold and hungry, so I'll try to post more later.

Friday, December 26, 2008

Gotta be California (again)

Bacon. Mmmmm, bacon.....

From George - Markleeville, CA

You still run lions? I remember you bought my best hound off me back in 1985.
Let's set a date sometime.

You bet. Save a hunt for me in the spring. Good to hear from you.

A favor for me, please?

Me and Dad are going back up tomorrow to try for Big-Ass Trout.
I've caught BATs before, but my dad hasn't. Sure, he's caught some steelhead that would make my BATs look like bait, but that was years ago and they weren't pure freshwater fish.
Would y'all be kind enough to offer up a prayer or think positive thoughts that Dad not only catches the biggest fish tomorrow but that it'll be a fish that he'll remember?
He doesn't have a lot of years left and I want to give him something that he'll remember. I mean hell, I've already got the taxidermist lined up with the promise that he'll have the mount ready by his 69th birthday in mid-March. I know the memory of the catch would be enough, but I want something for him that he can brag on when folks see that trophy fish on his living room wall.
Do this for me please?

Deb, I will NEVER forgive you for this

Well, here I am in my fancy lounging britches that I got for Christmas and Deb just had to see.
If there aren't any posts for a while, it's because one of my friends saw this and I was delivered a serious ass-whipping for being a sissy.
God, I can just imagine the comments on this post.....

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Franklin and Santa

My bud Brian's boy. Brian's a winner and Franklin will be too.
Thanks, Brian.

My day

I had a good Christmas today. Hell it would've been a good day even if it wasn't Christmas.
I rolled my butt out of the rack at 4 AM, grabbed my trappins and headed for the lake in search of the elusive Big Ass Trout. I knew it was going to be rough when I threw my cooler in the back of the truck and it hit with a splash instead of a thud. No big deal, I've been wet before.
What I didn't count on was the wind. A cold wind. An ass numbing wind, even with long johns, insulated bibs and rain gear.
When I finally got there it was still dark and the wind was just howling across the water. I'm not joking when it was howling, there were 3 foot whitecaps when dawn broke.
I tied on a spinner and headed down to my favorite spot. It was so windy that when I cast, my lure landed at my feet. Hmmm, this was going to take a little timing on my part, so when the wind would die down for a moment (and I do mean a moment), I'd cast, retrieve, then wait for it do die down again.
I caught 6 fish over 4 hours although none were what I would call BATs. The smallest was about 15 inches and 2 1/2 pounds, 4 were right at 18 inches and 3 pounds, and the biggest was 22 inches and might've gone a tad over 4 pounds. All were hooked cleanly and released for me to catch next year.
I got back home and showered, then went to Mom & Dad's for some dinner. Mom always puts on a good feed for Christmas and this year was no exception. Wild Boar tenderloins, ham, chops, thick cut bacon (Bacon. Mmmmm, bacon) for me, venison steaks, potato salad, macaroni salad, finger foods, fruit salads and about 5 different pies.
Even though I asked them as I have for the past 25 years to skip getting me gifts and spend their money on their grandbabies, Dad handed me a box. Inside was a balaclava, some thick wool socks and silk liners to keep my footses warm when I'm freezing my ass off fishing, and some cotton PJ bottoms.
PJs? I gave Dad that WTF look while hugging Mom. Shit, I haven't worn jammies since.... Hell, I ain't never worn PJs. Dad told me to shut the fuck up, they were "lounging" pants to wear when I was relaxing around the house.
That's what I got my cammo pants for, but I got 'em home, washed 'em and yes, I'll admit I'm wearing them now and I'll be damned if they don't feel surprisingly fine.
I ain't answering the door in them though.

Man's best friend

Who is your real friend?
Your dog.
If you don't believe it, just try this experiment:
Put your dog and your spouse in the trunk of the car for an hour.
When you open the trunk, who is really happy to see you??

Thanks, Brian

Straight up White Trash, God bless 'em


Cutie Pie

She can cook too?????

Gotta be California (again)

When ya gotta go, ya gotta go

For Deb

Boys will be boys

White trash car alarm

Air conditioning the hard way