Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Billy Jim McGraw

Well now just the other day ole' Billy Jim McGraw was out thar workin' over the back forty mendin' up some fencepost what done got bustid up by a gaggle a wild turkey what gone nuts over some noise they heard...and lo and behold here come some young feller wanderin' down ole' Tucker Road, lookin rough, like he done saw the ghost of Conway Twitty.

Now this here feller done wandered over to ole' Billy Jim and said, " 'scuse me kindly sir, but I'm in a bad way and could surely use a quick draw of water from yer well if'ns yew wouldn't mind."  Now Billy Jim ain't the kind uh feller what's prone to givin out his water, whut since he done did have to pull it up outa' that thar well of his each n' every day...but this here feller looked a might parched, and them thar vultures did seem to be takin a real shine to this here feller on account of him lookin' like he might drop dead at any moment...and Billy Jim done felt sorry for this here feller...so he threw'd his sledge down and went inside the house to grab a mason jar to git this feller some water.

Bout' this time ole' Maw McGraw done come round the corner of the barn and saw this feller leanin up agin' the very fence post ole' Billy Jim McGraw was out to fix, and lemme' tell ya, she didn't care none for that.  She came a-runnin, hands slingin' all over and just a-yellin' and a-screamin louder than a mule in heat what done got caught in the briar patch.  Soon as he saw it, this here feller'z eyes opened reeeel wide and he sinched up his britches so he could make a run fer it...but with him bein' in such dire straights and rightly needin' that glass of water to keep him alive, he stood his ground and hoped he could calm her down a mite.

Well, ole' Maw started a-wailin on him with her fists, screamin' "Git your lyin, skinny-boned elbow off-a that thar post boy!  Ole' Billy Jim done tore his back up fixin that from what them turkeys did to it the other day, an I ain't about to let no runny-lookin feller mess it up agin'!"  She wailed and wailed on that poor fellah until finally she quit on account of she ran out of breath.  Lookin up with a swolled up head and whelps on his back, the feller replied, "But ma'am, I'm just tryin to get me a glass a water so I can make it to that thar Nascar race what's done been goin on down the road down yonder 'bout a mile."

Suddenly, 'ole Maw stood up straight and her eyes glared at the feller...she stood there in deep thought for a minute, scratchin' her beard and spittin' once or twice..."You say yer goin' to the Nascar race eh?  Tell me true 'ole boy, who you pullin fer to win?" 

The feller thought about it fer a second, then said, "Why ma'am, I'ma pullin for Bobby Joe Jackson in the number 47 Stuckey's car to win it all."  

Then 'ole Maw pulled a pistol out of the sewed on pocket of her cornflower dress and shot him dead.

Bout this time, here come ole Billy Jim from the well with that thar mason jar spillin out liquid everywhere as he ran..."Maw, what in tarnation you done you 'ole coot?  You just done shot this here feller dead!"

"Well, he was a-pullin for Bobby Joe in the race today, and you know I don't abide no Bobby Joe fan to step foot on my property or touch my fencepost or even so much as look at me sideways.  So I done shot him 'twixt his beedy little eyes, and I 'taint gonna regret it neither so don't you go lecturin' your Maw on how to git along."

"But Maw!  Ain't yew got no faith in me?  I knewed he was a Bobby Joe fan...why do ya think I went an fetched him a mason jar full of goat pee fer him to drink instead of water?"

Well, neither one of 'em laughed so hard since 'ole Paw died...all in all, it ended up bein' a right fine day for 'ole Billy Jim McGraw.

Or in other words, I hate stupid, inbred country bumpkins...and I hate the "sport" of Nascar...and when these two things get together you wind up with a) quality material for any Jerry Springer show, b) a bunch of people who cried when Dale Earnheart died but who didn't even bother to attend the funerals of any of their own actual family, and c) more mouths than teeth.  Angry rednecks, please feel free to flame me in my comments section...that is, if you can figure out how to work "this here 'puter."

Monday, March 12, 2007

Real Estate Goodness

Ever see those additional little small signs that they stick on top of real estate signs?  Here is what they really mean:

"Must See Inside" - what they're really trying to say is, please don't judge this house by how crappy the outside looks.  We promise that it's so good looking inside that you'll forget the dilapidated exterior.

"Reduced" - we're so desperate to sell this house that we're announcing our desperation in hopes that someone will take advantage of it.  Please take advantage of us...PLEASE!

"Owner Relocating" - this could mean one of two things...either the house sucks so bad that the owner decided, "Freaking forget it...I'm getting the <bleep> out of here now, and I don't care if it's sold or not!  I hate this house so bad that I'm willing to risk bankruptcy to avoid spending one more day here!"...or, "The economy here is terrible, so I was forced to relocate to find work."  Sounds like a winner!

"Agents Welcome" - yeah, ok...you can bring your unscrupulous, lying, cheating, money grubbing helper along with you...but I'm not filling out a bunch of paperwork just to let him walk around my house, which he'll then turn around and use to say that I legally agreed to give him 47% of my retirement fund.

"Sold" - this sign is hereby posted to commemorate the fact that someone just got ripped off.  Here's hoping it wasn't you.    

"Under Contract" - The good news is, there's still hope for you if you are interested in this house.  Our heinous legal system and bloated government have made the paperwork involved in buying/selling a house so painful to deal with that there's a great chance one of the parties involved will simply quit due to writer's cramps or mental fatigue.  The bad news is, should you pursue this house at some point "the parties involved" will involve you.  

"What?  Five more stacks of paperwork?  Fourteen separate pieces of identification?  Three hours worth of going over stupid details and signing my name for the 1 billionth time?  FOR CRYING OUT LOUD YOU!  JUST LET ME GIVE YOU THE MONEY AND YOU GIVE ME THE HOUSE AND TELL THE LAWYERS I'M GOING TO SHOVE THAT PAPERWORK SO FAR UP...no, I'm not going to run and go get a passport...NO...NO...no you can't have a flippin' blood sample you vulture!  JUST LET ME BUY THE HOUSE!"