Archive for the ‘ramdom thoughts’ category

The Mess

October 7, 2013

Guess what? I have never been to a National park or Washington D.C.  I really don’t care if they never reopen. Take what they are spending on them and tack it on my social security check. Guess what the stock market is always down for a few days then it goes back up. That is how the rich get richer. I could care less about the stock market.

If you are worried the government isn’t going to cure cancer forge it. The congress couldn’t legislate themselves a cure for V.D. Turn it over to the drug companies, they’ll find a cure and make a billion at the same time.

Now for the debt ceiling. When I was 35 I decided I could borrow my way out of debt. I didn’t work. It want work for the country either.

Charity begins at home. Stop sending billions to people that hate us. Stop protecting everybody else’s borders and put the army on ours. First it would boost the local economies through the roof. Second we wouldn’t have to support everyone else’s rejects.

Before we can do any of this though we will all have to be put in cages. We that are living now are too stupid to vote the blood suckers out of office.

 

I say our children should lock us away now before we total screw it up for them. They will be the ones left with this mess.

King Of Podunk

September 21, 2013

podunkMorning

I have a short story on Kindle for Free today and I think Sunday. King of Podunk

check it out on Kindle

http://www.amazon.com/King-Podunk-Porch-Drama-ebook/dp/B00F550J56/ref=sr_1_sc_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1379767421&sr=1-1-spell&keywords=king+og+podunk

Bubba Jones Free

July 23, 2013

Fee, free at last. 

Well maybe it isn’t as big of deal as when Dr, King said it but Today through Thursday My book Bubba Jones is free on both Amazon as well as Kindle. Check it out. Sure will not cost you anything and it is a limited time promotion that Amazon allowed me to do.Image

SMART vs STRONG

June 23, 2013

According to the old Greek that told this tale, the earth was young and only few walked on it.

On one particular day the gods were bored and had gathered to watch the few humans that treaded the earth.

Two caught there attention. One was a strong and powerful man. He had no fear and often spent hours staring at himself in calm waters. The gods found him most charming. Most likely, because he reminded them so much of their own self-centered selves.

They, then spotted another man on the opposite side of the mountain. He was scrawny and seemed preoccupied watching a colony of ants at work. He most likely had never seen himself in a calm pond of water and had no desire to.

After a couple of more goblets of wine they decide to go down and visit the humans. The carried each man a present which was the custom for the time.

When they reached earth and brought the two men together the older god announced he had brought two gifs.

The first was a fine mule and a sleek new wagon. The second was a small piece of paper and a pencil that was barley long enough to still write.

The old god, winked an stared at the beautiful and powerful man and told him to select first. He as well as his companions was all eying the mule and wagon.

The greedy powerful man saw their concerns and took the mule.

The gods smiled and gave the weaker man the discarded pencil and paper. With that they went back to where they had come.

Sometime later, the gods again met for an afternoon of discussion and wine. The two men came up and they looked over a rail to see the powerful man looking at himself in the pond. Not seeing the mule or wagon they decided to once again come down to earth to see what was happing.

Upon their arrival at the pond they ask the powerful man what had come of his gift. He looked a little sheepish and confessed.

“One day I was at this very watering hole. The mule you gave me was drinking his fill and I was admiring myself just up the stream there.

That silly little man came up with his little pencil and paper and ask me to sit with him. The next thing I know he had figured me right out of my wagon and mule.”

The moral of the story,,,,

Being strong and handsome will last you until you grow old. Being smart will last you a lifetime

HOT SPRINGS

June 10, 2013

Just got back from,Hot Springs, Arkansaw. I have lived within six hours of there most of my life and have never visited.  It is one of those strange places that yesterday and today live quietly side by side. In the early 1900’s this was Disney World for some at the most famous gangsters that ever lived. The strange thing was they left their life of crime at the city limits.

They came to Hot Springs to gamble a little go to the tracks and most important of all they went for the hot spring baths.

 

No, I  didn’t go to any bath houses. I did have the next best thing though. A hot tub outside my bedroom door. This wasn’t  a real vacation. My sister owns three houses on the Lake there and we went to a family reunion. This may have been one of the first trips I have ever taken that I didn’t feel as if I needed a day of rest when I got back to get over my days of rest

 

A great thing about going to a family reunion with your own house is when you get tired you can go home. lol

 

An up date on A killing in the Delta. If you read it and saw some grammar errors they are being corrected. This was my first time to work with Kindle and it took a little getting used to. Should look much better by Tuesday or Wednesday. Also adjusted the price downward. I want people to be able to read it and be be comfortable buying a book from an unknown.

CALL ME A ASS

January 26, 2013

Alright just call me a ass. I don’t care . If you say any thing against someone ‘s hero you must be a a ass in this country.

I just read were they are trying to name a Mississippi River bridge after Stan Musial. I have nothing against Stan. If they wanted to name a ball park after him great. A bridge is stupid. Most likely the only thing this guys knows about bridges. They keep you from getting wet.

I live out side of Jackson, MS. They just spent a couple of million dollars to rename the Jackson airport. Wiley Medgar Evers airport. Oh let me back up. They original spent two million to name it Medgar Evers airport. Someone got their feeling hurt because they didn’t place his first name on it so the changed it again. Most people didn’t even know his first name was Wiley.

As for as I know Mr. Evers knew nothing about flying or like me cared nothing about it. He was local civil rights leader. Because of this a few people felt like he should have a airport named after him. Forget anyone connected to flying.

There are several libraries in Jackson. The main one is named after Eudora Welty. A home girl that became world famous. Most of the others are name after civil rights leaders. None of which were great readers or writers as for as I know.

In my opinion we all pay taxes so in all fairness nothing should be named after any body that hasn’t been dead for at least one hundred years. That way the tax payers aren’t paying for someone’s cousin that gave someone some money or helped them out in life.

Like I started, call me a ass. Still that is how I feel.

THE DEATH MERCHANT

January 22, 2013

He opened the door and extended his hand. His shake definitely wasn’t a cold fish nor was it a vice. His grip was impersonal if there is such a thing. His hands felt dry and chalky. They weren’t the hard working or hard playing hands of a young man. These were manicured hands. The nails contained no polish, yet buffed to a high gloss.
“Come in.” His voice showed no sentiment at all. He was, I suppose 35 going on 60. Each word seemed handpicked as needed. Not one was wasted. Each served its purpose. Each syllable conceivably coming from a small daily allocation. This was apparent by how cautious he chose each.
I soon learned he spoke more contentedly with his hands. They appeared to be much more at ease than his constricted tongue. He touched my shoulder nonchalantly .It felt as if a feather had fallen on it.
“This way please.” His hand spoke, guiding me to the closed-door room. When we arrived, again as if deprived of speech he opened both doors and gestured me in the direction of the casket. I could feel his feather like hand on my shoulder. He must have supposed without some coaxing, I might turn and run.
I was now contemplating what my mother was once. I examined her like a cast-off coat placed gently in the closet for its last time. My mother had gone on leaving only this old worn garment behind for us to morn.
I noticed the feather light hand was no longer on my shoulder. I looked around and saw the death merchant now standing quietly in the back of the room. His hands were now hushed each holding tightly to the other.
I chose to look over my shoulder at the merchant since it was less painful than looking down. He stood there with his pale skin and pale gray suite on staring at his own feet with his pale gray eyes. I still knew that by some means he was watching me. Maybe I was a reflection in his highly polished shoes.
Throughout the next hour or so, he was there but never there. I never heard him speak, yet when the time come to move I felt his feather light fingers.
This merchant of death gave me no contentment. This death merchant took none from me.