(I guess it’s a good thing I don’t fish!)


Two rednecks go on a fishing trip.

They rent all the equipment – the reels, the rods, the rowboat, the car, and even a cabin in the woods. I mean they spend a fortune!

The first day they go fishing, but they don’t catch anything.

The same thing happens on the second day, and on the third day.

It goes on like this until finally, on the last day of their vacation, one of the men catches a fish.

As they’re driving home they’re really depressed.

One guy turns to the other and says, “Do you realize that this one lousy fish we caught cost us fifteen hundred bucks?”

The other guy says, “Wow! It’s a good thing we didn’t catch any more!”

Watching the World From My Lap

I invited this particular situation.

I called Rack up.

He’s a bony creature, athletic and muscular.

But he’s all dog, and he knows where to stay to be comfortable.

Calling Rack up onto my lap, something that a farmer with a Cowdog would find bizarre, is something I do occasionally.

After all, I don’t have quite as much free time as I did once.  But Rack likes it.

It starts with a perk.

“Hey Rack, Come on!  Up!”

His ears are up, smiling, and his head is alert.

“Wanna come up?”

Standing up, Rack will stretch his body, part dog, part rubber bands.

One paw comes up onto the arm of the recliner to ask for permission.  Always knowing his place in the pack, the Beta Dog asks the Alpha Dog if he really is allowed his place.

“Come on, Boy!  Come on up!”

First comes the other paw, then Rack drapes himself over the arm of the chair.  A large overstuffed recliner, Rack melds with the padding, melts over the side and partially into my lap.

As time goes by and I’m petting him, he pulls more and more of himself over the edge and fully onto the chair.  It really is too small for the both of us, but he doesn’t mind.  It won’t be forever after all.

But this particular day, he decided that he’d sit bolt upright.  On me, and look out the window.

There he sat, watching the world go by, just like I do each time I sit there on display.  The big window made from Impact Glass, safe from the storms, watching people walk past sometimes looking in, sometimes not.

We wave at the neighbors as they go by, watch the butterflies and dragonflies on the wing, and the world going by is not such a scary place for a timid dog.

There Was A Man In The 1800s

There was a man in the 1800s who had no arms,no money and no home.

Wanting to improve his quality of life he goes in seach of a job.

He goes to the local butcher shop and asks for a job.  The butcher says that he cant cut meat and he doesn’t get the job.

He then goes to the local pub asks for a job and gets the same response.

Frustrated and desperate he goes the church and prays for hours on end. The priest notices him and asks him what his troubles are.  Upon hearing this question the man explodes in a fireball of yelling and crying.

Pitying the poor soul the priest says that the church has a job opening on the bell at tower.  The priest then goes to say that he could have it if he could ring the bell. Wanting the job horribly bad he says that he can.

On the first day of work wanting to prove to himself that he can have a job without arms. He charges at the bell headfirst and rings it.  He does so everyday and his head gets bigger and bruised but he’s happy.

A couple weeks into the job He loses his focus while ringing the bell and the bell comes back and hits and he falls of the tower.

A crowd soon gathers around the man.

One lady shouts out”does anybody know this man”? A boy replies ”no but his face sure rings a bell

Two Statues In A Park

They are lovely, Romanesque statues, and mostly nude. One male, with a spear and shield, and one female, scantily draped in a robe, holding a jug of water. They face each other day in and day out. They are everything to one another.

One day, the Statue Fairy comes to visit them (fairies are real, as you should know) and decrees that they have been very good statues, on the official Fairies’ Scale of Statue Goodness (ratings from 1 to Excellent) and have earned, between the two of them, one wish.

Of course the statues wish to be animated (but only for about an hour, since they do love being statues so much), and so the Statue Fairy grants their wish and flies back to Heaven where the Fairies live.
Instantly the guy statue grabs the girl statue and they go running off into the brush. The bushes start shaking… Twigs are snapping… Small animals go running… There is grunting, moaning, panting –

And the two come walking out of the undergrowth, hand in hand, sweat pouring down their faces.
“That was wonderful,” the man exclaims.

“Yes,” says the woman, “but it only took two minutes. What are we going to do for the other fifty-eight?”
“Let’s do it again,” the man shouts with glee.

“Okay,” says the woman, “but this time you hold the pigeon, and I get to crap on its head.”

Yellow Flowers, Green Leaves, Nearby Park

I’m out, therefore I take pictures.

I don’t know what I will use them for, but I take them anyway.

It pleases me.

It makes me feel creative.

And sometimes I even get some that I like.

This one is saved out to my Backgrounds directory at the moment, and I may even get some use out of it professionally.  After all, some of those little yellow flowers look amazing close up and blown to make them full screen.

But never mind all that.

They’re just pretty.

It’s over at the nearby M.E. DePalma park.

Knowing M.E., I’m expect anything in there to be native, or at least “endemic”.  That endemic stuff, she works hard to keep out.  Not knowing the difference, I just like the beauty.

Since I walk past the place a couple times a day, I’m able to take it in.

Having the flowers there, and the ever changing display, is one of many nice things about living in Wilton Manors.

But for now, I’m just enjoying the colors.

This picture was taken Mid September, so these blooms are long gone, but there are many others there.

I will say that my Monarch Butterflies are enjoying it too.  The Mexican Milkweed that is in there is always eaten to sticks, just like in my backyard.  Some of it may even be some that I planted, some not, but there are always a few nearby for the butterflies to eat.  I’m able to sit in my dining room, look out the big picture window and eventually a Monarch will float past.

All because someone had the forethought, common sense, and appreciation of beauty to plant a garden on a corner property too small to put up Yet Another McMansion in the land named after flowers.

Three Rednecks Go On A Hunting Trip

Alright.. So there are these three rednecks, and they all decided to go on a hunting trip together.

– The first day, the first redneck goes out and successfully hunts a deer. He brought it back; then the other two ask how he got it.
“I just followed the tracks and killed it.” He replied.

– The second day, the second redneck goes out and successfully hunts a boar; loaded it up in his truck and brought it back.

– Again, the other two asked how he got it.
“I just followed the tracks and killed it.” He said.

– The third day, the third redneck goes out, but comes back empty handed while covered in cuts and bruises all over his body.
The other rednecks were appalled and asked what happened.
“Well.. I tried to follow your guys’ advice, but I got hit by a damn train!”

Diesel Fitter

Sven and Ole worked together and both were laid off, so they went to the unemployment office together.
Asked for his occupation, Ole said “Panty Stitcher. I sew the elastic onto ladies cotton panties.”
The clerk looked up Panty Sticher.
Finding it classified as unskilled labor, she gave him $300 a week unemployment pay.

Sven was asked his occupation.
“Diesel Fitter” he replied.
Since diesel fitter was a skilled job, the clerk gave Sven $600 a week.
When Ole found out, he was furious.

He stormed back into the unemployment office to find out why his friend and coworker was collecting double his unemployment pay.
The clerk explained, “Panty Stichers are unskilled labor and diesel fitters are skilled labor”
“What skill?” yelled Ole.

“I sew the elastic on the panties, Sven puts them over his head and says, ‘Yah, diesel fitter!”

Getting Rack Ready For The Walk

Ok, I don’t know which TV Show scarred me for life with these little sayings, but let me get them out of the way first!

“I caught you looking at my butt!”

“Quit looking at my butt!”

*WHEW*!  There we go, back to normal!

You see getting Rack ready for his walk is a ritual.  It could be as many as three or more rituals.

It all depends on the time of day and “which” walk we’re taking.

I suppose we could throw weather into that too although it’s either dry or rainy here.

You see Rack the McNab SuperDog (TM) is a herding dog.  A McNab Dog like him loves routines.  He can predict what will happen next and when we make a change to the house, we can see how he’s a bit confused by it all and then adapts.

After all I can’t say “ready” without him wanting to go somewhere.  I changed that to the Spanish “Listo” for when I am “ready” and want to go somewhere and don’t want him to know.  He will learn that and I’ll find another Key Word.

Suggestions anyone?

Herding dogs like the McNab, any collie, or any breed with Shepherd or Heeler in their names were bred for intelligence and flexibility.  You can teach them anything.

I didn’t realize I was teaching him to crawl between my legs.

Yes, they are my legs, but we went through this already.

To get him ready for a walk all I really have to do is show him a leash.  The leash has the harness already clipped to the end for convenience sake.  I hold the harness open and he simply walks through it.

But in typical “One Plus One Equals Three Fashion” of a herding dog, Rack … keeps walking.

Around 43 pounds of wriggling mostly black fur wants to keep going.  The easiest place to go was between my legs.  So as I am trying to reach under his chest to snap the harness together, he has his head stuck back there and is looking around excited.

Trust me, an excited McNab Dog is a very interesting thing.

He will stand there trying to walk forward while there.  I weigh about five times more than he does, roughly, so he’s not going anywhere.  But he’s trying to move forward.

Put your hand under him and push him backwards?  That doesn’t really work, he simply walks forward until he’s stuck.
Step aside?  He’s walking to the front door.

Sure, he’ll come back if called since that is the hallmark of a well trained herding dog, but standing aside isn’t really effective.

So there I am.  A dog sticking his head between my legs, wagging his tail, and waiting to go explore the world.

I’m shaking my head, amused at the entire thing.  Wriggling dog and all.

A couple went on vacation to a fishing resort.

A couple went on vacation to a fishing resort.

The husband liked to fish at the crack of dawn; his wife preferred to read.
One morning the husband returned after several hours of fishing and decided to take a nap.

The wife, to escape her snoring husband, decided to take the boat out. Since she was not familiar with the lake, she rowed out to the middle, anchored the boat, and started reading her book.

Along came the sheriff in his boat. He pulled up alongside and said, “Good morning, ma’am. What are you doing here?”
“Reading a book,” she replied, thinking, “Is this guy blind or what?”

“You’re in a restricted fishing area,” he informed her.

“But, Officer, I’m not fishing. You can see that, surely.”
“But you have all the equipment, ma’am. I’ll have to write you up.”

“If you do that, I will charge you with rape,” returned the irate woman.
“But I haven’t even touched you,” the sheriff objected.
“That’s true; but you have all the equipment.”

THE MORAL: Never argue with a woman who reads.

The House Special – Cojones

A man visiting Spain wants to try the local cuisine, and so walking down a side street, enters a random restaurant and orders the house specialty.

The waiter retreats to the kitchen, and after a time, comes out with a plate loaded with rice pilaf, a green salad, and two large meaty objects.

“What is this?” the man asks. The waiter tells him, “They are cojones, senor.”
“Cojones? What are those?” “Cojones”, the waiter answers, “are the testicles of the bull that lost in the arena today!”

Although he is a little hesitant at first, the man overcomes his doubt about the dish and tries the cojones. “These are magnificent!” he exclaims to the waiter, and finishes the plate with delight.

A week later, towards the end of his vacation, the man revisits the restaurant with fond memories of eating cojones.

The waiter comes over, and the man orders the house specialty once again. The waiter returns to his table soon after with a mound of rice pilaf, a green salad, and two small meaty objects.

The man samples these ‘cojones’, and finds them to be very bitter and rubbery. Angry, he calls the waiter over. “What are these?”

“Cojones”, the waiter replies. “But these can’t be cojones, I was here last week and they were much bigger and more full of flavour!”

“Ah, senor”, the waiter replies, “the bull does not lose every time.”