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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 5:57 pm
  

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When the water level in a nice little pond goes down some I was always told that that particular fragrance was duck farts that were left behind.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 7:22 pm
  

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Ducks eat frogs, so it's almost the same thing.

Microbiologist expert on pond scum!? How do explain Bush and Cheney in those terms then?Yowzer! <img src="http://www.arlo.net/ubb/smilies/smile.gif" width=15 height=15>


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 10:32 pm
  

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... which reminds me of my grandson's first sentence... he was about 18 months old, looking at a picture on his playmat.... and he pointed at the frog... asking "Frog eat bug?" (yes, Taulric, Frogs eat bugs)


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 11:34 pm
  

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I gotta great big pond right off my back patio filled with uricotelic ducks and ammonotelic tadpoles. Is it the ammonia coming out of the tadpoles,the uric acid coming out of the ducks, or the smell of rotting vegetation, that stinks when the pond goes down?

Did Sam Starr kill Bluford (myth?)or was it the consumption (fact?)
Hey, my step-grandpa was named Starr, I'll have to find out from my Dad if they are related.


If Ned was alive today, he'd be on The List for sure.


[url=http://www.frontiertimes.com/outlaws/belle_starr.html]


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2005 11:54 pm
  

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I won the What do YOu Know? quiz once by answering a question about pond scum.


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 03, 2005 12:07 am
  

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opps this is the one I ment to put........

http://www.fortunecity.com/tinpan/parton/2/belle1.html


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 03, 2005 1:31 am
  

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I bet old Blue Duck could sing the blues (that Belle, she is quite a looker). But to be described as a flat faced Indian, that just don't sound pretty, but still, I can recall a time when i was just drunk enough to get kicked out of the genuine official international finals rodeo bar (now that aint pretty either). Now you might think that would be difficult to do, but I gotta tell you with all honesty, it just weren't challenging. Well the story itself begins way back out on the Cherokee strip in Payne county Oklahoma I was young buck, impressionable and carefree and had set my sights on becoming a veterinarian (I mean I was at the right place and all). So there I was bee boppin around campus doing my time when eventually I had to go talk to the counselor who informed me it was required, my duty, that I take at least blah ba de blah hours in agricultural economics if I hoped to fulfill my dreams of arms in cows and calves successfully pulled. So i did it! i went to the interesting classes about how to look at a beef and determine its value (its more impersonal than actually refering to it as a living being, its just beef on the hoof, period). So I would go through the butchering labs and i personally witnessed a lecture on knife sharpening 101, "if your going to cut beef you need a quality edge on the blade" they would say as you scribbled notes like "a quality blade to cut the cow". Well i moved through the lab in white coat and safety glasses and proceeded to take a test on the quality of meat. Now there was about 20 of us students and the instructor would held up a hunk o'cow and said, "name this piece right cheer?" and the smart ones were writing, "now thats a piece steak and theres plenty of porterhouse but its marbled nice and I could trim a couple nice T-bones off that and grill'em just right to make your mouth water and want to wash it down with an ice cold beer where is it going after class?". Now the dumb ones were writing, "that could be a chuck roast but the bone don't look right." well that is the kinda stuff that you did in ag econ as they say.
I would get out of class and head out into the country and free my mind. Well one day i headed east down highway 51 (brrrring). and I pulled over to the side of the side road and was intrigued to find a a little arrow on the sign that said Ingalls OK, (it was pointing right) so I drove down to Ingalls and i saw a monument to Ingalls that had been erected in 1932 by the WPA (my family has issues but hey). It was a nice little rock monolith that stood about 10 feet tall, tastefully done with a little metal plaque that had once said something interesting but had lately been the victim of a shot gun blast or two. I couldn't make out the words, but being well schooled in Oklahoma history i new this was the Outlaw town in the Cherokee strip, or at least a monument to where it stood. Why right there on that spot either Bob Dalton or Bill Doolin could have spent there time time trying to get into the bloomers of some cowboy's daughter and, and depending on how cute them boys was, there was probably some negotiation of compensation for said services rendered (times sometimes can really be gettin' tough and a man has to do what a man has to do) Apparantly as times change, some people over in Stillwater decided that it just wasn't good policy to let them boys go up and steal from the Kansans come back down south and barter it for the pleasures of a women in moments of weakness and boredom right there in what would eventually become Oklahoma. God or the federals one might frown upon it and make the dream of statehood an unreality. So the good people of Stillwater organized a vigilante force (lead by none other than Pistol pete today immortalized as the mascot of the OK State Cowboys- Go Pokes, (I'm sorry, you gotta love that saying, Go Pokes)) It was vigilante because Marshall Tighman was late in arriving from Guthrie and they got antsy and went on ahead without him. well, legend has it that there was many a round fired and them hombres was a praying Tom Ames prayer, but in reality all but one outlaw got away (apparantly the women of Ingalls didn't even find him cute enough to help escape no matter how much gold he possessed)
You can probably understand how I was aweinspired by the moment and I began belting out;
well they were doolin, doolin dalton
when this guy in the bushes yelled out "shut the f@#$ up". I was like hey man its cool I'm sorry, he said, "hey no offense dude but my head hurts and , well, you can't sing well enough for me to handle with this hnag over." I was like mutterin', "well i really wasn't trying and stuff." and he said come on over to the house. Well we was sittin on the porch and he pulled out some guitars and stuffs and we was havin fun rockin out and everthang with a beer and another beer and smoke and another smoke and he said well play me a song? i am like "oh now you want me to sing" but hey, so I did that G to C thang and threw in a d or something occasionally and started to croaken:

well me an you and Mrs Jones
Sittin on the front porch all alone
thinkin about how time will go
without a cigarette

RollAnother, roll another , roll another roll another roll another mary wanna cigarette
RollAnother, roll another , roll another roll another roll another mary wanna cigarette

well he thought that was funny so he sang his song

There's a place in Oklahoma
For a young man to go
where you can sit up in the tree tops
and enlighten your soul
there is a river on the east side
deaf man on the west
a place across the hiway says their chicks are the best

well its a place right outta Georgia
big pillars on the porch
and a river in the driveway evertime it rains o' course
two big dogs from ireland and one from who knows where
and they all come down to greet us when we come down the stairs

head out east on the hiway
well it wont be to long now
yousee that crooked mail box
and dogs start to howl
there's ten acres of homeland
when you drive through the gate
its a refuge from the outside and its called the estate

(to be continued)

<center><FONT COLOR="#000080">--- Edited 1 times, lastly by PSBeaty on Dec 03, 2005 ---</FONT></center>


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 03, 2005 12:05 pm
  

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Wow PS, I'll bet you dream in color! <img src="http://www.arlo.net/ubb/smilies/smile.gif" width=15 height=15>


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PostPosted: Sun Dec 04, 2005 12:01 am
  

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psb, i admire your style of writing about what you know! (at least, you have me convinced)
i tend to speak in possible proximities <img src="http://www.arlo.net/ubb/smilies/smile.gif" width=15 height=15>
...carry on my friend!


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PostPosted: Sun Dec 04, 2005 12:50 am
  

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Joined: Sep 15, 2001
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Bravo, ya'll!


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PostPosted: Sun Dec 04, 2005 10:50 am
  

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well I don't know nothing except what has happened to me, but i am wondering if you can handle the truth, I mean I got kicked out of the Genuine Official International National Finals Rodeo Bar (this is true, everbit I swear), a rodeo bar, genuine and official, with professionally printed posters that said come on down after the rodeo and drink with us. Maybe this doesn't sound bizarre to you but here is a little story about rodeos and how rowdy they can be. OKC built this hugely oversized convention center in OKC back in 1970 called the Myriad. Well conventions were hard to book so they put a rock concert there instead. Very first Rock concert in the Myriad, it was Neil Young on that infamously crazy first giant solo tour where he learned to drink large quantities of tequila before, during and after the shows. THis incident is immortalized in the one album he has yet to put out on CD Time Fades Away (I know he hates it but I like it- "All day presidents look out windows, All night sentries watch the moon glow, all are waiting till the time is right".

Linda Ronstadt was the backup and i was heart broken when she announced that Sneaky Pete would not be playing because the trucking company had lost his pedal steel (I was like "this is OKC, surely there is a pedal steel somewhere he could use" and then Ben Keith played pedal steel for Young most of the night, oh well). Well the point of this story is there was great outrage in OKC about the condition of the Myriad following the concert. No more concerts in the Myriad (which I didn't mind because the place was too damn big). It seems not only did the fans "vandalize the place" but Young himself went on a tequila fired tirade apparantly and suffice it to say that was that (I don't think the damage was as extensive as the Gaylord papers went on and on about).

Anyways, a no rock concert in the Myriad policy was the result (which really deprived the place of desperately needed cash, so not exactly a popular policy). So a year or two later they booked the National Finals Rodeo, a godsend for the place. Long story short, You can't imagine the damage of a horde of thousands of, how you say, inebriated cowbays wanting to watch some Bronco or Bull Riding. Well, that lead to reinstating relatively civil rock concerts in the Myriad (the best I saw there after that was Clapton with Freddie King the Who acted like they hated each other and didn't really want to be there).

point being, I got kicked out of the Genuine Official Rodeo Bar, can you handle that story?

<center><FONT COLOR="#000080">--- Edited 2 times, lastly by PSBeaty on Dec 04, 2005 ---</FONT></center>


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PostPosted: Sun Dec 04, 2005 11:05 am
  

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I guess what I am saying is it might not be suitable for delicate ears!


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PostPosted: Sun Dec 04, 2005 11:19 pm
  

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i'll cover my ears

(screams)


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PostPosted: Mon Dec 05, 2005 6:01 pm
  

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I don’t know if the fortune teller can tell you when you have no place to hide. I don’t know but I often wondered about and tried to look inside. Fortuitous opportunity, now how often does that come along, seems I can close my eyes and dream back to times of porches, picking and doing all kind of stuff all night long. Well I guess the goal was enlightenment, well I guess that was the goal I seeked. I guess that was the goal to achieve well I guess, but it seems hard to tell as the future left me weak. To peak behind the curtain, to catch the thrill before it goes, to peak behind the curtain, for that, it seems, I never said no. Well it must be in the moon, because lunacy is what I know. I would howl and scream and curse the moon stumbling and searching for home. I wanted to peak behind that curtain no matter what I found. I might be running across a pasture, howl at nothing, jump at nothing and sing my midnight songs. I want to conjure up the devil. I need to truly test my soul. I might be lost in the wind but I have never really felt alone. There was always somebody hanging close by who seemed to be singing the same songs. In a pile of clothes near the waters edge, we left modesty behind and I would slap the water to scare the snakes from where they would normally reside. Short snake I yelled, and jumping right in, I splashed that old pond dry. It always seems that in the pond, the moon and stars were bigger than the sky. It seems I found too many dreams, many more than for which I had time. Soon the bats they would come screeching in, disturbing dreams, changing directions in mid flight. They could drive you crazy through the thrill, then the haunt would settled in for the ride. How many streets have I stumbled dawn singing of rumbling trains taking dreams and failures for a ride. Dreaming my dreams of sadness and of old friends and relations left behind. Well you can toast the remains and toss the empty in and say now I leave this behind, yet, I still wonder what might happen if you peak to long and the light hits you right between the eyes.


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PostPosted: Tue Dec 06, 2005 3:02 am
  

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Location: Brisbane OZ
PSB,I wish you and all our Moosefriends could come sit around my firepit next to my huge pond with the full moon shining on it so you could tell us your stories and thoughts all night !!
Bet everyone would have some good ones to tell! What a hoot that would be!


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