So Let’s Just Call The Whole Thing Off!
You’ll Have to Scroll Down For Ginger;
I Got Distracted.
Yes; It Happens From time-To-Time
I No Longer Have One Dime.
Nor a Brain
Yet, Poverty & Ignorance is Bliss–
I am Blessed to Have Both
“Hey Brother, can you spare a dime?
I seem to have misplaced mine”
But Texas Always in my Heart?
And OnCE A’GIN” fUK u word-de-Pressed! i CANnOT DeDIite This! Why Not? Why The Fuk NOT? Fuk U Word-Disstressed!
I have spilled’d way too
Much Virtual Ink on California Yeah!
I spent Above My ‘Income’
No Breakin’ News Nor Revelation
To Be Discovered There!
Yeah! I once spent a Night in The Hotel Del…Cost me a Month’s Navy Pay… Well worth it, even tho I DID NOT Get Laid… Story of my Life! Still Worth it.
“Welcome to Hotel Hell”
Back When, Way Back When!
When I was in SEAL Train’in’
The Hotel Del Did NOT
I LoVe Her!
Almost HALF as Much as I Love TEXAS!
But Not Quite.
Aerosmith – Crazy
Loved it. Hated it. Few decades ago I could truthfully say, “Hey! I’ve spent half my life in California.” (See This Or This)
Now I can say, “Hey! I’ve spent most of my life in Dangerous Desolate Places.” (Middle East & East Texas) That worm did turn some. (Go Here or There)
I really don’t care at this point
As a Native Texan, I am supposed to always hate California and yes, Yes to all you Texans out there: I know this. I get it. Put the rope down.
Yet I more love than hate California.
In California I learned to appreciate music, art, science, literature, hippies, beaches and blondes. My first kiss was not in California, but I didn’t miss that milestone by much–In California.
In Texas I learned to appreciate drankin’ whiskey and beer , smokin’ dope, playin’ football, chasin’ cheerleaders, and Raisin’ Hell.
Arriving home to Texas late 1968 folks made fun of my ‘California Accent’ if there even is such a thing. (There were no Valley Girls in the Sixties as far as I know). My ‘accent’ was ‘just the way normal people talked’ as far as I was concerned. Texans sounded funny to me (Blasphemy!)
My Attitude Adjustment didn’t take long to take.
In California I was a Little League Baseball Star. In Texas no one gave two shits about baseball. I had to learn football. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but I had all those baseball skills which were not worth a cup of spit in Texas.
I love Texas and don’t get me wrong. But once in a while, when I see a photo or a news bit showing San Francisco, or San Diego, or a beach, or a blonde… I hear this guy singing:
Sometimes I even hear this blonde singing:
And I tear up. (Just a little bit) but then I throw on some Bob Wills and Remember Who I am.
And thus remembering, I go out and buy a case of Lone Star Long Necks and listen to this guy: