Big City!
Merle!
Word-Depressed!
Cred? Cannot Find!
Shite!
Give Me Time
Properly Crediting Posters is
IMPORTANT To ME!
Big City!
Merle!
Word-Depressed!
Cred? Cannot Find!
Shite!
Give Me Time
Properly Crediting Posters is
IMPORTANT To ME!
While on the subject of Memories of Oklahoma, I cannot but help to include some more along that same vein below. I hope you enjoy. And please humor me, because when y’all ‘like’ my posts, my Blood Pressure comes down. Substantially. So… do it! Do it for MY health. OH! If you also comment on my posts well, then that is ever even more effective. (If you do not recognize ‘Tongue-in-Cheek’… I cannot help you at this point. I have enuff trouble just understanding CNN these days.)
Some say this was ‘mockery’. I disagree. I think the Beach Boys secretly wanted to be Texans, but failed their immigration tests, i.e., they could not identify a photo of Willie Nelson… so they opted for Oklahoma and then did this song. In protest of their lost dreams. Google it Y’all.
And of course now we must come full circle:
My Take on Kinky: Here
Or if you require something more sublime…
Peace,
Lancers
P.S. For all of Y’all ‘Serial Readers’ out there: I will finish the Sinai bits and the Biker, Bouncer, Big-Boned Gal bits soon. And I do thank y’all for any interest you may have in these true tales.
But for now, I have to punch some holes in the wall.
-Lance
Fer the res’ of all y’all who were unlucky enuff to not be born’d in This-Great-Land, Way’ll, Please watch an’ enjoy.
Feel Me?
I love all y’all (even all y’all Yankees)
Peace Out,
Y’all’s Lance-ikin
“Aren’t you scared the Lord will hit you with a light-en-ing bolt?”
“I figger if he did, He’d know what He was doin’. I’d just ride it wherever it took me.”
–Dave Gardner
(“Me no Alamo”)
*************
“According to Texas legend, in 1836, when Sam Houston, master of the strategic retreat,
and the Texan Army finally allowed Santa Anna and the Mexicans to catch up with them, the Texans waded into the sleeping Mexicans at San Jacinto, yelling, “Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad!” while filleting Mexicans left and right with their bayonets. The panicked Mexicans tried to scramble away, screaming, “Me no Alamo, me no Goliad!” It has come to mean, “Hey, don’t blame me. I didn’t do it.”
“All the stuff I report in this book happened. I didn’t make up any of it.”
“Me no Alamo.”
–Molly Ivins
From her wonderful book: “Molly Ivins Can’t Say That, Can She?”
Read it.
And Weep.
And laugh
Yer Ass Off