I've got the ashes of my mom & dad plus 4 dogs on the desk behind me, their spirits surround me.
I'm watched over.......
-
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TOTALLY RANDOM POST II
- Thread starter minds_I
- Start date
I've got the ashes of my mom & dad plus 4 dogs on the desk behind me, their spirits surround me.
I'm watched over.......
N
noyd666
SHIVER ME TIMBERS ITS FUK"N COLD.
Genghis Kush
Active member
Hot Corn, cold corn, bring along the demijohn
Hot Corn, cold corn, bring along the demijohn
Hot Corn, cold corn, bring along the demijohn
Fair thee well, uncle Bill, see you in the morning
Yes sir
Old aunt Sally, won't you fill'em up again
Old aunt Sally, won't you fill'em up again
Old aunt Sally, won't you fill'em up again
I ain't had a drink since the lord knows when
Yes sir
Preacher's in the pulpit takin' in the money
Children in the bee hive takin' in the honey
Old aunt Sally just a jumpin' for joy
Happiest lot of people that ever I saw
Yes sir
Hot Corn, cold corn, bring along the demijohn
Hot Corn, cold corn, bring along the demijohn
Fair thee well, uncle Bill, see you in the morning
Yes sir
Old aunt Sally, won't you fill'em up again
Old aunt Sally, won't you fill'em up again
Old aunt Sally, won't you fill'em up again
I ain't had a drink since the lord knows when
Yes sir
Preacher's in the pulpit takin' in the money
Children in the bee hive takin' in the honey
Old aunt Sally just a jumpin' for joy
Happiest lot of people that ever I saw
Yes sir
Back in the early '90s my dad was staying with me here in Minnesota every summer, he'd winter down in Florida. Anyway I was doing real estate back then which meant I would arrive home at various times almost every day, and because we're so rural it could take me anywhere from 10 to 45 minutes depending on where I parted with my last appointment for the day.
Dad would always wait for my arrival before going out for a drink or two, he liked to keep Trixie (my springer spaniel) company. One day my dad informed me that no matter when I arrived at home that Trixie would get up and pace back 'n forth 5-10 minutes prior to me showing up, every day, same routine.
OranguTrump
Crotchety Old Crotch
The longest word I know how to spell is
onomatopoeia
onomatopoeia
_tessarecting
ஓ
Get just what you need
Just what
Just what
N
noyd666
GOTTA GO TRANSPLANT.
Running out of room..
Running out of room..
Up-potted 6 Pinapple Chunk's from Solo cups to 1 gallon pots.
I have extras outside in pots 818-Headband, Green Crack and some Pineapple Chunk
What's an old guy to do...
Running out of room..
Up-potted 6 Pinapple Chunk's from Solo cups to 1 gallon pots.
I have extras outside in pots 818-Headband, Green Crack and some Pineapple Chunk
What's an old guy to do...
I've always wondered how small a pot you can pull off with coco...high and staring at a 2L bottle of A&W. I imagine cutting the top off, but I'm disuaded by the notion that it's something a teeniebopper might do in his parents basement. Nevertheless...think young stay young right? I need batteries...
N
noyd666
ONLY 7 AND FEEL LIKE A NAP.
N
noyd666
well oz went to the polls today to elect another ponce.
N
noyd666
and the winner is ?? not yet.
_tessarecting
ஓ
Help me set up the tape recorders
time to bake me some chicken, then nuke the sweet corn.......
OranguTrump
Crotchety Old Crotch
I went to a cousins place yesterday for mini-family reunion - I took her some of the seeds I'd brought back from Jamaica & 3 different auto seeds.
She had over 20 plants hidden in her shed while the family was there - one of her husbands relatives (a woman) actually calls the cops on pot smokers/growers, even if they are family or friends. She's had a couple of people busted, and her daughter (early high school) does science fair projects and other stuff about the perils of weed. What a c*nt! Bitch was drinking her ass off, so some people's poisons are EVIL & some sacrosanct.
Cousin has almost zero idea what she's doing, but the plants looked good & green - all from seed she got from her last years crop. I think the stuff is more sativa than indica, I told her she may want to let them go as long as possible before harvest. I'm gonna walk her thru the auto's, maybe she can get some yield off them.
She had over 20 plants hidden in her shed while the family was there - one of her husbands relatives (a woman) actually calls the cops on pot smokers/growers, even if they are family or friends. She's had a couple of people busted, and her daughter (early high school) does science fair projects and other stuff about the perils of weed. What a c*nt! Bitch was drinking her ass off, so some people's poisons are EVIL & some sacrosanct.
Cousin has almost zero idea what she's doing, but the plants looked good & green - all from seed she got from her last years crop. I think the stuff is more sativa than indica, I told her she may want to let them go as long as possible before harvest. I'm gonna walk her thru the auto's, maybe she can get some yield off them.
Missing my Buddy Phil today. He died a few years ago on this day. He always loved the fourth of July.
In 1967 the day after he graduated from high school he joined the Marines. He knew he would be drafted anyway so he beat them to it.
Phil was a warrior. Bronze star with V, Purple hearts, 2 tours in Vietnam and then unmentionable "actions" for a few years after .
When he took off his shirt he looked like he was put together by Dr. Frankenstein.The scars, missing dimples of flesh and suture marks a testament to what he had been through. Phil had been blown up, shot, stabbed, you name it.
Exposure to Agent Orange left him in his later years with a blood disorder that sometimes caused the skin where it is thinner such as ear lobes to weep blood. He would say " Fuckin still bleeding in Nam, I guess." In a way, he was.
Emotionally, Phil had a tough time when he tried to settled down. He sometimes fought the demons in his head with alcohol which didnt help him at all. When Phil got the "look" in his eyes I knew those demons were stalking him again .He was cursed with a deep remorse of some of the things he had done or been forced to do.
There were times when he cried, his worst memory being of a shack full of dead children,found when he kicked the door in.
He wouldnt say when or where but from what he told me I think he felt responsible for their deaths.
Having no family, perhaps that is why he always treated and loved my boys like they were his own.
His outer appearance would scare some. Phil looked as dangerous as he really was but that outside shell hid a generous, friendly, caring heart of gold.
He loved dogs too, and dogs loved him. Phil was one of those guys who could walk up to the meanest junk yard dog, whisper to it and within minutes that dog would be his best friend. It was amazing.
So today Im sitting here, drinking a beer and thinking about Phil. I'll toast him, holding my beer to the sky.
"Here's to you buddy. I hope you've found some peace". Oorahh !
I miss him. He was my friend. I'm proud to have known him and I wish he was here with me to help celebrate the day of our nation's independence which he held so dear.
In 1967 the day after he graduated from high school he joined the Marines. He knew he would be drafted anyway so he beat them to it.
Phil was a warrior. Bronze star with V, Purple hearts, 2 tours in Vietnam and then unmentionable "actions" for a few years after .
When he took off his shirt he looked like he was put together by Dr. Frankenstein.The scars, missing dimples of flesh and suture marks a testament to what he had been through. Phil had been blown up, shot, stabbed, you name it.
Exposure to Agent Orange left him in his later years with a blood disorder that sometimes caused the skin where it is thinner such as ear lobes to weep blood. He would say " Fuckin still bleeding in Nam, I guess." In a way, he was.
Emotionally, Phil had a tough time when he tried to settled down. He sometimes fought the demons in his head with alcohol which didnt help him at all. When Phil got the "look" in his eyes I knew those demons were stalking him again .He was cursed with a deep remorse of some of the things he had done or been forced to do.
There were times when he cried, his worst memory being of a shack full of dead children,found when he kicked the door in.
He wouldnt say when or where but from what he told me I think he felt responsible for their deaths.
Having no family, perhaps that is why he always treated and loved my boys like they were his own.
His outer appearance would scare some. Phil looked as dangerous as he really was but that outside shell hid a generous, friendly, caring heart of gold.
He loved dogs too, and dogs loved him. Phil was one of those guys who could walk up to the meanest junk yard dog, whisper to it and within minutes that dog would be his best friend. It was amazing.
So today Im sitting here, drinking a beer and thinking about Phil. I'll toast him, holding my beer to the sky.
"Here's to you buddy. I hope you've found some peace". Oorahh !
I miss him. He was my friend. I'm proud to have known him and I wish he was here with me to help celebrate the day of our nation's independence which he held so dear.
