Badger Mountain Charlie SASS #43172

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Now that richt there is FUNNY.

Well, Widder, two out of three ain't bad.

Love it.

As Will Rogers said: "There are two ways to deal with a woman; but neither one works".

I know, I grew up in the Southern end of the State. Things were the same in 1940's and '50s.

Why would you do that? But then again, why would you pay more for lean hamburger, when you can get a higher fat content in less expensive hamburger. Fat makes the burger juicier. I suppose if you ate a dozen burgers every day, there would be a valid reason, but other than quantity, I can see no reason for BMC to change.

I understand the (Rioters) decided to take their road show from urban Seattle and Bellevue, to the small mill town of Snohomish. BUT when they got there they found the residents standing around, ARMED, protecting their town. Strange thing is, the (rioters) moved on and did no damage. Strange how that happened.

J-Bar, just 'cause ole Jack was such a great partner. He was a rescue dog, found wandering the streets of Everett, Washington. We had had several dogs, all dearly loved, but were between. The girls were grown and had left the nest, and Gloria was left with just me. So I am sitting on the floor, leaning against the hearth seat, watching the idiot box. Gloria was doing something girly in her chair, and she suddenly announces, " We need a dog! " Where did that come from, I thought? So the next day, off to P.A.W.S. we go. She had shopped on line and found one she was interested in looking over. It was a small lap type dog. Well the pup in question showed no interest and was busy playing as pups will do. So she decided to look further. Being at loose ends, I walked around the corner, and there he was, lying in the corner of his pen in abject misery. Seems he had recently been nuetered, had kennel cough and was in a bad way. He looked up at me with hope in his eye. There was another couple looking at him also. The man said " What about this one? " She replied, " He is awfully big! " and they moved on. I called Gloria over and we had the same conversation. Meanwhile ole Jack got up and walked over to the wire and LOOKED INTO MY SOUL! Well, we did the paper work, and ole Jack had a bounce in his step as we went to the car. No way I was leaving without him.

All that could be changed with an honest ballot.

Perhaps a PROTECTED life

Kind of a slow day at the Badger spread, so I went back in time, when my partner, Captain Jack and myself, would go after the mail, when it was delivered. Captain Jack was a black Lab/Border collie mix, and Lord only knows what I am. Anyway, Jack had a stick that he always carried with him on our journey. Peculiar thing though, about half way to the mail box, Jack would drop the stick next to the roadway, and mark it so he could find it on his way back. Well, marking the trail didn't workout too well, because there would be several sticks that were similar and Jack couldn't tell the difference until he got home and examined it. Then he would abandon the fake stick and I had to find him a new one. So one day I took a piece of doweling that was about 1" stock, and whacked off a chunk about 12" long. That stick was his and he cherished it. He would lie in the sun with the stick in the grass next to him, and dream doggie dreams. When I would tell him it was time to get the mail, he would be frantic until he located his stick. Once found, he would grasp it firmly and prance down the road like a potentate, head and tail high. Half way down the lane, drop the stick, mark it, and on to the mail box. Everything was wonderful until one day when he went to mark the spot, his aim was off and he hit the stick full on. On the way back, he went to retrieved his stick and somebody had fouled it. So he abandoned it and proceeded homeward with head and tail down. I had to retrieve it and wash it off. When I offered it to him, he sniffed it, sniffed again, accepted and proceeded to take it back to his grassy spot and tenderly put it in the grass, ready for the next trip. I MISS THAT CRITTER.

Well, I gotta say, Moxie is hard stuff alright. Once was enough for me. ED: I would describe the taste more like used crankcase lubricant. I have never tasted used crankcase lubricant, but I can imagine it would taste a great deal similar to MOXIE.

I think I am missing something here. But that is not unusual for me.

So true.

YELLOWSTONE COMES TO MIND, PAT. But that coffee thing, that Joe mentioned earlier, really has me worried.

NOT TO WORRY, PAT! GOOGLE WILL TELL YOU WHERE TO GO. READ RIGHT UP!

OK, You are off the hook.

Pat, I think the old look was better. But then I am no expert.

God speed. Good Luck. My best wishes for you Father and your self.

I didn't see any 2 band Enfields in that whole narrative.

I noticed that also.

I miss Shelby.

My prayers are in the game.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SCHOOLMARM. Hope you enjoy every second of it. Backwater, you take that sweet lady out for a nice dinner, or I'll put a hex on you. You have been warned. BMC

I am also a big fan of Ben Johnson, i.e. Corporal Tyree. Ben just fit the bill of Cowboy/pony soldier in my book.