The Goat Pen

I drive a 2003 model car with 250K+ miles on it...

To this guy, that's new. He might not even have seen your car. It could be the car of a wealthy businessman from Mount Pilot who stopped to ask directions. In his mind, that car was yours.

His wife died years back, you know? While farming didn't kill her, her consumption certainly wasn't eased by the hardscrabble life he provided her. His memory of her illness will always be haunted by that Christmas that the money was too scant to get her medicine on time and the guilt from that delay twists his mind in regret. But the money counters and the bankers, the grain speculators and the pretty boys, well, they never seemed to suffer. No, sir, just the opposite. They sat there shuffling papers and making small talk and yucking and smirking while their shiny new cars waited patiently outside to whisk them away to barbecue lunches and all other manner of finery.

No, these men were part and parcel to his sweet Mable's death and they needed to pay; they are going to pay, and he will make damned certain of that.

^That.

(and I'm thinking more Coen brothers than Lynch)

He closed the well-worn Bible after reading scripture for inspiration. He had asked Him for a sign and when he grabbed the Good Book from the glovebox of his Dodge Apache, it had fallen open to Deuteronomy 32:35, just like an invisible hand had found the page:

'Vengeance is Mine, and retribution, In due time their foot will slip; For the day of their calamity is near, And the impending things are hastening upon them."

"Yes," he whispered. "It's clear now."

When he saw the paper-shuffler, Sam, make his way toward the door, he chose his steps carefully and crept up behind him in-betwixt the fancy new cars without making a sound. Years of hunting to get turkey and deer from the field to the table had made him savvy to how how the crunch of rock or rustle of leaves would spook your quarry. The knife found Sam's kidney, then his liver, then his neck, and he whispered, "shhhh," like a mother soothing a crying baby as he eased him to the ground.

Through the entrance where wood paneling and a calendar turned to the wrong month surrounded desks and boxes of papers, he found the boss. The man who had gaffawed and mumbled when asked about making a living off the sweat of others' toil so many months previous.

The boss' eyes widened as he pleaded, "You don't have to do this! Please! I have money!"

Money didn't matter anymore, though. No amount could bring back Mable. No, this was a reckoning, and this debt couldn't be paid with anything less than blood.

crotch wrote:One word......Castration

http://www.wymt.com/content/news/West-V ... 09061.html

Update on this story....

http://www.tristateupdate.com/story/333 ... -assaulted

AlabamAlum wrote:He closed the well-worn Bible after reading scripture for inspiration. He had asked Him for a sign and when he grabbed the Good Book from the glovebox of his Dodge Apache, it had fallen open to Deuteronomy 32:35, just like an invisible hand had found the page:

'Vengeance is Mine, and retribution, In due time their foot will slip; For the day of their calamity is near, And the impending things are hastening upon them."

"Yes," he whispered. "It's clear now."

When he saw the paper-shuffler, Sam, make his way toward the door, he chose his steps carefully and crept up behind him in-betwixt the fancy new cars without making a sound. Years of hunting to get turkey and deer from the field to the table had made him savvy to how how the crunch of rock or rustle of leaves would spook your quarry. The knife found Sam's kidney, then his liver, then his neck, and he whispered, "shhhh," like a mother soothing a crying baby as he eased him to the ground.

Through the entrance where wood paneling and a calendar turned to the wrong month surrounded desks and boxes of papers, he found the boss. The man who had gaffawed and mumbled when asked about making a living off the sweat of others' toil so many months previous.

The boss' eyes widened as he pleaded, "You don't have to do this! Please! I have money!"

Money didn't matter anymore, though. No amount could bring back Mable. No, this was a reckoning, and this debt couldn't be paid with anything less than blood.

Personally, it's a little too bad ass on the kill of Sam. I was thinking more along the lines of Sam meeting him at the door (slightly startled because he was leaving for the day) and giving a genial greeting to the returning patron, then a moment of confusion as the swinging of the blade (swifter than what Sam would have expected from a man of his age) hit its mark...then followed by fear and a scream stifled by the severed windpipe.

hedge wrote:Dude just brought a load of corn in here. Looked kinda crazy. Apropos nothing, he says "Ya'll do this for a living?" I said "Yeah, as far as I know." Then he jerked his chin towards Sam (who was working on tickets over at his desk) and says "What about him?" I said "Yeah." Then he said "Ya'll drive new cars?" I mumbled something and sent him to dump his corn. It was like something out of a David Lynch movie...

The correct response would have been to spit and sneer "Ain't much of a living..."

You might have had a chance of surviving.

Actually, I think the dude was just autistic...

What? He a painter or a sculptor or something?

Sam seems to have a touch of Asberger's or something too. I think these two would actually get along well...

Hopefully

Tim Dunn just came by. He said his diddy told him that the cow paisture on the other side of Pinetops flooded...

[youtube]0hOhlbfNPRM[/youtube]

my wife and I had a 4 day weekend and took off to Northern Michigan that I talked about earlier on here. Beautiful country if you get the chance

Broke off of I-75 and went thru some small towns in Ohio. We refuse to eat at any chains when we travel - I had scoped out a Tastee Twirl in Rockford, Ohio but when we got there they had closed down for the season. I was dejected because it looked like we were going to have to settle for eating in the larger city of Fort Wayne.

I pretty much got an erection when I saw this place in the middle of nowhere - The Willshire Drive In


There must have been a dairy or pig farm close by because there was a serious cow shit stench in the air. I didn't care - We parked and sat at the picnic table in the front. I got a burger basket with coleslaw, my wife got fried pickles and a southwest chicken burger (chicken sandwich with jalapenos and salsa). An old farmer came up to the drive thru and got a sundae, and a tree trimming crew showed up after that to get banana splits.

As far as I was concerned it was the perfect start to a vacation.

That place isn't the Willshire Drive In, that place is America

oh, and I was not impressed with Fort Wayne.

Hedge...... what you folks drinking down there in NC that causes you'all to live so long...

http://nevo.news/index.php/2016/08/18/n ... ge-of-110/

Happy 113th Birthday Curley Howard.....

Your gratification at outliving one of your coevals is palpable...

crotch wrote:Hedge...... what you folks drinking down there in NC that causes you'all to live so long...

http://nevo.news/index.php/2016/08/18/n ... ge-of-110/

"And it gets worse. Two voters — and, yes, they’ve already voted in early voting — are over 150! One in Gaston County is 154 and another in Granville County is an astonishing 160!

This isn’t necessarily evidence of vote theft. It could be a massively failed voter registration system."

Hmmm, let's see. In 2012, over 4.5 million votes were cast in North Carolina in the presidential election. Now they have found 2 bogus early votes and cite that as evidence of a "massively failed" voter registration system. Even if you count all the registered voters over the age of 112 in the article (631 registered as democrats and 229 registered as republicans), that would still only account for less than 0.02% of the votes cast in 2012 by North Carolinians. I suspect most of these folks are dead and just haven't been deleted from the rolls yet and that no vote was cast for the vast majority of them. But it's good to see the Trumpsters gathering evidence of massive voter fraud already...

In any case, never fear, Crotch. No one is going to question the legitimacy of your vote this November, even though you fall in the upper end of the range...

Ima google this, but if you had to say, what's the difference b/w a grill and a griddle?

Griddle is a flat surface that gets heated, like a pan. Grill has openings to the heat, like a grate surface.