In the mornings when the busses roll out, our dispatcher will announce information about road closures, accidents, and other general information. Periodically, we get a missing kid or missing elderly alert. Wednesday we got a missing elderly alert for a … Continue reading
Indeed this was the last day of school here at Noloot ISD. A day some parents and/or children are inspired to gift the unsung folks that transport children safely to school and back every day. I carry twenty two unique … Continue reading
Let’s say I drive for the Noloot IDS. Noloot is a pissant Texas town not far from and but a little bit bigger than Paint Creek. An Aggie would say, “I’m from Noloot.” wait for it” Fort Worth is about … Continue reading
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As you get to read me you will get to know me. I am not a secret. I am a very religious man in that I have several….religions. Food: specifically anything cheap, easy, fast, comforting, and slathered with wretched excesses. … Continue reading
Ok. Starting to catch on just a little, a little at a time. I am astonished at the number of comments that I get that are spam. I have figured out how to turn off the comment part of these … Continue reading
Yes I drive a school bus. I feel good about doing so. (see ABOUT). I embrace the fact that folks generally are not crazy about school busses because we are old and in the way and we can stop traffic, when you are in a hurry. What I don’t understand is why do parents, delivering their kids to school SIT in the bus zone and watch their kids while they walk from the car to the door of the school.
It’s bad enough that parents use the bus zone, (you can be ticketed for doing that) but they sit in a mindless thrall while their little princess or prince make their entrance. Get over your kids. Soon they will be in Junior High and you probably won’t like them. You will learn the slow roll delivery method. This is the method of delivery where you will not actually stop or use the bus zone, you will slow the car just enough the girl, you have allowed to dress like an Amsterdam hooker, can get out of your car with out falling down. I saw one mom almost hit her own daughter after she let the daughter out and the daughter walked in front of the mom, who was texting.
Speaking of Texting while driving. I have a bumper sticker that says, “Thank you for texting while you drive. Your local Organ Donor program will make sure your parts will go to folks who need them and are smart enough to not text and drive.”
I am sitting up in the bus. I can see you texting all the time: at lights, on the highway, in the school zone. I am judging you. You are an idiot. Sadly, you will kill someone other than and in addition to your dumb ass.
The Holy Trinity of my belief in Texas. I saw something like this at the Train Station in Fort Worth (my hometown). It was carved into a stone an set into the brickwork there. I am not overly good at puzzles and cryptic shit carved into stone, but this spoke to me fairly quickly as I am Texan pure for at least the three or four generations that came after one or more ancestors were “run out” of Tennessee or Kentucky or West Virginia.
My mother and I went to a Temple of Salt and Grease last Wednesday and I had an offering of CFS. You will note that I didn’t get the gravy on the side. This was a B+ example in that it fell short on size and shape. The example shown is too circular (round connotes a third dimension. Balls are round.*). I prefer non- semetricle as symmetry indicates too much time for kitchen management. Size: An A CFS is “as big as your face.” I have actually covered my face with one once several decades ago, but I had poured a number of beers down my throat before I decided to do that. At age 39 (May 86) I noticed a direct correlation between beer and actualization of bad ideas. I have not had any since. Yes, I miss the beer and the ability to sing Louie Louie anywhere, but thanks to quitting I have been able to squander a small fortune on my hoarding hobby. Like I always say, they don’t pull you over for fat driving.
* Joke: Caveat: If you are a Yankee, and not at least a baby boomer, or you never went to visit relatives, down-home (not the city) and didn’t share a meal cooked there, you won’t get the joke as this is some esoteric shit. If you are southern or southwestern, at least a baby boomer with a strong rural connection during childhood and had a meal at granny and paw paw’s, then you will get the joke and have a good nostalgic laugh and maybe get a lump in your throat and a tear in your eye, do-da all the live long day. Here goes:
Having gone off to A&M, (any college will work here, I just happen to love the Aggie thing) the oldest son returns home for Christmas. At dinner Pappy says, “Boy, tell us what you learned at school.” Thoughtfully, the son leans in to the attention of those surrounding the dinner table and says, ” Pi r squared.” The family is nonplussed: embarrassed to a stony silence. Pappy says, “Can we get that fifty dollars tuition** back? ” The oldest nods his head no and Pappy continues, ” Well, we done wasted good money because any fool knows that cornbread are square, and pie are round. rimshot1
**When I went to college, Texas, tuition was $50 dollars a SEMESTER regardless of the number of hours you were insane enough to take: 3 hrs 21 hrs. This was at ANY state college up to and including Texas University, which is the excrable term that Aggies use to nominate The University of Texas. The courses were hard, the teachers were mean as hell and didn’t give two shits if you passed or failed and went to VietNam to die for your country. Plus, this was BEFORE air conditioning. agj
Thought One: Ask Google if there is a business that cleans cat boxes
Thought Two: Would I want someone who “likes” cleaning the cat box in my house, even my house. Seriously?
Promise to self: Ban the above use of the word “seriously”, as doing so belies the fact that when I went to school (before air conditioning) school was difficult, on purpose. While I was there I learned how to read, write, do arithmetic. Plus, I learned how to write readable cursive. Amazing. Quite a bit more than most of the doofuses who will graduate at the end of the month, then slouch off to school for a nice degree in Independent Studies from an over priced College or University.
This is Coco. I am her boy. I let her pee anywhere she wants to pee.
If this face doesn’t melt your heart then somebody should investigate your background.
I am planning to spend my kids inheritance, all seventeen dollars, on Coco.
For the first time ever I made a comment posting that wasn’t my politically wonky bullshit in response to some other asshole’s politically wonky bullshit.
Thanks to TheBloggess.com who has up some seriously funny shit that I am convinced has saved my life. Wow. I need a nap.