I like them set of headlights with the highbeams on more Jon!!!
hev
Hobo Jungle
San,
Is that your head now?
My wife's family homesteaded Martin Canyon in Bonita, AZ. San's photo of calf fries looks like her uncle's description of round-ups. They would brand the calves and make steers out of the baby bulls. The parts removed would be fried on the branding iron pot, as shown in Sans photo. The part of the story I liked to hear over and over was about driving the cattle down to Wilcox for auction. From auction, some took a trip to the slaughter house via Southern Pacific railroad.
Caleb, Walter Jr. Walter Sr.
Is that your head now?
My wife's family homesteaded Martin Canyon in Bonita, AZ. San's photo of calf fries looks like her uncle's description of round-ups. They would brand the calves and make steers out of the baby bulls. The parts removed would be fried on the branding iron pot, as shown in Sans photo. The part of the story I liked to hear over and over was about driving the cattle down to Wilcox for auction. From auction, some took a trip to the slaughter house via Southern Pacific railroad.
Caleb, Walter Jr. Walter Sr.
----Wayne----
Back when I was growing up, if you didn't start someth'n, there wouldn't be noth'n.
--Merle Haggard
Back when I was growing up, if you didn't start someth'n, there wouldn't be noth'n.
--Merle Haggard
That's the first time I've seen San looking slightly disconcerted.
Wayne, here's something on the cow-bull theme:
“Still not too bad,” he said. “And I don’t see any bulldozers—that’s a good sign. You stay dry. It won’t take me a minute.” Out across the blackness to the west, lightning began to ignite the distant horizon, the rumble of the thunder like dark laughter through a broken radio. He popped the trunk and busied himself with the tent, his thoughts madly on her naked body. Something wrong with her? My God! Gabrielle had been like a marble statue compared with Pam. And she’d been so understanding about what had happened to him, so forgiving. He’d last an hour tonight—she’d see. No more thirty seconds for him ever again.
He was leaning over, tightening the rain fly when she yelled. “Neal! Look.” He straightened. About fifteen feet away stood an enormous buffalo. It snorted loudly. He leapt for the car and locked himself in.
“Thanks for the warning. Damn that was close.” He cautiously lowered the window and examined the beast, his heart thumping. She sat holding her toothbrush, staring at him with a stunned expression. He looked at the buffalo again. The largest animal he’d ever seen was an elephant at a zoo, but this behemoth seemed bigger, the horns menacing.
“What should we do? Drive off?” he said, reaching for the key. It was imperative to be ready.
“Huh? . . . what are you talking about?”
It seemed damn clear. “We better drive off. Forget the tent. We can always get another tent. Close your door, will you! It might come around to that side.”
“Neal?”
“You think it will charge the car?”
“Don’t think so.”
“You don’t?”
“Naw.”
What was wrong with her? She was obviously being completely careless about the danger. He wondered if it could tip over the car if it charged. The Rambler was pretty light. “What do you know about buffaloes?”
She giggled. “That’s not a buffalo.”
“No? What is it then?”
“Just a Black Angus.”
Whatever it was, it was still glaring at him. “So, what do you think we should do?”
“Go out there and yell at it. It should wander off. Wave your arms and shout.”
“You got to be kidding.”
“Just show you’re not afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“What do you think?—it’s going to bite you?”
Gored was what he had in mind. He realized she expected him to go out there. Women hated cowards. He thought it over. The damn bull hadn’t moved; it just glowered. “Pam, are you sure?”
“Oh, just go on.”
If she was so sure, why didn’t she go out there? He should never have told that old lady on the plane that he was a bull rider. This was his karma for lying, he saw that right away. He inched the door open, trying to recall everything he’d ever heard about bull fighting. All he remembered was that you needed a red cape. Damn—he should’ve asked Pam for that blouse. At least he wasn’t wearing red. He approached the bull, his legs lead. He tried not to feel or smell afraid; he knew animals could sense that stuff. At twelve feet away he froze. The bull snorted again, and he almost ran for the car. Manhood—sent to grapple with one Attila or another as women waited for the victorious return. He couldn’t seem to do anything for a few minutes. How bad did being gored hurt? Infection was probably the fatal part. If he got antibiotics soon enough he might make it. Shit—they were in the middle of nowhere. The bull glared from the darkness. Neal wished he knew what it was thinking. He whittled the distance with pathetically delicate steps, ready to bolt when it charged. At six feet he felt as if he was leaning on the horns. His eyes were stuck on the points of the goddamn things. It had to be now or he’d never be able to do it. She better be right about this. He roared, flailed his arms, beat his chest—being far more menacing than what had scared off the Grand Junction punks. The bull dropped its massive head and bit calmly at a clump of grass. Neal backed up and sat beside Pam, who was in hysterics, gulping for air.
“I think—you’ve made—a friend. Really—I do. Honest. I think she—likes you.”
“She?”
Pam nodded emphatically, unable to speak.
“What do mean, she?”
It took her a moment. “I already told you it was a cow.”
“A cow? Oh sure”—he finally had her cornered—“then why does it have horns?”
“Some cows have ‘em.”
That’s not a bull?”
She shook her head.
“Oh, come, on.”
“Neal—who grew up on a farm?”
“Cows have horns?”
“Some do.”
“Fock.”
Wayne, here's something on the cow-bull theme:
“Still not too bad,” he said. “And I don’t see any bulldozers—that’s a good sign. You stay dry. It won’t take me a minute.” Out across the blackness to the west, lightning began to ignite the distant horizon, the rumble of the thunder like dark laughter through a broken radio. He popped the trunk and busied himself with the tent, his thoughts madly on her naked body. Something wrong with her? My God! Gabrielle had been like a marble statue compared with Pam. And she’d been so understanding about what had happened to him, so forgiving. He’d last an hour tonight—she’d see. No more thirty seconds for him ever again.
He was leaning over, tightening the rain fly when she yelled. “Neal! Look.” He straightened. About fifteen feet away stood an enormous buffalo. It snorted loudly. He leapt for the car and locked himself in.
“Thanks for the warning. Damn that was close.” He cautiously lowered the window and examined the beast, his heart thumping. She sat holding her toothbrush, staring at him with a stunned expression. He looked at the buffalo again. The largest animal he’d ever seen was an elephant at a zoo, but this behemoth seemed bigger, the horns menacing.
“What should we do? Drive off?” he said, reaching for the key. It was imperative to be ready.
“Huh? . . . what are you talking about?”
It seemed damn clear. “We better drive off. Forget the tent. We can always get another tent. Close your door, will you! It might come around to that side.”
“Neal?”
“You think it will charge the car?”
“Don’t think so.”
“You don’t?”
“Naw.”
What was wrong with her? She was obviously being completely careless about the danger. He wondered if it could tip over the car if it charged. The Rambler was pretty light. “What do you know about buffaloes?”
She giggled. “That’s not a buffalo.”
“No? What is it then?”
“Just a Black Angus.”
Whatever it was, it was still glaring at him. “So, what do you think we should do?”
“Go out there and yell at it. It should wander off. Wave your arms and shout.”
“You got to be kidding.”
“Just show you’re not afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“What do you think?—it’s going to bite you?”
Gored was what he had in mind. He realized she expected him to go out there. Women hated cowards. He thought it over. The damn bull hadn’t moved; it just glowered. “Pam, are you sure?”
“Oh, just go on.”
If she was so sure, why didn’t she go out there? He should never have told that old lady on the plane that he was a bull rider. This was his karma for lying, he saw that right away. He inched the door open, trying to recall everything he’d ever heard about bull fighting. All he remembered was that you needed a red cape. Damn—he should’ve asked Pam for that blouse. At least he wasn’t wearing red. He approached the bull, his legs lead. He tried not to feel or smell afraid; he knew animals could sense that stuff. At twelve feet away he froze. The bull snorted again, and he almost ran for the car. Manhood—sent to grapple with one Attila or another as women waited for the victorious return. He couldn’t seem to do anything for a few minutes. How bad did being gored hurt? Infection was probably the fatal part. If he got antibiotics soon enough he might make it. Shit—they were in the middle of nowhere. The bull glared from the darkness. Neal wished he knew what it was thinking. He whittled the distance with pathetically delicate steps, ready to bolt when it charged. At six feet he felt as if he was leaning on the horns. His eyes were stuck on the points of the goddamn things. It had to be now or he’d never be able to do it. She better be right about this. He roared, flailed his arms, beat his chest—being far more menacing than what had scared off the Grand Junction punks. The bull dropped its massive head and bit calmly at a clump of grass. Neal backed up and sat beside Pam, who was in hysterics, gulping for air.
“I think—you’ve made—a friend. Really—I do. Honest. I think she—likes you.”
“She?”
Pam nodded emphatically, unable to speak.
“What do mean, she?”
It took her a moment. “I already told you it was a cow.”
“A cow? Oh sure”—he finally had her cornered—“then why does it have horns?”
“Some cows have ‘em.”
That’s not a bull?”
She shook her head.
“Oh, come, on.”
“Neal—who grew up on a farm?”
“Cows have horns?”
“Some do.”
“Fock.”
LMAO.
Tramp, I think I have met all of your characters.
I find Neal believable because I met someone like Neal.
This Neal told me that the bulls were pregnant cows.
I told him that they were bulls.
He assured me that he knew what he was talking about.
They were wide because they were pregnant.
And, “what did I think that was hanging between the cow’s legs?”
The world is full of Neals.
Tramp, I think I have met all of your characters.
I find Neal believable because I met someone like Neal.
This Neal told me that the bulls were pregnant cows.
I told him that they were bulls.
He assured me that he knew what he was talking about.
They were wide because they were pregnant.
And, “what did I think that was hanging between the cow’s legs?”
The world is full of Neals.
----Wayne----
Back when I was growing up, if you didn't start someth'n, there wouldn't be noth'n.
--Merle Haggard
Back when I was growing up, if you didn't start someth'n, there wouldn't be noth'n.
--Merle Haggard
Tramp,Your story/novel.Is it published or is it an on-going creation?Does it have a title?I have found sections of it in various parts of MTJ and am curios about it.What I have read has been fun to read.Maybe its all abig put-on.I dont care.It has been fun,I hope it keeps coming. roger
roger
I support thread drift.
If God didn't want women to be looked at, He would have made 'em ugly. RAH
I support thread drift.
If God didn't want women to be looked at, He would have made 'em ugly. RAH
Roger, I've written 3 novels so I suppose it's confusing when I put up brief selections from them. I'm trying to stop because they don't have much to do with trains except for a few sections. (Did you read any of the train related ones?) I'm usually kind of drunk when I post the bits so please forgive me. Glad they were worth a laugh.
Tramp, No one has really ever asked for a posting. I'll give it a try here. 
Thunder and Lightening. Enter three witches.
First Witch:
When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightening, or The Absortion Spectrum?
Second Witch:
When the hurlyburly's done,
I choose the place of waved particle dualty.
Third Witch:
That will be ere the set of sun.
My photons are scattering!
All
Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
Hover the Pauli exclusion principle,
And be where the doped semiconductors!!
SCENE II. A camp near Forres.
DUNCAN:
What bloody man is that with two slit diffraction and valence bonds?
MALCOM:
This is the sergeant
Who like a good and hardy soldier fought complex atoms!!!
Thunder and Lightening. Enter three witches.
First Witch:
When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightening, or The Absortion Spectrum?
Second Witch:
When the hurlyburly's done,
I choose the place of waved particle dualty.
Third Witch:
That will be ere the set of sun.
My photons are scattering!
All
Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
Hover the Pauli exclusion principle,
And be where the doped semiconductors!!
SCENE II. A camp near Forres.
DUNCAN:
What bloody man is that with two slit diffraction and valence bonds?
MALCOM:
This is the sergeant
Who like a good and hardy soldier fought complex atoms!!!
Running that red block Charlie.
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