Saturday, November 28, 2009

Clems Thanksgivin Lessen

Sittin on the front porch readin the paper, drinkin my coffee and waitin on Clem to come by with the mail, wavin at the people on their way to work.
I'm a just sittin here a thinkin bout whut all these folk is in a hurry bout.

Seems to me that the closer it gits to Christmas, the crazier them damned people drives. They drive so fast and weave in n out, hell you'd think they was all on go-carts or sumthin.

Clem, shows up with mail, goes inside and gits a cup of coffee, and we comence to talkin. He went to his brothers for thanksgivin, down at the ole family place and all, and he was full of news.
His mommas place, was in bad need of repair, and his damned brother, lazy ole cuss, wouldn't even fix the ole stairs goin up the back porch.

So, Clem decided, he'd fix up a few things while he was there. He went out and bought some paint, and brushes, some lumber to fix the back porch and all. He got it done and was walkin round to admire his handi work, when this big ole cur dog, come runnin into the yard. Hell, scared the pee outta him, so bad, he had to wring out his socks.

He went back up to the house and asked his brother, Jimmy, "how long these here ole wild dogs been a runnin up in here."
He said "bout a couple months now, they been runnin in a pack outta them ole woods. Ever since ole man Landry moved and the fence felled down, they been acomin up this a way ever since."

Well, hell, Jimmy, "Why haven't you fixed that damn fence then?"
Now, Jimmy is a big ole boy, Clems' baby brother and all, just lazy and a little slow mostly.
Clem, says "alrighty then, this a here is whut we are a gonna do."
"I'm gonna paint the front of the house, while you start puttin up the fece post. I'll go git all the stuff, lay it out show you where ever thing goes and all. I'll be back in about an hour with all the fencin stuff".

When Clem gits back, he takes Jimmy round the yard, he sets a bag of concrete where ever post should go and marks it with that orange markin paint.
Tells Jimmy "ever where you see these here orange marks, you dig a hole and bury a post, when you git em all done. I'll come back and put up the runners and you and I will hang this here fence."

So, Clem goes to the front of the house and start the paintin, he gits the front painted and don't hear nuthin from Jimmy. Sos he commences paintin, the north side of the house, gits it almost done, then spots Jimmy sittin on the front porch.

"Jimmy, You got them fence post ready yet", Clem yelled
"Yep, just waitin on you now," he says.
Clem climbs down the ladder, goes and gits the compressor out, sends Jimmy, after the air hose and nail gun.
He goes round to the back to git started.

"Jimmy, what  the hell, wheres them posts at, thought you done had ever thing  ready here."

Jimmy, yells back, "it is ready, I'll be there in just a minute."

Jimmy comes walkin back, with the nail gun and the air hose, and asks Clem, where he wants em.
"Well, I'd a want em by the first post, iffin I could find it."

"Well. hell, its right here, where you said to start." Jimmy said.
"Where the hell are they then," Clem asks?

"Well hell, your a standin on em right now," Jimmy says," right next to them sacks of concrete.
Right there where yo tole me to bury em, I buried all of em, bout, sixteen to eighteen inches down, and they is ready for that concrete now.

Man you could just see the redness wellin up in ole Clem eyes, Mr. Bob , that derned fool actually buried all them damn post, and thought that was they way its spose to be, hell, he didn't even leave a nub outta the ground to nail to.

Alls I could do was laff and ask, "sos how did you hang them fence pickets", just couldn;t hep my self.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

"2012" You Gotta Be Kiddin Me

So the world is gonna end, man this is really upsettin to this here ole man.
I do have trouble believin it though.
And heres why.

Searches related to: prophecies of end of world
nostradamus prophecies end of world
bible prophecy end of world
jehovah's witnesses prophecies
prophecies kali yuga
prophecies of armageddon
prophecies end world 2012
prophecies of jesus christ
mayan prophecies end wor
Nostradamus, now if this ole boy knew so much, why didn't he write a survival book like ever one else.
Bible prophecy, ever time one them guys says it gonna end, they just go somewhere and drink that posion kool-aid.
Jehovah's witness, man them schwinn bike guys will lose too much business.
Lali Yuga, hell I thought this was the guy from Star Wars, that little guy was just too funny to know anything more than what the dark side guys were gonna do.
Armegeddon, well I never been there but I heard the beer was warm, so I said the hell with that.
2012, don't even go there that bar done burned down, bunch of years ago.
Jesus, now I know he never said no such, he was havin enuff truble with that deciple gang of his as it as was.
Mayans, now this one was really funny, ain't never even seen one of their calenders, and I heard their women were real ugly. Have you ever heard of a Mayan Fire Fighter, so. how the hell, they even gonna put a clendar together.

Then here comes all the books.
What  the hell, by the time most people would get around to readin em the meteors would be a fallin no way.
 They got groups, sayin the date too. They are sayin, December 21, 2012, now how foolish can that be, you'd think they would at least make it black friday or sumthin. Not just a couple days before Christmas.

Now can you just imagine the rush at Walmart, talk about needin crowd control.
The manager lookin in the parkin lot, sees a kazillion people, and its only the 20th, and they all want refunds, cause their kids won't be able to play with any this here stuff.

Back to the books, if the world is gonna blow up any way, what you spose to do with the damn books, stuff em like a turkey? Hell, grab your ankles and insert book.

Who are these guys in these groups no way, bunch a guys that are outta shape and have no hair, most of em I've seen any way, they are just a hopin and a wishin.

Well I ain't gonna talk bout this no more today, gotta go and open a dooms day beer, maybe even more.
I guess i best git to writin a survival post, before this computer shuts down, like it was suppose to in 1999.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

New Deck Hand Helps Calibrate Radar Mr. Bob Style/ The Fun Times

This was pre-accident

It was just a routine day, we were just doing a routine operation.

We headed to the rig, about one hundred thirty miles off shore, on board we had their supplies for their daily activities.
We had two new crew members that had never been off shore before, one deck hand and one cook.
This is always fun.

Going out, it is calm and fair weather, every thing goes smoothly.
We get to the rig, tie up, and off load their supplies.
We are requested to stay over, so that they may off load some unneeded and spent materials, cool, fishing will commence immediately.

This rig has a very nice tie up spot for fishing, and god knows I like to FISH.
We break out the fishing gear and start fishing.
We make poola bags, these are chum bags attached to the bottom of your line, you yank hard, they open with bait, and the fish attack the bait.

The snapper is biting like crazy, we each catch many pounds of snapper.
Word comes, we are being released from the rig, damn, the fishing is just too good to want to leave.

The trip back is a little bumpy, not bad, but for guys that have never been out before, you would think we are in the "perfect storm", I can't help my self, being an old salt, I start the prank, and tease mode.

I walk up to the new deck hand, I have a glass of raw eggs and milk. I down it all in one big gulp.OOPS. sorry new guy, I didn't mean to make you sick. (snicker snicker) sorry.
I guess I'll fust have to finish off these sardine and peanut sandwiches by my self, (snicker snicker) sorry.

The captain sees what is going on, he removes me to the wheel house, to take the wheel, for the remaining, trip back to the dock. I am still snickering, get to sit in the wheelhouse chair and relax all the way in.
The new deck hand, comes into the wheelhouse to see how I am doing.
I apologize for making him sick and all, he feels better, and I show him all the equipment.

We have a gps, radar equipment,even auto pilot. He is really impressed. I explain to him how at times the radar goes a little hay wire, and has to be adjusted at times.
I ask him if he will help me calibrate the radar when we get in, I explain that it is a two man operation, and if we get it calibrated, the captain will let us fish longer the next time we go out.

This guy loves to fish.

We get back to the dock, get everything secured, and get some rest.
This new guy keeps bugging me about calibrating the radar, today is Saturday, and I'm wanting to watch the ball games, we will do it tomorrow before the games begin I tall him it is better to do it early in the morning before every one at the docks get on their radios, much less interference that way.

The next morning, every one, all the other vessels are, tied up tight, at the dock.
I get the new guy to help me calibrate the radar.
He is really excited, and I get him all prepared, and I position him on the back deck.
I yell at the other hands, on the other vessels to please stay off their radios for a few minutes, as the new guy and I are about to calibrate the radar for our vessel. They all wave, and agree, they just hang out to watch.

I go to the upper deck in the wheel house, get on the loud speaker so the new guy can hear the commands.
Ok, "go to the middle of the stern, place your hands over your head, walk from pot to starboard, do this three times, slowly, then stop at the center."

The new guy does this procedure flawlessly.
Great I say" now one more time , a little faster, and walk up to the engine stacks then return to the stern."
The fellows on the other vessels are whistling and giving encouragement the whole time.

We did this for about five minutes, and I told the new guy, "great job.I believe we got it"
The captain was up now and wanted to know what was going on.
The new guy, was all excited that we had the radar calibrated and gushed out to the captain what he had helped get accomplished.

Well, ole Cap, just burst out in laughter, he said,"yes I know I was watching the whole thing from the galley." Then said, "well son I guess you wre just initiated right proper, we never calibrate the radar that way, especially all wrapped up in aluminum foil, with a pan on top of our heads, and holding a clothes hanges in both hands."

But I am sure you will be the talk at the docks for the next couple of days, Byford, I need to talk with you.

Damn, I wish U-Tube would have been available then.
I have also started this  thread on  face book!/group.php?gid=116719855035371

Sunday, November 15, 2009

A Tribute To The Weathervanes' Miss Rae



This is my personal journal of random thoughts, perspectives, and nostalgic memories. I am a grandmother, wife, and retired RN. I was born and raised in the Midwest. My main focus in life is family and my yellow Lab.


On Fridays at my other site, plainolebob2, on blogspot, we hand out the "Hot Dawg" blogger award.
You may have noticed that this award is dedicated to Miss Rae.
I felt like this would be as good a time as any to tell you why.

I only know Miss Rae, through blogging on blogger.
She is the reason that I even blog, I almost quit before I got started.

I started blogging because a friend suggested that I should.
I was having terrible nightmares due to an accident that killed the fellow standing next to me. For years I have had nightmares about this accident, and blogging may be the release that I needed, as it turned out, it was.

When I first started, I was reluctant to write about it, I goofed around in the coffee shop at the google help forum.
I started following a blogger, Bruce Coltin at if you have ever read anything at his site you will undestand why.
Bruce Coltin started this thread, Do you just follow blogs, or do you also read them?

On this thread he made mention of Miss Raes' site," if you would like to read more on the subject of just following blogs vs. reading blogs, please go to Rae summarizes the opinions expressed in this discussion, and states her own purpose for blogging. Rae knows how to write. You really should take a look."

This really piqued my interest, so, I went and checked her out.
I was truly thinking at this time, that blogging was not for me.
It was the inspiration that I needed at the time, to write about the accident, and my feelings.

So, THANK-YOU,  Miss Rae, it is because of you that I am still blogging to this day. that I have met so many of your beautiful and glorious bloggers. It is because of you that there is a "Hot Dawg" blogger award, and if it is from the inspiration of that post, that I wrote about my accident and was freed from my nightmares.

I will always be grateful to you, and I reall want every one that visits my site to know why I hold you in such high esteem.

Your biggest blogging fan, 
Bob Byford

Please read the thread listed at the bottom of Miss Raes' post
and her post that kept me writing.
You just may gain a new perspective of the blogging family.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

"Oldies And I Hope Goodies" Plus One For Mike

Well thought I would do a little edit and re-run of my more infamous post from quite some time ago. due to the power from the flooding and all I decided I needed to put up a post in case this thing coming into the gulf brings so much rain that it really makes this river rise,  we may be with out power for a while.
Kinda in limbo right now, power for a time then no power, a yo-yo effect, I wonder if that would work like a wind mill, one big yo-yo, just kiddin Mike.

Any way I hope you all enjoy these old post, Clem is plannin a travel itenerairy or however you say it, wikk let you know soon. You know how Clem is.

First un-edited re-run
Sitting on the front porch drinking my coffee, reading the paper, must be round 6:30am by nowI notice the traffic is picking up. Time to move a little closer so I can wave at everybody on their way to work. Reading the paper and I come across this here ad { WANTED YOUR OLD NEWSPAPERS.........WILL PAY 50cents PER POUND........BRING TO OLD HWY 71 NORTH.....ACROSS FROM OLD CHEATUMS TRUCK STOP}

Now here I was reading this ad thinking what kinda fool would pay that price for old news papers. When all of a sudden this big ole truck, painted a god ugly green, pulls up and dumps out the biggest stack of newspapers youd ever saw and kept bringing more. Now I'm not easily riled but this youngun was droppin papers on my favorite daisy bed. I yelled out at him hey fool git them papers offen my daisies. He said yessir where you want em. I said hell I don't care if you put em up your....... but git em off my daisies. Now about this time, some old lady, and I can say old lady being an ole coot myself, you know one them blue haired old ladies, with them ugly, half up to your knees sox on or hose, whatever they are. She gits out and starts unloading them papers too, by this time I'm gettin the picture, that ole fool in the paper ad, had my address on it and these people were bringing me all them papers. Hell soon there was more than a hunderd of em gettin mad and everything, thinkin I'm gonna pay em 50cents a pound for all them papers, hell I had to git my shot gun out just to git em to load them papers up an git outta here.

Man I was hoppin mad, took myself down to that newspaper office, walked in and yelled Imogene come here an splain to me bout this here ad.

Well Mr Bob let me see here, yep that's your ad,

I'll be dammed that ain't no ad of mine. I never placed no such thing. You people better git this right, in about ten min or less, or I'm gonna commence whuppin some ass here.

Made enuff commotion Mr Brandywine came outta his office, he said now calm down here Mr Bob, we'll figure out what the mix up is.

Mr Bob looks like this here ad was placed by Mr Cash and it was paid by cash and yes it has your address.

Well I'll be dammed, youn's know my address by now and know i didn't place no such ad, y'all better come down and pick em up, I don't want em and I ain't bout to pay all them folks no 50 cents a pound.

Well Imogene and Mr Berrywine came to my place and told all them mad people that it was a miss print, they were sorry, them people swarmed madder than hornets in a hail storm mind you.

Well Mr Berrywine was so overwhelmed he told em to bring their papers down town, to his office, and he would pay em.

Come to find out Ole Tom Muleskinner down at the old Donovan place was pullin his annual prank and I was the target. That's why Ole Bob need a gooden, got one post it in my comments for me, thanks!!

2nd un-edited re run
bbq'n in the back yard stewin over muleskinners little antics, thinkin all my frens and neighbors gonna start callin me "paperboy" or sumthin, I start fumim all over agin.
I star thinken and you know, that can't be good, how I'm gonna pay that no good s. o. b. back.
While I'm doin that, all these here neighbors of mine, are smellin this here cookin,and start moseyin on over.
HELL, John brung a date even, Holly Hooker or some such name, now dont go an tell Bess.
Kyrie and Chase come on over too, as well as Ness, this cutle little Scottish girl with her fambly. Cool and Anxious were here, Mss Sandra, came with her school lunch menu, anyways there was a crowd.
Now I gotta whole passel of people here, might have to swear em all in as a posse, and we will come up with somthin to play on the Ole Muleskinner.
Pert soon all these ideas come rushin outta ever where, more ideas than this ole man can muster. How we gonna pull all this together, much less pull it off, I dont know, but by god I'm in the mood to jez whup some ass.
Bout this time a hush falls in the yard, Tom Muleskinner, in my yard, at my bbq, and no beer with him (damn moocher).
Now Tom and I go way back, hell we graduated the same time, from Mss Sandras' class, 6th grade it was, even celebrated our 16th birthdays together the next day. So's I know him well.
Any ways, I hold back my, I wanna whup your ass attitude, an start chummin up. So hows about comin over Saturday and watch the ball game on my new big screen with me, I sez to Tom, man he jumps for that. I just bought one of them hang on the wall things, bout a 20in screen I think. He's just been waitin to see my bran new TV, got the bastard hooked now. Posse plan set. Kabang. Now the rest of the story as Ole brother Paul would say.
Tom shows up bright and early Saturday mornin, hell I'm still on the front porch readin the damn paper. That moocher still didn't bring no beer.
We get settled in to watch the game, Adam stops by, now this boy knows beer, and he brought some of his home brew, yeah buddy the good stuff.
The game starts directly and man is it boring, nonscoring, wish we wern't playin them Longhorns. Still no score at half time, we're watchin the crowd when Tom yells, out would you lookey there its them youngs from the BBQ
Well we got ole tom plastered on that home brew an i took his ugly ass home, dropped him off on his front lawn dead ass drunk, plans workin fine.
Go on home meet up with the posse thank em all ,we'll talk tomorrow, and I go to bed.
I get this call from Tom Muleskinner, seems he woke up went in his house and found this here sight.
Paper cups filled with water all over his livinroom floor, his furniture been glued to the ceiling, all his sugar and salt stuff all mixed up, the bat room is filled with balloons and his clocks all had a different time one, and to top the cake when I went outside some fool done wrapped my truck in that plastic wrap stuff.
Man all I could do not to wet on myself, that posse of mine deserves accolades of praise.

Pay back is a bitch, huh Tom Muleskinner (lmao) bettern whuppin ass!!!!!!!

Now meet the posse and partners of this caper:



Mikes favorite Cucunbers and sprite

Have you ever gone to the store and forgot what you were suppose to pick up. You did'nt bring a list, you don't have your cell to call home. So what to do? Not this, I will explain with this story.
Well by now most of you know how I am or maybe not no matter, I'm gonna tell you a little about Bess.
Now ,Bess is the boss and the real ass whupper here, she's about as tall as I am, but not quite. She has long white hair and I do mean white hair. Body wize whoo whoo , better not go there though.
Any ways, when Bess sends me to the store,I try my damdest not forget nothin, I always do though. Sos you know I finally figgered this out.
Bess, has a cousin, name of Cora Lee, now Cora is meanern a snake and as ugly as the inside of a burnt down barn, an B.O. that any chicken coop would envy.
Well she come to visit last week, sos I figure good time as any for a fishin trip. Now, Bess has other plans, no fishin. If, Cora weren't no girl I'd haffta whup her ass.
Now I'm stuck here, with this ugly ass woman, for three days, and she's one them house prowlin types, you know, them that looks in your drawers, goes through your cabinets, hell she mights well join the I.R.S. search squad.
Any ways, she spots these cucumbers in the fridge, about four dozen of em, and notices about tweleve cases of sprite stacked in the corner.
I can just hear, them ugly rusted gears, in that simpleminded ole head of hers crank up, like an old John Deere tractor.
Now, she wants to know, why in hevens name, we got all them cucumbers and all that sprite, damn. I been tryin to kill this issue, for bout two weeks now and she just openes this can of worms, agin.
Damn , I just wanna whup her ass.
Well, justl sos you know, I wouldn't whup up on no women, dont mean I wouldnt like to tho.
Bess, had sent me to the store, to pick up a few things, and cucumbers and sprite is what I forgot.
So, I figured out this here plan, when I go into the store, I'll ask, Jimmy, the bag boy, to say cucumbers and sprite at me when I'm leavin the store.
So, when I'm done shoppin, Jimmy says hey Mr. Bob, real loud, when I say real loud. I mean that boy shouted, you could hear him in the back, where that drunk butcher, Joe, hides out.
I said thank you Jimmy, for reminden me and I get some cucumbers and sprite and head on home, proud as a mule with full bag of oats.
Next mornin, I'm out on the front porch, wavin at the traffik, readin my paper, drinkin my coffee and waintin on Clem to deliver the mail.
Along comes Bess, outta the livinroom, sayin we is outta milk, now remember when Bess ays jump I dont ask how high, I get out the survival gear.
So, I head to the store, notice, Melvin Ray's, truck parked at Betty's Cafe, sos I pull in, he's been dodgin me since Easter, an owes me two bucks, I'm gonna git it. I go inside, ever body says howdy Mr, Bob, Melvin, sulks down in that there booth, thinkin I cant see him, hell hes over six foot tal,l an has feet as big as my aluminum boat. Hows he think he can hide in that there little ole booth beats me. I sez, now Melvin no sense you hidin there, I see you, just gimme my two bucks and wont be no ass whuppin here, I'll be damned, he paid me right there. Way to start the day, sos, I head on over to the grocery store to pick up that milk, feelin prouder than sister Hazels rose garden. I git the milk, check out, leavin the store, when , Jimmy the bag boy, hollers out Mr.Bob cucumbers and sprite, I said oh yeah, and go git some, head home with milk, cucumbers and sprite.
Hell, I, never gave it no mind even when I got home, I just put the stuff up.
Well, next mornin, same routine, cept, Bess needs washin powder.
I head to the store, see Alvie Sly's, truck parked in front of Betty's cafe, sos I pull in. Alvie's, the mayor here, you want sumthin done, go direct to Alvie. I told him bout the water what was backin up in my front yard, cause his lazy boys there, outta his office, ain't cleanin out them culverts. I got that fixed, he said he git them boys over ther this afternoon. Man I feel great, been tryin to git that fixed for months.
I, go into the store, pick up the washin powder, check out, when, jimmy, the bag boy, yells hey Mr. Bob, cucumbers and sprite. Sos, I go back and git the cucumbers and sprite.
Startin to get the piktur, huh.
This goes on bout a week or so.
Cucumbers and sprite.
Jimmy,the bag boy, me goin back an gitten em.
I don't pay no mind.
Well, I come in with them cucumbers and sprite, this time, Bess, screams what are you a doin, buying cucumbers and sprite for ever day, an shes hotter than a july firecracker, hell , Mr.Bob [she never calls me Mr. Bob unless sumthin is really wrong],we don't need no more, cucumber or sprite. Light goes off, bells ring, damn, I better tell Jimmy, I got plenty of cucumbers and sprite. Don't remind me no more.
Any ways thats the story, an that damn, Cora done brought it up agin.
I swear, that ole ugly thing, if she wern't no woman, I'd a whupped her ass.

I hope you all enjoyed the re-runs
Bess says hi

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Mr. Bobs' "Higher- High" Educational Encounter All Dressed Up

I, know, this is gonna be hard for some of you to understand, specially if you have known me and followed, this blog for any length of time.
I have never talked about this part of my existence before, but I thought just, maybe, you might git a chuckle outta it.
Back in 1968, I decided, no actually, my family decided, that I not only needed to further my education, but that I should do it on a small Baptist college. Yikes, bummer, and any other adjective you wish to  use here, any way, this was way out of my element and comfort zone.

Most of the guys here, were bible thumpin, knock on your door, Jesus saves, dorks. No offense to any one that falls into this category, mind you, I was only eighteen at the time. Except  the fact that, my hair was down to the middle of my back, I smoked cigarettes, I smoked pot, I drank, and every third phrase outta my mouth was, "you gotta be shittin me", and "far out fuck wad". As you can see at that time I would not be the model canidate for student of the year on this little bible school.

My room mate, was this weird little fellow from, "Philly", with an even more strange name, David Dingbutt, changed his last name just in case. This guy was hung up, on show tunes, and Frank Sinatra. Me, it was Quick Silver Messenger Service, and Pink Floyd, for the easy listening stuff an Janis and Jimmy for the more moderate. I might write about this educated idiot some time.

I stayed off campus, as much as possible, hung out at the park, gazebo, played frisbee, listened to music and stayed stoned. These were the good times, no hard drugs then, just for "medicinal" purposes any way, yep, I was sick of that campus.

I found out really quick, I was a different type of student. I wasn't a religious type, I wasn't a studious type, I was mostly a party type. This did not blend in on this campus. They were, short hair, polished shoes, neat pressed shirts and slacks types. Me, long hair, beard, tie-dyed-tee shirts, bell bottom jeans, and sandles, a much more laid back type.

Every, Wednesday, was a mandatory chapel, I went to twice, I liked it so much, that I hired this off campus wino, to sit in my seat every Wednesday, for the roll call, for the duration of my life there. This fellow found the lord, and became a Baptist preacher, so as you can see there was a silver lining.

The only major expense, that I incurred, was this stoopid meal ticket, that you had to purchase. This was the biggest waste of money ever for me. I never ate breakfast, and the lunch was just a time to collect all the different colors of jello, I liked to use the jello to stain the sidewalks, made all type of art work there, you know, peace signs, and that type of stuff. Mistake was I would do it right on the cafeteria sidewalk as you walked up to the door. I wrote with the jello, this jello, causes cancer and brain disease.

Man, I was always in this little dean guys office.
Now this guy, Damn, he was a retired military officer, about five feet four inches tall, had that attitude of , "boy", my way or the highway, I always said, "fine, can I have a map". He hated me, and ,well, I was no fan of his either.

Guess I was just considered a "Rebel" here.

My biggest problem on this campus was with the cafeteria, as I had a problem here, right away, in fact, there were, two instances that I had to go and see the dean, I am only going to tell you about one right now.

You have to remember this was 1968, and "who", I was then.

I decided to attend the Sunday luncheon meal, I woke up late, got in a hurry to make it over there before they closed the lines and stopped serving. I walked in side just in time, they were still serving, and very few people were still there.
The girl, snickers, and says sorry, I can't serve you.

I say, why can't you serve me, the line is still open.

You are dressed improperly, I was informed.
Hell, I had on my t-shirt, shorts, and sandals. She informed me, that to be served, Sunday lunch, you "MUST" wear a coat and tie.
I tried to turn on the charm.
I said. oh I'm sorry sweetheart, can you let me slide just this once, I won't tell any one, and I really am hungry, besides there is no way that I can make it back to the dorm, change and get back here before you close the doors.
An emphatic, resonating  NO, was belted out.

My charm wore off immediately.
Then get the hell outta my way, and I will serve my self, and I did.
She walked over to my table, picked up the meal ticket, off of my tray, and wrote down the number.

Next morning.
Had a note on my dorm room door.
Mr. Byford, please report to the dean before returning to class.

The dean and I, if you remember are not fans of each other.
 Mr. Byford, at this school, as stated in the orientation manual, that I am sure you received, it clearly states, and he had the book opened and underlined, a coat and tie are required for Sunday luncheon meal.

I tried to explain the situation, no dice, this prick wasn't going to hear any of it.
NO EXCUSES, coat and tie only, good day, and he dismissed me.

That next sunday, I was first in line for the Sunday luncheon. Had my, coat and tie on, and thers she was, the cafeteria policewoman.
She walks over to my table, picks up my meal ticket, writes down the number.

Next morning, had a note on my dorm room door.
Mr. Byford, please report to the dean before returning to classes.

Mr. Byford, a coat must be worn right side out, and a shoe string, even if colored red, is still not a tie.

I pulled out my copy of the orientation manual, highlighted and underlined.
Show me where it says that.
It merely states in its' vagueness, "a coat and tie, are required for Sunday luncheon meal", no mention of any qualifications or exclusions.
I dismissed  myself, turned, closed the door, as I left his office.

That Wednesday, in their, mandatory, chapel, they were introduced to an addendum, to the "orientation" manual.
Male students attending the Sunday luncheon, Must wear a coat, that coat MUST be worn in the fashion that it was designed, MUST be worn right side out, a tie MUST be worn, that tie must be a proper tie, WITHOUT exception,ie.a shoe string or other substitute will NOT qualify, as a tie. NO EXCEPTIONS.

Wow, over night, I became a campus legend, imagine that, the ole hippy hick, scored.

Oh, and by the way, the ole wino, I hired, to sit in for roll call, yep, ran into him just the other day.
He was drunk on his ass, and he had just accepted a new position, as the new dean, on that campus.
Go figure

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I Have started this blog as a rest stop to collect my thoughts, share my ideas with my friends and to start work on what ever, I started blogging at the last of august, 2009. it says 2008, hell I don't know where they got

just kicken it around