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             About me






 

I'm a writer as you can see on the right. I will use this to write whatever comes to mind.

You can now borrow books from Kindle. It's a good way to see if you like a writer's style.



A lot of people like to drink wine. They savor it. They know the good stuff from the trashy stuff. I appluad them. I also wonder if they ever think about bird crap. Yea, bird crap. Birds bomb anything outdoors with caca. I know that the grapes are washed first but have you ever washed bird droppings off your car?

Think about that the next time you order a carafe.


The Drawbridge

I was driving north on I-95 recently. I got to the Potomac River, the boundary between Virginia and Maryland, when I saw a sign for a drawbridge ahead. I knew it couldn't be on the interstate and wondered why a drawbridge would be a n attraction. I live in a place with drawbridges. It's not a big deal. Then the sign said it was just ahead. What? A drawbridge on an interstate? No on is that stupid. Well, yes, someone is.

It appears the engineers didn't take into consideration the height of a U.S.Navy warship. When it was brought to their attention that a warship couldn't pass under the proposed bridge their response was, “So what.”

The Secretary of Defense told them he cared. He cared a lot. He also was in charge of the navy warships. He also mentioned they carried guns and missiles capable of taking a bridge down. They were smart missiles and could be programmed to go anywhere, including the engineers houses.

They designed a drawbridge.

This as true as it gets.

 
Chickenheads

I usually don't drink in bars. It's expensive compared to drinking at home, anyone's home. Drinking in a bar does allow you to hear fairly odd stories- like this one.

Lester and Gomer were sitting at the bar at Moonie's Grill. They were drinking beer, eating free peanuts, and passing gas. Lester and Gomer were considered to be either dumb or stupid. That was based mostly on what they would talk about- like this.

“Say, there, Lester, you heard about the dude that found a chicken head in his box of wings?” Lester lives for that sort of thing. He is easy to amuse.

“Yea, I heard that. He was fussin' something fierce. I don't get it”, Homer replied. Actually, Homer didn't get a lot of things.

“Was the head cooked?”, Lester asked. Why that mattered is something I didn't get.

“Sure. It was fried.” Oh, as compared to grilled or broiled or boiled. It's still a chicken head.

”You're right. Why was he fussin'?” Yea, it's just a chicken head. We eat the rest of him.

“Must be one of them 'gourmet' sissies. Heck, ain't much meat there but , heck, ain't that much on a neck neither.”

“Well, if I were a bettin' man, and I am, I'd bet ya he wouldn't eat no chicken neck neither.” That was something these two guys would find odd.

“No bet. Heck, I've eaten stuff in here I don't know what it was.”

“Yea, and don't rightly wanna know neither.” Could have been ground chicken heads.

“Oh! Excuse me there, Lester. Didn't mean for that beer to come back up and get on you.”

“Whatta ya mean?"

“Lester, I done throwed up on you!”

“Yea? Yea, ya did. Didn't rightly notice it.”


  Funny Stories by Don Roble
Funny Stories

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Appalachia by Don Roble
Appalachia

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poetry

      Poems And Rhymes Of Our Times
...by Brian Cecil and Megan Cassavoy