Christmas Post #16: A Hillbilly Christmas
by Steve West on December 2, 2007
My father was born and raised in North Carolina. Throughout my childhood we would make the summer trek to my Granny and Grandpaw's house in the middle of the state. Many a summer night passed listening to roosters (they crow all friggin' night), the occasional gator grunt, and my hillbilly cousins fart and scratch while playing cards. Their discussions often centered around things just like this: The need for a better spit can; guns for their kids; the question as to with whom they would rather sleep, their wives or their guns; and electricity - highly overrated. I love my cousins still. Merry Christmas guys! And Tinker (a real cousin), I found the best game for you. Check your mailbox.
Web Junkie
Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »
It's That Time Of Year
Snow time. I don't live in Fargo so I defer to Denise and others for even more horrible snow stories. But the forecast yesterday was for anywhere between 6 and 32 inches of snow depending on a whole bunch of meteorological variables and other mysteries. Go »Like Father, Like Daughter
Or is it the other way around? I invited Lauren to take a closer look at Funeratic so she could see why I spend so much time here. I started with a few pictures, Scott - ("I know him!") Go »Inspiration
Go »Odds & Ends
Yesterday, Lauren and I went to Toby's Dinner Theatre for her birthday and saw Happy Days, the musical. I was never a big fan of the series but had seen enough of it to get the inside jokes and references to the old sitcom. A few of the groaners included not seeing Chuck for a few years now, the Fonz not being the same since he jumped the shark and Richie commenting on his usual ability to solve problems in just one-half hour. Go »These People Really Hate Tomatoes
Random quote: "I accedentially (sic) ate a cherry tomato in my salad once,and now I worship satan." I personally like tomatoes and find it incredible that anyone can have such passion in either direction; love or hate. About tomatoes, I mean. Go »
