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Archive for September, 2016

God Bless America…

So proud of Montague County kids…not all learning comes from books and homework…some is handed down by parents and dedicated teachers…

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Nothing Undecided Here…

Let’s Make America Great Again …or at least make it tolerable…don’t just sit on your rump …Vote Trump …

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3 Civil Rights Advocates

 

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Trophy Hunt…

Discerning  individuals may have noticed the Fenoglio family has more that their fair share of wild-game hunters….. downing exotic goats and cougars and such..

Not to be outdone by cousins and nephews , Uncle Ed and cousin Chase have vented their vengeance against domestic pigeons…sparing no expense in their quest to dispense genocide on the feathered airborne beast….They chartered a jet…

Currently performing armed violence near Corpus Christi..in undisclosed quarters..with a domestic cell of local Masoons….radicalized on Facebook , by 1st cousins and sharp-shootin nephews.

Taxidermist expect a surge in feathered mounts from the twelve-gauge duo.. soon as they both sober up…

 

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Mayhem in Muenster…

Tracy Mesler can’t touch this….

Only minutes away from heading out to the debate before the debate at Doc’s Bar and Five at Five…

Tommy O’Neal will be center stage ….defending the defenseless candidate which he has sworn allegiance to… cast against a plethora of Republican Squares… no undecided voters found there…

Security will check everyone at the door … those without a gun will be issued one … hand gun or long gun or scatter gun…

Policies of each candidate will be passionately cussed and dis-cussed .. Anvil-heads pitted against square-heads… Krauts taking the stump for Trump.. Dagos defending the visitors goal.. Chico will referee the event…

Oh what I’d give for Cardwell to make an unscheduled campaign stop at the “Debate before the Debate” … He’s pushing the Big Johnson…

Sentiments of Tony Romo could be exchanged over the closing round..

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and the Winner Is …..

W.R. Tucker trainees..

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Camping 101

Years ago , probably in the late fifties , a gaggle of local comrade youth would plan an adventure that few of today’s social media disciples would attempt or even understand..

Every willing middle-school boy child was welcome to participate in the feverishly planned camping trip reserved for the brave of heart…

Those roughing it without adult supervision or loaded firearms at our sides , included some of the more adventurous of our time and MISD tenure.. guys like the Hancock brothers , Allen and Donnie , Ray Walker , Jerry Hardison , sometimes Charley Dixon , and of course the Carter brothers three…

Our bikes were loaded down like pack-mules , with cornmeal and cast iron skillets , mom’s blankets , cooking oil , and advanced fishing tackle ( Sticks and string and hooks ) two red and white Bobbers to share among the crowd…..for the three-quarter mile trek out the Stoneburg highway…to a muddy pond filled with discretionary Pollywogs and tadpoles…

Our bikes were discarded against a five-wire fence before entering the forest where wild beast and heartless renegades prowled the premises..even before the setting sun disappeared , breaths hastened and pulse rates elevated….Life in the Montague Outback is extremely dangerous for youthful prey …..

The youngest of the crowd , brother Richard was 8 or so……, the oldest adventurer , Allen Hancock , probably 10 or 12….

Fishing began in earnest as soon as camp was set…spreading blankets among the leaves , and building a huge fire to ward off carnivorous timber wolves..and rattlesnakes..

The first to land a trophy sized Pollywog was exempt from further camp duty….like beheading the finned beast or cutting out his gory guts…washed in the same mud hole from whence he came , rolled in yellow cornmeal , and tossed into a boiling grease-filled skillet to fry…

That’s serious cuisine right there….seasoned only with an ocassional moth that flickered too close to the flame…fried perfectly to the selective eyes of ten-year-old lads… ( medium rare )…  Pollywog catfish …a controversial burst of mud and fried fish on the untrained palate…

We’d tend the lines half the night , fry a sparse catch to various states of cremation , eat like the last day of a five-day fast , and don mom’s quilt for the pending sleepless night of high drama..

It was absolutely the height of adventure , savored by only the fittest , remembered as great times in the company of cherished childhood friends ….forever embellished with each repetition… those monster Pollywogs were devilish to land , but always heavenly to consume… the meat is understandably sweeter next to the bone , and they all had plenty of bones.. …That’s how I remember it.. with Jerry , Ray , Charley , Allen and Donnie….brothers Richard and Gary.

author’s note…. who owned that prestigious pond ?…… I have no earthly idea ! ….It was carefree 1957…

 

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