TALL TALES

Talk about anything here as long as it is not against the rules.
ssorllih
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Post by ssorllih » Fri Apr 20, 2012 04:32

My sails are polyester but my tarps are either polyethylene or polypropylene. But you knew that Ducky. :lol:
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Post by Chuckwagon » Fri Apr 20, 2012 04:43

MMMmmmm.... you say you gave someone a coronary in cotton britches with flames? :shock: Shucks Duck, you told me that you wore opaque, fish-net, Speedo's to weddings and funerals! :shock:
If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it probably needs more time on the grill! :D
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Post by el Ducko » Fri Apr 20, 2012 14:24

Now THERE's an idea that needs more time on the grill.

Maybe you've been inhaling when smokin' dem catfish.
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Post by ssorllih » Fri Apr 20, 2012 14:43

A good friend told me the she and a companion were engaged in conversation by a man wearing a mesh onion bag thong . She was not impressed.
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Post by el Ducko » Fri Apr 20, 2012 14:49

Yuk! ...rough neighborhood. :sad: Did they change the spelling there to Merrieland? :mad:
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Post by Chuckwagon » Wed Jul 04, 2012 06:33

I was asked to post this "Story Sent In By Paul" from... uh... well... uh... some other danged site! :roll:
July 3, 2012

As some of you may know, Chuckwagon is a big fan of Shetland sheepdogs or Shelties, so I was surprised he never told any of you about his first one - the one that could talk.
One day while out riding his bicycle, Chuckwagon saw a sign in front of a ranch house:
"Talking Dog for Sale." He rings the bell and the owner tells him the dog is in the backyard. Chuckwagon goes into the backyard and sees a Sheltie just sitting there.
"I`m Chuckwagon" he says. "You talk?" he asks.
"Yep," the Sheltie replies.
"So, what's your story?"
The dog looks up and says, "Well, I discovered this gift pretty young and I wanted to help the government when WW II started, so I told Dwight D. Eisenhower about my gift. In no time he had me shipped into Germany to listen in on the Nazi war plans. I can also "auf Deutsch". No one figured a dog would be eavesdropping, so I was one of his most valuable spies leading up to D-Day."
The dog paused to lick himself in a private area.
"Unfortunately, I bit one of Churchill`s ugly bulldogs so Eisenhower sent me back to Los Alamos to help Oppenheimer with some math problems. After the war, I ended up with a young Indian brave named Wannum Lester "Les" Bull who traded me for a cow. Now I just help out around the ranch."
Young Chuckwagon was amazed and slack-jawed. In fact, he had to spit out two flies that had landed in his open mouth. He turns to go back to the ranch house and the Sheltie says "Hey Chuckwagon, you should grow a moustache. It will make you look more like a lawman and less like an outlaw."
"I`ll take that under consideration" Chuckwagon says.
He went back and after telling the owner about his conversation asks the owner what he wants for the dog.
Ten dollars".
Chuckwagon says, "This dog is amazing. Why on earth are you selling him, so cheap?"
"He's a liar. He didn't do any of that sh*t."


Highest Regards, Paul


Thanks for posting this TRUE story Paul. It sure is good to hear from you after all these years. Gosh, what's it been? Three? :lol: Hope you are well pal. Stop in and visit more often.

Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon
If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it probably needs more time on the grill! :D
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Post by el Ducko » Wed Jul 04, 2012 14:57

Of course, you folks out there in forum-land realize that both Chuckwagon AND the dog make these tales up, right? :?:

(Those little voices told me so.) :mrgreen:
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Post by Chuckwagon » Thu Jul 05, 2012 02:07

Hey Duck,
I hear those voices too! :shock:
But, I never listen to them :roll:
If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it probably needs more time on the grill! :D
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The Code Of The West

Post by Chuckwagon » Fri Sep 07, 2012 03:17

An ol' cowpoke from the Pryor Mountains in Montana has joined our WD Ranch outfit and he goes by the tag of "Grasshopper" from Pine City, Minnesota. "Mike" used to shoe horses (farrier), while ridin' for the Adrian Wilson brand in the mountains just east of Red Lodge, Montana. We're happy to have you with us Mike and hope these few lines bring back some pleasant memories for you.

Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon
_________________________

No law on the trail?

There was no law on the range in the days when cattlemen and cowboys carved out a new frontier with herds of drifting cattle. Without written law and its enforcement, it became necessary for cowboys to formulate some sort of "table of rules", or framework of common courtesy and decent behavior. Never written into statutes, certain homespun laws being merely a gentleman`s agreement to certain rules of conduct, became respected everywhere on the range. The unwritten understanding became known as the "Code of the West".

Cowboys took pride in upholding the unwritten code and those failing to abide by it, although not formally punished, became more or less, socially outcast. "Hazed into the cutbacks" a code breaker was subject to the punishment of the very code he had broken. Even outlaws, violating every territorial, state, or federal law imagined, would not break the rules in the Code Of The West if they were to have friends. Formally written nowhere, the guidelines included the following:

The Code Of The West

Never inquire into a person's past, but accept the measure of a man for what he is today. Never steal another man's horse. A horse thief pays with his life. Look out for your own and defend yourself whenever necessary. Remove your guns before sitting at the dining table. Don't make a threat without expecting dire consequences. Never pass anyone on the trail without saying "Howdy". When approaching someone from behind, give a loud greeting before you get within shooting range. Don't wave at a man on a horse, as it might spook the horse. A nod is the proper greeting. After you pass someone on the trail, don't look back at him. It implies you don't trust him. Riding another man's horse without his permission is nearly as bad as making love to his wife. Never even bother another man's horse. Never order anything weaker than whiskey and always fill your glass to the brim.

Do not practice ingratitude. A cowboy is pleasant even when out of sorts. Complaining is what quitters do, and cowboys hate quitters. Always be courageous. Cowards aren't tolerated in any outfit worth its salt. A cowboy always helps someone in need, even a stranger, or an enemy. Never try on another man's hat. Be hospitable to strangers. Anyone who wanders in, including an enemy, is welcome at the dinner table. The same was true for riders who joined cowboys on the range. Give your enemy a fighting chance. Never wake another man by shaking or touching him, as he might wake suddenly and shoot you. Real cowboys are modest. A braggart who is "all gurgle and no guts" is not tolerated. A cowboy doesn`t talk much; he saves his breath for breathing. No matter how weary and hungry you are after a long day in the saddle, always tend to your horse's needs before your own, and get your horse some feed before you eat. Cuss all you want, but only around men, horses, and cows. Complain about the cooking and you become the cook. Always drink your whiskey with your gun hand, to show your friendly intentions. Be there for a friend when he needs you. Drinking on duty is grounds for instant dismissal and blacklisting. A cowboy is loyal to his "brand", to his friends, and those he rides with. Never shoot an unarmed or unwarned enemy - (also known as "the rattlesnake code"). Always warn before you strike. If a man was being stalked, however, the "the rattlesnake code" could be ignored. An` never shoot a woman no matter what! Consideration for others is central to the code. Don't stir up dust around their campsite or chuckwagon. An` don't wake up the wrong man for herd duty. Respect the land and the environment by not smoking in hazardous fire areas, disfiguring rocks, trees, or other natural areas. Honesty is absolute - your word is your bond, a handshake is more binding than a contract. Live by the Golden Rule... the "Code Of The West".
If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it probably needs more time on the grill! :D
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Fall Update - The University of Northern South Texas

Post by el Ducko » Tue Nov 06, 2012 21:41

FALL UPDATE: The University of Northern South Texas

Seasonal Commentary
The changing of the seasons is upon us, here at the University of Northern South Texas. This time of year, those live oak trees on campus that are taller than about ten feet (both of them) begin thinking about shedding their leaves, a process which will continue gradually through the winter and on into February, when they actually do begin shedding and replacing leaves, slowly, thoughtfully. The brown grasses turn a lovely shade of slightly browner brown, a sure sign that winter is not far away. Temperatures decline into the fifties at night, and the daytime mid-eighties suggest a hint of harsher weather on the way. (Was that a rain cloud...? Oh, please!)

Departmental Highlights
Here at the Department of Redundancy Department, we briefly yield the spotlight to the Political Silence, er, Political Science Department briefly. Most of the elections were decided months ago during the primary, but now, Texans once again realize that democracy under a one-point-one party system carries certain sacred obligations, so they go to the polls anyway, just to see what twenty or thirty new amendments to the state constitution have been proposed for the entertainment of the populace. ...and, there being no statewide propositions this year, they quietly vote and go back to drinking beer and complaining that nothing has changed, just like last year. Used to be, back in the early LBJ days, that everyone was a Democrat, and turnouts of over a hundred percent of registered voters could be counted upon. These days, just about everyone has switched to the Republican party, and thanks to redistricting, well... suits are still pending, so we won't go there. ...but people are still just dying to vote.

Wildlife Migration
No, the major decision, this year as in the past, is not politics, but rather, whether to go deer hunting this week or wait until next. The season just started, which means that the area around Our Beloved University sounds much like a war zone. Each year, more and more people buy ten-point-oh-oh-oh-one acre tracts. There, they can shoot as much as they want, any time they want, at probably anything they want. Wild turkey (other than the kind found in bottles) have fled, as have many of the deer. Those left, being smarter than the average hunter, find the nearest fenced yard, jump the fence, and settle in for a long winter of snacking on shrubbery delicacies.

Ring tail cats and raccoons move from yards to attics, not confused at all about the difference between migrating south and moving up. Up is obviously the shorter trip. This is the period that humane pest relocation businesses dream of- - Hav-A-Hart traps baited with peanut butter can be heard clattering shut each night in attics, after midnight, as soon as the critters detect REM sleep downstairs. Next morning, a fleet of trucks disperses across the countryside, collecting the traps, baiting new ones, releasing the poor animals "way out in the country." That night, the animals all take up shelter in new homes on the other side of the lake, where, after midnight... (You guessed it.) They'll be round-bellied and have peanut breath before long, ready for spring. As they say in the media, "No living creatures were harmed during the production of this" scenario. Peanut butter and gasoline consumption, however, should bring a big boost to the economy.

Economy Economics
Speaking of which, joblessness is a problem here, as in much of the country. The large number of applicants to colleges and universities is just one sign of a stumbling economy. Here at The University of Northern South Texas, we try to do our part. The Linguistics Department offers a short course in how to say useful phrases in Japanese ("Would you rike flies with that, Customer-San?"), Arabic ("Extra oil, Your Highness?"), and of course, Chinese("So solly for cold food. Cheap fryer no more work."). Several professors in the Mathematics Department recently were able to prove that their jobs didn't exist, and promptly vanished. Much of the Chemistry Department, engaged in alcohol-based solvent research, woke up with a headache and called in sick. Yes, science is always working for YOU, at The University of Northern South Texas.

...an equal opportunity offender.
:mrgreen:
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Post by orf » Tue Nov 06, 2012 23:33

a woodpecker walks into a bar and asks wheres the bartender.
there are no stupid questions but some of mine come pretty close
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Post by el Ducko » Thu Jan 03, 2013 17:49

Chuckwagon makes his first trip into town since being snowed in for the holidays
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Post by ssorllih » Fri Jan 04, 2013 05:36

I saw a movie years ago where in a drifter was displaying a nice new shiny colt . Someone asked him how he happened to be in possession of such a fine piece and he said that he had taken it from a kid who thought he was a man.
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Post by Chuckwagon » Fri Jan 04, 2013 16:43

Hey El Quacko,
Where did you find that picture of me when I was much, much, younger. I had forgotten that I was such a sexy lookin' shooter! Oh, yes... what memories. Gosh, that photo must be decades old by now. Thanks for postin' you... you... bonkers bird! :mrgreen:

Best Wishes,
RockChuck WagonTrack
If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it probably needs more time on the grill! :D
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End of the Holidays.....

Post by HamnCheese » Sat Jan 05, 2013 17:48

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Youth is the gift of nature, but age is a work of art.
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