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Posted: Sun Mar 20, 2011 23:00
by unclebuck
An Albertan asks "What kind of meat, damn well better be beef."

BBQ restaurant, joint, or dive?

Posted: Thu Mar 31, 2011 03:07
by Gray Goat
My MIL gave me an old copy of a magazine which included this handy field guide of definitions.

Restaurant: Matching furniture, taped music, printed menus. Accepts credit cards. Member of the chamber of commerce.

Joint: Screened door, jukebox, beer, chalkboard menu. The cook is nicknamed Bubba. Cash only.

Dive: Torn screened door, tattoos, beer, whiskey, flies. No menu. The cook's real name is Bubba, and she has a prison record. :lol: :lol:

Posted: Thu Mar 31, 2011 04:17
by steelchef
Hey GiGi,

You should send this to Guy Feorri. It sounds like an optional version of Diners, Drive Inns and Dives. Lol! :lol:

Posted: Sun Aug 14, 2011 10:08
by Chuckwagon
The Secret Of Peacock`s Saloon

There`s a bit of history behind this Eastern Utah sheep dip... this terrifying tarantula`s tonsil twister. You see, at the turn of the last, past century, my ol' "Grampy" worked at the local lumber store in my hometown of Price, Utah - a few miles from the site where Butch Cassidy and his gang robbed the Pleasant Valley Mine Payroll at Castle Gate in April of 1897, finally riding south through my cousin`s ranch, mounting fresh horses an hour later, and disappearing into the San Raphael Swell. The "brains of the outfit", Elsa Lay had cut the telegraph wires, confusing law officers in all directions. Posse members from the south mistook another loosely organized posse from the north and the two courageous clusters shot at each other for hours before they realized Cassidy had ridden into the San Raphael and finally into "The Maze" at Robber`s Roost. My ol` Daddy had told me stories about men chasin` cows into the Maze, never to be seen again.

I always called my grandfather "Grampy", and as a young man, he supplied cottonwood planks for the raised sidewalks along an unpaved, ol` west main street then dotted with wild saloons and other assorted shady establishments down the side streets. Saddle tramps could always stumble upon a hot poker game, "paint his nose with antifogmatics", or enthusiastically indulge in the horizontal hula or other certain time-consuming social activities with the painted cats of the evening. Illegal yes, nonetheless quite tolerated by the general population.

One local favorite thirst emporium was that of an Englishman, a Mr. Lloyd Peacock, whose specialty was preparing his famous "Tom And Jerry" spirited eggnog recipe, and it has been said that around the holidays, cowboys sopped up the stuff like dry sponges. During the summer of 1909, William "Gunplay" Maxwell, a twice-convicted bank robber, began planning a local mine payroll robbery. He claimed the last chair and a portion of the bar inside Peacock`s Saloon for his headquarters. Receiving an anonymous tip, coal company owners asked deputy sheriff Edward Black Johnstone to thwart the plan. It was generally known that the deputy had crossed paths with the outlaw previously and Johnstone had become Maxwell`s nemesis having testified against him in a court of law, following a bungled robbery. Some called him "Shoot `em up Bill".

"Shoot `em up Bill" had no trouble locating Maxwell inside the old Saloon on the west side of Price`s Main Street. Maxwell`s verbal abuse could be heard along the sidewalk outside the building and soon both men were facing each other in the street. Within a matter of only moments, C. L. "Gunplay" Maxwell lay dying upon the ground. Firing twice, Johnstone thought he`d missed as the dirt churned up behind the outlaw. Then Maxwell, not even having removed his blue shooter from its holster, slumped to the dirt with two holes through his upper torso. Shoot `em up Bill had simply beat the man to the draw. The wives of the town`s fathers insisted the man`s body be buried outside the cemetery fence where "only decent folks were interred". What happened to the old saloon? It remained virtually unchanged for decades and patrons could always stop by for a "Tom & Jerry" during the holidays. The place was remodeled during the mid 1970`s and the name was changed, although it is still a favorite waterin` hole for local cowboys.

Somehow, ol' Grampy acquired Peacock's famous Tom & Jerry recipe, and I wouldn`t be surprised if he won it while betting holding an inside straight! Nonetheless, it soon became an annual holiday tradition for our extended family to gather at my grandparent`s farm just west of town, on the evening of the 23rd of December for some celebratory eggnog cheer. Of course, the children had the recipe without the spirits. This stuff is "perty dang good" and I hope you try it.

"Tom And Jerry`s"
(Peacock's Saloon 110 -Year-Old Secret Egg Nog Recipe)

10 eggs
1 quart of milk
2 cups of sugar
cinnamon
nutmeg
rum and whiskey

Gradually, warm two cups of milk on the ol' wood stove then reserve it. Separate the eggs and beat the yolks together with two cups of sugar. Continue beating the mixture until it stiffens. Beat the egg whites separately and add one tablespoon of vanilla extract. Excluding the milk, fold (don`t stir), all the ingredients together until the mixture is smooth and stiff. Gradually add the hot milk until the mixture is smooth and creamy. Note the amount of milk necessary will depend upon the size of the eggs. Pour the mixture into mugs and add one jigger of whiskey and 1/2 jigger of rum to each. Stir slowly and sprinkle with ground nutmeg and cinnamon to taste. I like to use a little allspice in mine. Relax and enjoy Tom & Jerry`s with your family.

Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon

Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2011 05:41
by Chuckwagon
"Little Chuck" called me from his school one day and said: "Dad, our teacher asked us what our favorite animal was, and I said, "fried chicken." She said I was not funny, but she couldn't have been right, because everyone else in the class laughed.

Dad, you always told me to be truthful and honest, and I am. Fried chicken is my favorite animal. I told mom what happened, and she said my teacher was probably a member of PETA. She said they love animals very much. I do, too. Especially chicken, pork and beef. Anyway, my teacher sent me to the principal's office! I told him what happened, and he laughed, too. Then he told me not to do it again.

After recess, my teacher asked me what my favorite live animal was. I told her it was chicken. She asked me why. So I told her it was because you could turn them into fried chicken.

She sent me back to the principal's office again! He laughed, and told me not to do it again. I just don't understand. Dad, you always taught me to be honest, but my teacher doesn't like it when I am.

Just before school let out for the day, my teacher asked us to tell her what famous person we admire most. I told her, "Colonel Sanders."

Dad, Can you come and get me? Guess where I am now... :shock:

Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon

Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 03:35
by ssorllih
A good friend once bought a parrot and soon learned that the bird had a triple "x" vocabulary. He would cuss my friend and any visitors and the dog.
My friend told the parrot that if he didn't clean up his act my friend would punish him. The parrot just replied with a string of invictive that would make a chief bosons mate blush. So my friend threw the parrot into the freezer figuring that it would cool him off literally and figurtively. Well he could hear that bird right through the closed door of the freezer. Suddenly there was silence and my friend said he was afraid he had been too harsh and killed the damn bird. But when he lifted the lidt he parrot walked out and said ," I realize that I have behaved badly and and been very disrespectful but do you mind if I ask what the turkey did?"

Posted: Tue Oct 25, 2011 14:42
by DLFL
The Tom and Jerry recipe sure brought back memories. Dad would make them in the winter to share with the friends. This was done to warm up with after a long battle with snow.

Thanks for the memories!

Dick

Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2011 00:53
by uwanna61
DLFL
This was done to warm up with after a long battle with snow.
Hold on, I`m confused. You live in Florida, snow?

Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2011 04:16
by ssorllih
DLFL , says , " ya see that cabin over there?" I was born in thet cabin. " I helpped my dad build it. "

Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2011 14:54
by DLFL
I grew up in Indiana and we did get snow. LOL Here in the panhandle of Florida I have seen snow blowing down the street without melting. Granted it does not happen very often. Back in 1989 there was three inches on the ground.

Elections

Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2011 23:08
by ssorllih
When I lived in a small town in north eastern Oregon My neighbor was running for sherriff. He had been born in this town, educated there through High School and came back after serving a tour in the Army. When election Day came he got a total of 6 votes and his opponent got 65. The toal voter turnout was only about 10 percent of the town. The next day I saw Ed in town wearing a brace of pistols and carrying a double barrel 12 gauge on his arm. I asked him why all the guns and he said that anybody that didn't have any more friends than he did needed to be armed.

Everything that I know about music

Posted: Sun Nov 20, 2011 05:51
by ssorllih
Hi Chuckwagon, I know about yer luv of music so I figgered it was time to share my wizdom about music with you. The longer it takes to write a note on a musical page the less time you have to play it. And with a guitar the closer yer hands git together the further up on them five little lines the notes go. Thet's all All I know abut music but I thought you cuyld use this help.

Posted: Sat Feb 11, 2012 04:27
by Chuckwagon
"Old Ranch Remedies, Wisdom, And Wives` Tales"

As I reflect upon more pleasant earlier days of soap-making, beer brewing, and mushroom canning, I must include a few of my favorite two hundred-year-old remedies and recipes you may enjoy reading for amusement. I really wouldn`t try potassium cyanide on insects or egg yolks on a snakebite!

Don't throw out orange skins. Boil them and use the water for bathing as it gives a fresh appearance to the complexion so vitally important to horse wranglers, cow kickers, and polecats. If you happen to receive a blackened eye as the consequence of an inappropriate discretion or indecorous behavior, bathe the area with very warm orange water, apply raw beef steak to the affected area, and terminate any indiscreet, indecent, unwholesome, or bawdy demeanor or licentious comportment. If you're just worried sick about the whole thing and have acquired a splitting headache, try a teaspoon of charcoal in half a glass of water.

Revitalize any hair you have remaining upon your scalp by pouring one pint of boiling water into one ounce of oil of tar. Stir the mixture, allow it to cool, skim the liquid and pour it through a piece of cheesecloth. Add bay rum to infuse a milky appearance. Add one-half ounce of extract burdock root, and one half drachum of tincture of lobelia. Brush the scalp thoroughly every day and apply the renewer.

A good hard soap is made of six pounds of sol soda, six pounds of lard, three pounds of limestone and four gallons of soft water. Dissolve the lime and soda in boiling water, stir it frequently, and then allow it to settle. Pour off the liquid carefully, add the lard, and boil the mixture until it thickens. Stir in one-ounce sassafras oil and use the soap for laundry and toiletry purposes. If you happen to receive a rattlesnake bite while preparing the soap, make a stiff paste of egg yolk and table salt, applying it to the wound at once.

Treat a rusty nail injury by smoking the wound over the fumes of burning woolen cloth, wool, or sugar, fifteen minutes for the reduction of pain. As you most likely will pass out from the odor within the first five minutes, it will not be necessary to use a timing device.

A solution of cyanide of potassium will kill insects, however, my favorite home brewed, eco-friendly, bug-killing spray for plants is a pureed mixture of 3 onions, 1 whole garlic, 2 tablespoons hot red pepper, and 1 tablespoon baking soda, mixed with a quart of soapy water.

For tired, burning feet, remove those tight riding boots and soak your feet fifteen minutes nightly in a pint of bran mixed with an ounce of bicarbonate of soda and a gallon of hot water. The pores of the skin being tightly enclosed cause feet to perspire less, producing a burning sensation. On the other hand, it might be a good idea to leave your boots on your feet, as I've seen cowboy's perspiration-soaked socks actually start stampedes of cattle!

Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon

Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 05:48
by Chuckwagon
The Legend Of "Dutch Oven Dick"

"Dutch Oven Dick" is an Alaskan bush pilot and a true old sourdough. While landing his plane in heavy fog on the Kenai Peninsula, he missed the front of the airstrip. Pulling up quickly, he struck a tall pine tree sending his aircraft into a spin. Dick's airplane came down hard, nose first, between two power lines. Although the wires, adjacent to the wings, broke its fall, the plane's nose struck the ground, injuring Dick severely, causing the loss of part of his face and the separation of his right eye from its socket. As gasoline poured over his body, Dick could not free himself from his seatbelt as he was dazed and confused, not to mention the fact he could "see in two different directions". Help came from a "mysterious man" from inside the small airport terminal building.

Requiring months of recuperation, following extensive searching, Dick was able to locate the man who braved leaking gasoline in the midst of sparking power lines to unselfishly climb into the severely damaged and vertically suspended small aircraft to cut the seatbelts and pull him from a very perilous situation . Petitioning Alaska`s governor`s office several times, Dick was finally granted a request to have the man of mystery, a true hero, awarded a citation for bravery by the Governor himself. Today, following reconstructive surgery, with his own eye replaced, Dick continues to fly... incredibly without eyeglasses! :shock:

And now... for the rest of the story!

Everyone in our 49th state knows in order to be called an "Alaskan", a non-native greenhorn must pass three specific and unique "tests". One must first urinate into the Yukon River before shooting a moose! Finally, one must make love with a native Alaskan... an Eskimo! My pal "Dutch Oven Dick" Lafferty, stopping by to visit, having spent a year in Anchorage, told me he indeed raised the water level of the Yukon River. The following spring, I received a postcard explaining his success while cutting up his moose steaks with the eight-inch, handmade, "Bearclaw" knife that I`d given him.

Years went by and although we canoed rivers and hunted together many times, the subject of becoming an Alaskan was never again mentioned. Then one night, in the wee hours of the morning, my telephone awakened me. The call was long-distance from Prudoe Bay, inside the Arctic Circle in Alaska. After a long pause, I heard... "I'm an Alaskan! I'm an Alaskan"!

And that's the way it really, really, was... :razz:
Best Wishes,
Chuckwagon

Posted: Sun Feb 26, 2012 03:56
by el Ducko
Not that bragging is a Texas tradition (well, okay, so I bragged a bit), but not many of you know that Corpus Christi is one of the windiest cities in the world. Yes, the "sparkling city by the sea" is windier than even Windy City Chicago, and quite a sailing and sailboarding capital. Next time there's a hurricane warning for the Texas Gulf Coast and they broadcast live from the Bayfront, look closely, past the hurricane flags, and you'll see windsurfers aplenty in the background. :cool:

Interestingly, though, Corpus Christi only gets about 18 inches of rain a year. How could that be, I wondered, until we moved there. Turns out that there are vertical inches and there are horizontal inches, and on that one day a year when a hurricane blows through and we get those 18 inches, there's a whole lot more that never hits the ground because it's moving too fast.

It blows inland, joining the weather pattern for the "lower 48," and eventually becomes severe weather for the "lesser 47". Those of you in the continental USA can verify this by looking at the television networks' weather maps. Notice that, below the Rio Grande and above the Great Lakes, there is no weather whatsoever. We went to Ontario, once, and although the food was good, there wasn't any weather there, so we came home. It's the same in Mexico- - great food, but no weather. (Fortunately, we had plenty to drink.)

In fact, I would recommend that if you are ever caught in a Gulf Coast hurricane, go inland 50 miles, find a bar on a high spot with no windows, go in, and don't forget to tip the bartender. The hurricane won't be a problem. Now, about those pesky spun-off tornadoes... :lol: