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Pastimes : FLAME THREAD - Post all obnoxious/derogatory comments here -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Solon who wrote (6103)	9/25/1998 2:39:00 PM
From: Druss	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 12754

Solon--I wasn't accused very often of having good sense in my early days. I left South Dakota when I was 9 1/2 and lived in Texas for over 5 years. I went back to S. Dakota as my family was moving to Washington. My friends in S. Dakota said they all thought I was dead as I had been so wild they didn't think I could survive. I interpreted this as meaning I was daring and brave and so on. Later a different slant occurred to me that perhaps they were in agreement with comments I had heard that I didn't have the common sense God gave a carrot. After a little thought I rejected the negative connotations as they were my friends after all and wouldn't think such things. Druss

To: Solon who wrote (6103)	9/25/1998 10:08:00 PM
From: Blue On Black	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 12754

Solon, Since you mentioned to goat, I offer... The Short, Happy Life of Harmon -the Goat To Texans, a goat-roast is something that is reserved for special occasions, usually a weekend is a special enough occasion. So from teen years until early marriage, I usually had a goat or two in various stages of the 'fattening' process. Harmon came as part of a package of goats. He was a 'wither' of special good nature so he survived while other goats departed. (For the urban people change 'wither' to steer and you will have the idea.) Eventually, Harmon displayed a talent for riding in a pickup bed like a dog. It made for interesting conversation. Imagine several drunks gathered around a pickup on the edge of town. One squints real hard and says, "Does your dog bite?" I would always manage a reply, "No, but he will ram the hell out of you." It was really fun to take him to a 'big city' (anything over 3500 people) and drive around. Life was good - I was amused and Harmon got all the shell corn he could eat and had the run of the farm. Then I got my first 'NEW' truck...as in not pre-owned. I was prouder than a peach orchard boar...A new pickup with no miles and that fantastic 'new' smell. Life was still good. I gathered up Harmon and we cruised over most of 3 counties showing off my new truck. In the course of traveling, most people were willing to help me sample of an ice-chest of beverages. Harmon even sampled beverages that night. I, very,very regretfully, arose the next morning about daylight. It was real bright. However, I had a beautiful,new,shiney, wonderful truck to go inspect. I wandered outside and I noticed that I had for got to put the tailgate down where Harmon could get out of the truck. I wandered out to inspect the truck. I discovered that goats had very healthy digestive tracts. On the hood...on the cab of the truck, in the bed of the truck...everywhere there was a flat surface...Harmon had made a deposit,,,,REPEATEDLY. I was impressed that he was still alive after such an alimentary display. I let down the tailgate and walked to the hood to restrain impulses to shorten his life. Evidently, Harmon felt a need to explain and followed me to the hood and jumped on it so that he could explain it...eye-to-eye. I promptly drew back and swung as hard as I could. Needless to say, Harmon dipped his head and caught my blow on his horns but he still gets knocked off of the truck. I, after sticking the hand between my legs and hopping around, notice that Harmon is concerned about my well-being and returned to the hood of the truck and bleating his concern. So I hit him with the other hand, which he neatly catches with his horns.(As I mentioned in previous posts...A chicken has a itty-bitty head...) . . . Harmon died 4 weeks later...when I got a cast off and could hold a gun again. He did barbeque well. Poor Harmon, lee