Okay, before I get started, you know the drill. I've got to put in a plug for my other site which is where I post the majority of my stories. It is also where I give tips for "Blogging for Dollars", information vital in turning your blogging efforts into a flow of CASH! But, enough of that. I've got a doozy for y'all tonight, and it actually just happened to me yesterday. So, it's fresh in my memory.
I'll try not to get over-informative, I do tend to go on and on.
GRANDMA
Last night I had to go to the grocery store to pick up a few things. You know, just picking up the staples (milk, bread, soda, juice, hemmorhoid cream,etc.). As I was over by the dairy section I was approached by an elderly lady. She was probably about 70-75. She said to me,"Paul?" My name is not Paul, so I told her,"Nope, not Paul." She was like," I am so sorry, you look just like my grandson Paul. I knew you couldn't be him because he lives in Ky., but I swear you look just like him, and I heard he was here for the holidays and he never even came to see me." I felt sorry for her, she seemed like such a sweet old soul. So I chit-chatted with her for a few. She told me pretty much her whole life story in about 10 minutes. She was very interesting, but I had to skeedaddle, so I politely excused myself and contined my shopping. I mean it's one thing to be nice and polite, but to miss the Steeler's/Charger's game was a different story.
I was at the front of the store, and of course the shortest line for check-out was the one with her in it. I pulled my cart behind her and hid my face in a National Enquirer, hoping that she wouldn't notice me. It worked, SHEW. She didn't try to talk to me at all. After I saw that she had checked out, I loaded my items onto the belt. I admit I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings, but I was really surprised when my 8 items came to a total of $108.75. I told the cashier, "Uh, There must be some kind of mistake." She said,"No, No mistake these items plus your Grandma's groceries come to $108.75." I had been scammed. NO WAY! I told the lady, " I have no idea who that lady was." The cashier said,"Well, someone is paying for this." With a little too much attitude.
I told the cashier,"Look here is my ID, I'll be right back." as I threw her my ID and ran out the door to find this thievin' granny. I got out to the parking lot and saw her hurriedly loading her groceries into her car in the handicap section. I yelled, "Hey, Wait!" and I took off after her. Cars were coming from both directions, so I dodged a couple and got to her car just as she was trying to shut the door. I stopped the door in mid-swing and looked at her terrified face. I yelled at her, "What are you trying to pull, here?" She kept screaming, "Leave me alone,Paul. Why are you doing this?" Evidently to attract a crowd. I told her that we were going back inside to explain everything, but she was dead-set against it. She kept trying to start her car so as to drive off. Finally with no other choice, I reached inside the car and grabbed whatever I could so that she wouldn't leave. So I grabbed her leg and started pulling it and pulling it. JUST LIKE I'VE BEEN PULLING YOURS.
Don't be mad, you know you like it. And if you know me at all, you should've expected it. So, you have no one to blame but yourself. Remember, if you want to know more about the warped individual that writes these stories.....Visit The Story Teller Blog!
Monday, January 12, 2009
Thursday, December 25, 2008
REDNECK CHRISTMAS
First of all... Merry Christmas too all, and a prosperous New Year. Let me tell ya what I have going on before I start my Christmas Story. For background as to who's, where's, and why's of these stories make sure to visit me and my profile here. While I will only be posting here about once a week, I will be posting a story a day at my website , and if you are interested, there are also articles posted there on how to do what I do and generate income just by blogging. It can actually be pretty profitable.Anyways, as I sit this morning looking at all the presents accumulated by my wife and I and our somewhat spoiled daughter. I like to reflect on my past and realize how blessed we really are, I kinda just sat back and tried to remember my first Christmas that I can remember, and compare it to what I assume will be my daughter's first Christmas memory. Well, with all that outta the way I now present..............
REDNECK CHRISTMAS
It was Christmas Eve, 1976. I was 4 and my sister was 2. We had just hung a pair of my Dad's stinky black dress socks from the console record-player/stereo system with a piece of Scotch tape. I was really excited and a little nervous. You see, we did not have a chimney in our single-wide trailer out in the boonies, and the mailman could only find us about once a week, and he was from the area. Plus, my dad had his rifle all loaded, promising to get that red-nosed reindeer this year. Apparently, reindeer meat was "scrumptious". Now, don't get the wrong idea, my dad was a good-natured guy, especially around the holidays (he loved Christmas), but he was about as country as they come. Besides, Christmas was really all about the birth of the 8lb, 6oz. Baby Jesus, right?
OK I know I'm all over the place, just bear with me alright.
Anyways, we sat down to observe our 2 family traditions. One was the reading of "The Christmas Story"(Luke: Chapter 1 & 2), the other was the opening of our Christmas Pajamas. That year it was a pair of green and red striped one-pieces with a drop-bottom and "HO-HO-HO" written all over them (made by Mamaw) and yes, they had footies. We put out a plate of cookies and milk, and off to bed we went. Of coarse it was hard to fall asleep, with all the excitement, but after a little while, and a couple of spankings I might add, sleep I finally found.
Then at about 5:30 in the morning we were woke up by the boom of Dad's 30/30 rifle. He came in the house all upset cause he had "Missed that red-nosed reindeer once again, but he promised to get'em next year". Presents were everywhere, I remember it like it was yesterday. First we emptied our stockings, an orange an apple, some nuts, some chocolate coins, and a humongous candy can. They all smelled like feet, but we were excited nonetheless. I got an electric football set (you remember the ones that made a loud hummmmm and all the men ran in circles), a football, a palstic shoulder-pads and helmet set, a Stretch Armstrong, and some blow-up boxing gloves. The plastic pad/ helmet set will be the subject of a future story, by the way. My sister seemed to have gotten all she wanted. But, the feature present of the day, was a scope for Daddy's rifle.
My Dad was so excited about this particular gift. He had gotten it from Papaw, my Mom's father. My Dad immediately called his brother to brag. Now my uncle was well known for his hunting skills throughout the holler. And of course he teased Daddy telling him he needed a scope so he could actually shoot a deer instead of his car (another worthy story entirely). This phone-call totally set Daddy suddenly into a different mood entirely. He took me with him to the side window of the trailer facing the woods, opened it, and spotted a blue-jay on a limb about 30 feet away. He looked at me and said, "Watch this.", and lowered the barrel of the 30/30. He looked through the scope for what seemed like a minute, then pulled the trigger. KABOOM! Right from the hallway through the winder. I watched in disbelief as I saw a blue-jay burst into a fluff of blue and gray feathers. Something I'll never forget.
Then we all got bathed and ready for church. I got to wear my favorite hunter's green, felt/corduroy, double-breasted, 3 piece, leisure suit, with my cowboy print, green and yellow collared, dress shirt. Then we all got into the '64 Ford Falcon and drove the 1'4 mile to the church so that Daddy could preach the Christmas morning service. That is officially the first Christmas that I can remember. Oh, and we we returned from church, there was a deer-meat roast waiting for us. Merry Christmas!
REDNECK CHRISTMAS
It was Christmas Eve, 1976. I was 4 and my sister was 2. We had just hung a pair of my Dad's stinky black dress socks from the console record-player/stereo system with a piece of Scotch tape. I was really excited and a little nervous. You see, we did not have a chimney in our single-wide trailer out in the boonies, and the mailman could only find us about once a week, and he was from the area. Plus, my dad had his rifle all loaded, promising to get that red-nosed reindeer this year. Apparently, reindeer meat was "scrumptious". Now, don't get the wrong idea, my dad was a good-natured guy, especially around the holidays (he loved Christmas), but he was about as country as they come. Besides, Christmas was really all about the birth of the 8lb, 6oz. Baby Jesus, right?
OK I know I'm all over the place, just bear with me alright.
Anyways, we sat down to observe our 2 family traditions. One was the reading of "The Christmas Story"(Luke: Chapter 1 & 2), the other was the opening of our Christmas Pajamas. That year it was a pair of green and red striped one-pieces with a drop-bottom and "HO-HO-HO" written all over them (made by Mamaw) and yes, they had footies. We put out a plate of cookies and milk, and off to bed we went. Of coarse it was hard to fall asleep, with all the excitement, but after a little while, and a couple of spankings I might add, sleep I finally found.
Then at about 5:30 in the morning we were woke up by the boom of Dad's 30/30 rifle. He came in the house all upset cause he had "Missed that red-nosed reindeer once again, but he promised to get'em next year". Presents were everywhere, I remember it like it was yesterday. First we emptied our stockings, an orange an apple, some nuts, some chocolate coins, and a humongous candy can. They all smelled like feet, but we were excited nonetheless. I got an electric football set (you remember the ones that made a loud hummmmm and all the men ran in circles), a football, a palstic shoulder-pads and helmet set, a Stretch Armstrong, and some blow-up boxing gloves. The plastic pad/ helmet set will be the subject of a future story, by the way. My sister seemed to have gotten all she wanted. But, the feature present of the day, was a scope for Daddy's rifle.
My Dad was so excited about this particular gift. He had gotten it from Papaw, my Mom's father. My Dad immediately called his brother to brag. Now my uncle was well known for his hunting skills throughout the holler. And of course he teased Daddy telling him he needed a scope so he could actually shoot a deer instead of his car (another worthy story entirely). This phone-call totally set Daddy suddenly into a different mood entirely. He took me with him to the side window of the trailer facing the woods, opened it, and spotted a blue-jay on a limb about 30 feet away. He looked at me and said, "Watch this.", and lowered the barrel of the 30/30. He looked through the scope for what seemed like a minute, then pulled the trigger. KABOOM! Right from the hallway through the winder. I watched in disbelief as I saw a blue-jay burst into a fluff of blue and gray feathers. Something I'll never forget.
Then we all got bathed and ready for church. I got to wear my favorite hunter's green, felt/corduroy, double-breasted, 3 piece, leisure suit, with my cowboy print, green and yellow collared, dress shirt. Then we all got into the '64 Ford Falcon and drove the 1'4 mile to the church so that Daddy could preach the Christmas morning service. That is officially the first Christmas that I can remember. Oh, and we we returned from church, there was a deer-meat roast waiting for us. Merry Christmas!
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Wheelchair Date
Okay, first story on this blog......I have been trying to decide how to start this particular blog. I was going to start with an elaborate self-introduction, but when I did that on another of my blogs it took about 4 separate entries and ended up being way longer than expected. So for here I am just going to jump in with the stories and if you want to know more about the warped individual who writes these and where his inspiration comes from then you can CLICK HERE . So with little ado I now present STORY#1...... "Wheelchair Date"
OK, so here's the setting...I had recently been transplanted to Virgina Beach, VA., via USNAVY, from my home-town of El Paso,TX. I was very single and about 20 years old at the time and was missing my Hispanic girls of Mexican origin that I had always dated in my high-school years. I was mentioning this to a friend and he said he knew the perfect girl for me, but that I had to go to church with him to get an introduction. Since I was no stranger to churches, being a PK(preachers kid) I readily agreed and off to church we went on the follwing Sunday.
This was one of those HUGE super-churches and there were radical pew-jumpers everywhere, but my friend was able to find Rosalia immediately as she always sat dead-center, front row. Before church even started I had been intoduced to Rosalia (I loved that name, it just rolled off of her tongue sexily) had made small talk, flirted, and had asked her out on a date for Thurs. night. Which she accepted almost too enthusiastically. So I sat through the service in the seat right behind her, still flirting at opportune moments during the service. I was good at church flirting. So after the service we made some more small talk, confirmed plans, and exchanged phone #'s. As I was about to leave I noticed a man waiting at the end of the aisle with a wheelchair. Then to my surprise he wheeld right up to Rosalia and lifted her into her chair. SURPRISE would have been a huge under-statement, luckily she didn't notice the look on my face. I was like, "What have I got myself into this time."
Now, I consider myself a pretty good guy, but I was preety upset with my friend for setting me up like that. After I yelled at him for a few minutes on the way home, he said one word that caught my attention,"groundwork". He explained that Rosalia had only been in a wheelchair for a few monhts due to an auto accident on Prom night(PROM QUEEN of course), where she had broken or severed something in her lower back, and was paralyzed from the waist down. But that she was doing well in her Physiacal Therapy and would be walking again soon. He said if I treated her good now in her rough time I would be laying groundwork to having a way out of my league girlfrien when she was once again walking. And suddenly it all made sense to me, as terrible as that may sound. What? I was 20, SORRY!
Thursday night had finally arrived, and I had done my research for an awesome, and wheelchair convenient date. Rosalia lived about 20 minutes outside of town, in an area where there were no other houses within a mile of hers. Kinda reminded me of Arkansas. I went to pick her up and meet the family. I arrived around 6:30 and her Dad....BOM BOM BOM...met me in the driveway. He actually was a pretty nice guy, he showed me how to load up the wheelchair and how to transfer her to and from the chair itself. He instucted me to have her home by 1am because she had PT in the morning. And off we went.
We had great conversation in the car on our way to Olive Garden (seats with wheels for convenience) and had an awesome time at dinner. She was actually funny, intelligent, and in very high spirits considering her situation. I admired her courage, and her beauty. After dinner we proceeded to part 2, the movies. We of course sat in the back row, in the row that only has 2 seats so I could just wheel her right up next to me. I told you I did my research. We enjoyed the movie, if memory doesn't escape me I believe we saw "MO' MONEY". We even held hands with a few little pecks mixed in throughout the movie. I really liked this girl and was already planning our future, and I could tell that she was feeling the connection as well. The movie ended at around 11 and we really had no more plans so we decided to get her home early and call it a night.
We talked alot on the 30 minute trip and were within a mile of her house by 11:45 with still over an hour to spare before she had to be home, when she suggested I pull over in a little driveway off of the main road. It was a beautiful night, and being out in the country it seemed like there were a million stars in the sky just for us. We talked a very little bit before we were passionately making out in the car. As things were really getting intimate she stopped me and asked if I could carry her over to a particular tree about 100 feet off the road behind some big bushes. I did, and lo and behold hanging from one of the branches was to rope loops. She put her arms through the hoops and it was like she was standing right there in front of me. Her feet were about 6 inches off the ground, which made her perfectly my height. What a treat! We went back to making out, and eventually things got out of control. I hate to say it, but it was GOOD! Use your imagination, I won't embarrass you with the details. Well we finished up and got her back in the car at about 12:45. SHEW, 15 minutes to spare.
I drove her the rest of the way home. Got her out of the car, into the wheelchair, and up the ramp to her front door. We kissed good night, and I pushed her inside. Her parents were of course waiting up and greeted us at the door. Her mom wheeled her back to her room and I was left uncomfortably with her father. I could barely make eye-contact. He then reached out his hand and said,"Son, I really want to thank you." I assured him it was no big deal, that we had had a great time, and that he should be very proud of his daughter.(I was laying it on pretty thick). He said," No son, I really want to thank you." I said, Don't thank me. I had a great night." He then said," No son I really need to thank you..........All them other A-holes leave her hanging in that F!@#ing tree all night."
Rosalia and I are no longer together. She decided she wasn't going to let me push her around anymore. She just wasn't going to stand for it.
I know, I know. You're all mad at me now. The story is pure fiction, but it does have a bit of truth to it. I did meet Rosalia in those circumstances. I DID ask her out on a date for Thurs. night. She WAS in a whelchair. I WAS going to go through with the date. BUT on Monday of that week I saw Rosalia at the mall while I was shopping, I kind of did a double-take to make sure it was her, I was about to approach her to tell her how excited I was about Thursday, when she looked right at me and said,"What the F!@# are you looking at A@#-hole?". That was the moment that this story started brewing in my head.
Remember! To learn more about me visit me at www.thestorytellerblog.com
CHEERS!
OK, so here's the setting...I had recently been transplanted to Virgina Beach, VA., via USNAVY, from my home-town of El Paso,TX. I was very single and about 20 years old at the time and was missing my Hispanic girls of Mexican origin that I had always dated in my high-school years. I was mentioning this to a friend and he said he knew the perfect girl for me, but that I had to go to church with him to get an introduction. Since I was no stranger to churches, being a PK(preachers kid) I readily agreed and off to church we went on the follwing Sunday.
This was one of those HUGE super-churches and there were radical pew-jumpers everywhere, but my friend was able to find Rosalia immediately as she always sat dead-center, front row. Before church even started I had been intoduced to Rosalia (I loved that name, it just rolled off of her tongue sexily) had made small talk, flirted, and had asked her out on a date for Thurs. night. Which she accepted almost too enthusiastically. So I sat through the service in the seat right behind her, still flirting at opportune moments during the service. I was good at church flirting. So after the service we made some more small talk, confirmed plans, and exchanged phone #'s. As I was about to leave I noticed a man waiting at the end of the aisle with a wheelchair. Then to my surprise he wheeld right up to Rosalia and lifted her into her chair. SURPRISE would have been a huge under-statement, luckily she didn't notice the look on my face. I was like, "What have I got myself into this time."
Now, I consider myself a pretty good guy, but I was preety upset with my friend for setting me up like that. After I yelled at him for a few minutes on the way home, he said one word that caught my attention,"groundwork". He explained that Rosalia had only been in a wheelchair for a few monhts due to an auto accident on Prom night(PROM QUEEN of course), where she had broken or severed something in her lower back, and was paralyzed from the waist down. But that she was doing well in her Physiacal Therapy and would be walking again soon. He said if I treated her good now in her rough time I would be laying groundwork to having a way out of my league girlfrien when she was once again walking. And suddenly it all made sense to me, as terrible as that may sound. What? I was 20, SORRY!
Thursday night had finally arrived, and I had done my research for an awesome, and wheelchair convenient date. Rosalia lived about 20 minutes outside of town, in an area where there were no other houses within a mile of hers. Kinda reminded me of Arkansas. I went to pick her up and meet the family. I arrived around 6:30 and her Dad....BOM BOM BOM...met me in the driveway. He actually was a pretty nice guy, he showed me how to load up the wheelchair and how to transfer her to and from the chair itself. He instucted me to have her home by 1am because she had PT in the morning. And off we went.
We had great conversation in the car on our way to Olive Garden (seats with wheels for convenience) and had an awesome time at dinner. She was actually funny, intelligent, and in very high spirits considering her situation. I admired her courage, and her beauty. After dinner we proceeded to part 2, the movies. We of course sat in the back row, in the row that only has 2 seats so I could just wheel her right up next to me. I told you I did my research. We enjoyed the movie, if memory doesn't escape me I believe we saw "MO' MONEY". We even held hands with a few little pecks mixed in throughout the movie. I really liked this girl and was already planning our future, and I could tell that she was feeling the connection as well. The movie ended at around 11 and we really had no more plans so we decided to get her home early and call it a night.
We talked alot on the 30 minute trip and were within a mile of her house by 11:45 with still over an hour to spare before she had to be home, when she suggested I pull over in a little driveway off of the main road. It was a beautiful night, and being out in the country it seemed like there were a million stars in the sky just for us. We talked a very little bit before we were passionately making out in the car. As things were really getting intimate she stopped me and asked if I could carry her over to a particular tree about 100 feet off the road behind some big bushes. I did, and lo and behold hanging from one of the branches was to rope loops. She put her arms through the hoops and it was like she was standing right there in front of me. Her feet were about 6 inches off the ground, which made her perfectly my height. What a treat! We went back to making out, and eventually things got out of control. I hate to say it, but it was GOOD! Use your imagination, I won't embarrass you with the details. Well we finished up and got her back in the car at about 12:45. SHEW, 15 minutes to spare.
I drove her the rest of the way home. Got her out of the car, into the wheelchair, and up the ramp to her front door. We kissed good night, and I pushed her inside. Her parents were of course waiting up and greeted us at the door. Her mom wheeled her back to her room and I was left uncomfortably with her father. I could barely make eye-contact. He then reached out his hand and said,"Son, I really want to thank you." I assured him it was no big deal, that we had had a great time, and that he should be very proud of his daughter.(I was laying it on pretty thick). He said," No son, I really want to thank you." I said, Don't thank me. I had a great night." He then said," No son I really need to thank you..........All them other A-holes leave her hanging in that F!@#ing tree all night."
Rosalia and I are no longer together. She decided she wasn't going to let me push her around anymore. She just wasn't going to stand for it.
I know, I know. You're all mad at me now. The story is pure fiction, but it does have a bit of truth to it. I did meet Rosalia in those circumstances. I DID ask her out on a date for Thurs. night. She WAS in a whelchair. I WAS going to go through with the date. BUT on Monday of that week I saw Rosalia at the mall while I was shopping, I kind of did a double-take to make sure it was her, I was about to approach her to tell her how excited I was about Thursday, when she looked right at me and said,"What the F!@# are you looking at A@#-hole?". That was the moment that this story started brewing in my head.
Remember! To learn more about me visit me at www.thestorytellerblog.com
CHEERS!
Monday, November 10, 2008
Welcome to my blog
Thank you for visiting my blog. The purpose of this blog is to put in writing my most interesting stories. There will be no particular theme, all will be random. In my life I have accumulated many stories (mostly from my 12 years behind the bar) from others, and from life experience. People seem to like my stories and I am constantly urged to write a book. Sorry....no time and I hate being tied to correct grammar and proper segways. So visit often, have a laugh, and ENJOY!!!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
