Dec 30, 2018

Dec 27, 2018

How To Unlock Cars Using A Slim Jim

One of my many trucking related jobs was operating a tow truck. I actually got the job because I was licensed to operate and tow big trucks but most of our work involved cars.

I got a call to unlock a car late one night. When I got there 5 or 6 people were with the car and all were falling down drunk. While I was fishing inside the driver's door with my Slim Jim, one of his friends knocked the passenger window out with a brick, reached over and unlocked the driver's door. They all started shouting about how happy they were that I got the door open. I quickly got paid and got the hell out of there.

The driver was still thanking me as I sped away.

When dealing with drunks you don't already know, you never know if you are going to make new friends or have to fight them off with a tire iron. I've done both but always preferred speeding away.

Dec 26, 2018

Poppy Seeds

Speaking of poppy seeds...

Some years ago I injured my back while doing local deliveries so my employer sent me to the doctor. He gave me a muscle relaxer to take at night to help me sleep but failed to inform me that one of the side effects might be that I would be extremely angry as the effects wore off.

So I take the muscle relaxer for a few nights my back hurting like hell all day and come in one morning pissed to no end and start yelling right in the face of the biggest guy in the entire place. I'm 5'8" 200 lbs, he's 6'6" 300 lbs-- he ran for his life screaming.

So the boss tells me that when I finish my route I should go to the doctor's office and take a drug test. I look at him and say, "Okay, I'll eat a whole pack of poppy seed rolls for lunch and test positive for opiates so I can get some time off."

"If you do that I'll have to fire you," he said, "Company policy."

"Whatever you say," I said as I walked to my truck to start my route.

At lunch that day I ate 2 packs of poppy seed rolls just to make sure I tested positive for opiates then went to take my drug test at the end of the day. When I got there the doctor explained that my anger was a side effect of the muscle relaxer but gave me the drug test as instructed.

And I tested positive for opiates.

When the results came back the boss said, "Billy, I'm going to have to fire you."

"What for?" I grinned, the other drivers all listening in.

"You failed your drug test," he answered.

"You can't fire me for that," I said.

"I can't?" he laughed. "Why not?"

 I explained. "Company policy is only for the rest of you. When it comes to CDL truck drivers you have to follow Federal regulations."

"And what do the Federal Regulations say?' he asked smugly.

"You have to retest me in 2 weeks and if I pass you put me back to work and pay me my back pay," I answered as I handed him a copy of the little green book all drivers are required to learn.

I warned him. Two weeks later I collected my back pay and went back to work.

I don't feel bad about it, I needed the break and 25 years later my back still hurts.

Buy Organic

Remember: Poison Ivy is 100% organic.

Umoja, Kujichagulia, Ujima, Ujamaa, Nia, Kuumba, Imani


Red, black and green
but we don't have no tree,
and white folks don't get it;
first fruits, roots and free.
And Nguzo Saba,
our philosophy,
as we light the candles
of our identities.

Kwanzaa isn't a religious holiday but a celebration of life and and an affirmation of the seven principles of Kwanzaa, or Nguzo Saba (originally Nguzu Saba—the seven principles of African Heritage) as stated by the founder of Kwanzaa, Maulana Karenga.

And being that Kwanzaa runs from December 26 until Janurary 1 it seems perfect for the Holidaze. 

Dec 25, 2018

Why We Must Build The Wall

Brick and mortar simply reinforces the division. Increases the hate and the false sense of security as one side can no longer see or understand the storm brewing on the other side.

But most would rather be victimized and encroached upon by the politicians they vote for and the corporations those politicians represent than by refugees who come to us seeking our help.
The self-fulfilling prophecy cries out to build the wall. We have no choice.

Developers will tout the safety of living with your backs to the wall, communities will be built there as never before with incentives footing the bill. And the people living in the gated communities along the wall will enjoy the river that was once shared with the other side now left impoverished and dry as the waters are diverted for use only by the rich. Manifest Destiny has deemed it so.

And what was once poor refugees will then be courted and given aid by our enemies as an army is amassed, armed, and trained on lands outside of our control. Build a wall and what are now refugees seeking our our assistance will someday become the world's largest invasion force.

History repeats itself. Imagine a Palestinian Invasion Force that spans a wall 1,989 miles long, reaches from Texas to the tip of South America and a population of 600 Million people. The cost of buying security today at the expense of security tomorrow.

We must build the wall. We must make the
prophecy come true.

A Life’s Ambition Fulfilled

It was really cold when I went out before dawn yesterday morning. Of course it’s usually cold this time of year but as I lead Ringo, Larry, Gore, Dolly, Honey, Gumball, Pooter, and Thor from their assigned quarters to the staging area it seemed as if it was even colder than usual. I was really glad I was wearing the new high tech winter uniform, boots, and gloves as they’re no doubt the warmest available anywhere.

To say I was nervous would be an understatement. This is the day I’d waited my entire life to live, the day my team and I had trained for what seemed like a hundred years or more. If all went well and everyone did their jobs then the world would love us for eternity but a few mistakes would leave us forever in shame, afraid to show our faces in public or to face the families we’d all left behind so many years ago when each of us volunteered for this, the most secretive of missions.

As the team assembled in formation I turned to see the big guy walking out of his office right on time just like he was always on time-- just like everyone in the company is always on time. “Attention!” I shouted, “Officer on deck!”

“At ease,” the big guy ordered as he looked over my steely-eyed young team, each one’s breath steaming with every exhale-- their only movement the heaving of their chests, and breathing as if that too was in-time, “Jones!”

“Yes Sir!” I shouted.

“They look sharp, ready to go.”

“Yes Sir,” I replied, a snap in my voice. “They are ready to go, Sir.”

“They better be.” the big guy replied. “You only get one shot at it, if you fail then history will never be the same.”

“Yes Sir.”

“Is the equipment ready?”

“Ready Sir, I inspected it myself, Sir.”

“Very well, Jones. Tell you team to suit-up, it’s time to roll.”

“You heard the man,” I shouted to the team. “Suit-up, let’s roll!”

A flurry of activity ensued as my team and I changed into our flight suits while dozens of loaders and technicians loaded equipment and payload, secured parachute harnesses, and made the last minute inspections of our craft. My team and I had logged months in the classroom, thousands of hours in simulators, and hundreds of hours in real flight practice, but this time it was different-- this time it was do or die.

And so it was, early yesterday morning I sat at the controls listening to my two-way radio for runway clearance as the big guy and all the ground support looked on, and when the order came I keyed my mic. and shouted to the team, “Now Ringo! Now Larry! Now Dolly and Gore! On Honey! On Gumball, On Pooter, and Thor!. To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”

And with that my sleigh rose from the ground and blasted South towards civilization, one thousand, two thousand, three thousand... over three thousand miles per hour with eight tiny reindeer pulling me from house to house, around the world in 24 hours delivering Christmas presents to all the good boys and girls. Maybe you saw me fly past your window or heard the tiny hoofs of eight reindeer landing on your roof? Maybe you heard me laugh, “Ho, ho, ho,” when I found the snacks you left for me? That’s right, the big guy finally retired and I’ve been promoted to Santa Claus.

If you get the chance feel free to drop in at the North Pole for a visit sometime. If not then maybe I’ll see you next year. Remember, I know who’s been naughty and nice. --Billy Claus

PS. I guess I've got to get busy changing the lyrics to all those songs: Here comes Billy Claus, here comes Billy Claus right down Billy Claus Lane... It's got a nice ring, don't you think?

Dec 24, 2018

Christmas, Stuck On Red

Santa's stuck at a traffic light.
The darn thing's stuck on red.
We can see him there, just down the street,
his red cap on his head,
his reindeer pawing at the street
a waitin' just to go.
Come on, Santa, run that light!
Santa just says, "Ho, ho ho."

Someone called the police,
tole 'em,"Santa's on his way."
The police, they could only laugh,
said, "Of course, it's Christmas Day."
But the police didn't understand
Santa's stuck there at that light
waiting for it to go green
just like he's done all night.

The children, they're all crying now,
waiting for Saint Nick to come,
shouting, "Come on Santa, run that light,
this waiting's just not fun."
But Santa, he'll not run that light,
Santa, he'll not break the law.
Santa's stuck there at a traffic light
that hasn't changed since Fall.

The street is lined with traffic now
and the horns begin to blow.
People shout, "Get on your way, old man!"
Santa just says, Ho, ho, ho.
It's not polite to run a light
and it's not safe to boot,
so me, I'll just await my turn
as on your horns you toot."

Will Christmas ever get to us?
Will that light go back to green?
Will Santa ever run that light?
Will the people start to scream?
Will the children all stop crying
and does anybody know
will Santa ever run that light
and why does Santa say... Ho, ho, ho?

The children, they're all crying now,
waiting for Saint Nick to come,
shouting, "Come on Santa, run that light,
this waiting's just not fun."
But Santa, he'll not run that light,
Santa, he'll not break the law.
Santa's stuck there at a traffic light
that hasn't changed since Fall.

"Merry Christmas to all and to all a green light."

Soldiers On Christmas Eve

By dark of night the soldiers came.
So quickly it began.
So stealthily they made their way
to carry out their plan.
And when each one had took his place
as each had been assigned,
they waited ever ready
to execute commands.

They totaled thousands, maybe more,
and many more stood by.
“Their enemy is surely doomed,”
the witnesses did cry.
And though we knew not why they came,
we’ll remember oh so long,
these soldiers who invaded us
and then were quickly gone.

And when their orders came to them
the night of Christmas Eve,
we watched in silence, wondering,
and thought what will it be.
They carried with them, presents
for every child in need
and gave the gift of love
to all who will believe.

Merry Christmas to children and soldiers everywhere.

Dec 23, 2018

Merry Christmas, Daddy

My daddy was always a big kid when it comes to Christmas. He couldn’t wait for Christmas Day to arrive. I’ve long suspected that if Christmas Day was on December 26th, instead of the 25th, he might just keel over from the pain of waiting just one more day. I just don’t think his heart could of handled it.

Daddy did all the things children do when the presents start appearing under the tree in the weeks before Christmas. On more than one occasion my brothers and I caught him secretly unwrapping the presents with his name on them, and try as he might he could never re-wrap them in such a way that Momma wouldn’t find out. She even knew he was lying when he tried to blame us boys for unwrapping the presents.

There were several years when we wrapped the presents and numbered them instead of writing names on the tags so that he wouldn’t know which presents were his. Momma kept the list hidden safely away inside her head so that Daddy wouldn’t get his hands on it and figure out her numbering system. Somehow we all knew that wouldn’t stop him from unwrapping the presents when he managed to find himself alone in the house.

We even went so far as to put boxes inside of boxes so that Daddy wouldn’t figure out so easily what sort of treasures were hidden inside. Other years we loaded boxes with rocks, bricks, and newspapers, wrapped them in fancy paper, and put them under the tree as decoys while the real presents remained hidden in some place only my mother knew about. That way Daddy wouldn’t bribe one of his sons to tell him where the presents were hidden. While he never mentioned it to anyone, we could always tell when Daddy had opened a box of rocks. We didn’t even have to check the packages as the worry that he might actually be getting a box of rocks for Christmas shown on his face.

Daddy was also a notorious “Shaker.” You know, someone who picks the presents up and shakes them in hopes of figuring out what might be inside. Momma would always shout, “J.B. Jones, stop that! You’ll break something.” And my brothers and I would always be quick to agree, scolding him as much as sons could get away with.

One year, my brother Bobby came in with a huge box almost three feet square, all wrapped in pretty paper, and placed it under the tree. “Who’s that for?” Daddy asked, the suspense showing on his face.

“I’m not telling,” Bobby replied.

“Can I shake it?” Daddy asked.

“No you can’t shake it,” Bobby fussed. “You’ll break it.”

“Well I know it’s not for me,” Daddy replied, “It’s too big to be for me. Must be for your mother, why can’t you tell me what you bought her?”

“ ‘Cause it might not be for Momma,” Bobby replied. “It might be for you.”

“Let me see whose name is on it?” Daddy asked.

“Six,” Bobby replied. “It’s for six.”

“Oh, no,” Daddy complained, “don’t tell me we’re doing numbers again this year.”

That box remained right where Bobby had left it for days. Though he never moved it we all observed Daddy eye-balling that box day after day. At night, when we all gathered to watch television, Daddy’s attention always reverted to that big box just a few feet from his favorite chair. We knew he was watching and waiting for his chance.

On Christmas morning my mother passed out the presents. Momma has always insisted on two things that she prefers to do herself. One is putting up the Christmas tree and the other is passing out presents all by herself. We all waited as Momma pulled the presents from under the tree, called out the name that corresponded with the number on the tag, and delivered the present across the room to it’s waiting recipient. Gift after gift she avoided the big box as we all waited to see who it might go to. Finally she pulled the big box from under the tree and looked at its number. “Wait,” Daddy warned, “I gotta tell you something. I got to get it off my chest.”

“What is it?” Momma asked.

“It’s about that box,” Daddy replied.

“What about that box?” Bobby asked. “Did you open it?”

“No, I didn’t open it,” Daddy replied. We could all see the guilt that had been wearing him down for days.

“Well what about it?” Momma asked.

“I shook it,” Daddy replied. “I only shook it a little bit but I think I broke it. I’m sorry, I’ll buy another one for whoever it’s for, I promise.”

“That’s okay,” Momma said as she looked at the number on the tag. “I guess you’ll learn a lesson this time. You’re number six so this present is for you.”

Daddy didn’t say a word. He simply looked at the box as if he was scared of it. As he slowly raised the box up from the floor I asked, “Are you sure you broke it?”

“Pretty sure,” Daddy said as he shook the box one last time. We could all hear the sound of broken glass emanating from inside the box. We all assumed that the contents of the box were beyond salvaging.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Bobby asked.

“What for?” Daddy replied. “It ain’t no good to me now.”

“You might be able to salvage some of it,” I replied, realizing what was about to unfold.

“Or glue it back together,” Momma added.

Slowly Daddy removed the paper from the box. Inside was a common brown cardboard box like is used for shipping freight. Daddy pulled his pocket knife from his pocket and cut the industrial strength packaging tape Bobby had used to secure the lid of the box. Finally Daddy opened the flap to reveal a box filled with nothing but broken bottles, rocks, and broken dishes... The joke was on him.

The Festivus Pole

We all stand around the Festivus Pole,
no candy, no cookies, no stockings with coal.
It's shiny and pretty but no blinking lights
as we all air our grievances and get into fights
but when it's all over we'll still have our soles
as we eat Ben & Jerry's from boxes and bowls.

"Festivus for the rest of us" but we only get poles?

Dec 21, 2018

Ol’ Saint Chopper Claus

Ol’ Saint Nick bought a chopper.
He rides it through the air.
The reindeer, yeah they’re all real pissed,
and they don’t think it’s fair.
With presents in the sidecar
he blasts across the sky,
drag-pipes roaring through the night
to keep ol’ Santa high.

With real chrome pipes,
fat bob tanks, ape hangers, and fins,
Saint Nick’s got a custom scoot
fine as there’s ever been.
And when he cranks the throttle,
Dude, you oughta hear it roar!
An’ that ol’ dude, he really rides,
and always at full bore!

Miss. Claus, she claims male menopause
has gotten to the man,
and says by Christmas Eve
he’ll have all he can stand,
but Saint Nick’s at a biker bar
gettin’ all the chics
while the elves, they guard his chopper
threatening all who pass with bricks!

Yeah, Saint Nick, he’s a biker now.
He’s headin’ up the gang
sayin’ “Ho, ho, ho, I live to ride
and go out with a bang!”
The elves, they all ride mini-bikes
while Santa leads the way
with presents in his sidecar
to deliver Christmas Day.

With real chrome pipes,
fat bob tanks, ape hangers, and fins,
Saint Nick’s got a custom scoot
fine as there’s ever been.
And when he cranks the throttle,
Dude, you oughta' hear it roar!
An’ that ol’ dude, he really rides,
and always at full bore!

Santa Don’t Wear Lipstick

I told her I was going out;
just me and all the boys.
Might do a little shopping,
maybe buy the kids some toys.
I said, “We’ll see ol’ Santa,
be in before too late.”
I guess I should have shopped alone.
I made a big mistake.

I didn’t mean to do it.
It wasn’t all that great.
My buddies said, “Let’s down a few.
Man, you need a break.”
So I went down to the juke joint,
down at the local bar,
but early the next morning,
my wife, she used the car.

And she said,

“Ol’ Santa don’t wear lipstick
and reindeer don’t wear pumps,
and neither wears a garter
or thongs around their rumps.
So Buddy, don’t you tell me,
and Buddy, don’t you lie
‘cause I’m about to kick your butt
an’ kiss your Christmas bye!”

It was right there in the back seat,
the presents, she had found,
but a thong and just one pump’s
not enough to go around.
An’ when she saw the lipstick
on my collar and my face,
was nothin’ I could do
except to hide my face.

“And where are all my presents?”
my baby said to me,
“A garter and a single pump--
that’s not enough for me."
So maybe by next Christmas
she won’t think me a louse,
and I can come inside,
get out of this dog house.

‘Cause Santa don’t wear lipstick
and reindeer don’t wear pumps,
and thinkin’ ‘bout that garter
has got me in the dumps.
“So Baby, I won’t tell you.
No Baby, I’ll not lie
for you’re about to kick my butt
and kiss my Christmas bye.”

Dec 20, 2018

Canned 'Possum

I went out shopping for last minute stocking
 stuffers and Christmas presents today only to
come home and discover this canned possum hiding in the recycling bin on my back porch. It's not unusual for animals to check out the recycling but this little guy actually walked right through a bowl of fresh cat food  to get into the recycling can.

I donno, maybe he has an arrangement with my cat. I decided to wish him Happy Holidaze and let him be.

I’m An Accessory

(The Day After Christmas)

There's reindeer poop in my front yard,
an' sled marks tell his track;
ol' Santa's headed for the pole,
an' he ain't comin' back.
The police, they're a lookin'.
Seems Santa's jumped his bail.
And if they ever catch him
they'll throw his butt in jail.

I met ol' Santa at the mall.
He said, Let's down a few.
That he was gonna hit a liquor store
was something I never knew.
An' so it is I'm hidin' out,
the police lookin' for me.
It was Rudolph kicked the front door in
an' I'm an accessory!

So Santa, he's a fugitive,
an me, I'm on the lam.
There's no one to look out for me,
an' I ain't got no plan.
Do you think they'd believe me.
Do you think they would be hard
if I told 'em I don't know a thing
'bout the poop in my front yard.

I should'a been knowin' better
than to run 'round with those elves
who come to town but once a year
to blow off steam themselves.
I guess the pressure got to them
with that big deadline to meet
so they're out there ransacking stores,
an' tearing up the streets.

So buddy can you help me
with a dollar or a dime.
It's real cold where I'm going;
snows 'bout all the time.
Gotta get my butt to the North Pole,
an' it's gonna be real hard
'cause the police are a lookin'
at the poop in my front yard.

I met ol' Santa at the mall.
He said, Let's down a few.
What he an' his elves was plannin'
was something I never knew,
an' so it is, I'm layin' low,
the police lookin' for me.
It was Rudolph kicked the front door in,
an' I'm an accessory!

It was Rudolph kicked the front door in,
an' I'm an accessory!

Dec 18, 2018

Christmas In Nashville

Drinkin’ sour mash from Santa’s head,
relax, put my guitar to bed,
the Christmas lights, they’re turning red
and hanging in the street.

Park the truck, let’s take the test,
give rational thought its needed rest.
It’s then I’m at my very best.
And get off of my feet.

A superstar, yeah, some folks say,
but I can’t stand it one more day.
Come tomorrow, all will be okay.
It’s a taste that can’t be beat.

So pour a tall one just for me.
It’s Christmas time in Tennessee
and no one cares where I may be,
so now I’ll take my seat.

For all my friends out there in Nashville who are just now finding out it’s just as hard there as it was back home. I think you’ll all know what I mean.

Dec 17, 2018

Holidaze Again?

Holidaze again? Who came up with that bright idea? I haven't gotten over the last holidaze--house full of people, most I don't know. Though all are somehow related. Children, puppies, cats and my poor rooster so confused with all these strange creatures in his tiny barnyard. Sorry, I know how you feel, Mr Green Jeans, but your incessant crowing and drumming of wings isn't helping just now.

Who thought it was a great idea to bring dogs and cats? Why is that cat on the table and who put that puppy in with my laying hens? Poor things might not lay for months, scared as they are.

Did I lock up my guns? What if the kids get a hold of one? They're not my kids, why do I have to worry about them? If that kid doesn't stop crying and wailing I might shoot him myself-- put both of us out of our misery.

Of course we're just tired. We've been working for days. First everything had to be cleaned up for the guests-- now we have to clean up after the guests. Why does everyone have to come to my house, their houses are all bigger.

Whose baby is playing in the street? No, I don't know the baby's name. Last time I saw the baby's momma she was playing in the street. I think that's my brother's grandbaby but for all I know it's just some kid someone dragged in off the street.

Holidaze again?

Santa Got Run Over By A Reindeer

Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.

The air was cold, it was a blizzard.
The FAA. had closed the skies.
While most folks were stuck in airports,
Santa hitched the reindeer up to fly.

Mrs. Clause, she tried to warn him.
Said, Christmas could come one day late.
Santa scoffed, and said, "No way, Dear.
Come on Rudolph, let's not hesitate!"

Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.

It was early in the evening
cause our house is his first stop;
on the roof there was a clatter
of reindeer hoofs a goin' clop de clop.

Rudolph's nose was shining brightly,
doing well to light the way.
Had we known just what was happening
then we could a helped him with his sleigh.

Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.

Santa grabbed his bag of presents,
down the chimney to our tree,
but when ol' Santa went back up there
he banged his head into ol' Dancers knee.

Dancer screamed, "Look out, they're coming!"
thinking hunters were about.
As the team took off a flying
the sleigh swung 'round to knock dear Santa out.

Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.

The Red Cross came to pick up Santa,
then they threw him on a cot,
said, he'd be laid out for hours,
and when he woke he wouldn't do a lot.

I asked my dad, "What about Christmas?
What of the other girls and boys?
Even though we had our Christmas
the other kids would not be getting toys."

Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.

Daddy said, "We have no choice, Son.
We'll have to do the best we can.
Go inside and tell your mother
we're taking off, we'll be back when we can.

The air was cold there in the blizzard.
At least the reindeer knew the way,
and when they stopped I held the reins
while Daddy grabbed the bag out of the sleigh.

Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say they don't believe in Santa.
If that's the case then I guess they'll not grieve.

Was early on, on Christmas morning,
the reindeer brought us back to town.
Santa said, "I owe you big time!
I'll fix you up when I come back around."

Santa got run over by a reindeer
when he came to our house Christmas eve.
Some folks say there's no such thing as Santa,
but he'll be back come next year, Christmas eve.

Yes he'll be back come next year, Christmas eve.

Dec 16, 2018

Presents For Lori

Stockings hang from the mantel;
I’m trying to dry my socks.
That tree blocking my window--
yeah, I bought it in a box.
The presents there beneath it--
yeah, I bought them all
an’ wrapped ‘em all in newsprint
I found at the mall.

(Gift wrap is expensive, you know.)

There’s presents for Cindy,
presents for Sue,
presents for Lori.
Oh yeah, she got two.
Presents for Mandy;
they’re gone and I’m blue.
And presents for girls
whose names I once knew.

Each year I go shopping,
buy the sweetest things
to give to the girl
who makes my heart sing,
but each year they dump me,
alone, and so blue.
But what about their presents;
what am I to do?

There’s presents for Cindy,
presents for Sue,
presents for Lori.
Oh yeah, she got two.
Presents for Mandy;
they’re gone and I’m blue.
And presents for girls
whose names I once knew.

I went to the mall;
to the package return,
but the lady there laughed
when I said I’d been spurned.
She called me a looser.
Said, I’m probably a creep
so I took back my presents
and started to weep.

There’s presents for Cindy,
presents for Sue,
presents for Lori.
Oh yeah, she got two.
Presents for Mandy;
they’re gone and I’m blue.
And presents for girls
whose names I once knew.

So now when they leave me
I don’t take them back.
(Oh, I’d take the girls
but they never come back.)
But their presents I keep
‘neath the tree in my room
as a constant reminder
of relationship’s doom.

There’s presents for Cindy,
presents for Sue,
presents for Lori.
Oh yeah, she got two.
Presents for Mandy;
some old and some new,
and presents for girls
who I never knew.

And presents for Lori.

Dec 15, 2018

Christmas Comes Late This Year

Greensboro, NC, This just in: Wackemall Network News has learned that Christmas will be delayed this year while the Greensboro Police Department investigates the most horrific of Holidaze crimes. Police have arrested one suspect who claims...

I was sitting by my Christmas tree
hoping Santa'd soon fly by
when right out front on my front lawn
a present had arrived.
I don't know where it came from
'cause no one would dare to say,
but I never had expected this,
not even on Christmas Day.

Someone pooped on the snowman
there in my own front yard.
I'd like to go and scrape it off
but it's frozen really hard.
I don't think I can stand it
when it thaws it's bound to stink.
Someone pooped on the snowman
and I don't know what to think.

My telephone started ringing,
the neighbors, they complained,
"Are you planning just to leave it there?
You must be quite insane."
Then they called the police
to send them to my house,
wake the kids, scare them all to death,
and they even woke my spouse.

(And you know how she hates that.)

The police brought a warrant,
said, "We're gonna take you in.
We'll get to the bottom of this,
we're sure you live in sin."
I cried, "I didn't do it
you're arresting the wrong man,"
but the cops, they wouldn't listen
and threw me in the can.

They loaded up the snowman.
"It's evidence," they said.
When they showed it to the magistrate
his face turned really red.
"You know you're just the kind of skum
our town, it doesn't need.
Lock him up and loose the key,
give him something sad to read."

The inmates started screaming,
"He's stinking up the place.
Get him and that snowman out,
they're both a big disgrace."
Then forensics and detectives,
they scraped off all the poop,
stuffed it all in plastic bags
and hung it on the roof.

(They said it needed to dry out first.)

Someone pooped on the snowman
and me, I'm still in jail
mopping up thawed evidence
and trying to make my bail.
The poop went to the crime lab,
and you know it's just my fate,
the crime lab's closed for the holidays
so I'll get my Christmas late.

Said the crime lab's closed for the holidays
and for Christmas I'll just wait.

Will somebody please call Crime Stoppers and tell 'em I'm an innocent victim?

Dec 14, 2018

Jingle Bells And Taco Shells

Jingle Bells and taco shells, Jose` Santa’s on his way
with candy filled pin`atas and goodies on his sleigh.
He’s calling out to Rudolph, “Uno, dos, tres, quatro,
Deer you’ll be too fat to fly if you eat one more taco!”

Jingle Bells and taco shells, Jose` Santa’s on his way
He’s sleigh is filled with presents so we wish that he will stay.
For months and months we’ve waited for Jose` Santa to come here.
Forget warm milk and cookies, serve him burritos and beer!

Jingle bells and taco shells, Jose` Santa’s on his way.
Sure, the dude’s a gringo but we love him anyway.
Manuel, he wants a pick-up cause his donkey always falls.
Margarita wants a boyfriend, says she’s tired of little dolls.

Jingle bells and taco shells, Jose` Santa’s on his way.
He’s coming to the barrio and he’s got something to say,
“I come each year at Christmas, leave you presents, ho, ho, ho,
but the children that I love the most live in the barrio.”

“Ho, ho, ho, Merry Christmas to the barrio.”

Dec 13, 2018

A Christmas Tree For Laura Lee

"Welcome to Basters Flats, Pop. 18"

The sign stood in the center of town as there were only 6 closely spaced houses in the entire town and no one saw the need to put up two signs. Like many small towns, folks in Basters Flats had dreams of making their community grow but Basters Flats had a very unusual problem. You see, Basters Flats was surrounded on 3 sides by a United States Military base with tall chain link fences topped with razor wire that rudely halted the town's expansion.

There was only one road in all of Basters Flats and because the road was a seldom used entrance to the base the gate was almost always padlocked. Twice in the last 15 years the military had moved some very unusual looking trucks through the gate and in both instances Howard Watson-- the lifelong mayor of Basters Flats and owner of 4 of the 6 houses there-- had to bring out his angle grinder and about 300 feet of extension cords to grind the rusted old locks off the gates. With the exception of the mayor and several housewives whose back doors the mayor was said to slip in and out of from time to time, everyone living in Basters Flats had to travel 3 hours each way to go to work and school on the military base. No one from the Military ever explained why they weren't allowed to use the shortest route through the gate at the edge of town and if the mayor knew he wasn't telling.

In the other direction the road barely skirted by the edge of Mount Stuckup which was named Mount Stuckup because it stuck up a few thousand feet above the flat plain where Basters Flats and the military base were located. Fact is, other than Mount Stuckup there wasn't another mountain within 100 or more miles of Basters Flats. Some folks claimed the military put the mountain there but the mayor assured them the mountain was there before the military bought what had once been the mayor's cattle ranch.

It was along about the middle of November at a meeting of the town council-- Mayor Watson, his brother Walter Watson the town prostitute Sally Struthers (not the one from TV) met to discuss what the town should do for the holidays, "Mr. Mayor," Councilwoman Struthers began, "I motion the town decorates a Christmas tree."

"I second that motion," Thelma Watson called out.

"Thelma," Councilman Watson replied, "you can't second a motion 'cause you ain't on the town board."

"I'm the Mayor's wife and if I want to second a motion then I'll second a motion. And if you try to stop me you won't have a couch to sleep on tonight even if you are my brother-in-law. Do you understand me, Walter Watson?"

You see, in small towns politics really do make strange bedfellows and as one of the women the mayor just happened to be seeing on the side was his brother's x-wife the mayor had decided the least he could do was let his brother sleep on the couch. And while Thelma might have secretly known about the mayor's little indiscretions she also knew how to get her way. "All in favor?" the mayor shouted.

"I, I, I!" the Mayor, Councilwoman Struthers and the Mayor's wife shouted."

"But where in the world are we going to get a Christmas tree?" Councilman Watson complained, "There ain't no kind of tree within a hundred miles of here, not nary a one."

"Yes there is, Daddy," a little girl shouted, pointing to the top of Mount Stuckup. "Yes there is. right up there." It was Councilman Watson's 5 year old daughter, Laura Lee.

"I don't know," the mayor cautioned, "nobody's ever climbed Mount Stuckup even in the summer and there's already snow on the top of the mountain. Your Daddy might get hurt climbing that mountain."

"My Daddy can do anything," Laura Lee insisted. "Please Daddy, can we have that tree?"

So early the next morning Walter Watson hoisted his pack, filled with camping gear, climbing gear and about a week's supply of freeze dried rations to his back and started his assent up the never before climbed Mount Stuckup just minutes after the sun arose in the sky.

The climb was hard but not as hard as he had expected it to be. As a matter of fact Walter began to wonder why it was that no one had ever climbed the mountain before. Reckon nobody ever saw the need to climb it, Walter thought to himself. By the end of the first day he was almost half way to the top of the mountain so he pulled his walkie-talkie from his belt and called down to the folks still watching from below. Only problem was he was already out of radio range so he pitched his tent and waved to everyone below just so they'd know he was safe.

Early the next morning after chowing down a cold ration of freeze dried oatmeal and washing it down with cold coffee, Walter packed-up camp and continued his trip up the mountain. The second half of the climb took him 4 days but when he awoke the next morning he took his first swing at the Christmas tree even before he fixed his breakfast.

Of course what no one had figured on was the fact that the tree which looked just about the right size from below was actually a monster of a Christmas tree that must have stood over 50 feet tall with a trunk almost 3 feet thick. Being that Walter had grown up in Basters Flats he had never done any real tree cutting but he'd watched enough lumberjack competitions on ABC's Wide World Of Sports to have a pretty good idea of how it was done so he began his notch in such a way as to drop the tree just outside the town limits on the side of the road in hopes that all would be okay. Besides, he thought to himself, the whole town's watching and they can see it from a mile away.

It took him about half a day to cut down the tree but finally just before noon Walter felt what he was sure every lumberjack felt as he watched his tree start to topple just exactly the way he had planned. As the tree disappeared from his view he smiled and said, "Laura Lee was right, her daddy can do anything."

From that moment on Walter was a changed man. No more would he sleep on his older brother's couch or allow himself to be pushed around by his sister-in-law. He owned the house his X was living in even before she married him and if she wouldn't have him back he'd throw her out of the house and raise little Miss Laura Lee all by himself if he had to. And he was going to quit paying Sally Struthers for sex too. Walter knew full-well he was her only customer and if she wouldn't give it up for free then she could find another place to live as well. You see, Walter and Howard were both half owners of Sally's house and her days of trading out the rent were over.

Walter did a lot of thinking on his way back down that mountain. The fact that he was the first man to ever mount Mount Stuckup ought to count for something and did he need to remind anyone that Basters Flats had never before had a Christmas tree? Yep, Walter Watson was certain he was the first hero Basters Flats had ever produced and the next time the Military needed someone to let them out of the base he would be the one to grind the locks off the gate. "Hell," Walter snorted, "When I get down I'm going to grind the entire gate off them rusty old hinges. Ain't no reason a town should only have one way in and one way out. Ain't no reason at all."

As Walter walked into town early the next morning he saw the Christmas tree standing straight as it could be in what looked to be his brother's front yard but before he could get a closer look Sally can running out to meet him. "Walter, we need to talk."

"We can talk. We can talk a lot but first I'm going to make my brother move that tree out of his front yard and into my front yard."

"That's what I came to talk to you about," Sally said as she reached to grab Walter's hand and kissed him on the cheek. "Something bad's happened to your brother."

"What's wrong with Howard?"

"He's dead," Sally answered, her voice cracking and her lips trembling. "He's dead, Thelma's dead and so is your X, all dead."

Suddenly Walter was feeling weak at the knees. "What happened, what about Laura Lee, is she okay?"

"Laura Lee is fine. She's asleep at my house. She's been at my house since before it happened."

"Well what happened to Howard?"

"Bastard's flat," Sally answered. "The tree came right through the roof of his front bedroom and mashed the bastard flat right there in his king sized water bed."

"And Thelma and..."

"Flat too. They was having a threesome when the tree plunged through the roof and killed all three of them."

So now you know why acting Mayor Walter Watson decided to rename the town, Basters Flats.

Dec 12, 2018

Ice Melt

Someone stole the snowman.
He was there just yesterday.
They stole the snow that surrounded him,
where the children love to play.
There won't be any snowball fights
or angels on snow covered ground,
'cause someone stole the snowman
an' the thief cannot be found.

Dec 11, 2018

Buddy, the Dog, And the Christmas Tree

In August of nineteen seventy-seven I married a beautiful young debutante. I was twenty-one, Terry was twenty, or so she said, but she was beautiful. We fought like cats and dogs, usually about money, but sometimes I think she just insisted on getting her way. Usually, she did.

We had been married for about a month when she started acting really weird. When I would get up in the morning she would be all smiles, but by the time I finished getting dressed Terry would be sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor wailing and crying her eyes out while my breakfast went up in smoke. “What’s wrong, Baby?” I always asked. “Don’t worry ‘bout burning my eggs. I like ‘em that way. It’s okay, really it is.” I was trying to be nice. Really, I was.

“I don’t care about the eggs!” she would wail.

“Well, what’s wrong?” I would ask again.

“I don’t know,” was always her reply.

I decided I had married a crazy woman so I went to talk to my daddy about all the strange goings-on at my house. Daddy laughed and said, “Well, it sure looks as if I’m going to be a grandfather.”

“Really,” I asked, “which one of my brothers done gone and got some girl knocked up?”

“Not your brothers, Son, you.”

“Not me Daddy, I’m married!”

“Trust me, Son. Take Terry to one of those women’s doctors and he’ll tell you the same thing.” I did and Daddy was right. It was only then I began to realize how smart the old guy really was.

From that point on, Terry got her way even when she didn’t want her way. I know that sounds confusing, but I was pretty confused at the time. How was I going to take care of a baby when I only took home eighty-six dollars a week, and Terry was too sick to work at all? I was a nervous wreck and would agree to just about anything to avoid another fight, and that girl would fight about almost anything.

Like I said, Terry got her way even when she didn’t want her way, so when she brought home a puppy I said yes even though the landlord had strictly forbid pets of any kind. The puppy didn’t cry nearly as much as Terry would have cried if I had of said no. Besides, we all know who ran the house, don’t we?

Buddy-- that’s what she named him-- was a mix between a Saint Bernard male and a Border Collie female. Don’t ask me how they managed that but they did. Buddy had all the markings of a Saint Bernard but in miniature. He was even shaped like a Saint Bernard. A year later, when he was fully grown, people would still think he was a Saint Bernard puppy, but that’s getting ahead of the story.

As I said, we didn’t have much money, so when it came time for a Christmas tree, Terry, Buddy, and I walked across her daddy’s farm, and when Terry found just the right tree, I chopped it down. It really didn’t look any different from the first tree we had looked at three hours before, but Terry thought it to be the prettiest Christmas tree in the whole world. ‘Nuff said.

Because we didn’t have any money for decorations, we decided to make our own. While Terry burned the ginger bread santas, I strung miles of popcorn with needle and thread. Some red and green construction paper, and a bit of gold flakes went a long ways toward making ornaments, and peppermint candy canes would hang almost anywhere. I have to admit that in all my years I’ve never seen a Christmas tree so beautiful. There was no money for presents but the tree made up for it.

As we only owned one running car-- the other was on blocks in the yard-- Terry would gather-up Buddy and take me to work everyday. I could have rode my motorcycle but it was a cold winter, and I didn’t yet own a leather jacket or warm gloves. One evening when Terry came to pick me up at work, Buddy wasn’t with her. “Where’s Buddy?” I asked. “Is he okay?”

“I left him at home,” Terry replied.

“But he’ll run out into the street.”

“No, silly. I left him in the house.”

“Oh, he’ll be fine, but if he makes a mess you have to clean it up.”

As I followed Terry into the front door of our home, she began screaming, “Oh my God! Oh my God!” I didn’t yet know what she was screaming about until I saw the Christmas tree laying on the floor, decorations in shambles, and Buddy no where to be found. Terry started screaming something about who would do such an awful thing and what did they do to her little dog, Buddy? “What will they do to him?” she cried.

I quickly surveyed the room. There were half eaten santas and torn candy cane wrappers all over the room. I noticed one of the popcorn strings lead behind the couch so I began to follow it. Just as I suspected, there was Buddy trying to eat his way to the end of it one kernel at a time. He really looked hilarious, and even Terry stopped crying long enough to laugh at him before resuming her tirade. I didn’t think it would be safe to pull the string out so I sent Terry to get a pair of scissors and cut the string about three kernels in front of his nose. “I’m going to go over to Daddy’s and see if he’s got a dog chain we can borrow.”

“But you can’t make him stay out in the cold,” Terry said with tears in her eyes.

“Listen, he’s half Saint Bernard and they like being out in the cold. Besides, if that popcorn comes out the way it went in, he’ll be dragging it all over the house.”

That’s when Buddy learned to live outside.

Dec 10, 2018

Party At The Kringles!

There’s a party goin’ on at the Kringles.
Them reindeer really love to rock ‘n roll.
There’s a party goin’ on at the Kringles.
It’s the kinda’ joint most people never know.

They’re always havin’ fun at the Kringles.
Rockin’ Christmas songs most every night and day
‘cause time is drawing near, the elves are drinking beer,
an’ Misses Claus let’s Santa get his way.

You oughta’ hear the band down at the Kringles.
That Rudolph, he’s a rock ‘n rollin’ star.
Antlers pounding on them drums, havin’ lots of fun.
Prancer dances nude while Dancer plays guitar.

There’s a party goin’ on at the Kringles.
Them reindeer really love to rock ‘n roll.
There’s a party goin’ on at the Kringles.
It’s the kinda’ joint most people never know.

There’s lots of pretty girls at the Kringles,
though most are kinda’ short an’ really green,
but they’re happy to see you, and Man, I swear it’s true,
their skirts, the shortest that you’ve seen.

There’s a party goin’ on at the Kringles.
Them reindeer really love to rock ‘n roll.
There’s a party goin’ on at the Kringles.
It’s the kinda’ joint most people never know.

It’s time we made our way to the Kringles.
A party at the North Pole would be fun.
An Saint Nick, he’s so cool as he’s breakin’ all the rules,
eatin’ fruitcake, drinkin’ liquor by the ton.

Dec 9, 2018

Maybe Frosty Can Dig You Out

Be Careful What You Wish For
Twelve inches, Twelve inches, was that what you planned?
It's still coming down-- all you can stand.
They've closed all the schools, the buses can't go
just because, you wanted some snow.
Your pantry is empty, cupboard is bare;
you need to go shopping but no one is there.
The stores are all closed, restaurants closed too.
I guess you'll be boiling your old leather shoes.
The power's gone out, you can't build a fire
so you put on more clothes, pile the covers up higher.
You're trapped in your house with no place to go
because you thought you wanted some snow.

Six Inches

“Six inches, six inches,”
and she yelled, “I want more!”
as she stomped both her feet
and slammed all the doors.
But it’s only six inches
and I can’t make it grow
so she’ll just have to wait
‘til the clouds make more snow.

Dec 8, 2018

Christmas Therapy

Santa Claus is feeling down.
He's stuck in therapy.
His shrink, he says, "Just take a break,
forget the kids, just think of me.
Take off all the time you want.
The kids will still be there.
And about those deer and flying sleigh,
forget that whole affair."

Dec 7, 2018

Santa Send Me Someone New

(For Christmas)

Oh Santa send me someone new for Christmas;
someone who laughs at every joke I tell,
someone who’s really sweet,
an’ thinks I’m really neat,
someone who likes to do it ‘til I’m...

Well, Santa send me someone new for Christmas;
someone who things I’m really, really swell,
someone who holds my hand,
an’ really understands,
someone who likes to do it ‘til I’m...

Well, Santa send me someone new for Christmas;
someone I can kiss and always tell,
someone who’s great in bed,
an’ likes to get ahead,
someone who likes to do it ‘til I’m...

Well, Santa send me someone new for Christmas;
someone who’s really glad I’m a male,
someone who thinks I’m cool,
an’ don’t think me a fool,
someone who likes to do it ‘til I’m...

Well, you know what I want, Santa. I’ve been really good...

And so it is, the Holidaze continue here at with page after page of original holiday poetry, short stories and humor you'll find no where else. Just think of it as my Christmas present to you.

Dec 6, 2018

Two Eagles Talking-- Holidaze Edition

This Holidaze edition of Two Eagles Talking, an exclusive of, is made possible by fat guys wearing red suits. And the cults they represent.

 "Did you know that once a year they stop stealing and robbing from each other and give to one another?"

"Really, when does that happen?"

"Every December, as sure as the sun rises in the east."

"Why do you think they do it? Could it be because they feel guilty about being so mean the rest of the year?"

"I think it's to spur their economy."


"Well if all they ever did was steal there'd be nothing left to steal so once a year they give so they can keep their economy working." 

"Humans sure have a strange economic system."

Photo credit: Tim Van Horn.

Dec 5, 2018

Wind Powered Holidaze?

Alternative Energy Christmas

Santa's stuck in a windmill.
He was flying without lights.
His sleigh and harness all wound up.
They've been that way all night.
The reindeer, they are all worn out
from hanging upside down
and Christmas might not come this year
'less someone cuts them down.

Photo via Steve Sever

Dec 4, 2018

Santa Runs A Sweatshop

Ol’ Santa runs a sweatshop,
that’s what the papers say.
He never gives the elves time off,
not even Christmas day.
I read it in the paper.
They told it to be true.
I read it in the New York Times.
Oh what are we to do?

So I turned on the TV.
On came the newest flash.
Ol’ Saint Nick got caught
with loads and loads of cash.
They said they would investigate,
call out the CIA.
There’s agents headed north right now.
They’ll get there late today.

They said he is a mean old man
who forces elves to work.
If one should try to leave,
Rudolph hits them where it hurts.
He’ll kick them with his bony hoofs
or stick them with a horn.
They say that he won’t let them leave
and they have all been warned.

They say they are not paid,
that all the elves are slaves.
He works them morning, noon, and night.
He’ll work them in their graves.
It’s seldom that he feeds them
so they must all eat bugs.
They find them in the work shop
underneath the dirty rugs.

They interviewed the Pope in Rome.
He said they’d break all ties.
He said they’d take his sainthood back
if one more poor elf dies.
“It really is a shame,” he said,
“that old Saint Nick is bad.”
Pope John Paul said it troubles him
that the elves are all so sad.

Then they called the President
who said that we’ll send troops.
“It’s time elves had their freedom.
Let’s free them from their coupes.”
He’d go before the UN too
and ask for all their help.
“It’s high time that we set them free.”
He might go there himself.

They sent men there to check him out.
It took so many days.
They occupied the whole North Pole.
It looks like they will stay.
They’re poking all around the place.
There’s no work going on.
Santa says he’ll cancel Christmas
if they’re not all soon gone.

They tried their best to catch him,
then said he’d done no wrong.
It seems it was a big mistake.
The papers are all wrong.
The elves all have nice houses
and drive in brand new cars.
They go out on the town at night
and hang in wee elf bars.

The elves have lots of money
and spend it all so fast.
It seems that elves have got it all
and they’ve got lots of cash.
The papers then admitted
they forgot to check their source.
They blamed it on somebody else.
It’s not their fault, of course.

But then a few days later,
again, we heard bad news.
They said that there are hookers there
to chase away elves’ blues.
I’m not sure I believe it.
It really is quite awful.
I checked the headlines once again,
seems Santa runs a brothel.

The above story written in rhyming verse is an excerpt from my book, Carrot On A Stick. I hope you had fun reading it.


Snow is like far-away relatives
who visit but every few years--
when they get here, we’re happy to see them.
‘For they leave us we’re in tears.
We cannot wait for them to come--
can’t wait for them to go--
but they’ll be back too soon
just like the fallen snow.

Dec 2, 2018

Greensboro Tree Services

Saturday Night Reindeer Fights

Late last night a reindeer fight erupted on my block.
With hoofs and horns they showed their scorn
I thought they'd never stop.

They fought in gangs while elves, they sang
a Christmas melody of silent nights and sweet delights
underneath the Christmas tree.

Then Santa came, "This is a shame that you would fight this way!
What if the little kids find out how you've behaved today?"
"We're Bloods and Crips,: young Rudolph quipped, "I'm calling all the shots!
So shut up Red or you'll be dead." as by his beard he gripped!

'Twas with a bang and then a clang, Rudolph kicked Santa to the ground!
The other reindeer only stared as the elves, they'd soon surround.
Then Santa rose and touched his nose, "That smarts," I heard him say,
"Now go back home where you belong and don't behave this way."

Late last night a reindeer fight erupted on my block.
I don't know how it all worked out but I'm sure glad it stopped.

It would appear that gang culture has invaded even the North Pole. What's next, gang banger action figures and collectors' cards in every box of bullets? 9 millimeter candy? Bling in cereal boxes?

Dec 1, 2018

Happy Hanukkah From Wackemall

Had the Jews thought of incorporating Pagan traditions like trees and Santa Claus into Hanukkah, Judaism would now be the world's largest religion and Hitler would have been killing Christians in concentration camps..

Think about it,
Hanukkah, also written as Ḥănukkāh and/or Chanukah and known as the Festival of Lights and the Feast of Dedication is the celebration of the retaking of Jerusalem and re dedication of the Temple by the Maccabean Jews on the 25th day of Kislev-- the first day of  Hanukkah, one of many of the Holidaze various religions celebrate this time of year.

Most Christians celebrate a virgin birth on the 25 day of December-- think about it.

Interestingly enough, many modern day scholars say this was part of a war between the Maccabean Jews who won and the Hellenized Jews who lost control of Jerusalem. These same scholars believe the Hellenistic Jews were among the first to convert to Christianity some 3 to 5 centuries later.

While Christians simply co-opted most of the Pagan winter rituals and rites, when it came to Jewish traditions they felt the need to top them. And thus the 9 day celebration of  Hanukkah became the Twelvetide, affectionately known around the world as, the 12 Days of Christmas, and still practiced by several more orthodox Christian groups.

Sometimes wars are won off the battlefield.

This year Hanukkah begins on Subday, December 2, 2018 and lasts until Monday, December 10, 2018. But things could have happened very differently.

Enjoy the Holidaze, hope we all have many more. Oh, and Happy Hanukkah.