Them are some purty concepts. Of course, conceptually, there’s a feller out there that’s as tough ‘n ornery as Pecos Bill, but I ain’t met that feller yet. Conceptually, folks are smarter than cattle, but ain’t none of my longhorns paid me tuition for the privlige of bein’ herded.
I ain’t a singing feller, but when the thunder is hollerin’ I holler back. Tain’t in the hymnal, but I reckon this here song is all right. (more…)
You kin eat beef but you caint eat national prestige.
This here Waxman-Markey strikes me pretty much lahk shootin’ yerself in the dadburn foot in the hopes the other feller will do the same.
After the Clinton Administration took it away from ’em in the arly 90s, it ‘pears the flyboys in the Air Force is sidling back to the idear of reusable spacecraft, ones that can go up and come back down again and up again and down again. Wull, don’t ask me, boys. What I puts in arbit stez in arbit.
If’n you know what’s good for you.
Relief Society Enrichment Meeting
Shoot, they oughta pay me to jine. I’m Pecos Bill.
This intellectual cuss says he reckons he savvies why some states are blue and some are red. (more…)
They kin regulate my breathing when they pry my lungs from my cold, daid mouth. Not ‘fore then. (more…)
I AM the milishy, all by my lonesome. Yeehah!
Laser fusion. Yee-hah!
Freeman Dyson. Yeehah!
