Do You Know What Today Is?


Pig Writes:

Greetings

Greetings

Well it’s March 1, 2013 and do you know what that means?

It’s time to pay that house payment – Yes.

Need to go to the grocery store and stock up – Ah Huh.

Still need to file my taxes – Yeap, that too.

What else is there about March 1st?

It’s Friday – the weekend is here, Yea!

Your getting close, keep trying.

Oh, oh, oh, I know. It’s Share a Smile Day.

Smile!

Smile! (Photo credit: sirwiseowl)

Wow, you’re getting warmer, here’s a hint. What coincides with Share a Smile Day?

I know, I know, it’s Peanut Butter Lovers Day.

Peanut butter is a semi-solid and can therefor...

Peanut butter is a semi-solid and can therefore hold peaks. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Your getting warmer, try one more time.

You say you can’t think of anything else it could be?

I just can’t believe you, Don’t you know March 1st is National Pig Day.

Pig

That’s right folks today is the day we all pay homage to the pig – in other words to ME!

Devil's Marbleyard: Pig

Devil’s Marbleyard: Pig (Photo credit: Vicky TGAW)

Oh joy, oh joy all hail Pig!

Thank you, thank you you may now kiss my hove.

Advertisements

One More Step Up


 

Greetings to all my Pig fans out there.

 Best Buddies

I have great news today. 

 

There are times in our lives when we achieve great accomplishments.

 

Like drinking our first beer.

 

Or scoring your first (real) phone number from a hot babe.

 What a smile

Perhaps it could be the first time you reach 100MPH on a motorcycle and still be in 3rd gear.

 

For writers it could be your first cover story on a magazine.  And that is what has been accomplished for me.

 

Yeap, squeeze me til I squeal cause I just got my first cover story writing for Thunder Roads Texas Magazine.

 

I’m so happy about; I wanted to share it with you all. 

 

It’s a story about two people falling in love and riding off into the sunset together.

 Isn't she pretty

Read it and tell me what you think.

 

Ride HARD or Stay Home.

 

Pig

 

 

This is God’s Country, Don’t Ride Through it Like Hell.


 

Greetings,

 

For those of you who didn’t hear, yesterday I spoke of an event so powerful it will change your life. 

 

An event so awesome that there will never be another one like it. 

 

This event is guaranteed to remove any and all symptoms of cabin fever or broken heart syndrome.

 

“Is there a catch to it” you ask?

 

Only one, you just have to be there.

 

We are three days and a awake up from the St. Valentines Day Massacre hosted by the Alamo City Gypsy’s.  This year the Rally will be in Hondo at the Medina County Fairgrounds.

 

There will be beer & B.B.Q..

 

There will be babes.

 

There will be bands with live music.

 

I am sending this out as a personal invite for all to come and enjoy a weekend of the biker lifestyle.

 

Leave me a reply if you are going or not.  For those of you who cannot be there letme know so I can drink a beer in your honor.   

 

The Winter Months Take Thier Toll


 

Pig Writes

 

 

Greetings to all my fine friends and companions.

 Got a Light?

Has the winter months been getting you down?

 

Did you NOT get everything you wanted for Christmas?

 

Did the 49’ers loss in the Super Bowl put you into a state of depression?

 

Or maybe you have a touch of the cabin fever?

 

Let me guess: Your girl friend just dumped you so she wouldn’t have to buy you a Valentines Gift?

 

Stop all that flubbering.  Put down that bag of Cheetos.  Dry your eyes and blow your nose.  Because I have great news just for you. 

 

We are 4 days and a wake up from a great event.  It is an event so powerful it will change your life.

 

Are You Ready For This?

 

It is now 4 days till the St. Valentines Day Massacre.

 

Yeap. Starting this Friday and running until Sunday there will be 3 days of pure biker partying.  And let me tell you buddy; this is one rally I am pumped up for.

 

I want you to make plans to be there, because come rain or shine we are gonna tear it up and I want you to be there standing (or leaning) right next to me.

 So come on down to South Texas for a party you will not soon forget. (Unless you wake up that way)

I’ll be back soon with more details.

 

Ride HARD or Stay Home.

 

Pig

 

Writes Block


 

Greetings Piglets,

 

It’s your master of home
disasters here once again for another bull session.  Ever have one of the kind of day when you try
to come up with a new blog page to post, but you just can’t come up with
anything new to write about.  Well that
is just what I am going through.

 

I read a post the other
day from the word bitches that addressed the very problem I am having.  Trish Loye Elliott had 10 ways to help
motivate those with a little bit of writers block. I have to say they were all
good ideas for me to try.  Unfortunately
none of them worked for me.  Please allow
me to explain.

 

It was suggested to
have/use a “clean and quite work area”.
Pig Pens don’t work that way, they are muddy, dirty and loud.

 

It was suggested to
“schedule time for writing”.  Hard to do
when it interrupts your beer drinking.

 

I tried jogging like it
was suggested.  Nope, I spent all my time
running from the dog catcher.  Can’t
write when you are out of breath.

 

Trish also said to take a
shower.  Now this did start to work.  I began to relax and thoughts came to my
head.  Sadly, they all left when I got
out of the shower.  Mom started yelling
at me for all the mud I left in the shower.
Now I think she is going to need therapy.

 

I tried the writing
friends too.  But that didn’t work, they
all drink wine instead of beer.

 

So I switched to
music.  Nope, kept hearing beer drinking
songs
.

 

I had one last try to
make.  I tried reading quotes.  I’m not sure if it worked or not.  But I did find one quote I liked

 

“Our greatest weakness
lies in giving up.  The most certain way
to succeed is always to try just one more time”
Thomas A. Edison


Thomas Edison

Thomas Edison (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

So I wrote this blog
page.  Does that count?

 

Another Christmas Story Part Three


Pig Writes

The bike is ready to go

The bike is ready to go

You know that if I screw this up – you will be the one who will have Hell to pay”, the craftsman informed his wife.

It was decided to forgo the stars and stain on the toy box. It would look much better painted.

Over the next few days the craftsman toiled with wood putty and sandpaper.

The final product was smooth and soft to the touch.

Touching the wood with my fingers I could feel the love and devotion hard work makes.

Finally painted and finished the toy box looked good. It looked professional.

Only the person who crafted this work of art knew where his flaws were.

Yet one lingering question remained.

Would the toy box be good enough for the sister in law.

misc 025

Christmas Eve had come. It was time to load the toy box in the sled and deliver it to the nephew.

Before the man and has wife could pull away I sneaked into the back of the truck. I wanted to see what the reactions would be. I wanted to see for myself what I had hoped would be a miracle.

The craftsman was on his way to meet his nephew. He would hold him in his arms for the first time. He would be able to show his nephew what he built for him.

In the driveway of the sister in law house, the craftsman unloaded the toy box from the truck. It was placed gently in the garage.

I watched from the rear window of the truck as the sister in law walked around inspecting the toy box.

It was the moment of truth.

She did not smile, she didn’t so much as nod her head.

She gave her brother in law a halfhearted hug for all his effort. You could tell it was a fake.

The craftsman and his wife returned to the truck and we all drove home.

Along the way I had to ask a question I already knew the answer to. “Well, did she like it?”

The craftsman never said a word, his wife only said “Nope”.

Not another word was spoken the rest of the way home.

Part four: the conclusion of our story will posted on Christmas Eve.

Ride HARD or Stay Home.

Another Christmas Story Part Two


Another Christmas Story Part Two

Pig Writes

A whole week went by and the materials sat there in the shop. Not a tool was pulled off the shelf nor a pencil sharpened.

His mind raged on in battle as to why he must face this task.

misc 021

A task for a nephew he never met, for a sister-in-law he could not tolerate.

She cut him down in the past for his beliefs forged in the “old school” ways. He learned it was better to keep the peace, to mind his own business and keep to himself.

Now he is tasked to build something for the one person he despised the most.

The plan to build the toy box was simple, a few cuts of wood, a dab of glue along with a few screws and the toy box would be put together in a few hours. Yet he could not bring himself to the shop and start the project.

His heart was not in it.

His heart was not in it for all the wrong reasons.

It wasn’t the nephew’s fault.

But then Friday came with news of a horrible tragedy.

Twenty children and six adults would lose their lives to a madman.

The laughter silenced. The joy gone.

Those left behind will bear great pain for their loss.

Something changed inside the man’s mind. There was now movement in his heart.

Early that Saturday morning the work had begun. The tools of his craft were dusted off, cleaned and oiled. Blades were sharpened. Everything was ready to go.

I watched off to the side as the man got busy with his work. What he did once before as a young man now was a bit harder for him to do. The paunch of his fat belly strained his back, his tired eyes required prescription glasses instead of safety glasses. It was most certain he was not the same young man as long ago.

I watched as he toiled to make measurements and cuts. His written plans and drawings were more like notes scratched on paper to serve as reminders to him. The plan in his head being transferred to his hands. It didn’t take long before the raw materials began to take shape of a toy box. He continued working throughout the day. Only stopping for the occasional smoke break and a drink of his Dr. Pepper.

misc 017

I asked him once during the day why he was going through all this work if he really didn’t want to. His only reply was “I have my reason.”

Singular.

That meant only one reason why.

I pondered as to what that one reason was.

At the end of the day the mans wife came out to the shop to see the progress made.

A smile grew on her face for she was pleased in what she saw.

Before her stood a grand toy box and shelf.

The wood was bare, the edges were rough-like the man who built it.

She loved him with all of her heart.

After a pause, the wife looked at her husband and asked “Where will the stars go?”

Stars?”, the man & I looked at each other, “What stars?”

Ride HARD or Stay Home

Pig.