Frankieleeee's Blog

Whatever boils over over here!

120202 Lunchbunch raids another Golden Corral near Dayton. We were free; we were loose; we were skiing on the soft white slopes of Bob’ carrot cake — OOOOPS! almost lost that one, CB

with one comment

120202 Perhaps we’d better fit “Sleepy head; Bob sleeps in the morning immediately upon arrival at the restaurant (here at Golden Corral in Kettering OH); you’d think Wee-Willie is a circus performer in that afternoon the way she can balance Scrabble (copyright til you die), reading the current literary offering from her favorite author, yawning and deftly managing to balance sleep and yawn on the cusp of her afternoon. CB doyd quietly with slight complaint and I curse (under my breath) and scream (inside my head – sometime from being pissed off at the pain and the pain itself. Kelly the “I’ll be your server person today”…. whirls in on the Texas two-step from the prevent little room filled with condiments, towels, utensils and mops. The visiting preacher at the next table clears his nose and rinses his mouth to save us all from turkey and dressing showers and prayers for our souls and our bodies which are to partake, with a special plea thrown in to not let all that grub and all them bug parts and pieces and all that fat and grease kills us before lunch (dinner, he calls it) is over.

Merle Haggard …. used to be one of my favorite country singers…had a song about “two kinds of” in a song called “My Kind of Hat…’

Lyrics to My Own Kind Of Hat :

(Merle Haggard)
Cowboys and outlaws, right guys and south-paws
Good dogs and all kinds of cats.
Dirt roads and white lines and all kinds of stop signs
I’ll stand right here where I’m at
Cause I wear my own kind of hat.
There’s two kinds of brother, two kinds of lovers
Two kinds of babies to hold
There’s two kinds of cherries, two kinds of fairies
Two kinds of mothers I’m told I’m told

Written by frankieleeee

May 29, 2012 at 12:26 pm

One Response

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  1. Any chance you come with your own words to “Mamas dont let your babies grow up to be Cowboys”?

    Mamas, dont let your babies grow up to be Scrabblers….


    You keep a pickin’ – – and i’ll keep a grinnin’ ! YEEEE HAAAAAAAAW!


    June 2, 2012 at 4:54 pm

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