The Dead Pony, the Warped Kid, and the World’s Most Horrible Mother

The phone rang one day.  Without introduction, I heard the familiar, deep voice of one of my son’s friends.  “Miss Linda, is that story about the pony true?”

“Yep!”  The last thing I heard was gales of laughter as I hung up.

If you are the sensitive type, skip this story.

Many years ago when my son was young, we were hauling a load of tree trimmings to the landfill.  As my husband backed the truck up to unload, I spotted a dead pony, bloated with all four legs stuck up in the air.  Without thinking, I said, “Hey, John.  Do you want a pony?”

Of course he said, “Yes!”

“Well, there’s one right over there!”

“Wahhh!!!!!”

I swear it was not intentional.  Sometimes I think there is a disconnect between my brain and my mouth!

 

This is for you, Lee Perkins

Evening Chuckle/Crow and Road Kill Study

A recent study on crow intelligence was released recently observing crows at an intersection.  There was a distinct pattern in which they took paint samples from crows that had been run over and matched to vehicle types.  It was observed that nearly all the paint samples had come from trucks, not passenger cars.  The scientists researching the incident explained it as the crows had established look out birds so that they could alternate feeding on trash and road-kill, while the others looked for danger.  The lookouts, while able to produce vocalizations for “cawr, cawr, cawr”, found “truck, truck, truck” much more difficult.

The Dead Pony, the Warped Kid, and the World’s Most Horrible Mother

The phone rang one day.  Without introduction, I heard the familiar, deep voice of one of my son’s friends.  “Miss Linda, is that story about the pony true?”

“Yep!”  The last thing I heard was gales of laughter as I hung up.

If you are the sensitive type, skip this story.

Many years ago when my son was young, we were hauling a load of tree trimmings to the landfill.  As my husband backed the truck up to unload, I spotted a dead pony, bloated with all four legs stuck up in the air.  Without thinking, I said, “Hey, John.  Do you want a pony?”

Of course he said, “Yes!”

“Well, there’s one right over there!”

“Wahhh!!!!!”

I swear it was not intentional.  Sometimes I think there is a disconnect between my brain and my mouth!

Fleas Go Home for Christmas, Willie Tharpe

Daddy wasn’t just a magnet for strange characters.  He beat the bushes to flush them out.  If that hadn’t worked, I believe he’d have up tacked up posters.  Mother had no way of anticipating who he might drag in for supper, overnight, or until further notice.  I never did understand why she didn’t murder Daddy.  He must have slept sometime!

Evil Larry Update

Since a lot of you seemed to enjoy hearing about my cousin Evil Larry who tormented my poor brother so, I thought I’d give you a little more.  Like I said, we were periodically subjected to cousinly visits, whether or not we wanted them.  Hence, Evil Larry was often around to inflict mayhem.  Once he stood on a fence post in our front yard shouting racial

Miss Ruby and the Bagwells

The companionable thing about growing up in the fifties and sixties in the rural South was that everyone went to the same school, churches and knew everything about everyone.  When the women got the kids off to school, beds made, dishes done, wash on the line, and the beans on to soak for supper, they might have a little time to visit a neighbor for coffee before heading home to get the baby down for a nap, finish their