Monday, May 26, 2003

Memorial Day

We finally finished the too breif family reunion that we had when Sean came home for a visit. I have created an album of photos here. The pictures have been saved for the Web, so the quality ain't so great. If you want the "good" pictures, let me know.

Monday, May 05, 2003

Sorry, Pete!

I owe an apology to Pete Townsend. I have made a lot of jokes at his expense the last few months. And then I went to Wal-Mart today.

I got in line behind a gorgeous brunette who was a head shorter than me. She was wearing a black top, white shorts, and who cares what else. Let me tell you that her legs were fabulous! Her quads curved seductively to her knees, while her calf muscle delicatly sloped to her ankles.

As she opened her wallet to pay for her purchase, I spotted her driver's license. (It was below her breasts. I couldn't help but notice.) Dammit! She was under 21! As Jimmy Carter said, I lusted in my heart, and that's why I must apologze to Pete Townsend. Of course, I didn't give her my credit card and call it research.

Saturday, May 03, 2003


I bought a smoker pit today. I tried to buy it at Wal-Mart, but they only had one that they had put on lay away for someone else. So dad and I drove to Kerrville and stopped at Lowe's and bought one.

We spent the early afternoon putting it together, and then we turned to Dad's latest toy, a 7 foot tall windmill. I don't know why he got one. The only time the wind blows around here is when a storm blows in.

Friday, May 02, 2003


Luckenbach is having a motorcycle rally this weekend. Don't get your hopes up. It's not going to be real bikers. Just lawyers and doctors from Houston and Dallas who trailer their bikes down. Poser bikers, really.

Poser bikers are really annoying. They spend thousands of dollars on the proper outfits: Harley jeans, Harley boots, Harley socks, Harley wallets, Harley belts, Harley shirts, Harley dew rags, and, no doubt, Harley motorcycle trailers to go behind their SUVs. I bet they even have Harley cell phones, pagers, and answering machines. Then, they come to Fredericksburg, demand the nicest place for the cheapest price and bitch because we don't do cartwheels for them.

Bah! Tourists!