I am aware that some people are “offended” by the use of the word retarded.  Well, this is not the correct web address if you are easily offended.  And is it wrong to use the R word if I’m referring to myself?  NO!!  And if you don’t agree to any of this…..well, then…..you either need to click to a different website or you, yourself are retarded.  

        A week ago Wednesday morning, I was just like every other FFA/4H livestock judging coach.  “Well hell!  They cancelled Big 3 Field Days.  I need to cancel some hotel rooms.”  I had some other choice words that passed across my brain and therefore, without control, directly out of my mouth.  But since I was by myself at the time, nobody knows what else I said.  That is a good thing. 

       A few minutes later, Clay Hamil called.  He is the ag teacher at Arnett.  He was upset and he asked, “Why don’t you see if we can have a contest at Woodward?”  And this is where my retardation comes in to play.  I was too, or to, or two stupid to say no.  

      I contacted Bailey that runs the Woodward County Event Center & Fairgrounds.  She told me that there were open dates.  A few texts, several phone calls and HOLY SCHNIKES!!!  This is getting ready to be fur real.  We were getting ready to have a livestock judging contest.  Bailey went to scheduling things with judgingcard.com.  Clay went to hunting hog classes and I walked over to the ag pickup and slammed my head in the door a couple of times.  Then I went to gathering classes.  I emailed Mrs. Abbey to make a flier.  AND THEN it really got retarded.  Amber Rhinehart texted and said, “What can I do to help?”   Wait, what?  How does anybody else know?  She is the ag teacher at Fargo.   So, I asked her to gather group leaders.  She did.  

        Let’s set the record straight.  This was not my original idea.  Hamil just threw a slow-pitch toss to me and dared me to hit it.  And it got hit.  And I had a lot of help.  

        This was not a slam at OSU for cancelling BIG 3.  I don’t agree with their cancellation but we all knew it was coming.  I, and lots of others, were not going to just sit and watch this current BS to cause kids to lose another year of activities.  THAT, being this shut-down environment, is what is actually retarded!  I didn’t care if we went to Stillwater or Woodward.  Dad gum it!  (sure, I use those words!)  We are not going through another shut down.  You can.  It’s your choice.  And we choose not to.  That’s it.  That simple.  

       So, since I am obviously retarded, why did I do it?  Here is the following list.

1–For the kids.  

2–For the kids.

3–For the kids.  

       I am a cocky bastard but I absolutely love it when ag teachers can work together for a common good.  The newly founded ECATA–Ellis County Ag Teachers Association–rocked this deal in conjunction with Bailey and Thad at the Woodward County Fairgrounds.  Throw in the Woodward Chamber of Commerce, Bank of Western Oklahoma, Arnett New Holland, etc.  We had great support!!  I literally had to turn away people that offered to bring animals, cook lunch (too many people to provide a free lunch)…that’s a good problem, to have too much help.  

     All of the help from other ag teachers, parents, students, etc. that served as officials, group leaders and brought animals.  HUGE THANKS!!

      Thanks to Daryle Greer for providing two breeding doe classes; Mike Weber for a breeding ewe class; Troy Gosney & Shane Curry for a breeding gilt class; Clay Hamil for going to OSU to get a couple of market hog classes (they weren’t going to use them); Denny Jenkins for the Angus bull class;  Clayton Washmon for the commercial heifer class and the wether dam ewe class. (He fiddyed one class and not the other..typical)  And John Q. Kelln for the red Angus heifer class.  

      High Plains Technology Center–they kicked ass.  First off, the superintendent of HPTC, Barclay Holt, volunteered the services of Jamie Spillman to bring the 1 Cylinder diesel engine ice cream maker.  Yes, it is what you think it is.  Just an old, one hitter engine that turns a couple of large ice cream buckets.  Yeah, it is wicked cool!  And several HPTC employees came to serve and some of those also worked as group leaders.  Huge thanks!!

Did I mention FREE ice cream????    I think that a couple of people were coming to chew my ass, but they got handed a cup of free home-made ice cream.  And then they got in a better mood and forgot what they were mad about.  

         Here’s the deal.  I’m a sucker to do retarded stuff when I know there is a good cause.  And there were lots of good reasons to do this.  And LOTS of good help to make it happen.  It wasn’t easy.   I guarantee you that Clay and I will agree that it would have been way easier to go to Stillwater and mark cards for 3 days.  But, that option was not available.  So, here we are.  Until you’ve sorted and gathered stock for a livestock evaluation event, you have no room to gripe.  It’s way easier to show up, mark cards and complain.  

Thank you to all that helped or attended.  That’s all I got.  Thanks and thank you.  

In the words of Joe Farris, “There hasn’t ever been anybody in a bad mood when they are eating a free cup of home-made ice cream.  GENIUS!!”  

How about that?   You didn’t even see it coming.  In this blog, we segued from Retarded to Genius and you didn’t even notice. 

The question is….

Where do you fit?  

I know my place. 

A lot of the first and I know people in the latter.  

     Without a doubt, this blog deal is way scarier on the backside.  

If I was to ever show anybody that texts that come from you clowns.  Picks of rusty ice picks, etc.

The other day I got a text of a picture of a door.  I don’t know which is worse.  That one of you sent me a pic of a bathroom stall door.  OR the fact that I recognized it as a bathroom stall door in a Buc-ee’s!  Just wrong. 

Tonight, something about stuffing the onion harvest in pantyhose while drinking bourbon.  I’m not sure what to even say about that.  I know he was dealing with his garden but…..onions…….in pantyhose?   There is surely a joke there. 

WALK AWAY!!!

Speaking of scary….that Kedrick ain’t afraid to take on a goat herd dispersal.  700+ head?  No problem.  He’ll make it work.  In all actuality, it may be genius.  He just picked up a whole new genetic bank to go back on what he has already developed.  Cool!  As for me, I cringe at the thought of THAT many female goats to deal with.  Shudder.  

I have a new “olympic” sport.  I catch grasshoppers and throw them into the chicken pen.  Ravenous is the word that comes to mind.  Those birds go at em.  And it’s way better than watching some ass-clown that kneels or won’t salute our flag.  If they can’t stand and salute, leave their asses at home.  Better yet, send some chickens.  They look awkward running but they can catch a grasshopper and rip it to shreds. 

It’s scary that you all read this stuff. 

Peace out. 

Sometime next week, I will give the final answer as to just how retarded I truly am.  I know that most think that I register real high on the dumbass thermometer.  I may have blown the top off the measuring device.  

Speaking of stupid.  Here’s a story straight out of the way back machine.  

      Back in the summer of ’93, I graduated from the great cow college at Stillwater, OK.  At that time, there were not many ag-ed teaching positions open in Oklahoma.  And there was a big class of graduates from that spring, the fall and spring before that were all looking for jobs.  I wasn’t going to go out-of-state and I wasn’t going to the one or two positions that were open in far southeast OK.  Basically, I was being picky.  It ended up working out for me.

      In the meantime, I kept busy.  Kind of.  One afternoon, a buddy of mine named Nick, loaded up with me and went to cruising backroads.  We came back through Shattuck to get more supplies and we picked up another passenger named Brucey.  At that time, he was the ag teacher at Shattuck.  We continued to make our rounds checking country road signs.  

      We ended up at a place right on the OK/TX line east of Higgins, TX.  The Little Rebel.  It was a pool hall and burger grill.  Since the Rebel sat on the OK side of the line, they also had another barn that held monthly cock fights.  Yes, it was still legal in OK at that time.  

      Anyways, the three of us decided to stop in and shoot some pool.  We were minding our own business, when another crew came in.  This crew had been hitting the beverages pretty hard.  The mouthy one of this crew was looking for a fight.  He made several remarks about some of my Kelln relatives.  Distant cousins that I really didn’t even know, but I had enough and it started to get physical.  But the owner of the place broke us up with her sawed-off pool cue.  That old lady was prepared to beat us with that stick.  

      I went back to playing pool.  This lasted for a few until his mouth started running again.  So, for fear of getting beat by a cut-off pool cue wielding old lady, we headed outside to settle it.  His crew kind of circled around he and I.  This dude just kept yapping and wouldn’t go ahead and engage.  They had me out-numbered but my mouth was know at full operation and I was primed to pound this sack of crap.  Brucey really didn’t want no part of this.  Being a young ag teacher himself, he probably didn’t need to be there.  And as for Nick, he jumped into the back of my pickup to grab an equalizer.

     As things were finally escalating, the old man that ran the poultry operation came walking right into the middle of us, holding a fighting chicken.  “What the hell is going on here?” he loudly exclaimed.  At this point, Nick had been trying to take the handle out of a hi-lift jack.  The handle was rusted in.  So all 5’6″ & 140# lbs of Nick decided to jump back into the middle of us, holding the whole hi-lift jack.  Kind of like a scene from Rambo.  He yelled, “Come on you (insert numerous bad words)!”

     At this point, old man Range took that fighting chicken he was holding and threw it right into Nick’s face.  OOOHHH SNAAPPPP!!!!  Now that was a beating!   Nick dropped the hi-lift jack on his foot and went to covering his face.  Cackels, wings, beaks and feet were going all over the place.  The sounds and the visuals were wicked!  Nick got free of the rooster and old man Range gathered his bird up and warned us to “All of ya!!  Get the hell outta here before it really gets ugly!”

       Now, how much uglier can it get than dropping a hi-lift jack on your foot while getting your ass whipped by a fighting cock?  

       Nick limped to the pickup and we headed to his uncle’s house in Higgins, 2 miles away, to clean up the numerous facial abrasions and scratches.  All I know, is it is a good thing that bird wasn’t wearing blades or Nick would have really been in a bad way.  And I got a teaching job a few days later and wasn’t around to finish the dealings with that low-rent mouthy dude.  Actually, I’ve never seen him or his buddies again.  And now, the Little Rebel is closed and cock-fighting is illegal.  Oh, the good times.  

      However, I’ve been to a few goat shows where I felt like I got a fighting rooster thrown into my face.  And now, I have Brucey’s daughter in my program.  Dang good student.

Don’t always do what everyone else is doing.  Remember, when following the masses, sometimes the “m” is silent.

Have a good one.

       It’s time for a lifestyle change.  Something had to give.  So, here we go.  

      This has been a different summer.  It has been hot but not for extended periods, but for the most part it has been really humid and overcast.  Not as windy.  Weird.  The Dragon Lady & I have tried to figure out when & where to go fishing but it just hadn’t happened.  And swimming, I had yet to go swimming.  People, it is mid-July.  No Gage Artesian Beach and No climbing into Tammy’s little backyard blue swimming pool.  I tried but it was too cold.  I’m tough and she is tougher and guess what….she hadn’t swam in it either.  

       This summer has just been different.  Her schedule, my schedule, the weather, just enough livestock to cause issues, family deals, work deals, whatthehellever.  Nobody’s fault.  Just, dang!!!  

       Finally, summer is kind of starting to come together.  On Wednesday night, as I was tearing up a high $ pickup, Tammy got a text from a fishing guide that he had an opening on Friday at 1:30.  She was scared to ask me but as soon as she did, I quickly and loudly replied “WE ARE GOING!!!!  I need a break from this $h!t and so do you!”  So we did.  

      We went to Keystone Lake and caught Paddlefish.  Neither of us had caught a paddlefish before. Well, sonofafemaledog, we dang sure have now.  If you have book face, you’ve seen the pics.  

       When we got on the boat, I asked the guide, “Dude, what’s our odds of actually catching one of these things?”  He scoffed, looked me square in the eye and said, “100% or you don’t pay.  And trust  me, you are going to catch one.”   Okay, let’s go.  And go we did.  

          Here’s the scoop on this paddlefish adventure.  These fish are members of the shark family.  They are old.  They never stop swimming.  EVER.  They swim side to side.  AND they only eat plankton.  You don’t use bait or a lure.  You have to snag them.  There have been numerous state records caught out of Keystone the past two years.  Why?  These two brothers have figured out how to use LiveScope and can find them.  It’s almost a cross of hunting and fishing when chasing these fish.  It is bad ass. 

        No, we didn’t keep or clean any.  Why?  First, we went on a Friday.  And the Ok Wildlife Dept. doesn’t let you keep a paddlefish on Friday or Monday.  Two, I have eaten paddlefish on two different occasions.  I was fine not keeping any. 

       Do they fight?   Oh hells to the yeah!!   Like some German/Irish/Catholic brothers!   You better have your shit together when you snag one.  You might catch one in the gills, the side, the top or oh hell, the tail.  The fight is on if you snag one in the tail.  In the side, you now have to fight a big fish going side to side while trying to bring it in sideways.  Not exactly aerodynamic.  Kind of like roping a Volkswagen.  And they don’t die.  This guide has only lost one in the past two years and that was because a kid awkwardly dropped it.  

       Back in 2013, Tammy and I caught some big sailfish off the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica.  This was different.  Probably funner.  Holding a 118.8#er in order to take a damn pic while it was trying to flop.  OH SNAP!!!   

       I had a buddy ask what it cost.  I told him “$600 for the first 3 people and $125 for every person after that.”  At least that was our rate.  He said, “Damn!  That’s high.”  

     My reply, “NOPE!” 

I got on the boat at 1:30.  We caught fish.  I got off the boat at 5:30 after catching big fish.  

I didn’t own the boat.  I didn’t have the technology to find these fish.  I didn’t own the poles.  I didn’t have to fuel the boat, unload the boat, load the boat, store the boat, pay insurance on the boat or make the appointment.  And most importantly, I DID NOT HAVE THE KNOWLEDGE OF HOW TO CATCH THESE BIG BASTARDS.  I was happy.  Tammy was happy.  

Basically, this was cheap!!!!   Knowledge and the tools to succeed are damn neart priceless!!  And that is not the only way this paddlefish fishing trip ties to the goat world. 

       Back to that little backyard blue swimming pool.  I now realize that I am a paddlefish when I am in that thing.  I have to keep swimming.  It feels good.  My hip feels better.  I don’t feel as old.  I just keep swimming in circles.  Sometimes change directions.   No general direction or speed.  It feels good.  I feel alive.  Yet, here is the difference.  If you see me stop swimming……well…..

…you better hope that chlorine pill is working.   I don’t care if it is a stock tank, pond, lake, river, stream or pool.    At some point, once immersed, I am going to stop swimming and just go “Aaaahhhh, that feels good.  And warmer.”   AND you are a blatant liar if you aren’t the same.  We’ve all pissed in the water.  

         Fishing and swimming.  Dang, I need to figure out how to do this year round.  

     First things first.   Toltrazuril works BUT it needs to be at 1cc per 18 lb.  I doctored some 50lb goats with 3ccs.  That math works out.  

      One of the best vehicles ever made is the 2015 Chevrolet High Country 3/4 ton Duramax pickup.  I have one of those.  It is bad donkey!   Rides as smooth as ice cream melts and yet it pulls like a team of mules on crack.  If anybody needs a slightly used tailgate, let me know.  I have one.  Don’t ask questions.  Yes, there is a story.  Just not tonight.   And on that note, if you happen to have a bed and a rear bumper for a 3/4 ton High Country, I might know a guy that is in the market.  Or a bale bed.  Not sure who to blame this deal on BUT it isn’t Duke’s fault.  DAMN!!!

         Our garden is exploding.  Large amounts of squash, zucchini, cucumbers and okra.  Taters are close and the corn isn’t far off.  I burnt my nose hair when I walked into the kitchen today and Tammy was making pickles.  WOW!! Those pickling spices are wicked stout!!

       I’m pretty much a carnivore.  MEATSSS……YESSSS!!!   I also eat LOTS of taters, beans, corn and HUGE amounts of pickles.  Greens……on occasion.  And on those occasions, I might order a salad and then eat some cooked carrots on the side of the meal.  Some judgmental bastards might question my eating habits.   It’s simple.  Kind of like a dog needs to eat some grass from time to time, as do I.  However, if you see me dragging my ass across the lawn like a wormy dog…..just walk away.  And look the other way.  

        Speaking of veggies and feeding the world…….Yes, I am growing squash, zucchini and various varieties of cucumbers in the garden.  I plant, weed, water, grow and Tammy then collects the harvest.  My question……How come we have hungry people in the world when all we need is 12 or so squash plants and a baker’s dozen zucchini plants and we can feed 4 counties for a couple of months?    I get it that they take water.  But damn, these things stay fresh on the counter top for WEEKS!  And now, I have a blueberry/lemon/zucchini cake with lemon zest frosting sitting on my counter.   It don’t smell right.  People, I like me some blueberry and some lemon.  And I dang sure like them together.  The term lemon zest kind of excites me.  I would gladly buy some blueberry/lemon flavored……..

Yet, I’m scared of this concoction.  It smells like a bucket of ass.  

        This is why they have trouble trapping feral hogs.  They use the same bait, only different.  Back in the 70’s and 80’s, my mom would try to trap me into eating zucchini by making zucchini bread, zucchini casserole, fried zucchini, etc., etc.,…..    I still don’t want to eat that stuff.  I love fresh bread and lots of fried stuff.   You can cover it with blueberries, lemons, lemon zest and have a smoking hot model and I am still OUT on that stuff!!!!    

        Hunh?  I guess that I have been fortunate enough to never be that hungry.  Yes, you would be correct.  However, I am also sure that there have been some religious martyrs that were like “Well, since we have these zucchini and nothing else, I will just go on a hunger strike and pray A lot!  And there were a large number of people that agreed.  

        I apologize to anybody that is truly hungry.  I will gladly do my part to send fresh veggies and taters. I’m dang sure not against sending some fresh beef as well.  If you know of somebody that needs help, I’m all in.  Keep it all anonymous.  

        For real!  I can help.  If you are reading this and are in need or if you know somebody in need, PLEASE!  Please hit me up.  I/we can help.   

        And here is what is right with our world.  Today, this blog started with a goat medication correction.  Then changed to a vehicle damage deal and than we have enough food to help others.  However, let’s get it to people that REALLY need help.  

Seriously, if you are hungry or know somebody that is, call me.  If you found this website, then you can reach me.  And I can reach others.  NW OK area code followed by 571 then 5029.   If that doesn’t fit your method.  Leave a note at the door of Holy Name Catholic Church in Shattuck, OK.  

Diary of a mad man.  You bet.  Whatever works to help others.  

      I know.   I know.  Some of you need this to read while up with the baby at night.  Some need to read it in order to take a morning dump.  And some just don’t have a life and read this stuff.  

        Well, I’ve been busy.  I went to a wedding.  I’m not much on weddings but this one was really nice.  They sat Tammy and I right behind Jerry & Ada Pfeiffer.  Thank goodness.  On the walk out of the wedding, they had each row exit down the center aisle.  The Pfeiffer’s were right in front of us.  Jerry accidentally kicked one of the glasses filled with water and a floating candle that were at the end of each aisle.  Water everywhere.  Damn, I’m glad he did it first.  Cuz truth be told, I didn’t see those glasses and I would have kicked one of them.  But NO!  After I saw that, I stayed wide of glasses.  

      Towards the end of the wedding reception, the mother of the groom asked why I was there?  I said, “Ma’am, I’ve got an invite hanging on the refrigerator door.”

She than asked, “Bride or groom?”  

“Bride.”   

She then queried “How long have you known the bride’s family?”

I cocked my head and replied, “I’ve known TravASS since 1993.”

She then asked, “How?” 

Me at 11:30 pm, at a wedding reception, replied, “Ma’am, are you aware that Halie won a bunch of goat shows?”

She said, “Yes.  She won a bunch.”

Me–“Ma’am.   Her family and I did all of that together.”

Her–“Really?  I thought you might be a wedding crasher!”

Me–“Ma’am, if was going to crash a wedding, I would try to be incognito.  I dang sure wouldn’t be wearing an orange pimped out shirt and a top hat!”

      I don’t like taking a pic unless the situation needs me in the pic.  And damn, I was honored to take a pic with Halie Shovanec (Dewitt), Lexi Vanderwork (Covalt) and Chesley Comstock.  I hurt the pic but dang those are three bad donkey chicks.  Along with others, those kids and their families mean the world to Tammy & I.  

      Oh, I did take a pic with Pistol Pete.  My hat is almost as cool as his. 

      Speaking of goats, I guess that I was the only person that wasn’t using Toltrazuril for coccidii.   This stupid blog is invaluable in how quick you people respond and send info.  Tom Kester delivered a bottle of this stuff to me at the wedding.  Tammy made me go to the dance floor, so I put this jug of stuff inside my top hat.  And that is where it stayed until I got to the hotel room that night.  Next day, I doctored shitty-assed goats with it.  That night, dry stools.  It works.  So does the top hat.  

I used the 3cc/18# drench doctoring rate.   Others are mixing it with Spectam scour-halt.  It ain’t cheap, yet it is cheaper than Marquis and works quicker.  

     That’s enough for now.  Have a good one and a better tomorrow.  

That is it and that is all.  

       Read the Big Pitchman deal first.  It has nothing to do with this post.  

This is the 4th of July post….even though it is not yet the 4th of July.  We have a wedding to attend and then A  Litzenberger Lake event.  I’m going to be busy this weekend.  Something and/or somebody will get lit.

      I’m going to preface this story with NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED!!!!

      I’ll be honest, this isn’t even a true story. 

       I’m not sure if the year was 2016 or 2017.  Either way, it was several years back.  It was on the 4th of July.  A goat crew came to Fargo unexpectedly.  Not to look at goats, but just to get away and have fun.  And fun we had.  The kids headed out on the gator to go pop fireworks.  The adults, well, we cracked a few open.  As the day grew later, we needed pizza.  The Dragon Lady headed to Shattuck to get a pile of pizzas.  The kids pulled in to the drive with the gator.  I took it and started doing chores.  I left Duke and several other kids under the watchful eyes of an adult or two.  

        I fed goats, calves, filled water tanks and pulled back into the driveway.  WTF are you all doing?   RUFSM?   They had taped 4 Roman candles to one of the Dragon Lady’s Rhode Island Red hens.  NOOOOO!!!!!     HAAA!!!  And they lit the fuses and let the chicken loose.  Oh my!!!  As the chicken took off running, the first candle fired, then the next, then the next.  The candles repeatedly fired like a Gatlin gun out of time.  Yet, every time a candle fired, that chicken caught another gear.  I have never seen a chicken run that fast.  It headed East then rounded the corner by the garage.  Then took another right and headed West towards……OHHHHHH    NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!    The propane tank!    As that piece of poultry hauled ass, thighs and legs towards that tank, I held my breath….as……that…….last ball……of fire……shot out of that last candle just before it got to the tank.  I yelled, “Catch that bird and get rid of the evidence!  The Dragon Lady will be pissed if she finds out.” 

        Ten minutes later, she showed up with a bunch of pizzas.  She suspected nothing.  

      The next day, Tammy gathered eggs.  She came walking towards me with her egg basket.  “Look at this.  I have never seen an egg shaped like this.  This is weird.”    

      “Wow.  That is odd.” I replied. 

And I have never before nor since seen an egg shaped like that.  I ducked my head and walked away thinking……

Dudes, I was thinking, “I bet I know which hen laid THAT egg.”     

       This might be the greatest made up story of all time.  It did not happen.  This is just a tribute to a story.  If only somebody could video such an event.  

Happy Independence Day!!!   Remember why we celebrate this day.  It ain’t for shooting bottle rockets or Roman candles.  We are free because others sacrificed for us so that we could be free to raise goats, eat beef, shear sheep, smoke pig and watch chickens.  You don’t have to like our government, (I don’t) but we are the U S of A!   

And remember, you don’t have to, nor need to post your stupid 4th of July antics on social media.  Well, unless they are really good.  Be safe and stay free.  

        So, the other night, I am lying on the couch, watching the tv.  Can’t even remember what I was watching.  A commercial came on, then another, then another.  All 3 commercials had the same pitchman.  Hunh?!?!

      I like the dude.  Don’t really care what he is selling.  However, he always catches my attention.  Probably why he is on 3 back to back to back commercials.  The commercial that really caught my attention was a Papa John’s commercial.  I like their pizza.  But this commercial got me to thinking.  Why is Shaquille O’Neal selling Papa John’s pizza AND why does he look like the Bumble from the animated Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer?  SERIOUSLY!!   Watch that commercial.  Shaq in a white wig and crappy moustache looks like the Bumble that was taken down by Yukon Cornelius.  He looks like he is getting ready to put the star on the top of the Christmas tree.  Shit you not!   

        I enjoyed watching basketball in the 80s & 90s.  Now, not so much.  I liked watching Shaq at LSU and then the Magic and the Lakers.  After that, who cares.   However, that dude has stayed relevant and he is always comical.  The video of him eating the ghost pepper on the nba show is funny.   

       Read “The Big Pitchman” on nba.com.  It is interesting.  Shaq has 3 rules for what products he endorses.  

1–The product must be affordable to the average consumer.

2–He must believe in the product and use it himself.

3–The commercials must bring laughter.  

    But, the General Insurance?  When he got to LSU, he bought a Bronco II for $1,500.  He needed insurance.  He got The General insurance for $19 a month.  There you go.  

     Icy Hot.  One of the Laker’s trainers used it on Shaq.  Now, this is his longest running endorsement.  

And Papa John’s.  Well, go read the story. 

     This dude was a badass athlete but he is either a business genius or surrounded by really good advisors.  He made a lot playing a game but he has made a 1/2 BILLION since.  The story even talks about his biggest mistake.  starbucks coffee.  “I’m from the hood & I ain’t never seen a starbucks. Black people don’t drink coffee.  I never saw my folks drink coffee.”

       Is he the G.O.A.T.?   It’s either him or Michael Jordan.  On the court….Jordan.  On the endorsements, Shaq is still ringing the bell.  It’s close.  

       Now, I will hit submit and start a holiday blog.  Peace Out.  And prayers and thanks to all of those that have given us the independence that we enjoy.  

      I now use Duke’s wether barn as an ag farm.  I can unload sheep or goats here for a few days/weeks and then move them to student’s homes.  Luckily, this set of wethers broke with coccidi while they were still at my house.  Easier to doctor.  Except they didn’t respond to the normal medications of SMZ tablets and spectam.  So, off to the vet I went.  What?  You can’t get Marquis!  Give me some Albon then.  Now, a steady diet of praire grass hay and a dose of Albon for several days.  The joys of livestock.

        Speaking of goats.   Name me the wicked cool movie that has this line in it……”Turn goat piss into gasoline.”   

Here’s another cool quote.

I hope to arrive at my death

late, 

in love,

and a little drunk.