pulltheotherone

Art Car Parade

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Better late than never, BUCKAROOS!

theduty:

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

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zerovalent:

Warren Zevon - Lawyers, Guns And Money

You might think that I would choose a different song today considering that I just posted Warren Zevon two days ago, but I didn’t because it’s Warren Zevon, and who doesn’t want to listen to a little Warren Zevon on a Friday morning? Nobody I want to know.

Well, I went home with the waitress
The way I always do
How was I to know
She was with the Russians, too

I was gambling in Havana
I took a little risk
Send lawyers, guns and money
Dad, get me out of this

My friend’s cat, Shu-Shu, for Caturday.

TT
I’ve been working on house lately and I just brought up these chairs from the garage. After a thorough clean-up, I think they look pretty good where they are now. They’re a bitter-sweet reminder of a person I used to know and work with at Cecil’s, a legendary bar in the Montrose of Houston. Keith was very young and liked by all, but since he was low on the bar totem pole, the only shifts he could get were at the outside bar we had. He did everything he could to personalize this bar—lights, candles and these chairs that he brought from his house. His mother was a supervisor for the British Airways reservation center that existed at the time and she and I had that in common as I too was with the airlines. Keith was one of the few that I ever trusted with one of my buddy passes—and when he wanted one for him and his girlfriend to go to NYC, I gave without hesitation. One night around 3am after everyone had finished up at Cecil’s, he headed across the street to his apartment building and was one footstep away from the landing when a drunk driver plowed all the way across his lawn and hit him from behind. The force of the impact almost decapitated Keith; at the trial of the girl who was driving drunk, the girl’s sister made the comment, “What was he doing at 3am, gardening!??” People?! R.I.P. Keith

TT

I’ve been working on house lately and I just brought up these chairs from the garage. After a thorough clean-up, I think they look pretty good where they are now. They’re a bitter-sweet reminder of a person I used to know and work with at Cecil’s, a legendary bar in the Montrose of Houston. Keith was very young and liked by all, but since he was low on the bar totem pole, the only shifts he could get were at the outside bar we had. He did everything he could to personalize this bar—lights, candles and these chairs that he brought from his house. His mother was a supervisor for the British Airways reservation center that existed at the time and she and I had that in common as I too was with the airlines. Keith was one of the few that I ever trusted with one of my buddy passes—and when he wanted one for him and his girlfriend to go to NYC, I gave without hesitation. One night around 3am after everyone had finished up at Cecil’s, he headed across the street to his apartment building and was one footstep away from the landing when a drunk driver plowed all the way across his lawn and hit him from behind. The force of the impact almost decapitated Keith; at the trial of the girl who was driving drunk, the girl’s sister made the comment, “What was he doing at 3am, gardening!??” People?! R.I.P. Keith

Up. (Is there a booger in my nose?)

TT
When I was last in West Texas, my mother said we needed to go take a look in the safety deposit box. Over the years we’ve collected a variety of things like coins, jewelry, …guns. This is Texas after all. This gun belonged to my grandfather who was detective on the now defunct T & P (Texas and Pacific Railroad) that ran between Ft Worth and Los Angeles. This was his service revolver of the the time and it is an actual Texas Ranger model—you can just make out the image of a longhorn on the grip with ruby insets for eyes. This gun played a part in one of the stories about my grandfather that I’d heard for years from my relatives. His job meant that he’d be out of town for long periods of time. One of my aunts would use the absences to go out on dates. The understanding with my grandmother was that she would call before coming home, just in case my grandfather had returned unexpectedly. And, one time he did and my grandmother had to tell my aunt to go ahead and come home, but under no circumstances was her date to come back with her because my grandfather was on the porch with his gun and was going to kill whoever brought her home!

TT

When I was last in West Texas, my mother said we needed to go take a look in the safety deposit box. Over the years we’ve collected a variety of things like coins, jewelry, …guns. This is Texas after all. This gun belonged to my grandfather who was detective on the now defunct T & P (Texas and Pacific Railroad) that ran between Ft Worth and Los Angeles. This was his service revolver of the the time and it is an actual Texas Ranger model—you can just make out the image of a longhorn on the grip with ruby insets for eyes. This gun played a part in one of the stories about my grandfather that I’d heard for years from my relatives. His job meant that he’d be out of town for long periods of time. One of my aunts would use the absences to go out on dates. The understanding with my grandmother was that she would call before coming home, just in case my grandfather had returned unexpectedly. And, one time he did and my grandmother had to tell my aunt to go ahead and come home, but under no circumstances was her date to come back with her because my grandfather was on the porch with his gun and was going to kill whoever brought her home!

pufflepie:

Every night.