THE DEER STAND PLAN .. A HOMER AND ME STORY.. DEER CAMP 2006

NOV.19, 2006 DEER CAMP 2006 HOMER'S DEER STAND PLAN

 

This photo above does not really depict the device in this story, built by my wonderful partner, but it does show his mentality when it comes to fabricating  something that just popped into his head. Something he is sure will be the biggest, bestest, most wonderfullest, thing since the red lense for hunting lights! hehe

This is the story of Homer's plans for his deer stand. His homemade deer stand. umm hummm. Yes, being the smart intelligent woman that I am, I do have this story to relate, but only second hand from Homer Jr.  I stayed at home as much as possible, seeing as we live in the age of (dang it) the cell phone, that was not nearly enough for me, but hey, what is a girl gona do? They call, they say please, we are totally melted, and we go. I blame estrogen replacement therapy, and Cosmopolitian magazine.

Anyway, when the thoughts of going to the deer woods loomed into Homer's mind about 2 months ago, he decides he needs a new deer stand. For those of you who do not know what one of those is, here is a brief description.

deer stand- a device usually made of metal and chain that a hunter with much muscle and less brain power huffs up into a tree to make a type of bench to sit on, and watch for unsuspecting deer to wander into their gun sites. Most usually they are hooked to the tree with a series of rings and clips. the rings are screwed into the tree and then clipped to hold the platform in place and to make a sturdy and safe place to sit. A saftey belt is usually a part of the make up of the platform to keep the hunter from falling. But, are usually discarded by the "real men" deerhunting types. This of course is the reason for so many deerhunters with broken arms, stiff backs, and bruised hineys. If this secret gets any futher than my readers, I am sure to be banned from all deer camps in the future. So I urge you to tell everyone you know and then take out an ad in the paper telling it like this ,  LOCKERRIDGE TELLS ALL, DEER STAND SECRETS ARE TOLD.  hehe

To purchase one of these hunting have to's, it is quite expensive, if you get the deluxe model with heated seat and rain roof, it can get ridiculously expensive. So Homer decides to build his own. He has a steel pile with a welder, cutting torch, and lots of welding rods of several different types and sizes. I am always impressed with his knowledge of putting two pieces of metal together and it sticks, I can't even get super glue to work on paper, my fingers, yeah, but paper, no. sigh. Anyway he sets about drawing up plans on my pc. (!!)  This caused quite a bit of controversy, with me being the winner. He has his own pc, given to him by me when I got tired of waiting to use the pc, and bought my Dell.  You notice the noun, my, that is just what it means, mine. He remembered I bite just in time! hehe

He managed to pull the plan together and spent much of the next 2 weekends building it. It was magnificient! all steel construction of wire mesh for the platform, chains for the support, rings welded and ground down smooth. No ragged edges, nothing to injure the bathed in sweat hunter. Except it weighs more than he does. This taken into consideration by Homer, he has devised a series of pullies and ropes to lift said wonderous invention to the height of the place on the oak , he has prechosen. um hummm..... someone has to get the ropes and pullies in place first.

So he and Homer Jr. start out the weekend before deer season opens to put said stand in place. He has a plan. Homer always has a plan. Or the plan has Homer, it is always a mystery till it is obvious. hehe

They get to the woods and haul this thing out about  three quarters of a mile up hill in the rain to this tree. This is a really cool tree, by the way,  an oak of some sort that has got to be so old Lincoln planted the seed. It is huge.

Now the good part... Homer Jr. is still trying to figure out why he is blessed with such a creative father and sweating profusely, when Homer gets out his spiked boots, yeah for deer hunters, they make spiked boots, sigh. Places his foot upon the tree and starts to climb like  guys who work for the electric company does on a utility pole. He gets half way up and hollers at Jr. to throw him the lines and pullies. Jr. complies, he catches them on the 5th try. Homer Jr. has a knot on his head, but they are successful.

He reaches the place he has chosen and wouldn't you know it, there are no limbs to hang the pullies from.   So he decides to huff the thing up there on his back, so down he goes to the ground. He has Jr. strap it to his back and up he goes again, after he falls back to the ground about 5 times. Jr. is watching this studiously, learning wise things.... hehe

Homer get up about 20 ft. and somehow or another his foot gets pulled loose from the tree. the chains on the deer stand wrap around him and the tree. Neatly.  He then loses contact with the other fool and flips upside down, hanging like a pully from a rope! hehe  He is turning red in the face, has no hope of getting out of this with out it leaving a mark, and can't speak, for the blood rushing to his head. His one brain cell is swelling and must be saved!

Jr. continues to watch and say hummm every once in while... to look like he knows what is happening. Homer finally finds his voice and says ,"Jr. help me!"

Jr. looks at him and says," Dad wasn't this a part of the plan?"

Homer, catches his breath, the one brain cell actually split into two cells and he started to laugh! Jr. starts to laugh. Picture it, if you can.   You have one idiot hanging upside down from a tree 20 ft in the air. Another smaller version of the larger idiot laughing on the ground, and I know the deer had to be hiding in the bushes laughing their little white tails off!  I mean this is so typical of the two of them. When  Homer has a plan, we must never deviate from the plan. The plan is his anchor to the ground it would seem, it must never be changed or moved. If we try to ad lib to the plan, the ground shakes with  the explosive , " What happened to the plan!" that erupts from the lower regions of Homers lungs.

So Jr. was just waiting for the plan to come together. I really never have got the straight story as to how they got him down. I probably don't want to know, and the Homer special deer stand has not been seen since. I figure the deer got it up in the tree and are using it to look out for the hunters who are drooling and chasing them mercilessly all over the woods right now. It is just one more thing to remember when you are living Life with Homer.

Never, ever deviate from the plan!

 

 

lockerridge

OCT.23,2006 HOMEWORK IN THE 21ST CENTURY ! ? ! ?......

 

Hello everyone, I have had something come home to me recently from Homer Jr. He is a classmember of the group of elite males and females, in the long fought for class of seniors this year. He is also a member of a class with the impressive sounding name of Parenting for Responsible Young Adults. Hummm..... I am yet to be impressed, cause he is taking the class along with 17 other seniors who had to take the class so they could actually fill in their school day to get to the next class, of keyboarding. Yeah, a fluff class. But the teacher takes this very seriously. Very seriously! To the point of talking the school board into buying 3, not 1, but 3 of these 300 dollar "real babies". What ever happened to the smelly memographed sheets we used to get? They cost what? half a cent each? humm......

Any how, these baby dolls come in a variety of skin colors, and of course, both sexes. Homer Jr. got a girl baby with caucasian skin color. They are anatomaically correct as well as have the ability to scream bloody murder, drink a bottle and need a diaper change. They also will report if you handle them roughly, do not see to their immediate cry of distress, and they will go into the worst kind of hiccuping squall if they need to be burped. Yes, I said burped. They also make a cooing sound( sounds like Marilyn Monroe and her speech to Mr. President) and he has to record all of this in a little notebook. Every sound this kid of plastic and computer chips makes, he is supposed to record in this little book. He has a plastic bracelet with a magnetic key on it that is permanently, for 3 days, anyway, attached to his wrist. It is the only way to shut the thing up when it gets wound up, or so the little direction booklet tells you. And this lovely, dedicated, totally serious teacher is the one who programs the way the "real baby" is timed to do all this wonderous responsiblity inducing " stuff". ( I am excited, how about ya'll?)

After I found out this Dedicated Teacher is 25, single, and not a kiddie in sight, I was seriously considering moving in with the gophers for 3 days! I didn't, but oh my, at 3:30 in the morning being awakened by a 17 year old male who is almost crying, and the thing from the Chuckie factory is in full wailing mode, a nicely placed phone call at that time in the morning to Ms. Dedicated teacher, did cross my mind, but Homer Jr. begged me to just make the thing shut up, and not get himself on the, no Christmas Card list, of his teacher. What are you going to do? Yeah, you guys know I didn't do it, but man oh man would it have felt so wonderful! sigh, I am a wuss.

I got to tell you, I never in my whole entire time of being a parent, had a child act like this thing did! I mean it would not even change pitch of the crying jag it was on. It was just a constant, and never changing scream! Lord have mercy, I did everything I knew a real baby would respond to, even if it was a hiccuping kind of scream instead of this banshee from hell, kind of mind scrambling thing, we had going on. I know I should not have done it, but I got a screwdriver and took the plate off the battery holder and took the batteries out of the thing! Well a Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do, ya know!

HomerJr., poor guy, was grateful, but also apprehensive about what his teacher would think, and what kind of grade he would get because of the interference of his parent on his responsibility homework. I told him if she gave him any crap to call me, and I would be glad to have a talk with her, and the principal, or the superintendant, and I am best friends with the president of the school board! Why not, go for the big guns, ya know?

We put the batteries back in cautiously, hoping for a change in mood after about 15 minutes. And the *************ing thing cooed at us! We wrote it in the notebook. We didn't do anything, honest. At least that is our story and we are sticking to it.

He had to work the next day, and he figured out how to take the magnet part off the bracelet and so, yeah you guessed it, I had to babysit. OMG! I put it on the bed and went about doing the laundry folding, while it watched me from its little never shutting eyes, that follow you wherever you go in the room. This thing is so spooky people, I kept my screwdriver in my back pocket, for emergencies and stuff, you know! ( No wonder I am half insane most of the time, Homer is still gopher hunting at odd times of the night, my dog, well is my dog, and now the chuckie clone is living in my house!)type and smile, type and smile!

I made it till just about an hour before Homer Jr. was to be home, ( poor guy, he called to see how his baby was doing, since she had a bad night the night before!)and the thing wanted to get a bottle. It is okay, but it makes these little," gunk, gunk" sounds, and then it coos every minute or so....... and you have to document what sound and the time it makes it, in the little notebook. Sheesh, the thing drank and cooed for 30 minutes! For real, I am not lying people, 30 minutes, and then it wanted to be burped. But it would not burp. I walked around for another 30 minutes bouncing it on my shoulder, patting gently on its back, every time I quit the massive earsplitting squall resumed. Now remember I had to also write all this down in the book. Grew that third hand, yes I did, and his name was Homer. I told him to get in there and tend to his grandchild! And he did!!! Wow!

He named her Homerellen, and even though he tried all his fatherly tricks, the thing still was not cooperating. I went to check on the gophers for a while..... I left him my screwdriver.

Poor Homer Jr. came home and took over. I was still hearing them at 2 am. I finally got up and gave him the screwdriver, he said thanks, and I left the room, silence reigned once again in about 3 minutes, until I heard Homer Jr. snoring.

All in all, he got a 92 on his homework, and the teacher did not even get an inkling that the batteries had been removed. I really regret not getting a recording of the banshee scream. I might need to help another parent in a assault and battery charge pressed by The Dedicated Teacher! Hey, I am always there for a fellow tortured parent if needed, don't cha know! hehehe

We did everything any responsible parent of a honest to goodness real fake baby would do, and did nothing to cheat at all. That is our story anyway, and we are sticking to it!

hehehehehee

lockerridge

UNDERSTANDING THE FEMALE BUDDY BATHROOM SYSTEM....

IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION OF LATE THAT MEN HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WOMEN DEAL WITH ON A DAY TO DAY BASIS.

FIRST AND FOREMOST IN OUR MINDS, IS ADHERING TO ALL OF OUR MOTHERS TEACHINGS ON THE SUBJECTS OF:

1. NEVER ALLOWING OUR BODY PARTS TO COME INTO CONTACT WITH ANYTHING WHICH IS NOT COMPLETELY, WITHOUT A DOUBT, IN PRISTINE SANITARY CONDITIONS...

2. ALWAYS HAVING THE OUTWARD APPEARANCE OF QUIET LADYLIKE DIGNITY, WITH A SLIGHT SUGGESTION OF, "I AM TOO SEXY FOR MY BODY" TWIST TO IT.

3. TO NEVER BE CAUGHT IN A SITUATION WHERE YOU HAVE NOT HAD THE FORETHOUGHT TO BRING FROM HOME, WHAT YOU WILL NEED IN A DAYS EXCURSION TO THE OUTSIDE PUBLIC WORLD.

WHERE THE CONDITIONS ARE, UNSANITARY AND THE GENERAL PUBLIC IS MOST USUALLY COMPLETELY IGNORANT OF ANY KIND OF GOOD SOCIAL GRACE AND MANNERS.

SO IN AN EFFORT TO ENLIGHTEN THE MALE GENDER I HAVE FOR YOU A STORY, OF ONE POOR FEMALE WHO HAD THE FOLLOWING EXPERIENCE, WHICH MIGHT BE DEEMED A HORROR STORY TO OUR MOTHERS.. BUT TO LOOK AT THE POSITIVE ASPECT OF IT ALL..

SHE LEARNED HOW TO DO THE POPULAR" PEE PEE DANCE" TO PERFECTION!

HER MOMMA WOULD HAVE BEEN SO PROUD!

HEHEHEHEHEEEE!

WHY WOMEN USE THE BUDDY SYSTEM WHEN GOING TO THE RESTROOM IN A PUBLIC PLACE... ..

When you have to visit a public bathroom you usually find a line of women so you smile politely and take your place.

Once it's your turn you check for feet under the stall doors, and every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall

You get in to find the door won't latch.

It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!

The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty.

You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake.

You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.

In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that's still in your purse.

(Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time).

That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.

The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet

"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.

It's wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.

You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes.

The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat.

You're exhausted.

You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them.

A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe.

(Where was that when I NEEDED it??)

You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom.

Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms

(rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!).

It finally explains to the men why it takes us so long.

It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs.

It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

A Friend Is Like A Good Bra...
Hard to Find
Supportive
Comfortable
Always Lifts You Up
Never Lets You Down or Leaves You Hanging
And Is Always Close To Your Heart!!!

lockerridge

HILLBILLY TECHNOLOGY INC. PRESENTS. LOCKERRIDGE HILLBILLY CASINO!

LOCKERRIDGE HILLBILLY CASINO!

BROUGHT TO YOU BY

HILLBILLY TECHNOLOGY INC.

THE HILLBILLY WAY OF GAMBLING.. WITHOUT LOSING ANYTHING THAT YOU DON'T HAVE TO LOSE!

YOU HAVE A CHOICE OF MACHINE TO PLAY WITH..

AND LET ME RECOMMEND THE WORM RACES..

HEHEHEHEHEHEHE!

OMG!

SO GOOD LUCK!

THE WINNERS WILL RECEIVE THE SAME THING THEY WON FROM THE PENGUIN GAME.. ONLY BIGGER AND BETTER LOOKING!

WHOA!

MOBILE CASINO... FROM HILLBILLY TECHNOLOGY INC.

WE PUT THE HIGH ROLLER ON THE ROAD!

games provided by

http://codes.mashable.com/index.php

lockerridge