When I moved to Virginia 3+ years ago, I worked in Suffolk and drove on this road everyday.
Yesterday, a tornado came through and destroyed 140 houses. . .which makes me glad I don't work in Suffolk anymore.
Because I am very tired now and don't feel like writing, I've done what all bloggers do. . .post links.
This site belongs to my sister. She designs cakes, so if Bill Gates or you fellows at the NSA (I know you're watching me) want a cake made, then by all means click here.
Christian Ethereal Classics This web site has many many many good books-online-written by people who have been dead for a very long time and should be read by more people. . .especially G.K. Chesterton.
First Things This is another excellent web site for thinkers and ponderers. Many must reads aqui.
29 April 2008
28 April 2008
Man
Man is a unique creature that spends his entire life being caught in a tug-of-war between morphing into an animal or changing into something super-natural.
(I am using the word 'man' here in the generic sense. If this offends anyone, I am not sorry. You should stop reading here and go watch MTV or old Michael Jackson videos on YouTube.)
Most people are turning into Mr. Hyde, a card-carrying member of the dark side of the universe. The rest are turning into something like the elves of Middle-Earth. . .without the pointy ears.
Nobody is caught in neutral for very long. I must imagine what it would have been like to observe Eve the moment she bit into the apple. I wonder if the serpent got happy. . .do serpents even smile? They don't seem to have much of an expression, unlike dogs and cats.
Something I find interesting in Genesis is how Adam takes it for granted that serpents can talk. . .or at least communicate. Personally, if my wife came home and told me she spent the afternoon conversing with a serpent, I would treat her with a great deal of respect, pat her on the head, and keep her out of the public eye lest she start striking up conversations with, oh, say squirrels.
Man was probably meant to train the animals into acquiring speech. . .or some other form of communication. . .so that the two species could converse and perhaps exchange ideas. . .or sensations.
Animals left on their own tend to become barbaric and go extinct. Man is no exception. Men, left to their natural desires, naturally begin to revert to mere animals. So, it should not be surprising when we see mobs roaming the streets and looting stores after floods and earthquakes, engaging in non-marital sex, eating as much as possible, or a thousand other things. It's only natural. To expect somebody that has given himself over to the Hyde nature to understand and comprehend the super-natural is akin to expecting one's German Shepherd to understand driving.
This is one reason why Rome fell into barbarism and why manners are important.
In a society populated by a majority of supernatural-evolving people, most laws are understood implicitly. People don't look for loopholes, nor should they, as the Natural Law need not be explained. It is part of their nature not to torture babies and marry the same gender-if this is even possible.
An increasingly litigious society is a flashing warning sign of a crumbling society.
I should mention when I say 'supernaturally-evolving,' I do not mean most attribute any unexplained phenomena to gods, demons, spirits, or fate. What I mean is a people going through Life doing what their intuition tells their mind to do with their bodies inevitably following after. Since their intuition is on the same wavelength with the God who created everything from Logic to Creativity.
Evil people are dull. Have you noticed?
(I am using the word 'man' here in the generic sense. If this offends anyone, I am not sorry. You should stop reading here and go watch MTV or old Michael Jackson videos on YouTube.)
Most people are turning into Mr. Hyde, a card-carrying member of the dark side of the universe. The rest are turning into something like the elves of Middle-Earth. . .without the pointy ears.
Nobody is caught in neutral for very long. I must imagine what it would have been like to observe Eve the moment she bit into the apple. I wonder if the serpent got happy. . .do serpents even smile? They don't seem to have much of an expression, unlike dogs and cats.
Something I find interesting in Genesis is how Adam takes it for granted that serpents can talk. . .or at least communicate. Personally, if my wife came home and told me she spent the afternoon conversing with a serpent, I would treat her with a great deal of respect, pat her on the head, and keep her out of the public eye lest she start striking up conversations with, oh, say squirrels.
Man was probably meant to train the animals into acquiring speech. . .or some other form of communication. . .so that the two species could converse and perhaps exchange ideas. . .or sensations.
Animals left on their own tend to become barbaric and go extinct. Man is no exception. Men, left to their natural desires, naturally begin to revert to mere animals. So, it should not be surprising when we see mobs roaming the streets and looting stores after floods and earthquakes, engaging in non-marital sex, eating as much as possible, or a thousand other things. It's only natural. To expect somebody that has given himself over to the Hyde nature to understand and comprehend the super-natural is akin to expecting one's German Shepherd to understand driving.
This is one reason why Rome fell into barbarism and why manners are important.
In a society populated by a majority of supernatural-evolving people, most laws are understood implicitly. People don't look for loopholes, nor should they, as the Natural Law need not be explained. It is part of their nature not to torture babies and marry the same gender-if this is even possible.
An increasingly litigious society is a flashing warning sign of a crumbling society.
I should mention when I say 'supernaturally-evolving,' I do not mean most attribute any unexplained phenomena to gods, demons, spirits, or fate. What I mean is a people going through Life doing what their intuition tells their mind to do with their bodies inevitably following after. Since their intuition is on the same wavelength with the God who created everything from Logic to Creativity.
Evil people are dull. Have you noticed?
22 April 2008
The offal stink of the 2-headed beast from Hillobama
. . .did not cease as of the 15th, when I mailed my gal Iris a letter that made me weep. Every April, she'd give me a gift delivered by snails, but not this time around. For as I drove to the office, A. Picket Sine met me proclaiming 'Free Stamps.' Mr. Stamps must have not paid his dues and now sits in a cold, dark, dank, dungeon cursing Gates. Allen wrenches his heart of steel and. . .I should really limit my caffeine intake.
I have been thinking about the Ideal Gas Law and prophecy.
When one has a few million atoms at their disposal, one can generally predict their behavior at standard temperature and pressure. Especially, if they are low atomic weight atoms like Hydrogen. Individual atoms seem to have a life of their own, something like free-will, and somehow seem to know the existence of every other Hydrogen atom which is a little freaky if one thinks about it. Nevertheless, the single and double-slit experiments done in physics labs all over this planet confirm this as a fact of nature.
Populations of humans seem to act as Hydrogen gas en masse as well. So, it makes sense that when the population of a group of people is large enough, one can predict what they will do given the right circumstances. . .even though the individuals have free-will.
The analogy is not perfect, but I think that their is a correlation between all the natural laws of chemistry and physics and all the supernatural laws of nature.
It's true that one cannot really measure a supernatural event as they're not exactly able to be empirically tested over and over again as scientists would love to do.
I have been thinking about the Ideal Gas Law and prophecy.
When one has a few million atoms at their disposal, one can generally predict their behavior at standard temperature and pressure. Especially, if they are low atomic weight atoms like Hydrogen. Individual atoms seem to have a life of their own, something like free-will, and somehow seem to know the existence of every other Hydrogen atom which is a little freaky if one thinks about it. Nevertheless, the single and double-slit experiments done in physics labs all over this planet confirm this as a fact of nature.
Populations of humans seem to act as Hydrogen gas en masse as well. So, it makes sense that when the population of a group of people is large enough, one can predict what they will do given the right circumstances. . .even though the individuals have free-will.
The analogy is not perfect, but I think that their is a correlation between all the natural laws of chemistry and physics and all the supernatural laws of nature.
It's true that one cannot really measure a supernatural event as they're not exactly able to be empirically tested over and over again as scientists would love to do.
Even Ester-C on 04-22-2008 at 8
I do is the shortest phrase in the English language . . .
Someone once said 'I will' is the longest sentence.
I wonder what they were talking about?
Once upon a time on the 5th day of the 5th month of the 5th year of the century, there lived a man called Joey Cee. His nickname was Joe, after his favorite drink, iced mocha cappuccino.
Made by the fellows at Nestle.
Joey Cee, which wasn't his real name, preferred to call himself another sea-faring name, Nemo...latin for 'No Man.' Joey Cee was in a bit of a pickle, and like Puff who lived by the sea, was hungry due to a strange new illness, called by some Nemo's Revenge, and by others, the 7 year itch.
A most strange malady.
Now in his castle, a dark grim fortress, down next by the sea. Joey had a very old parchment purchased from the local merchants who sold their goods and wares at market every 5th day, using letters corresponding to numbers, as counting wasn't their specialty.
In this case the letter 'E.'
Later, they decided to simply call the market 'E' and in due time it became popular among the traders to call the entire sea coast town, by the bay, 'E.' Although some maps still refer to it as E Bay.
Coincidentally.
On the 5th line of the parchment, Joey Cee found a cure for Nemo's Revenge. But the cure called for a magical herb, a mystical plant unknown to any of his friends. After consulting the village elders, he decided to undertake a long journey to the Land of Nod. Day and night he traveled, toiling through swamps, raging rivers, torrid deserts, and high mountains. At long last, he arrived in the Land of Nod. And there, in a cave, atop a lonely mountain peak, stood a princess gazing into a large black cauldron. Joey Cee cleared his throat. He'd heard about this wily princess and was on his guard, all defenses up.
He asked "Can you help me?"
The princess looked up from her boiling cauldron, wiped the sweat off her brow, and said ever so subtly.
"I know what you are looking for. The plant...it's called Four Star Bane. I keep a store in my satchel, just picked some this morning, see?"
"Why...why...thank you!...But I have one more question, you creature of mystery."
She nodded and said "one more."
"What is your name, if I may be so bold as to ask?"
"My name?"
"Yes...your name?"
"Well......my friends call me crazy, but you can call me Esther, see?"
Someone once said 'I will' is the longest sentence.
I wonder what they were talking about?
Once upon a time on the 5th day of the 5th month of the 5th year of the century, there lived a man called Joey Cee. His nickname was Joe, after his favorite drink, iced mocha cappuccino.
Made by the fellows at Nestle.
Joey Cee, which wasn't his real name, preferred to call himself another sea-faring name, Nemo...latin for 'No Man.' Joey Cee was in a bit of a pickle, and like Puff who lived by the sea, was hungry due to a strange new illness, called by some Nemo's Revenge, and by others, the 7 year itch.
A most strange malady.
Now in his castle, a dark grim fortress, down next by the sea. Joey had a very old parchment purchased from the local merchants who sold their goods and wares at market every 5th day, using letters corresponding to numbers, as counting wasn't their specialty.
In this case the letter 'E.'
Later, they decided to simply call the market 'E' and in due time it became popular among the traders to call the entire sea coast town, by the bay, 'E.' Although some maps still refer to it as E Bay.
Coincidentally.
On the 5th line of the parchment, Joey Cee found a cure for Nemo's Revenge. But the cure called for a magical herb, a mystical plant unknown to any of his friends. After consulting the village elders, he decided to undertake a long journey to the Land of Nod. Day and night he traveled, toiling through swamps, raging rivers, torrid deserts, and high mountains. At long last, he arrived in the Land of Nod. And there, in a cave, atop a lonely mountain peak, stood a princess gazing into a large black cauldron. Joey Cee cleared his throat. He'd heard about this wily princess and was on his guard, all defenses up.
He asked "Can you help me?"
The princess looked up from her boiling cauldron, wiped the sweat off her brow, and said ever so subtly.
"I know what you are looking for. The plant...it's called Four Star Bane. I keep a store in my satchel, just picked some this morning, see?"
"Why...why...thank you!...But I have one more question, you creature of mystery."
She nodded and said "one more."
"What is your name, if I may be so bold as to ask?"
"My name?"
"Yes...your name?"
"Well......my friends call me crazy, but you can call me Esther, see?"
12 April 2008
On dating
And now here's something you'll really like. . .
Storge(affection)...two syllables and the ‘g' is hard.
The warm fuzzy feeling you get when hugging someone with a wool sweater, your feelings for a koala, pet dogs, or favorite pair of slippers. The object of your affection is simply familiar with you. That's the only requirement. It can be ugly, or old, new, refined, obtuse, cranky, warm, or slightly schizophrenic, as long as it's familiar.
Agape(what some call motherly love, selfless love, the God kind of love, loving someone unconditionally, for who they are, not for what they've done or can do or should do, just because)...and the accent is on the 1st ‘a,' not the second.
This is unqualified, unconditional, keeps no record of wrong, and is the strongest of the four types. It keeps people married when they want to do bodily harm after arguing over the thermostat. A good picture is the story of the prodigal son; the father (God) ran out to meet his runaway son (us) and killed the fattened calf.
Or what else? Say a child has no arms and legs, is blind and deaf, has leprosy, and just got word that they missed the school bus. I daresay he would have few friends in this world...that's just how people are...unfortunately. However, his mother would still have a keen awareness of his deepest needs, wants, and desires and would provide for him.
Philia (friendship) Brotherly love, where Philadelphia gets its name.
Let’s see...some examples. The local women's group that meets monthly to talk about quilting, Elks clubs or whatever the club is that attracts those old men together that drive those mini-race cars at 4th of July parades...you know, the guys with the earrings and fezzes with Osiris embroidered on the front-those guys, 3 old men reminiscing about WWII over drinks in a dingy pub, a girl's slumber party, it's me and the guys playing war, camping out, and shooting horses with pellet guns because were not smart enough to know any better (we were very young), it's a young couple exploring a museum together, pen pals. Two or more people doing something they both enjoy, and the more people doing it, the better, like going to a football game, the better...up to a point. In friendship, we don't (normally) place much importance on who the other person(s) is/are. It's the doing of the thing that matters. So long as they're doing the thing they enjoy, together...the love called Philia lives. We acquire new and lose...or rather change...our friendships over the course of our lives. Most of the time, friends are of the same gender, sometimes they're not. If not, then Philia will have an excellent opportunity to experience the 4th really close encounter type. . .the one that everyone croons about. That's right boys and girls...we're talking about Eros. The love where people not only enjoy what it is that brought them together, they look at one another. Philia almost never does. It's awkward. And in affection, the object may not even know of your existence.
Eros (erotic love) the wholly inclusive intense physical attraction between a man and woman of which sex is merely a part...not to be confused with lust.
Eros wants the beloved, Eros makes a man really want, not A woman, but one particular woman. Lust wants it, Eros wants her... in complete totality. Lust is a perverted form of Eros, much as an orc is a perverted form of an elf, or a demon the perverted angel. Actually, all evil is good perverted. That's why God has no equal. Satan is the opposite of Michael the Archangel, not God. (Michael is also my middle name).
I'm sure you're quite familiar with Eros. It's a wild untamed god who delights in mischief. It doesn't always strike two people simultaneously, when it does...its helloooo hormones, intensely dangerous, very playful, and beyond pleasurable. Like Niagara, it can't be stopped once turned on. Eros in the marital covenant should be a frenzied madness. That is how God designed it. This is the type of love God told me to let sleep until the proper time.
I avoid dating, at least one-on-one dating...I've gone out with groups of people...strictly to avoid arousing feelings of intense passion for the opposite sex. But believe me, though the god is sleeping, one day he'll awake and some special girl will discover this part of Jason that's been wandering in the wilderness. Monks make pretty good lovers you know.
Solomon said ‘Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.'
This is why I do the things I do. I'm inclined to believe the old boy was right. He had lots of experience...700 wives, 300 concubines...lots of headaches...So, believe me. I don't have anything against hugging, kissing, and cuddling. These are all needed, especially in woman. They'll die for the lack of it, and it is one reason why bodice-busting romance novels are popular among the fairer sex. Physical intimacy is as vital to women as rotisserie chicken is to me.
Perhaps, I've been overly cautious in this area. I could be you know. Even though people view me as some kind of icon of stoic, I've really a very tender heart. But I really don't trust Eros. He's dangerous. He's wily. Loves to strike when you're not looking. If I avoid him altogether, there's no fear. If I remove any temptation, I've nothing to worry about. Sure, it's not for everyone, but I don't trust myself. A candle is easy to put out; a campfire harder still; a forest fire can really mess you up. Instead of playing with matches, I avoid them. I blow up enough stuff at the lab here the way it is (I'm writing this at 300 AM at work). I REALLY do blow up stuff. It's neat. It's fun. And makes the boss happy. Does this make any sense to you, O' Gentle Reader, or have I constructed an elaborate system of self-preservation at all cost?
I'm not immune to self-delusion.
Storge(affection)...two syllables and the ‘g' is hard.
The warm fuzzy feeling you get when hugging someone with a wool sweater, your feelings for a koala, pet dogs, or favorite pair of slippers. The object of your affection is simply familiar with you. That's the only requirement. It can be ugly, or old, new, refined, obtuse, cranky, warm, or slightly schizophrenic, as long as it's familiar.
Agape(what some call motherly love, selfless love, the God kind of love, loving someone unconditionally, for who they are, not for what they've done or can do or should do, just because)...and the accent is on the 1st ‘a,' not the second.
This is unqualified, unconditional, keeps no record of wrong, and is the strongest of the four types. It keeps people married when they want to do bodily harm after arguing over the thermostat. A good picture is the story of the prodigal son; the father (God) ran out to meet his runaway son (us) and killed the fattened calf.
Or what else? Say a child has no arms and legs, is blind and deaf, has leprosy, and just got word that they missed the school bus. I daresay he would have few friends in this world...that's just how people are...unfortunately. However, his mother would still have a keen awareness of his deepest needs, wants, and desires and would provide for him.
Philia (friendship) Brotherly love, where Philadelphia gets its name.
Let’s see...some examples. The local women's group that meets monthly to talk about quilting, Elks clubs or whatever the club is that attracts those old men together that drive those mini-race cars at 4th of July parades...you know, the guys with the earrings and fezzes with Osiris embroidered on the front-those guys, 3 old men reminiscing about WWII over drinks in a dingy pub, a girl's slumber party, it's me and the guys playing war, camping out, and shooting horses with pellet guns because were not smart enough to know any better (we were very young), it's a young couple exploring a museum together, pen pals. Two or more people doing something they both enjoy, and the more people doing it, the better, like going to a football game, the better...up to a point. In friendship, we don't (normally) place much importance on who the other person(s) is/are. It's the doing of the thing that matters. So long as they're doing the thing they enjoy, together...the love called Philia lives. We acquire new and lose...or rather change...our friendships over the course of our lives. Most of the time, friends are of the same gender, sometimes they're not. If not, then Philia will have an excellent opportunity to experience the 4th really close encounter type. . .the one that everyone croons about. That's right boys and girls...we're talking about Eros. The love where people not only enjoy what it is that brought them together, they look at one another. Philia almost never does. It's awkward. And in affection, the object may not even know of your existence.
Eros (erotic love) the wholly inclusive intense physical attraction between a man and woman of which sex is merely a part...not to be confused with lust.
Eros wants the beloved, Eros makes a man really want, not A woman, but one particular woman. Lust wants it, Eros wants her... in complete totality. Lust is a perverted form of Eros, much as an orc is a perverted form of an elf, or a demon the perverted angel. Actually, all evil is good perverted. That's why God has no equal. Satan is the opposite of Michael the Archangel, not God. (Michael is also my middle name).
I'm sure you're quite familiar with Eros. It's a wild untamed god who delights in mischief. It doesn't always strike two people simultaneously, when it does...its helloooo hormones, intensely dangerous, very playful, and beyond pleasurable. Like Niagara, it can't be stopped once turned on. Eros in the marital covenant should be a frenzied madness. That is how God designed it. This is the type of love God told me to let sleep until the proper time.
I avoid dating, at least one-on-one dating...I've gone out with groups of people...strictly to avoid arousing feelings of intense passion for the opposite sex. But believe me, though the god is sleeping, one day he'll awake and some special girl will discover this part of Jason that's been wandering in the wilderness. Monks make pretty good lovers you know.
Solomon said ‘Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires.'
This is why I do the things I do. I'm inclined to believe the old boy was right. He had lots of experience...700 wives, 300 concubines...lots of headaches...So, believe me. I don't have anything against hugging, kissing, and cuddling. These are all needed, especially in woman. They'll die for the lack of it, and it is one reason why bodice-busting romance novels are popular among the fairer sex. Physical intimacy is as vital to women as rotisserie chicken is to me.
Perhaps, I've been overly cautious in this area. I could be you know. Even though people view me as some kind of icon of stoic, I've really a very tender heart. But I really don't trust Eros. He's dangerous. He's wily. Loves to strike when you're not looking. If I avoid him altogether, there's no fear. If I remove any temptation, I've nothing to worry about. Sure, it's not for everyone, but I don't trust myself. A candle is easy to put out; a campfire harder still; a forest fire can really mess you up. Instead of playing with matches, I avoid them. I blow up enough stuff at the lab here the way it is (I'm writing this at 300 AM at work). I REALLY do blow up stuff. It's neat. It's fun. And makes the boss happy. Does this make any sense to you, O' Gentle Reader, or have I constructed an elaborate system of self-preservation at all cost?
I'm not immune to self-delusion.
If anybody has an extra $2,500 they're not needing. . .
On the Norfolk Craigslist:
48,000 Books - $2500 (Norfolk)
48,000 Books - $2500 (Norfolk)
04 April 2008
Relations, Kin, and such like
I've been working on a family tree, and thought, perhaps, I would share some family photos with the blogging community.
Bobby “Bones” Jones: Bones is my older brother currently working as a part-time night janitor at Alabama University. He is a man of few words and a master of monosyllabic replies.
Some uncles: Beef and Goose. . .(Nobody remembers their real 1st names)
Beef and Goose worked for the FBI in surveillance from 67' to 83.' Last I heard from them, they was consultants to Verizon and now live at 67 Newberry St, Ct, 34687 under the federal witness protection program under the aliases Theodore Eisenstein and Nigel Thornsworth.
Horseshoe pitching with Charley Joe and J.B. “Moose” Lee
Weedeater: The family goat
Billy E. Lee: Big Bill is another cousin who owns a string of restaurants. He studied fashion design in college, but dropped out because his major professor felt that man-bra's (bros) were too risque
Scooter and Jim Bob: These here are my two twin cousins from Chatanooga. There was a 3rd twin, but he got himself adopted by a nice mormon couple out Utah ways as a young un’ and we haven’t heard from him since. Scoot and Jim Bob work on cars and remodeling old houses. They’re seriously considering starting up some kind of fix-it show with Willie ‘Bulldog’ Frank to make ends meet.
Uncle Buck: Uncle Buck is no longer with us. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t really with us for the last 25 years of his life as he was fond of something called grand theft larceny. I'm not saying he was slow, but if the Devil got sick, he's the one you'd send for the doctor.
Self Portrait: This here is me as the caption indicates. I don’t usually post pics online of myself (not being photogenetical and all), but this was one of my better hair days.
Clara Lee Sarah Bell and Nellie Rose Allie May: On a hot summer day.
Willie ‘Bulldog’ Frank: Willie made it to the big time. He currently lives in Nashville and hangs with all the big dog country singers. His claim to fame is the writer to the song 'If you wanna keep the beer cold, put it next to my ex-wife's heart.'
Hoss Jones: Hoss is a professional barn painter by trade and a world-renowned expert in imported and exported beers.
Grandpappy: Him’s the one who started it all.
“Scrap Iron,” Benji, and Ida May Nellie Rose-Iron: On their wedding day: Scrap Iron and Ida got married after 8 long years of dating and courting. Benji is still looking for a mate. Him’s the dog, btw.
Iron's wedding cake.
Bobby “Bones” Jones: Bones is my older brother currently working as a part-time night janitor at Alabama University. He is a man of few words and a master of monosyllabic replies.
Some uncles: Beef and Goose. . .(Nobody remembers their real 1st names)
Beef and Goose worked for the FBI in surveillance from 67' to 83.' Last I heard from them, they was consultants to Verizon and now live at 67 Newberry St, Ct, 34687 under the federal witness protection program under the aliases Theodore Eisenstein and Nigel Thornsworth.
Horseshoe pitching with Charley Joe and J.B. “Moose” Lee
Weedeater: The family goat
Billy E. Lee: Big Bill is another cousin who owns a string of restaurants. He studied fashion design in college, but dropped out because his major professor felt that man-bra's (bros) were too risque
Scooter and Jim Bob: These here are my two twin cousins from Chatanooga. There was a 3rd twin, but he got himself adopted by a nice mormon couple out Utah ways as a young un’ and we haven’t heard from him since. Scoot and Jim Bob work on cars and remodeling old houses. They’re seriously considering starting up some kind of fix-it show with Willie ‘Bulldog’ Frank to make ends meet.
Uncle Buck: Uncle Buck is no longer with us. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t really with us for the last 25 years of his life as he was fond of something called grand theft larceny. I'm not saying he was slow, but if the Devil got sick, he's the one you'd send for the doctor.
Self Portrait: This here is me as the caption indicates. I don’t usually post pics online of myself (not being photogenetical and all), but this was one of my better hair days.
Clara Lee Sarah Bell and Nellie Rose Allie May: On a hot summer day.
Willie ‘Bulldog’ Frank: Willie made it to the big time. He currently lives in Nashville and hangs with all the big dog country singers. His claim to fame is the writer to the song 'If you wanna keep the beer cold, put it next to my ex-wife's heart.'
Hoss Jones: Hoss is a professional barn painter by trade and a world-renowned expert in imported and exported beers.
Grandpappy: Him’s the one who started it all.
“Scrap Iron,” Benji, and Ida May Nellie Rose-Iron: On their wedding day: Scrap Iron and Ida got married after 8 long years of dating and courting. Benji is still looking for a mate. Him’s the dog, btw.
Iron's wedding cake.
01 April 2008
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