The Hancock-Henderson Quill, Inc.
Greetings to ever one in Western Illinois and all readers of The Quill.
It seems I'm a hear'n more and more folk a say'n they would like a rain. It would be nice if'n they would quantify their request so's we'd not be gifted to much. Some wet holes from last spring haven't dried out completely yet.
Nostalgia
A feller I knows was in Ft. Myers, Florida the other day and reported a strange sight. He saw a bumper sticker on a parked car in a public garage that read "I miss Chicago".
After transact'n his business he came back to find the same car with a broken window, the radio stolen along with two of its tires. An Obama bumper sticker had been added with a note on the windshield which read "I hope this helps"!
Lesson on Marine Mugg'n
That reminds me of an actual Craig's list personals ad a few years back which stated the following:
To the Guy Who Tried to Mug Me in Downtown Savannah night before last.
Date: 2010-09-27, 1:43 a.m. E.S.T.
I was the guy wearing the black Burberry jacket that you demanded that I hand over, shortly after you pulled the knife on me and my girlfriend, threatening our lives...You also asked for my girlfriend's purse and earrings. I can only hope that you somehow come across this rather important message.
First, I'd like to apologize for your embarrassment; I didn't expect you to actually crap in your pants when I drew my pistol after you took my jacket...The evening was not that cold, and I was wearing the jacket for a reason...my girlfriend was happy that I just returned safely from my 2nd tour as a Combat Marine in Afghanistan...She had just bought me that Kimber Custom Model 1911 .45 ACP pistol for my birthday, and we had picked up a shoulder holster for it that very evening. Obviously you agree that it is a very intimidating weapon when pointed at your head...isn't it?!
I know it probably wasn't fun walking back to wherever you'd come from with crap in your pants. I'm sure it was even worse walking bare-footed since I made you leave your shoes, cell phone, and wallet with me. (That prevented you from calling or running to your buddies to come help mug us again).
After I called your mother or "Momma" as you had her listed in your cell, I explained the entire episode of what you'd done. Then I went and filled up my gas tank as well as those of four other people in the gas station,...on your credit card. The guy with the big motor home took 153 gallons and was extremely grateful!
I gave your shoes to a homeless guy outside Vinnie Van Go Go's, along with all the cash in your wallet. (That made his day!)
I then threw your wallet into the big pink "pimp mobile" that was parked at the curb...after I broke the windshield and side window and keyed the entire driver's side of the car.
Earlier, I managed to get in two threatening phone calls to the DA's office and one to the FBI, while mentioning President Obama as my possible target.
The FBI guy seemed really intense and we had a nice long chat (I guess while he traced your number etc.)
In a way, perhaps I should apologize for not killing you...but I feel this type of retribution is far more appropriate punishment for your threatened crime. I wish you well as you try to sort through some of these rather immediate pressing issues, and can only hope that you have the opportunity to reflect upon, and perhaps reconsider, the career path you've chosen to pursue in life. Remember, next time you might not be so lucky. Have a good day!
Thoughtfully yours, Semper Fi, Alex
Well, I'll be jiggered if'n Alex shore enough knew how to teach a feller a good lesson.
The Little Red Hen
Speak'n of lessons, Cornelius Farkwad shared with us fellers recently a lesson on the little Red Hen....2013:
The Little Red Hen....2013
"Who will help me plant my wheat?" asked the little red hen.
"Not I," said the cow.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Not I," said the pig.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Then I will do it by myself." She planted her crop and the wheat grew and ripened.
"Who will help me reap my wheat?" asked the little red hen.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Out of my classification," said the pig.
"I'd lose my seniority," said the cow.
"I'd lose my unemployment compensation," said the goose.
"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen, and so she did.
"Who will help me bake the bread?" asked the little red hen.
"That would be overtime for me," said the cow.
"I'd lose my welfare benefits," said the duck.
"I'm a dropout and never learned how," said the pig.
"If I'm to be the only helper, that's discrimination," said the goose.
"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen.
She baked five loaves and held them up for all of her neighbors to see. They wanted some and, in fact, demanded a share but the little red hen said,
"No, I shall eat all five loaves."
"Excess profits!" cried the cow...(Nancy Pelosi)
"Capitalist leech!" screamed the duck. (Barbara Boxer)
"I demand equal rights!" yelled the goose. (Jesse Jackson)
The pig just grunted in disdain....(Harry Reid)
And they all painted "Unfair!" picket signs and marched around and around the little red hen, shouting obscenities.
When farmer Obama came, he said to the little red hen,
"You must not be so greedy."
"But I worked, I earned the bread," said the little red hen.
"Exactly," said Obama the farmer. "That is what makes our free enterprise system so wonderful. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much as he wants. But under our modern government regulations, the productive workers must divide the fruits of their labor with those who are lazy and idle."
And they all lived happily ever after, including the little red hen, who smiled and clucked,
"I am grateful, for now I truly understand."
But her neighbors became quite disappointed in her. She never again baked bread because she joined the "party" and got her bread free. And all the Politicians smiled.
"Fairness" had been established. Individual initiative had died but nobody noticed; perhaps no one cared so long as there was free bread that "the rich" were paying for.
And perhaps...this is the end.....................
No, not the end because after a while, there was no bread, or anything else to eat.
So, they all starved equally.
Now.
The End
Thar ya has it then, Cornelius's story on the Little Red Hen, after which Jasper Jenx shared his little bit of information of what a great Barnyard we live in:
Memories
Bill Clinton is gett'n $12 million fer his memoirs
Hillary got 8 million fer hers.
Thats $20 millions fer the memories from two people, who fer eight years repeatedly testified, under oath, that they couldn't remember anything.
Thar ya has it then-food fer thought.
That's all fer this column, their ain't no more.
Have a good week and where ever ya is,
What ever ya be a do'n BE A GOOD ONE!
Hope'n to see youn's in church this weekend.
Keep on Smile'n
Catch ya later
In neighborly love
Barnyard Bruke