Monday, March 17, 2008

Code Of The Woods

It’s an unwritten law, a code of the woods and there ain’t nothing in black and white about it but never leave a man’s camp unless you leave him enough wood to build a fire and keep him going a little while. You never break into a man’s camp, but if you’re stuck out you will go into it, but you leave it the way it was. You leave a note telling why you was in there. You know to keep from freezing to death or something like that. You never steal from a man in the woods and if you find a man in trouble you help him out and get him going the best you can. If he stuck a hundred dollar bill in your face, you’d never take it. Bob

Bob Feeds A Gorby

You want something. You come down and get it out of the can. No more of your farting around here. Chirp chirp, come on little piss pot. I know you’re hungry because you’re squawking away about it. I ain’t gonna bite ya. Bob

Beaver Castors

That right there is what they make their perfume out of. Them are beaver castors. That’s what they use to make this perfume for these women. Probably most of them if they knew where it come from probably wouldn’t even wear the perfume which might be a good thing. These ladies primp themselves all up and get themselves smelling like anything but a woman. And they pay good money to do it. I’m surprised they don’t shave it off their goddamn pussy. Well I’ve fucked women when the sweat was running right off them, Jesus Christ, the old bellies were a slopping and that’s when it’s good and everything is right. Well, what the hell, that’s the way it’s supposed to be. If she needs to take a bath, she can take a bath right here in the brook. She don’t need all these smelling salts they put in the water and all that happy horse shit. You know, that don’t make a woman. In fact it ruins one. Bob


Oh hell, if I could find a woman to come in here, as long as I had enough goddamn grub, I’d never go out. A man couldn’t ask for anything more. Christ he’d have the world right by the ass. But you take these women plaster the goddamn perfume and deodorant to ‘em and shit they don’t even smell like women. Christ, years ago they never shaved the hair off under their arms, and stuff today, they shave it off, scared to death, Jesus Christ, a bubble of sweat come on ‘em, they wipe it off and spray some shit it. Bob