Camp Howdy

Just for the record: I don't know what fucking color that is. Thanks for asking.
 

This idea is sounding better & better....especially with nice T-shirts as such, just may hafta order one of those, but I gotta find out if it says "Eddie Shore" on the back. Hmmm, I'm sure ther'll be campsites, might hafta call & see 'bout it. Do we have any mesquite left?
 

I swear there were a bunch of sizes yesterday. They're about to sell out.
 

QUE?!?!?!?!?

STANIMALS?!??!?!

'Killin me . . . .

"Fucking color?"

Well, usually it's dark.

Less ya leave the lights on.

Or yer doin it under a streetlamp at a fest.

You people continue to confuse me.
Do yer wimmen's know you talk like this?
 

I still don't 'get' the Stanimals thing nor how that's referenced with Fernwood . . . Buehller?
 

So, if you actually click on the link and then go check out the events at the bar at Fernwood and check to see what's up for St. Patrick's Day you'll find our ol' buddy Stanimal playing Saturday night which seems like a great thing to do for the wearing o' the green: hang out burning wood, picking songs and listening to the babbling brook. We'll tell you about it later.
 

Dude, you really spell more of it out, more.
That's a circuitious presumptin I'd NEVER get.
Did anyone else??????? Oh, ya, y'all KNOW Stanimal and such . . . never mind, I ain't gonna be there, anyway. I don't think . . .
 

I'm planning on getting our big soup pot and putting a slab of brisket, a chopped up head of cabbage and a bag of little red taters on about noonish Saturday. I figure they'll charge fifteen bucks or so for a plate of boiled dinner and we'll be ahead of the game by the time Cuz gets there.
 

Little Red B Tators . . . yer top shelf, hoss, nice!

Garlic, and onions, lots of them both.
Pickling spices.
White wine vinegar.
White wine worcestershire.
Salt the briscuit for a couple of hours or two with coarse sea salts, I mean PACK that puppy with them.

Heck, do that overnight on Friday if ya can.

Wash it off good before boilin down wif dat caggabe.

Hey, it's the only I can sing . . .

N yer killin me. Yer a good Irishman, hoss, way to take care of the camp . . .