SNUFF 'N STUFF
The famous fiddler from the South
Had just put a wad of chaw in his mouth
A gentile lady of manner berated his action
Saying it was a disgusting distraction
To which the fiddler replied with a smile
"I'll just give you this little piece of style"
"A gift from me to you, some free advice"
"No woman is ever gonna slap my face - twice"
Had just put a wad of chaw in his mouth
A gentile lady of manner berated his action
Saying it was a disgusting distraction
To which the fiddler replied with a smile
"I'll just give you this little piece of style"
"A gift from me to you, some free advice"
"No woman is ever gonna slap my face - twice"
© 2025 Brian McNeal
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LITTLE RED DOTS
We were sittin' around one evening, just watchin' the tube
When we heard a commotion at the back of the house
It was a break-in home invasion by a no-account rube
Now I don't cotton to robbery but I don't like to grouse.
Here he came, from the back where the guns are
While we were in the front without protection
Then, suddenly, I remembered the laser pointers were not far
I grabbed one and the wife the other without objection.
From two sides of the room those beams danced across his face
Next thing we knew our big tomcat was up in the air like a Benihana cleaver
With the other two cats hot on the chase
That burgler boy was looking at a triple dose of cat scratch fever.
Our cats went after those little red dots like three miners after the same gold
Quick as a Texas Two-Step they had him down on the rug
Scratching, clawing, biting and makin' his blood run cold
Right about then, I'm sure he was thinkin' over his options as a career thug.
The big tomcat had one of his eyes out of the socket
There was so much loose skin we couldn't tell if he had two ears or three
Somehow the wife's beam had slipped down to his front pant's pocket
And the orange tabby made sure he'll remember this night every time he needs to pee.
The Sheriff's deputies laughed so hard when we told 'em the details
They didn't know how to write it down in their report
They decided they would just haul him off to the county jail
And put down "defensive wounds from a feline contact sport".
They took pictures and collected samples to use later in court
Then the Siamese started coughin' and hackin' like she had a hairball
The wife was trying to help her when she spit up something right on the davenport
The deputies looked it over and identified it as the tip of his finger, nail and all.
Then one of the deputies started gettin' a bit pale
He looked at the partial finger and quickly ran for the privy
When he came back in, he said, "I'm normally not that frail"
"But I got to thinkin' how lucky he was that it was the Siamese and not the orange kitty."
They were on the air with Dispatch wondering about impounding our pets
When they realized we still had the laser beams
Could they make it to the squad car? They were mentally making bets
But then Dispatch told 'em to turn that part over to the animal teams.
The paramedics proclaimed that he'd live but he'll look a lot less attractive
With the number of scars left after the sutures
They didn't quite understand why our cats were so hyperactive
But he'll save money on halloween masks in the future.
Well, we got the dreaded call from Animal Control the very next day
We had prepared all night and were ready to do battle before we'd surrender
But they just laughed and so did we when we heard what they had to say
They were lookin' to buy a case of the same lasers and wanted to know the vendor.
...
© 2024 Brian McNeal Published 4/28/24 NATIONAL COWBOY POETRY GATHERING FAN PAGE
Oh, and by the way, we've changed the names of our odd petsThe Siamese is Lorena, the big tomcat is John WayneThe vicious orange tabby is BobbittAnd we have a new Doberman now we call Bloodstain.
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COWBOY ALARM CLOCKI'm here to tell ya just exactly whyYou'll never hear a cowboy's alarm clock ringCowboys already know, but for city folk, I'll tryIt's simply because there just ain't no such thing.There are any number of reasonsWhy a cowboy doesn't need an alarm clockMost of them have to do with animals and seasonsBut the best is because he comes from good stockSleepin' in late is nary a considerationThere are animals to feed and chores to be doneAll before breakfast and coffee stimulationIt's just the way a ranch is runGrowin' up rural on the cattle spreadGives one a sense of accomplishmentA chance to work with your hands and your headNo one will ever say a ranch kid ain't self-confidentThey may not do two-thumb typingOn the latest handheld deviceBut you'll never hear them gripingThey've not been duped by a fools paradiseIt's not that ranch kids go withoutIt's more about learning to make doHow to look at a problem and figure it outRanch life gives them skills to accrueHis dad and grandad were both the same wayTraditions passed down and lessons learnedCowboys get their makeup from good swayBut it don't come easy, it's hard-earned.So a cowboy grows up and carrys onA lifestyle like his ancestors of yoreNo wakeup call needed to be up before dawnLike yesterday and the day before, today begins with a choreJust like moms have eyes in the back of their headA cowboy has a built in clock that tells him whenHe'll rely upon that clock untill the day he's deadYou may not comprehend because it's a thing for cowboys, girls, women and men© 2024 Brian McNeal
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THINGS THEY WILL NEVER KNOW
When the "Kodak Moment" happened just as the film ran out
How to make a "long distance call" instead of a shout
Dimming your headlights with the toe of your left foot
Or how to turn real pages in a good book.
Cleaning the chimney and filling the lamp with oil
Waiting longer than a minute for the water to boil.
Making a change for the good without mayhem
Or just making change without a computer to help 'em
What a sock-hop is and a ten cent flick
When "on demand" meant: "do it quick"
How to share music in a listening booth
Or the difference between real and fake truth.
When a cloud stored only rainwater
Why it's good to have an alma mater
What the "rewind" button actually does
And to do what Mama said, just because.
Telling time without a digital clock
Getting excited about going to the cakewalk
What the letters V-C-R actually stand for
Or why it's important to always close the barn door.
When a doctor had the only belt that would beep
How to talk without using text-speak
Holes on the sides of the paper for the tractor feed
Or how to find a job without INDEED.
How to do research without asking Google
The serenity of "Taps" when played on a real bugle
Using all ten fingers on the typewriter keys
Or how much more they can get with the word "please."
What someone means when they need pen and paper
What happens when a plane flies into a skyscraper
Cosmic rays are not something they invented
And coffee is already scented
There is no such thing as artificial intelligence
That politeness and courtesy should take precedence
Just why they should prepare a checklist
Or that real and tangible stupidity does exist
Why people needed carbon paper for their typewriters
That they didn't originate the name "Foo Fighters"
The original meaning of the word "Geek"
Or why it's wise to think before you misspeak
What is meant by the term "Broken Record"
Or why it's necessary to go back to the drawing board
That some things still take a long time to finish
Or why hurrying will cause the quality to diminish
How to write in cursive
Why a song has verses
That a man can never be a female
Or that knowledge requires one to travail
The list goes on and on and will never end
Time changes, and technology will always transcend
The shear amount of what they don't know amazes me
But I don't know why they frown on learning history
© 2024 Brian McNeal
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CITY RANCHERS
Well, I suppose it was bound to happen sometime,
People from the city encroaching past the rural line.
As life gives us chances to experience things anew,
More and more of the clueless come into view.
Pushing the envelope to advance and grow,
Is only good so long as you don't crow.
Getting bigger than your britches can be fateful,
When you've helped yourself to more'n a plateful.
"A man's got to know his limitations," according to Dirty Harry.
Cross the line, and you'll never get any prize more than tertiary.
Wiser words were never said by anyone since St. Francis of Assisi.
It's much like paying for a Mercedes and getting a Mitsubishi.
And so it is with those who delve into areas unknown,
When crops and livestock never become fully grown.
Life and Mother Nature have a way to put them back in their place.
If only they were smart enough to realize when they fall flat on their face.
People who leave the city for a rural life,
Are like the priest who takes a wife,
Or like a butcher without a knife,
Like Las Vegas without the nightlife.
Out of their area of expertise to say the least,
Running wild like a dog unleashed,
Never hearing the words that were preached,
Doomed to fail and fall prey to the beast.
Well, I suppose it was bound to happen sometime,
People from the city encroaching past the rural line.
As life gives us chances to experience things anew,
More and more of the clueless come into view.
Pushing the envelope to advance and grow,
Is only good so long as you don't crow.
Getting bigger than your britches can be fateful,
When you've helped yourself to more'n a plateful.
"A man's got to know his limitations," according to Dirty Harry.
Cross the line, and you'll never get any prize more than tertiary.
Wiser words were never said by anyone since St. Francis of Assisi.
It's much like paying for a Mercedes and getting a Mitsubishi.
And so it is with those who delve into areas unknown,
When crops and livestock never become fully grown.
Life and Mother Nature have a way to put them back in their place.
If only they were smart enough to realize when they fall flat on their face.
People who leave the city for a rural life,
Are like the priest who takes a wife,
Or like a butcher without a knife,
Like Las Vegas without the nightlife.
Out of their area of expertise to say the least,
Running wild like a dog unleashed,
Never hearing the words that were preached,
Doomed to fail and fall prey to the beast.
© 2025 / Brian McNeal
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BRANDED WOMEN
Cowboys like brands
Like beaches like sand
Like a groupie likes her band
Like a desperado likes the badlands
A cowboy needs a brand of his own
Like a dog needs a good bone
Like a king needs a throne
Like a teenager needs a phone
A cowboy's brand must be unique
Like the snowcapped crest on Pike's Peak
Like the justice the judge seeks
Like the Lord's words when he speaks
Cowboys know to use their brands on their cows
Or on their chaps and tack somehow
Or on the sign above the ranch gate now
But never on a dad-blamed hausfrau
Some call 'em tats
For those who might be a bit daft
Others call 'em brands for dingbats
For those with no moral format
Brands are made for a single reason
To be used as needed in the branding season
Wrongful use is cowboy treason
Which is why a branded woman is none too pleasin'
© 2025 / Brian McNeal
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PREYING PRIESTSPreying priests are the least.The lowest form of humanity.Nurturing trust in youth to be released,When the Devil displays insanityWhat they do is unforgivable,Turning truth into fantasy,Making life unlivable.Committing undeniable blasphemy.Trusting the care of a child to a devil's disciple,Is more sinful than a school shooting.Allowing one who is completely gullibleTo fend off pediphiles recruitingOnly two outcomes are visible,Therapy for life or suicide forever.Priests who prey are criminal,Like Satan, they belong in the nether.But the worst of the whole damn lot,Guilty by deed and complicity,Are the priests at the top,Hiding offenders away to avoid publicity.© 2025 / Brian McNeal
CORPORATE PANHANDLINGThousands, if not millions, of dollars every dayAre collected by corporate giants using your money to playIt's a simple concept they call "Rounding Up"But it's not like the Old West cattle roundupIt's a scheme to where they get you do donate your extra changeFrom a purchase - like takin' your neigbor's cattle off his rangeIt seems harmless enough on the surface to just give a few crownsUntil you realize all those "Round Ups" multiply and compoundThe game they play is a dodge called corporate "Tax Break"It's where they pay less than they owe due to a lower tax rateRemember it's not the customers who reap the rewardsBut rather, it's the Billionaire corporate lordsCorporate training now is universal all across the boardCashiers and self-scan computers all want to hoardGive 'em your left-over change at every place you shopBut, drive by a homeless man with a sign and don't even stopThe charity your extra coins may assist is not what you thinkIt's the corporate board and stockholders, the "Round-up Group, Inc."It's a lot more than just a passing fad when it changes our cultureIt's a dirty trick from the "Dirty Trick" squad of vulturesSo, just say "NO" when you go to the store and are asked the questionIf you're shy and feel a bit sheepish, just wear your big tall stetsonDon't be bullied or duped into thinking it's something you gotta doStand firm, hold your ground. Cause 'em to pay the taxes that are due
© 2025 / Brian McNeal
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TRUTH AND TIME
The thing about truth is that it may not be constant
We take for granted that what was will be again
The sun came up in the east this morning
And we expect that to be true until the end
However, that logic is unsound in every case
Once upon a time, the Russians were on our side
Truth can be a fickle master if we're not careful
Now we look high and low for Russian spies
The Internet is full of old truths that don't hold
There are no housekeeping rules to clean out the crap
No way to differentiate between current and old
And no way to turn off the tap
There is always the case where it was never true to start
Supposed facts are posted as true, when not
Because it's a form of writing, we take it as gospel
Duped by our own ignorance and blind spot
I called a number and asked for John
"John hasn't had this number for ten years or more"
The problem was an old phone book I used
The Internet is the same. We're losing the battle in the information war
When there are no rules, anything goes
Like a football game with receivers on motorcycles
Whatever you want, no one will stop you
No Internet police, no overlord, no Saint Michael
The thing about truth is that it may not be constant
We take for granted that what was will be again
The sun came up in the east this morning
And we expect that to be true until the end
However, that logic is unsound in every case
Once upon a time, the Russians were on our side
Truth can be a fickle master if we're not careful
Now we look high and low for Russian spies
The Internet is full of old truths that don't hold
There are no housekeeping rules to clean out the crap
No way to differentiate between current and old
And no way to turn off the tap
There is always the case where it was never true to start
Supposed facts are posted as true, when not
Because it's a form of writing, we take it as gospel
Duped by our own ignorance and blind spot
I called a number and asked for John
"John hasn't had this number for ten years or more"
The problem was an old phone book I used
The Internet is the same. We're losing the battle in the information war
When there are no rules, anything goes
Like a football game with receivers on motorcycles
Whatever you want, no one will stop you
No Internet police, no overlord, no Saint Michael
© 2025 / Brian McNeal
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BOB, THE CIGAR GUY
Some liked to choke but I didn't careLike an indentifying fingerprintIt told us Uncle Bob had been thereCigar smoke of a certain brandFind 'em at every newsstandIt wasn't a flower or a spice scentThe kind most didn't understand
Smoke 'em everywhere, the house, the car, the parkYou could always see him in the darkHe'd light up anytime, anywhere
Bob's cigars were his trademark
© 2025 / Brian McNeal
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EVERYONE WANTS MONEY
Seems no one wants to work for wages
All want to be fed like animals in cages
Everywhere I go, someone has their hand out
It's a culture now. Panhandling is what it's all about
The unwashed guy with the cardboard sign on the street
Is he really a Vietnam Vet or is it pure deceit
If he really needs help, why is he not at Social Services?
The problem is, we don't know what his real purpose is
Is he living in subsidized housing faking homelessness?
Preying upon society's collective consciousness?
Cardboard signs are a changing fad, like having a pet
"Will Work for food" has been updated to "Homeless Vet"
Next in line for your cash is every retail store in the land
Even the automated cash registers that are unmanned
Every one of them wants you to donate your extra cash
So they can claim the rewards at tax time — balderdash
Oh, but let's not forget public broadcasters on the air
At least twice a year they grovel for you to care
Send your pledge in any amount for the entire year
Cajole, coerce, browbeat, needle, and yes, even fear
Even the food servers get upset when tips are humble
Biting the hand that feeds them while they grumble
Does anyone ever want to make it on their own?
Do we always have to listen to the beggars moan?
© 2025 / Brian McNeal
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