Just a Little Gangsta

A Gangsta Life is a Life for Me

 Tupac? Biggie? Fred? Yeah, you know a good gangsta when you hear one. Only thing is I'm still here. That's right. I said it. I am still here. Got more lives than a Siamese cat. With longevity comes having to choose sides.  Well, today, I decided to be a Red.

 Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against other colors, but red brings out the color in my, um, rust. Besides, with all the blood I have spilled, it just seems to fit my style.

 Whats a skeleton doing in a gang, you might ask? Hey, what else am I gonna do for fun? Problem with these wanna be's is the fact that they do stupid stuff like steal hubcaps and scare old ladies. Nah, that ain't my style. I needed more. I got more......

 Fred "the Crypt Keeper" Skeleton officially took the reigns of the South Coochee Red Necks back in 19 and 85. Run DMC was rockin with Aerosmith and we were lookin for cows to tip. Let me just say that not all  field pies are created equally. Ever wonder what happened to my foot? Let's just say there was some extra potent alfalfa in that grass that day.

Gangster, Not Gangsta

 When you are my age, there isn't a whole lot you haven't seen...........or done. Take these pictures, for example. You may see a brick wall and a handsome looking skeleton. Truth is, I used to have a dark side. A side I rarely share with people. Now that my "family" is all behind bars, I guess I'm free to share a little of what we used to do.

 What you see here is a turpentine still. Silly mortals. If this was simply a turpentine still, do you honestly think I would take the time to stop and take pictures here? Seriously? That's how little you think of me? No, there are secrets here. LOT'S of secrets here. Secrets you MAY discover if you follow my story long enough. I'm not the type of skeleton to spill my guts that easily. Hold your horses and you may like what you discover....

For years, I mean like centuries, we didn't have horses in this country. Heck, we barely had a country when I moved here. For the majority of that time, we either had to haul ass (Donkeys for you prudes) or go horseback. Sometime in the last century, however, we got the horseless carriage.  Yep, cars........ With cars, we needed gasoline and I had the right connections to supply this rinky dink town. And supply is just what I did.

 We supplied fuel for trains, planes and automobiles. We ran tractors, trucks and motorcycles. Hell, if it had an engine, we supplied the fuel to keep it running. But guess what, supplying all that gas came at a price. All I can say is I hope you aren't related to anyone who couldn't foot the bill. Just sayin....but anyway, I digress. Oh, the turpentine still? Yeah, it was just a front. Sorry to anyone who thought it was legit.

 Ok, I said I wouldn't spill my guts this easy, but I figured if I didn't, you would stop reading.I killed 27 men. There, I said it. Stop reading now or keep reading. Your choice....

 WOW, you kept reading? I knew you would. Lol. Like I ever doubted you...... What are you looking at? Oh, that car? Yeah, it has a story. You wanna hear about it, don't you? I knew you did. Sit back and let me tell you a little story. It goes a little something like this..........

 I killed 27 men. End of story.

I killed 27 men and each one of them took a final ride in my little hot rod right here. Here is where they are buried. Here is where their story ends. Wanna know more? Want to know if anyone YOU know is buried here?

I'll never tell................ at least not in this blog. Sorry, but you are just gonna have to keep reading....

Shake Your Groove Thang......

As an educated skeleton, I find that not everything stimulating comes from the library. Although that internet experience was, well, um, anyway.....Back to what I was saying. I guess I was still looking for something else to stimulate my mind. Here it comes. You knew I was gonna do it. I said to myself, "Self, what else is missing?" Then it hit me. Up to this moment in my life, I had never stopped to smell the roses, nor had I ever slowed down enough to enjoy some good ole Rock 'N Roll. That is, until I found Walter's Sony Walkman MP3 player.....

 I grabbed that bad boy, snagged me some chips and a soda and just relaxed for about all of 3 and a half minutes until I realized that the MP3 was set on random. Random. Have you ever thought about what that word means? It can bring about a lot of different reactions. A person can have a random thought. Someone can do something random or out of the ordinary. Let's just say when the next song came on, I began to think that Walter was RANDOM. What are these kids listening to these days anyway???

 My apologies for saying Walter was Random. Lol. Ok, yes he is very Random. But that's what makes him unique. Come on, you know it's true. I'm smiling now because I know what's on his MP3 and you have NO CLUE.... Trust me, if you did, you would probably blackmail him, but don't tell him I mentioned it to you.

 After about 30 minutes of music shuffling around around, I found something I could dance to. I could sit there no longer. I wanted to "Shake My Groove Thang," "Shake My Booty," and a few other things that might be inappropriate for this blog. I may be a little rusty, but it didn't take too long for me to get limber and cut a rug. Ok, actually the rug got cut because where I'm missing a foot, my metal wire is exposed and it snagged it.

Walter came in and saw that I had destroyed his rug and said I needed to sit and think about what I had done. I grabbed a close friend of mine, or what was left of him, and had a long discussion. We decided that there was nothing wrong with what I had done and it was Walter who had some issues. (As if you didn't already know that).

Well, that's about all I have to say about shaking my groove thang. If you are really that interested in me shaking my groove thang, you should check out my private blog at yougottabekiddingme.blog.com.  (Actually I have no idea if that is a blog so if you go there and find anything naughty, I didn't put it there). Ok, peace out and I'll be back later...

A Changed Skeleton

 Well, first thing Walter did once he realized I could read and write was to put me to work in his office. It wasn't THAT bad I guess. Crunching numbers or something like that is what he called it. Playing with a freakin calculator is what I called it, but don't tell him that.

 Once I finished playing in the office, I thought I would go scope out the chicks near the water fountain. I waited. And waited. And waited. Finally I said what the heck and helped myself to a gallon of that stuff. Let's just say that it didn't take long for me to realize that just because I am made of foam, doesn't mean I can keep all that water in my system.

 Before long, I found myself at the urinal. You did know that isn't rock candy in the bottom of those things, right? Oh, you did know that? Well thanks for the heads up. Sheesh, what's a skeleton got to do around here for someone to throw him a freakin bone??? Like I even knew what a urinal was....

This last photo really struck a nerve with me. It was the first time I actually saw myself. Now here I was, a literate skeleton seeking a new life. I had a library card and internet access. I could charm old ladies and pee standing up. By golly, it was time for a change. The first thing that had to go was this stupid outfit I was wearing. I said to myself, "Self, (yes, I still called myself that. As if you thought I was gonna change it or something) I think I know what I need to do. I need to upgrade my wardrobe." And that's exactly what I did next.

"I" is for I Can Read....

 Now you might be thinking "How on earth can a skeleton read?" What you should be asking is why are you reading a blog written by a skeleton.... That's beside the point. But anyway, I found myself no longer having to work, but at the same time, bored out of my mind. So I said to myself, "Self, (that's what I call myself), why am I so bored all the time? Is it that Walter mistreats me? Is it that he leaves me at home while he is gone to work all day? Is it that there really is something more to life than this?" The answer was simple and it had nothing to do with any of those questions I just mentioned. The answer was that I needed a little edumacation in my life. So first things first, I decided to get a library card.

 Once I got that card, I was able to get online. WOW, be sure to use some sort of filter when surfing the net because let's just say, some things are better left undiscovered....

 It was apparent that I was having a few issues with my search, that or these old ladies thought I reminded them of someone dear to their hearts and they just wanted to come warm me up. Different strokes for different folks I guess....

Not sure what was on their minds when they first saw me enter the door, but it's obvious that I left them with a smile on their face as I left.

Celebration

 Now once I was free, and seeing as how I haven't been fed in like 500+ years, I decided it was time for good meal. What I got, however, wasn't exactly what I was expecting. I made Walter a bet that I was so hungry I could eat like 100 dozen eggs. How was I supposed to know that he actually knew a place that had that many eggs? Well you guessed it.... He won the bet. I was only able to eat about 50 dozen. But.............

The good folks in the town got together after my accomplishment and decided to have a celebration. Disregard the sign. Yes, I know it says Milan Harvest Festival, but hey, I'm the skeleton who ate 50 dozen eggs. If that isn't cause for celebration, I don't know what is....

Freedom

 So there I was, propped up against a tree in a little town called Lakeland. The yard sale was going pretty good, but I was worried that nobody wanted me. You see, for me, "Life ain't been no crystal stair."

 I started my career in a theme park nearby. You may have heard of this one, it's called Wild Adventures. Every Fall they would dress me up and put me out to scare the visitors. What a freakin stereotype if you ask me. Just cause I'm a skeleton doesn't mean I want to scare people. I'm a people skeleton. I mean, come on, haven't you ever heard of Casper the FRIENDLY Ghost? Not all skeletons are bad. Just sayin...

 Okay, where was I? Oh yes, for some reason, maybe because I lost a finger and a complete foot, the "management" at Wild Adventures felt that I was no longer of service to them. It was then that I was about to get my freedom. Or so I thought.......

 There were lots of stipulations upon my release. First of all, I was still going to be used to scare people. This lady in Lakeland had a problem with strangers walking through her yard at night. Somehow she found me and thought that I would make the perfect "Scarecrow" or something like that. Anywho, she propped me up on her porch and miraculously, people stopped walking through there.

 Here I thought I was being paroled and now I was forced to do my work full time. At least with the theme park I was able get cozy in the storage building with the cute cat ladies and funny looking pumpkin critters and such. Not now. Now I was forced to stand on a porch 24-7 and scare people from walking through some woman's yard. Let's just say I was hoping for a change.

Finally, in September of 2010, I was free. "Free at last, Free at Last." The lady must have gotten all the use out of me as she could. That or she needed the money. One Saturday morning she decided to have a yard sale. A sale on the very same day that the scouting community would gather at Camp Patten. A day when Walter Goff would see a bargain and jump on it before it slipped away.

I saw him as he passed by. His eyes bugged out when he saw me standing next to the pecan tree. I heard the squeak of his brakes as he whipped his truck around and headed back to get a closer look. I swear, you would have thought he was on the beach with a pair of binoculars when a pretty blonde walked past. Walter knew he saw something special. He knew that there was more to me than just an opportunity to scare people. Walter was willing to give me LIFE........