When life gives you lemons you make lemonade

So there is the posse. On the left is billy bob, im in the middle and willis is on the right. Yes indeedy we were a formidable group. always full of smiles and fun as you can see. Now i can here the questions forming in you mind. What the hell is up with the igloo? Who still eats dubble bubble by the bucket? Where is this? Who owns that crappy ass honda in the back? Well here are your damn answers. First off we were in the bitter tundra called virginia. i understand there are many of you who might claim that virginia is the south and the confederation started there and all. but from all of us down here in southern georgia just have one thing to tell you. fuck off, snow means north. and i can see some damn snow in this picture here. anyhow we were up in the tundra where it is always at least a little chilly and we had nothing to do. see, me and willis were roommates and billy bob lived across campus( a five minute walk but it isnt worth it when its snowing). normally he would just sleep on our couch and then we would have b-fast before french. but we were bored and it was still two hours till our dinner time. then willis suggest that we go and build and igloo. since me and billy bob are from the deep south-billy bob is alabaman- we had never done this before, hell weeks earlier we had our first snowball fight. we hated it because you get all wet and then cold and it just isnt that pleasant, plus we werent 4 anymore. but igloos still sounded cool. so we got a couple of trashcans, thats what the bricks for the walls were made from, and we went to work. 5 hours later it was complete and little did we know that it was already time for dinner. luckily we got there with 30 minutes left so we had time to get down on some crab legs as it was crab legs nite which only comes once in every two blue moons. it was delicious. after dinner we come back to our sweet old fashioned igloo. this is where the dubble bubble comes in. first i would like to say that i still eat dubble bubble by the buckets and if we hadnt eaten it all already that bucket would not be in the picture. luckily before we all got into the igloo, which we had to slide on our bellies like newts to do, we realized that our igloo was made of ice and thusly sitting on it would freeze our little tushies off. so the dubble bubble was my seat. it broke as soon as i sat on it which sucked but by that time we were so relaxed it no longer mattered. now for those of you who have either never made an igloo or have never been in one at night let me tell you it is awesome. the whole thing glows blue from any lights outside. and it is almost like you have a light in there. this huge bubble of ice stayed well into spring because it insulates itself and while it may melt a little during the day it refreezes over night so after about three days we had a hunk of ice so thick that the janitors couldnt knock it down. now for the where is this. this is in hampden-sydney, virginia. it is where my college is located. the town is named after the school because the school was there before the town. they had to close because of the civil war. it is also an all mens school. which sucks. it is supposedly very prestigious and all but mostly it sucked and we got hammered. and finally for the shitty honda in the back ground. i think it must be one of the cleaning crews cars because everyone i knew had bmws and stuff. bunch of rich bastards. anyhow i know yall have been waiting on this so i figured it was about time. hope the story was enjoyable. this is mr sandford signing off. good nite folks

every damn time

this was just too funny not to put up. i will be telling an excellent story later of a young man who went to the frozen tundra called virginia and with a little help from his friends they built an igloo just in time to make it to the cafeteria for crab legs nite. it is a good story make sure you come back to read it later.

A nice little comic

Just thought yall might like this since i dont have any stories or high grade intellectual information to provide you fine readers.

Those G.D.I.'s

Lets start at the beginning, when we come to the end, we'll stop.
-Bubba Longrear (Reidsville) - Micheal Gay (Collins)
-Darth Vader (t.v.) - Tinnie Walls (Collins)
-Carl Chapman (Tifton) - John Jarriel (reidsville)
-Tift county 5-0 (Tifton - James Alexander (reidsville)
-Mrs. Clark (Glennville) - T.G. Oliver (Reidsville)
-Kendall Murray(Vidalia) - Eli Lively (Cobbtown)
-Jessica, the land lady (savannah) - Ashley Roberts (Glennville)
-Master Shredder (t.v.) - Jefferey Winningham (Tyson)
-Mr. Brown (Glennville) - Mindy Boatner (Tifton)
-Trey Robertson (Glennville) - Tom Cruise (t.v.)
-Mr. King (Glennville) - Ronald Reagan (dead)
-Stephen Ralston (savannah) - PeeWee (Tyson)

Lets get it straight-

Questions. Man my brain is littered with them. Sometimes it shit that don't even matter, other times i think i have discovered the meaning of life. It really all just depends. Today, i caught myself asking.... myself, all about the things i hope for in the future. Like, i want to start my own shoe line, but will i still be able to wear them even if i am an old fart? Then, that led to the very next question, will i still be fucking way past the age of 60? That one really made me think hard, (ha) and the sad part, i had no fuckin clue. 60, thats gonna be a hell of an age if i makes it that far. Then, the main deal, i want to be an author, but what if i'm too old to read my own dam work how in the hells is that shit gonna work? Then there's my granada, will it still be rollin on dubs once i get them on there? Will i still be able to gut a blunt then comply with it's refilling? Where will i retire? These questions and more rolling around over and over again in my noodle. Like rap, i hate this new bubble gum rap shit that you hear all over the radio, i hope that by the time i get up in age that in regressed back to that old skool funk, none of that synthesizer shit, just some of that bass and heavy treble. Making the bass the treble and visa versa. Just listen to some of that chopped and screwed remix of fast songs. I wonder if my brown powers of mysticism and funk will fade too. ( i truly hope not) The question that really boggled my mind was that if the immigration law is as strict as it is now, will it even be legal for me to be just half brown and in the united states? Then the question that irritated me, just for lack of not knowing more than anything; will we have finally legalized?!?!?!?!?!?!?! The joy it would bring man goddamn! Well that's it for now cowpolks. I gotta go hit a lick and then bounce back. N to the J over out without a doubt.

And you thought that other one was bad

This crazy bastard has this crazy blog. when you click the blue word you must notice two things. firstly, look at his picture very closely. then if you go to the bottom of the page you can see his blog. just a read a little bit of it. i promise you wont be disappointed. or maybe you will be and thats what he wants.

I Used to like liquor more

Back when i was more of a strapping young lad than i am now i had the audacity to say that i would never be a person who drank beers. sure i did my share of other things but never the beer and no pills. but sure as i am standing here today as soon as i got to college i unleashed a fury of beer drinking the likes of a small virginia town nestled in the hills had ever seen before. i quickly became that guy. i like to say the only foreign language i picked up in college that i still use is the drunken whisper. it all started out innocently enough. me and the boys were bored and we wanted to go and get some action. unfortunately for us we were in the village of farmville so that basically meant lets go over to the other college and yell rude things at the girls. if they liked what they heard we won. we got a lot of dirty looks but it did work more often than not. we liked to call it fishing for the longwoodies. then what we would do once we had a truck full of girls is we would bring them back to the frat that we all hung out at (there wasnt anywhere else to go to) and we would rig up the fooze ball table so we could play a now internationally known sport called beer pong. if your arent familiar with the game you need to get familairized. for those of you still with us we did this routine for the first few months. then came the glory we all knew and lusted for each year it came around. GREEK WEEK. this was the culmination of drinking on a campus already known for drinking. this was to be my first. the week started out easy enough-two power hours and dinner then 2 beer bong shots and another power hour( it was during this week that i lost my beer bonging ability) the next day was similar but with no classes at all thus the drinking began mighty early. then came the big day. actually it was night when the good stuff im about to impart unto you began. first we started with the hall crawl. each room had a different shot. i think i went tequila, rum, whiskey, rum, tequila, vodka. then onward ho. now we have some of that liquid courage in me i could drink anything. we continue on up the stairs to the liquor luge. this is basically a massive block of ice with a trench dug down the middle of it. then you put your mouth at one end and someone poors the cheapest liquor ever down the other side. by the time the shitty liquor has run over all the ice to get into your mouth you cant even tell what you are drinking anymore. so after a turn or two here it is time for the dance floor. at this point in the story the memories are no longer all mine. parts of them are mine but the majority my friends told me over the next few days. now normally i am not a dancer but if you put me in a room with hot chicks that like to rub there bodies on you while dancing and me with a head full of liquor i will dance with the ugliest girl in the room everytime. but i like to think it wasnt always the fugliest girl ever-interesting side note, you would be surprised just how many people dont know about the word or category of fugly, educate the masses people-but anyways after a few dances i got thirsty again. so i head to the bar, my drunken eyes are looking for thing that i like and that i know what it is. i see gatorade-good not alcoholic, rum-good, whiskey-good, sprite-ok but not awesome also not alcohol, and hawaiian punch-really good but no alcohol. smartly i ask for a mixed drink consisting of whiskey and rum. unsmartly they gave it to me. then another then another then one more i am told. after that i was only given mixers and was told it was liquor. why no one made me leave i dont know. maybe i was just that cool, maybe my drunken whispers were more like revelations and everyone was having epiphanys and i was in the middle of an epiphany storm(ill tell yall about when i was in one once another time) either way i was still there, or so i thought. moments later my eyes slowly open. i am in my room. i am alone. my roommate is in his bed. it is light out. my body is sore and my back really hurts. i reach around to my back and there is about a 6 inch cut from the top of my shoulder down. i feel like i am inside a giant cotton ball and i need to drink more water than the stupid ass water machine will pump out at once. i drink water and i drink forever. finally i am fulled satisfied. now come the questions- what the fuck happened) where did this big as scrap on my back come from? why are sticks and leaves all in my shoes. alright now this part is all from my friends telling me what happened and nothing from my own memory. apparently after i drank the first few whiskey and rums and i was being fed mixers i became a bit tired and a bit ornery. at first they decided to stop serving me but i wasnt having any of that so they held a cup full of just plain old water in front of my face and i, like a dog follow the drink outside. there they give it to me and let me sit down for a bit. then after about 20 minutes someone comes to check on me. only now i am out. i am talking asleep so bad that a train going by inches from my face wouldnt disturb my sweet baby dreams. but they had to get me home or at least of the where people would walk by. so rather than pick me up my friends drag my all the way back to the dorm. this is probably a good quarter mile and mostly through a trail in the woods. it was very unpleasant for them as well. i am tall and lanky and i catch on things on the ground. not to mention i am not the skinniest little daisy on the circuit. but all in all i learned a new respect for my tolerance to alcohol poisoning and i slowed down my hard liquor consumption considerably. now i just enjoy a nice 12 pack at night and i am good to go. alrighty then you yankees and hill billys take it easy and never ever drop the peasy.