Let’s Go To The Ranch, Y’all!
He is the Louis of your dreams…. a multi-century composite. Grande and Royale rolled into Magnificence.
The light in her trailer house flickers and buzzes. She is stoic and resigned to a simple routine of laundry and gameshows. But now and again, she chances to dream of a far away place where everything sparkles and shines and she is surrounded by beauty. The stars in the heaven beckon her glance and she sings a lullaby of her own creation. We should all be so lucky.
Walton Mountain Wishes. She desperately wanted to be a Walton. She could slide right in there… maybe right above Elizabeth. She’d sit on the porch with Grandpa and run down the the Godsey’s store and buy something on credit. By the time she got back, they’d realize she wasn’t a real Walton but this was ok because now she could marry John Boy.
Muy Peligroso. He is the best mechanic to ever travel with the Mott Brother’s Carnival. They picked him up hitch hiking outside of Sacramento — fresh off a 10 year stint in the State Pen. He is prone to outbursts and restlessness when the weather gets warm. Keep the ice cubes handy.
Shame. Shame. Shame. She prays for your soul. One time you confronted her about that Indian Burn she put on your forearm…. when you were talking during Mass. She said you were lying and would likely rot in hell.
He owned a radiator shop with his brother Frederick. On any given day of the week, you could see them sitting in lawn chairs in front of the shop, reading the paper and smoking cigars. Sometimes they would fire up the BBQ, right there on the shop lot. Hot links and peppers …. smoke wafting down the street. Radiator repair by day and card games at night.
He will take you down. All the way down. All the way to Clown Town.
He was the biggest draw for Mott’s Brothers Carnival for a decade running. His heart was fragile…. like a kitten trying to cross a busy highway. He fell in love too quickly …. with passers by and ladies who came to see life under the big tent. His love was large and unrequited. Time and loneliness wore on him and made him bitter. He took to drink and drugs, often sneaking out after the show to hang with hobos and tramps at the underpass on the highway. He called it Clown Town.
“ …. In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of ev'ry glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains, mmm mmm ….”
Touch my monkey. Do it.
Her Name Was Lola.
Grid Iron Antique: David Johnson 1937. Handsome Quarterback... a best pal of the fellows and a favorite of the ladies. He became a decorated soldier in WWII. Returned home from the War and sold insurance for the next 40 years. Never spoke of the war and always changed the subject when it came up.
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Kerry Flanagan - 21st Century Irish Traveller ☘️🍀(known in common parlance as a White Gypsy) and granddaughter of BKB (BareKnuckle Boxing) Champion Mickey Reardon. Like her grandfather, Kerry has a passion for fighting. She’s earned blackbelts in Jiu-Jitsu and Karate. Unlike her grandfather, Kerry does not fight competitively or for money. She makes her living outside the ring. Kerry controls all the Traveller gang activity in West Dublin, which includes transporting and selling drugs for the Irish Mob, fencing goods through underground street trade, bookmaking, and loan sharking. It’s an unusual role for a female. But no one questions her bona fides. She’s operated with impunity from police for nearly two decades. Never even been brought in for questioning. Some say she’s got a Guardian Angel. Others say she’s just lucky. ☘️🍀☘️🍀☘️🍀☘️🍀. .
Light and Shadow. Blue and Black. …. he travelled for days to the village by the sea to deliver a message of secrecy and delight.
She was a Sweetheart of the Rodeo — National Grand Champion Barrel Racer for the better part of o decade from Houston Livestock to Pendleton. She also competed in saddle bronc riding and steer roping, claiming prizes and championships in both on several occasions. She retired from professional competition in 1967 and devoted herself to ranching and horse breeding on her family’s ranch in Chapel Hill, Texas. She never married.