SNAGLEY snagley SNAGLEY or (TRI SNAG)

I decided to have an ask BO post.
I will field any questions asked if any.
I will answer all questions unless I have an exceptional reason not to.
I will not, of course, lie.
So if you have a question fire away.
Bo Snagley

Ok I had decided not to do any more cat posts, but people look at this. I saw this and almost fell off my chair. This cat looks like an advertisement for drug rehab. this is your cat this is your cat on drugs. Snagley out

Me and this cat feel about the same. The family came down for Easter. They always notice the crap that i need to do around the house that cost money. Hey you should put up an invisible dog fence. Hey you should purchase a gun safe. Hey you should buy 14 blocks of gold and bury them in the back yard. they think i am made of money. for the record i am made from pure dirt. Anyway me and this cat feel like whuping some butt so look out.

My friend Buck the feminist

My friend Buck was an excellent basketball player. He played a little college basketball. In high school he practiced all the time. I remember one time it was time for his team to practice and the girl’s basketball team was playing in the gym. The coach had them leave the gym and go out to the parking lot and practice using a hoop nailed to a telephone pole with no backboard. Buck was a ringleader in this and firmly believed that girls did not have any rights to the gym or its equipment. His belief was the girls should be on the sidelines cheering in short skirts. I remember it distinctly

Now lets jump ahead 20 years. Buck has married and has three girls, three beautiful, profoundly sweet daddy’s girls. One the oldest Stacey is a volleyball player. She shows some promise and could easily play on many colleges now. She is a sophomore in high school. She was playing volleyball in the gym at her high school the other day when the boys basketball team came in and told them they would have to leave the boys needed the gym.

Buck was in the stands. I saw it. It was phenomenal. At that very moment, and I should have taken pictures. My friend Buck became a militant feminist. Needless to say those boys did not play on that court that day. Lawsuit pending.

This is for you Buck

Here you go Chuck 

The last ride of Gladys Snagley

When I was 18 I was given a gift by my favorite uncle, a 1971, 4 door, Chevy Nova. The year was 1986. It had 52,000 miles. I named the car Gladys. It was the metallic pea green color; it had a 307 cubic inch engine with a 2-speed “power glide” transmission. As a relatively poor teenaged outdoorsman I was pretty happy. It was the Hunting and fishing car I had been wanting. I had pretty much used up all of the fishing and hunting spots within walking distance, and I looked ridiculous riding my bike down the road with a deer strapped to the front bumper, at 18 image is everything.

Gladys, in response to my enthusiasm on becoming a car owner, quit running. I had to replace all the belts, hoses, wires, plugs, points, condenser, rotor button, motor mounts, transmission mount, heater core, and all four tires. Since I was poor this only took about 2 months. I spent most of my time fixing this car.

I took this car to college it became known as the bald tire mobile. The natural state of my tires was that of thinly spaced bits of rubber surrounded with wire. Once I had 3 flat tires at the same time. I found that I could put 10 to 12 people inside of the car if necessary, which was often during my freshman year. For some reason the car did not make me very popular among women at that time in my life.

That car broke down so much I used to carry spare parts in the trunk. I carried a spare radiator hoses belts points and condenser. I was known by my ability to stop on the side of the road and change busted hoses and have the antifreeze and water in the trunk to finish the job.

The first time I took my now wife for a date in the car. I picked her up in the rain. I handed her a towel and told her she would have to be the defroster tonight, as the cars did not work. She was not elated. I told her also that the dog in the back seat usually sat up front and to try not to let him get up with us because he had mud on his feet from the rain. She stayed with me regardless of my lack of etiquette. The car did not.

Latter that year I was driving along and Gladys decided she had enough and died. The fact that all the oil leaked out probably had something to do with it. Alas I was forced to buy a reliable automobile. I have owned many vehicles since then but none with the character that one had.

Anybody have any good first car stories.

BO Snagley

I found this old pic from the days when Chuck and I were farming thought you would like to see it. I usually dont post pics of myself on the web but here it goes 

OK this one is true…... Really

When I was a kid I was in the Boy Scouts. I am now involved with my sons Cub Scout pack. When I was a scout we camped all the time. One of my favorite overnight trips was to a local state park Oak Mountain State Park. This was a long time ago when they let you backpack up into the mountains and spend the night. Now they rope you off to a small section that looks like a pasture. This story is about a dufas named Boesely, and his ineptitude at life in general.

Boesely was a skinny kid but tall for his age. He weighed less than 100 pounds and was at least 5’10” tall. He loved camping, but for the life of my I don’t know why. He always came home in much worse shape that when he left. He always ended up dirty and bleeding or chaffed.

On this particular trip we were going to backpack 4 miles up to Shackelford Gap and spend some time poking sticks in the fire, and telling stories, and cooking enough food for two dozen college students home for a weekend of serious eating. Boesely loved to fill his pack with miscellaneous B.S.. His pack must have weighed 140 pounds if it weighed an ounce.
He had included in his backpack
Extra pair of pants
Extra shirt
Extra pair of underwear
Extra pair of socks
Extra handkerchief
Toothbrush
Toothpaste
Soap
Deodorant
Washcloth
Towel
Air mattress
2 gallons of water
Axe
Machete
Pots
Pans
Etc. Etc. Etc
For a kid of 13 years this is a lot of useless B.S. no one changes clothes no one brushes their teeth or bathes. I don’t know what he was thinking with deodorant, the Scout Master used to say that he could find a scout lost in the woods with his eyes closed as long as his nose was working. He never used this stuff but it fulfilled an important function for him, it filled every pocket and compartment in his backpack.

His back would begin to sag the moment he put this pack on. After the first half-mile his feet would blister, his loins would be chaffed beyond function, and he would begin a moan that would shake the pine straw off the trees. Shut up Boesely we would say sympathetically.

We finally got to the campsite on the top of the mountain. Boesely setup his tent and inflate his air mattress and setup camp. He set his tent in a small drainage this is rule #1 do not setup your tent in a drainage area. We started playing capture the flag and general having a good time.

It began to rain that night hard. Boesely got into his tent and slept, the boy could sleep through a explosion at a hand grenade factory. Anyway the next morning he was nowhere to be found. The dufas had floated out of his tent and down the drainage about 30 yards away and was still asleep.

Ok no great punch line but I met up with this guy last night and we laughed about this. I told him I would write a story about it. HERE IT IS.

Snagley Out

Another cat picture i know all of you will like this one. The cat certainly looks happy about his situation. Snagley

Ok now i give you my credenza. in its normal state. Old Snagley is having a bad day today. I wont go into details except to say i realy need to go fishing. Well not trying to be one to complain. Have a good one. Snagley OUT 

Once again my stupid stories get no response so I give you my desk at work for you viewing pleasure. Notice the lack of mice and roaches as a sign office neatness. Well back to the grind. Snagley out 

Maurice Snagley
Maurice was a collector of nonsensical items. He lived to be 97 year old and collected everything from hubcaps to belly button lint. Remind me to show you my sweater sometime.
During the late 80 early 90s when recycling started becoming vogue, he almost suffered a breakdown thinking he would have to give up his aluminum can collection, he was not sure what he would do with that room in his house if he did as it was full of cans. His greatest collection came in the summer of 1936 at the age of 9 with the help of his cousin Sylvester Snagley. This collection almost brought about his untimely demise.

Sylvester and Maurice were slipping around the house one day and discovered that if they climbed up the rose trellis to the rain gutter then shinnied up the rain gutter to the roof there was an opening to the attic from the roof of Moe’s house. As 9 year olds are prone to doing they snooped into the attic and found the normal attic junk. Some old clothes assorted trunks, and then they noticed that if they tight roped the ceiling beams there was a sheet of plywood with several boxes. Sylvester was the first on there and found the boxes contained mason jars that were used for canning fruit and vegetables. All quart jars had lids. Moe started thinking, this is a dangerous activity for any Snagley, it usually means a disaster is in the making. Mo said, “Sylvester I think I have an idea of what we could do with these jars. We could start a collection. We could see how long it would take us to fill all 18-quart jars. Mo sat about filling one right then, as did Sylvester. It was filled less than ¼ full, which was not bad on short notice and empty bladder.

From that day on whenever nature called they would stop what they were doing and run to Moe’s house, climb the trellis, shinny the drainpipe, do the balancing act on the beams and contribute what they could. One day they were swimming at the local creek with the guys when Moe suddenly ran from the water headed home. The guys asked what is up with Moe he shouted I have to go to the bathroom. They were all confused this not being the standard practice among 9 year old kids when playing outdoors at the time, but Moe was a Snagley and no one really wanted to know what was going on in his mind. This continued during to the end of summer when Moe and Sylvester were topping off the next to last jar. Moe wondered how he could ask his mother for more quart jars without raising suspicion. Then Sylvester heard the sound of a ladder being put up on the side of the house. It was Moe’s father George. George was built like a fireplug and had a temper that was shorter than a Gnats hiccup. He got to the top of the ladder and said to Margaret his wife,” lord woman you left this attic door open again. It’s a wonder we don’t have opossums living in here.” Margaret was used to this and ignored him completely and made her way back inside to the kitchen to start supper.

George stuck his head into the dark attic and decided to look around. Moe and Sylvester who were more than acquainted with George’s temper, hid in the back of the attic under the cover of darkness. George was balancing his way to the plywood, He was shouting to Margaret that whatever she was storing in these quart jars was going to spoil simmering in this heat. He reached down and got a jar. He mumbled that it seemed to be some kind of juice. He open jar with to see what it was. This particular jar had been simmering since early spring when Moe and Sylvester made their first contribution to the esteemed collection. When he opened the jar tears immediately came to his eyes. He staggered back blinded and gagging overturning the plywood and crashing down through the sheetrock ceiling onto the floor of Margaret’s kitchen, followed by the entire summer work of Moe and Sylvester which came crashing down into a cloud of toxic fumes and a noxious showers.

Sylvester decided he was tired of playing with Moe and he thought it was about time to go home. Moe decided it was a good time to visit Sylvester’s family for a few weeks. Margaret and George had to move out into the barn for the night even after cleaning up the mess it was too stinky to stay in there. It took the rest of the summer before Moe was able to sit at the table for supper again, and it was not because of the smell.
Snagley out

The birthday party went well.
We had the entire immediate family fly in for a surprise party Friday night. We had not all been together in 5 years. My Mom turned 80 my father is 84. They were convinced that they would die without seeing all of their children together in one place again.

We decided to tell them about my sister flying in so that it would not be too large of a shock on my father. When we told them Friday morning he cried and shouted like a little boy. I have never seen him so excited. At the party my brothers were all there from out of town they were shocked to say the least. The next morning I was walking around the garden with my mom she said that if she knew turning 80 was so much fun she would have done it years ago.

The next day Mom Dad my brothers my sister and I took them out to eat at a ritzy restaurant. It was good and Mom and Dad had a great time, and there were no fights. We had another surprise party for Moms friends and extended family at their church and we needed to waste an hour. We went next door to a hardware store and checked out the dune buggies. I got a test ride around down town that was adrenalin pumping to say the least. We then took Mom to a sporting goods store to stall her; we were running out of ideas. Then we took her by her church under the guise of her showing it to us.

She was clueless and was shocked she had a wonderful time. Every time I see her now I shout “surprise” and she shoots me a mean look. I was glad we could give her a fun time. She is a great mom. All of the credit goes to my Wife and My niece. They put it together. My mom basically raised my niece; her father and mother are quite worthless. My mother is quite a woman. Oh well the good thing is no one yelled or screamed, no one started any fights. It was much better than I could have expected.Snagley out

Ok i have been realy busy lately so this is a cheater blog entry. i will have some post on Moms birthday party tomorrow. Any questions about the birthday party. I will field any asked.

My family is all coming in for my Mothers 80th birthday party. My wife and my neice are in charge of the deal. Bless them both. I am a basket case. I am looking as forward to this as an elective colon exam. If all of my family gets in one room at the same time, somebody is going to loose some teeth. My estranged sister is coming in from out of town. The Snagleys are a weird bunch. i have 3 brothers and a sister
1. D my oldest brother 20 years older than I pretty cool guy bad temper.
2. H my second oldest brother look in the dictionary next to anal retentive you will see his picture
3. C my third brother redneck and dumb a waste of good skin
4. BO Snagley
5. M my younger sister. oddest of the bunch we dont have time or space to go into her history.

we have invited 160 couples to this shin-dig,,, i am thinking about going fishing instead.
or maybe paying someone to hit me in the head and come out of the coma on monday.
well be thinking about the Snagleys this weekend
BO

I dont know where you people come up with this stuff. This should be the last of my Steroid cat pictures.However, I am expecting some from Jose Canseco any day.

My last fat cat pic brought great reviews. What about this cat. Mice beware.

My fellow blogsters I give you HAND

It seems that I get more comments from random pictures than stupid stories so I submit the bottom of my right shoe for critique. Note the absence of dog poop and chewing gum as a statement of my good hygene. It is a florsheim size 11 and I keep them relatively polished. I would much rather be wearing work boots but I am stuck in this office shouting orders. If you look closely there is probiblay a butt print somewhere on this shoe as I have kicked quite a few today. Thank goodness it is friday I am hurting. I have to move my kids swingset from our old house to our new house this weekend . I am looking as forward to it as an elective root canal. Wish me luck... Snagley  

Oh man!,, I forgot to get dressed this morning.  

Ok here you are by popular demand a photo of my nostrils.  

My second entry into the foot of the day club. This one is in a little better shape.

Wormy and Wiley have recovered from their experience with Eunice somewhat. After Wiley regained his eyesight and Wormy got out of the hospital they decided they needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of down town Snagleyville, and go fishing.

Wormy has a boat so he loaded it up with all the gear and off they went. They decided to go to Lake Martin about an hour and a half away. So after the drive they put the boat in the water and were enjoying a leisurely fishing trip. Wiley had caught several good-sized crappie and Wormy was drinking beer and eating beanie weenie, and generally enjoying the day. Then things start to go wrong.

Wiley saw a likely looking spot and began his cast, as he did he caught Wormy in the ear with the treble hook from his lure. Wormy tried to communicate to Wiley not to cast but it was too late and Wiley sunk the hook all the way into Wormy’s ear lobe. Wormy spewed beanie weenie all over Wiley and most of boat, and began a series of creative cursing that hung over the lake like a blue cloud. When wormy finally calmed down there he sat with his ear pierced by a fishing lure.

There is nothing that brings out the idiot in a person more that trying to get a fishhook out of another person. Wiley grabbed his pliers and offered to get it out for him but Wormy new better than that and said he was getting fond of it and for Wiley to go back to fishing. Wiley said he will go back to fishing as soon as he gets his lure back, it is the only one catching fish. Wormy tells him to forget it he is going to the doctor to have it removed. Wiley turns to go back to his seat and brushes up against Wormy and gets his sweatshirt caught on the treble hooks.

Now they are conjoined to one another on the lake, Wormy by the ear, and Wiley by the back of the shirt just above his belt. Wormy begins to makes allusions that Wiley’s parents were not married at the time of his conception and further slanders his lineage to not end. Wiley tries to take off his shirt but the hook has gone through his shirt and is hooked on his long underwear he manages to get his left arm stuck through the top of his shirt with his head, and cannot get it back in. There is no other choice; they have to try to drive the boat back to the dock.

They make it back to the dock but now they are faced with the dilemma of how to drive a truck and boat trailed to it while not removing half of Wormy’s ear. It ain’t pretty.
Wiley ends up driving in sort of a squat, and Wormy ends up with his head on the seat with Wiley’s butt inches above his head. Every bump Wiley bounces his butt on Wormy’s head.

To make matters worse not Wiley is saying that those last few cans of beanie weenie are ready to make a reappearance and if he doesn’t get to a bathroom soon it will be a bad day indeed. Wormy responds with a kind of moaning, warble that pealed the paint off of the inside of the truck, for Wormy is familiar with Wiley’s digestive system and knows of the impending vapors that accompany such reappearances.

They decide to stop at a service station. They get our of the car Wiley’ arm still stuck out the collar of his shirt and Wormy doing his best imitation of a butt kisser. The old men sitting on the porch of the service station recoil in disgust. Wiley ask where the nearest bathroom, bush or outhouse is. Wormy screams for wire cutters. Finally they are rescued and none the worse for wear. Wormy considers selling his boat and Wiley decides to switch from sweatshirts to cardigans.

Ok this is for chuck this is my random photo. A collection will be taken to purchase ol Snagley some new socks. Send only cash.