backwoodsman
Full Member
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Not quite at the ends of the earth, but you can see it from here.
Posts: 107
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Post by backwoodsman on Apr 23, 2021 0:13:20 GMT
Is it just me or are the above posts all missing? Did you add any browser addons lately, particularly anything that would block Facebook? Many of the images in this thread are linked from Facebook, and an addon called Facebook Container was blocking them for me until I whitelisted this site.
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Post by snoozy on Apr 23, 2021 3:04:26 GMT
I also cannot see anything except random numbers.
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Post by snoozy on Apr 23, 2021 3:05:06 GMT
Ah. FB. I'll pass.
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Post by Melissa on Apr 24, 2021 16:44:16 GMT
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Post by grannyg on Apr 24, 2021 16:58:23 GMT
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Post by gayle on Apr 24, 2021 17:08:10 GMT
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Post by mogal on Apr 25, 2021 0:19:28 GMT
Me too but I'm pretty naive and gullible sometimes.
On two separate occasions, I've seen CHICKENS approach the body of a dead flockmate and make the strangest sound I've ever heard from them. What's worse, I've only heard that vocalization when they find another chicken dead.
The goats will do the same thing and it's worse when a doe has a stillborn kid.
One of my horses died in March of '82. For a full 6 weeks, the other horse would walk the perimeter of their paddock, put his head across the fence and make the longest, loudest, most plaintive whinnies I've ever heard. When he called like this, nearly his entire body shook.
So...it wouldn't surprise me one iota to learn that penguins manage to bury their dead.
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Post by grannyg on Apr 28, 2021 15:12:45 GMT
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momo
Junior Member
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Posts: 97
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Post by momo on May 3, 2021 13:41:32 GMT
Thanks for letting me know that Backwoodsman! I did put a Facebook blocker on a few months ago. This is the only site it seems to have affected.
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Post by grannyg on May 3, 2021 13:58:55 GMT
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Post by mogal on May 4, 2021 20:59:31 GMT
Was anybody aware that this is Star Wars Day?
Yes, it is.
May the Fourth be with you.
I won't take credit or responsibility for that bit of silliness so please don't throw anything at me. Be well.
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Post by grannyg on May 4, 2021 23:38:10 GMT
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Post by gayle on May 5, 2021 1:21:21 GMT
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Post by mogal on May 5, 2021 11:22:32 GMT
Our cats are pretty accepting of things but I really don't see any literally sitting still for this. Nope.
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Post by grannyg on May 5, 2021 16:00:16 GMT
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Post by grannyg on May 6, 2021 16:19:12 GMT
This cracked me up...they are called Scrotees...LOL LOL ![](https://scontent-dfw5-2.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.6435-9/p843x403/179147706_10221260956085732_413321471022544505_n.jpg?_nc_cat=102&ccb=1-3&_nc_sid=730e14&_nc_ohc=JoXxr0AsnZgAX_W5tsF&_nc_ht=scontent-dfw5-2.xx&tp=6&oh=27d2b7cc56519224c1c1839a7c6d164c&oe=60B94AFC)
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Post by gayle on May 6, 2021 16:39:39 GMT
I can't imagine a dog leaving that alone. ![:D](//storage.proboards.com/forum/images/smiley/grin.png)
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Post by Maura on May 6, 2021 16:41:46 GMT
Granny, I remember those being called Nueticals. So your dog won't be embarrassed about... you know.
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Post by mogal on May 6, 2021 17:57:19 GMT
Why? Am I unduly obtuse 'cause I just don't get it.
Nope, my dogs wouldn't leave it alone either.
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Post by grannyg on May 7, 2021 14:13:24 GMT
Can’t believe what I saw in McDonald’s today. An old man placed an order for one hamburger , French fries and a drink. He unwrapped the plain hamburger and carefully cut it in half , placing one half in front of his wife. He then carefully counted out the French fries , dividing them into two piles and neatly placed one pile in front of his wife. He took a sip of the drink , his wife took a sip and then set the cup down between them. As he began to eat his few bites of hamburger , the people around them were looking over and whispering. Obviously they were thinking , 'That poor old couple - all they can afford is one meal for the two of them.' As the man began to eat his fries a young man came to the table and politely offered to buy another meal for the old couple. The old man said , they were just fine - they were used to sharing everything.. People closer to the table noticed the little old lady hadn't eaten a bite. She sat there watching her husband eat and occasionally taking turns sipping the drink. Again , the young man came over and begged them to let him buy another meal for them. This time the old woman said 'No , thank you , we are used to sharing everything.' Finally , as the old man finished and was wiping his face neatly with the napkin , the young man again came over to the little old lady who had yet to eat a single bite of food and asked 'What is it you are waiting for?' She answered 'THE TEETH'.
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Post by Melissa on May 7, 2021 20:18:00 GMT
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Post by manygoatsnmore on May 9, 2021 22:09:04 GMT
Can’t believe what I saw in McDonald’s today. An old man placed an order for one hamburger , French fries and a drink. He unwrapped the plain hamburger and carefully cut it in half , placing one half in front of his wife. He then carefully counted out the French fries , dividing them into two piles and neatly placed one pile in front of his wife. He took a sip of the drink , his wife took a sip and then set the cup down between them. As he began to eat his few bites of hamburger , the people around them were looking over and whispering. Obviously they were thinking , 'That poor old couple - all they can afford is one meal for the two of them.' As the man began to eat his fries a young man came to the table and politely offered to buy another meal for the old couple. The old man said , they were just fine - they were used to sharing everything.. People closer to the table noticed the little old lady hadn't eaten a bite. She sat there watching her husband eat and occasionally taking turns sipping the drink. Again , the young man came over and begged them to let him buy another meal for them. This time the old woman said 'No , thank you , we are used to sharing everything.' Finally , as the old man finished and was wiping his face neatly with the napkin , the young man again came over to the little old lady who had yet to eat a single bite of food and asked 'What is it you are waiting for?' She answered 'THE TEETH'. Ok, I'm now officially grossed out...but I still laughed! 😊
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Post by mogal on May 10, 2021 2:44:40 GMT
Manygoatsnomore, wanna talk about gross? We used to know a guy who was active with Boy Scouts, went out to their big event in the southwest, whole nine yards. He mentioned once in a talk about camping that the Scouts sometimes only took one toothbrush for the entire troop to save WEIGHT. Honestly, a toothbrush doesn't weigh so much that I wouldn't be willing to carry my own, thank you very much. Nope, I don't share toothbrushes, hair brushes, lip balm, etc. The only person I kiss on the lips is my husband of nearly 47 years.
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Post by manygoatsnmore on May 10, 2021 4:53:05 GMT
Manygoatsnomore, wanna talk about gross? We used to know a guy who was active with Boy Scouts, went out to their big event in the southwest, whole nine yards. He mentioned once in a talk about camping that the Scouts sometimes only took one toothbrush for the entire troop to save WEIGHT. Honestly, a toothbrush doesn't weigh so much that I wouldn't be willing to carry my own, thank you very much. Nope, I don't share toothbrushes, hair brushes, lip balm, etc. The only person I kiss on the lips is my husband of nearly 47 years. Oh, blech! I wouldn't share a toothbrush with anyone! The human mouth is not a very clean place. 🤢
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Post by grannyg on May 10, 2021 13:53:36 GMT
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Post by manygoatsnmore on May 10, 2021 18:20:36 GMT
Now, that right there is FUNNY!
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Post by grannyg on May 11, 2021 2:00:36 GMT
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Post by mogal on May 11, 2021 2:33:36 GMT
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Post by manygoatsnmore on May 11, 2021 20:29:59 GMT
Aaaw, how cute! We have new chicks running around the place here right now...one of my favorite parts of country living. 😍
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Post by grannyg on May 12, 2021 2:10:02 GMT
This is hilarious! It'll take a minute to read but the laughs are worth it!! Brock Veterinary Clinic 12 April 2014 · Otis the type B fat fella Otis was a type-B fat guy. You know the kind I am talking about; he wears his pants below the belly. The type-A fat guy wears them above the belly, and those pants usually have a zipper that is about twenty inches long. Guys know what I speak of here. If you are ever at a football game, peeing at half time, and you hear a zip that lasts about two seconds next to you at the urinal, you can bet it is a coat unzipping or one of these fat guys with a twenty-inch zipper. At two days post graduation, I was not the surest diagnostician who ever lived. This was my first case, my first day of work, my first venture into actually being a real vet. I was driving to the ranch, going through the possible causes of the symptoms that the man had explained to me over the phone. Clarendon is at the mouth of the Palo Duro Canyon and is rough country. I was going over the fifth cattle guard after the sixth turn when I saw Otis at the foot of a steep cliff. I had never met him before. He was an overly thick man who always smoked a huge cigar and had the verbiage of a sailor. “Where is she?” I asked, only to see him point up. At the top of this fifteen-or-so-foot cliff was a small flat spot that the cow had collapsed and lain down on. We climbed up the side of this dry riverbed together, him huffing and puffing, and me wondering what the heck this cow could have wrong with her. When we arrived, I saw this huge Shorthorn cow lying on her side and paddling her legs. She had been paddling so long that she had dug trenches with her legs in the shape of triangles. I began to feel the sweat roll down my neck as I pondered what in the world could have caused this. Otis said, “What in the h---could be wrong with that big ol’ cow, young doctor?” I had no idea. I just needed to stall for a while and collect my thoughts. So I told him I had to get something out of the pickup and slid back down the bank to the truck to think about it for a second. I decided the best thing to do was to get some blood and see if some lab tests could help. With blood collection tubes in hand, I scurried back up the cliff to the side of the down cow and her big, fat owner. Much to my surprise, when I stuck the needle in the cow’s vein, the blood came back chocolate brown. Wow! They had taught me about this in veterinary school. Nitrate poisoning from grazing the milo patch across the creek. And guess what? I actually knew what to do. The trip down the cliff found me walking with a higher step and even a slight whistle. I picked up the antidote and once again scurried back up the cliff. Otis was impressed with my confidence and even smiled for a second. “So how long till she gets up after you give her this stuff?” he asked. To this question, I had no answer. The books don’t tell you that kind of information; they just tell you what to do to treat the problem. You see, this is why they call it the practice of medicine, and at this particular moment, I was working on my very first cow. There are some things you just learn as you go. So I just said the standard “I really don’t know” answer: “It varies from animal to animal.” I gave the bottle of medicine in the vein, and to my surprise, she hopped right up. In fact, she hopped up and looked pretty mad. She looked real mad. She looked at me, and then she looked at him, and I guess she decided that he looked easier to catch and softer to headbutt, because she went running at him with mean intention. I did the only thing that any valiant veterinarian could do in this situation: I ran down the hill and jumped into the back of my pickup. I thought Otis was right behind me, and the cow was right behind him, but he wasn’t. She had him on that little cliff, and she was whoopin’ him. At first I was amazed at his agility. For a fat guy, he was putting some moves on this cow. But only for a while. You see, at first she was still a little uncoordinated and stiff from being down so long. That took about three or four charges to get over, and then she had her youthful athleticism back. On the fourth pass, she got him. She rolled him like a rubber ball to the cliff’s edge, and then with one mighty shove, over he went. Good thing that dry creek bed sand is soft, because he landed on his shoulder, and I really think I saw his back bend backward so far that his head touched his fanny. “Are you okay?” I shouted from the safety of the truck bed. “S--- no!” he screamed back at me. “Well, you better get well quick,” I said, “because she is coming down that cliff with a bad look in her eyes!” With this, he jumped his three hundred–pound frame up out of the sand and started rushing toward me. It was hard to tell exactly, but it looked like the cow was going to get him before he got to the truck. I noticed that his stride was getting shorter as he approached me, but I wasn’t sure why. I screamed, “Run faster! She’s catching ya!” He was wide open and still hadn’t lost his cigar. As luck would have it, he got to me before she got to him, but he was too tired to jump into the truck, and I wasn’t strong enough to pull him in. Plus, in the heat of the chase, his normally crack-showing pants had slipped down to just above his knees, making it impossible for him to throw a leg up over the side of the truck. As I was reaching over him, trying to pull him in, I just grabbed anything I could get ahold of—which in this case turned out to by his giant size-52 boxers. So basically I was currently giving my very first client a semi–power wedgie. He looked at the cow and at me and then bent down to pull up his pants. This left only enough time to start running around the pickup to avoid getting rammed by the now-full-speed cow. Once again I was amazed at his speed. He managed to stay ahead of her as they made laps around the truck. Each time he would come by, I would offer him my hand and tell him to jump for it. But each time he thought she was too close, and he would back out at the last second to go on another lap. Finally, at the hood area of the pickup, on about the sixth lap, she caught him. His pants had come down again, and his stride was just too short to outrun her. He was taking about fifteen steps per yard there at the end trying to avoid her rush. But it was to no avail. He rolled up into a big ball, and she bounced him around and through everything in sight. I jumped out of the truck and did the best rodeo clown imitation that I could. She was determined to roll him awhile before she came after me. But as suddenly as she had come up from that dose of medicine, she just quit and strolled off. When I got to Otis, he was covered in stickers and cow doo-doo. His hat had been smushed flat. His shirt was torn in several places. His pants were down around his ankles, and his giant boxer shorts were full of dirt. He was cussing a blue streak, but he never lost his cigar, nor did it have any damage to it. I learned a lot that day. First thing is, if you are a type-B fat guy and work with cattle, you better have suspenders. Second thing is, when you got a cow down from nitrate poisoning, you better head for the truck right after you give it the antidote. Third thing is, I gave my first actual client a wedgie. I somehow knew that day that this was going to be a great career. I am convinced there are some things you just can’t learn in school.
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