Post Birthday summary

I got tickets to see Dierks Bently on May 17th. A bunch of cash and my ultimate favorite: Hank jr. bottle opener key chain, Heck yes! I hate to report, not only is my brother not getting me Hank tickets but he declined my offer to go to the Dierks concert, so looks like my birthday does not really matter to him. My best freind got me a pair of montana silvermith brown cross earrings which I love. I got a new headstall and roping breast collar so appropriately punched and painted with the word "Southern Thunder." I love how everyone I showed it to said that I had to get a horse first. Not only does this highly anger me but it also took their attention off the crafted leather pieces. There are lots of people who let me ride their horse and its expected to have your own tack. Now I just have to decide what I'm going to do with all the cash I got. There is just too many things that I want. I'm thinking clothes though because mine are either worn out, outdated, or are too big. Either way, rest good knowing it will be spent well.

The way I see it

Miley Cyrus on American Idol:

You can pound a $3,000 grand piano, with smoke all around your feet, and your fake eyelashes batting with the beat. You can make movies and try to be what your one -hit wonder Daddy never was. You can send nudes to every guy in the world and get as many as rewards that suit ya. You can act country or try to be whatever it is you think you are. You can try to be role model to youngens who watch "Hannah Montana." You can be on the cover of every magazine in the rack in the grocery store or write a dagum book. You can try to act like your just a normal person and you relate to the rest of us, but at the end of the day.....you still suck.

All my rowdy friends are coming over tonight

I don't know where I would be without those rowdy friends of mine. I could sit here and act like the whole world lets me down because sometimes that's how I feel sometimes but the truth is I got good friends who understand me and don't make fun of my twang. They know where I am from and why I do what I do. It just hit me today that life does really suck sometimes but the good times are yet to come I just got to get out of this hole I'm in, at any rate, I ain't got it all that bad. We can herd cows on our horses and sit around picking guitars or rock out at concert or cry on each others shoulders. Without judgement. They know my weaknesses, my flaws, and they know why I do. I just hope one day your lucky enough to find strong people, strong people like those rowdy friends of mine.

Life Plan

1. Enjoy the last summer with my Friends in Pa.
2. Go to college in Wyoming for 4 years and explore rodeo career.
3. Work on a ranch for 2 years after college
4. Move down south and pursue music career.
5. Marry a cowboy or a sweet southern man (which ever comes first)
6. Live on farm or ranch either across the Mississippi or beneath the Mason-Dixon line.

Its hard to tell what life is going to throw at me but I aspire to achieve most of these highlights in my life.

Dear American Idol

I want to thank you for showing me in a most precise manner that America has no talent at all.
thank you bunches!

Are the good times really over for good?

Things just aint what they use to be. It use to be that everybody hung out without alcohol or drugs. We use to sit around at the barn or at someones garage and shoot the breeze and do stupid things like set our arms on fire with hairspray. Before everybody could drive and we would walk everywhere. Before everybody got boyfriends and girlfriends and didn't have time to hang out with you. Before everybody grew up and got jobs or were worrying about college applications. What happened to those times? What happened to everybody? Its a very sad and depressing thing to say but those times are gone and I wonder if they will ever be back. Will anything ever be the same? If your one of those people who miss the old days when people had time for you and when they said something they meant it, comment this post. It would be nice to know I'm not the only one who feels this way. So much for growing up...
This feeling reminds me of the Merle Haggard song "Are the good times really over for good." Performed and written by Merle Haggard:

Wish a buck was still silver.

It was back when the country was strong.

Back before Elvis; before the Vietnam war came along.

Before The Beatles and "Yesterday",When a man could still work, and still would.

Is the best of the free life behind us now?

Are the good times really over for good?

Are we rolling down hill like a snowball headed for hell?

With no kind of chance for the Flag or the Liberty bell.

Wish a Ford and a Chevy,Could still last ten years, like they should.

Is the best of the free life behind us now?

Are the good times really over for good?

I wish coke was still cola, And a joint was a bad place to be.

And it was back before Nixon lied to us all on TV.

Before microwave ovens, When a girl still cooked and still would.

Is the best of the free life behind us now?

Are the good times really over for good?

I think that sums up the shape the country and my life is in.

http://www.wivb.com/dpp/news/crime/Animals-removed-from-filthy-conditions

Over 70 horses seized from Farm.

What I want to know is how this lady fit 73 horses in one tiny barn.

Who do you think you are?

There seems to be a reoccurring appearance of people in my life who think that they can tell me what to do and how to do it. I've learned over the years to act stupid around certain people because it gets you farther in that relationship. But let me give those people a wake up call: I aint the least bit stupid and if you think your teaching me something, you got another thing coming. Who do you think you are, that you have a place in my life to put me down or try to control me? Unless your my mother or my Dad you have no right to do so. I find it incredibly ironic that these same people who say that they act this way because they care about me and are so much wiser, are the exact people who would stab me in the back in a blink of an eye. They protest that my age being soooo young they assume I don't know anything. If I ever unleashed all the things I do know on them their head would be spinning. I find it humerous they believe my stupidty act and try to "help" me. But I dont need them or their so-called advice. And if by taking their advice means that they think I should live like them, I'll give them a clue on where to stick that advice.

Dear Brother

All I want for my birthday is for my brother to take me to a Hank Jr. concert. Is that so much to ask for? Your 10 years older than me and the only thing we have in common besides a few chromosomes is our love for Bocephus. I just want to stand next to ya and sway to Whiskey bent and Hell bound. It wont kill ya for one night to hangout with your little sister, one night for you would mean the world to me and give me an experience that I will never forget. I'm going off to college in a matter of couple of months please, just swallow your pride and get me a dagum ticket!!

Dear Mrs. Love,
Do you have any horse tack you could sell me. Better yet, I will let you ride my pony and throw in a free Joe Bonson and Coffee Run tee-shirt if you give me a breast collar. Take it or leave it.

18th Resolution

I'm making a birthday resolution. The past two years I have been digging a hole of regret, despair and depression. But with my upcoming 18th birthday I have decided to face the world head on and get back to basics. No matter what I decide to do after graduation I will, without a doubt, succeed and be happy. I am pushing the people who put me down and cause me to question myself out of my life, and letting the people who understand where I come from in. I'm going to relax more, push less, enjoy my young years. I'm going to worry less about what people think and more about what I think. After all, in the end I am the only who has to live with what I have done (or haven't done) with my life. I'm going to sing more, go fishing with my friends, and enjoy the outdoors and simple things in life. The Dr. prescribed several ocassions of these activities will get me back to my old self before I know it.

Out of town

I was driving through Lewistown tonight and I saw these people walking down the street with baby strollers and smoking cigarettes with so many tattoos on their body I couldn't tell if they were human or if I was looking at graffiti on the a wall. I thought to myself I got to get out of this town.

I got to get out of this town
Before it brings me down
I got to run away from all the trouble I found
I wanna see the sunrise without seeing a house
Before I die I got to get out of this town.

So I wrote that little number, in a real country style ballad hoping it would just explain the need I feel to get out before I go insane. The longer I stay the deeper I sink into all the losers and people who roam around and I will be shot before I ever stay around here.

By George

Dear George Jones,
I'd like to start out by saying I'm a huge fan. And I am sure glad to hear you got cleaned up after the lawn mower incident and all the wife's you went through. But can I just tell the honest truth? You were better when you were drinking. Your honky-tonk ballads hit me square in the heart and it just seems the more sobered up you got the worse the songs got. Don't take offense I beg ya, but maybe it wouldn't hurt ya to throw one back every now and then. Your still number one in my book, don't get me wrong, but maybe a a shot of the good stuff could launch your career into a second faze of stardom. Thank ya much.

P.S.-- Ya need any songs give me a call

Two voices equals one

Loretta Lynn and Conway Twitty, Johnny Cash and June Carter, Dolly Parton and Porter Wagner. Now that was chemistry. That was something to get wound up about. The strength in their songs and heart can not be recreated. Why cant I find me self some chemistry like that? Add two voices and create on great sound? Waylon Jennings and Jessi Colter or George Jones and Tammy Wynettee, they had that sound and comforting songs and I just cant help but be jealous. If I ever find that someone that does something for my heart as well as music, I'll be doing alright.

Dip of the Day

"Excuse me, ma'am, how long have you been working here?"
"Well I asked for Barb-b-Que sauce with my nuggets."
What don't look at me like that. Just because I cant have my chicken bits going down without an accompanist doesn't mean you have to look down on me. So what if I love every kind of sauce you have? Or I have a type of dip with every food I eat. Is that a crime? Life is like a meal with several different kinds of dips. You have your meat or main course of your meal and whether the sauce be sweet or sour it goes along in either helping or hindering your digestion of the day. You could be having a terrible day everything goes wrong but maybe someone gives you a compliment or you make a smart choice that results in you being proud of yourself, that's your little dip that truly makes the "meal". So next time you have a choice, or if someone asks "Do you want any sauce with that?" Embrace the flavor and add a dip to your day.

A man who I have had one of the greatest, worst and peculiar relationships with once said

"Its hard to exactly call you a cowgirl, but you are definitely a country girl and that's close enough."

What Buckle are you?

The unique style and personality is displayed various ways. However most of the people I come encounter with are wearing their personality on their belt. Either in the form of silver, gold or pewter. This symbol is the Belt Buckle. You can learn a great deal about someone by looking at their buckle. For instance some have their name

Or maybe what someone does for a living:

Or what Country their from:

Along with personal pride and interest being displayed on one's mid section my personal favorite part about the judgment passed upon those who wear them, is the simple fact that I can tell by someones belt buckle if they are really what they display to be or posing. For example I might see a "cowboy" walking on just any ol' day and if I see a buckle like this:

I know without a doubt they have never rode a horse or a bull for that matter in their entire life. How can I make such an assumption? The buckle is made to look like a genuine Montana Silversmith Buckle, but however is of cheap quality and rather unattractive arrangement. But I I see a buckle of this caliber:

I know that the so called cowboy is indeed a cowboy not only is this $200 Custom Montana Silversmith buckle have a lifetime guarantee, its also has a brand of ranch and location. This boy knows what hes doing! Same goes for a trophy buckles. If someone displays a trophy buckle with their name and title and perhaps location anyone can see that it is the proof they are legit.
So what kind of buckle are you? Are you cheap but proud of it? Or do you work to earn your trophy around you waist? Comment and tell me!

Go Goat Go!

Watching Rodeo with Mac Davis. Goat tying comes on, the cowgirl gets off her horse and ties the goat with a amazing 15 second run and Mac says "AWWWW.....let the little cute goat go!" Consequently, I turn the channel.

Running of the Bulls in Houston

For news story:
http://www.click2houston.com/news/22777613/detail.html

People are going crazy with this story. As for the visitors that were there and witnessed the stray bull running through the parking lot of the Houston Rodeo they were quick to be scared but even quicker to criticize rodeo officials and those involved. Attending a rodeo as a spectator is different then attending a football or basketball game. This is a real life and death sport. I understand that these people were terrified when they saw a loose 2,000 pounds of muscle and hate running towards them, but maybe y'all got a little taste of what real cowboys and cowgirls go through. That's their life and even more they risked theirs to save yours. One of the cowboys caught the bull on horseback with a lariat and lassoed the bull. This in itself is highly dangerous. A horse that weighs maybe 1,200 pounds dragging a 2,000 pound animal by rope. That bull could have shook his head and brought that horses on his ribs within a quick moment. I tip my hat to the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo cowboys and cowgirl. Y'all know what your doing and you showed the wisdom and courage inside the arena as well as outside. To guests this might have seemed like the amazing race in Pamplona. As for the people disgusted at such a mistake, that could happen at anytime, show some appreciation. If you could do rodeo you'd be out there doing it, as such don't run down the mishaps and efforts of those who participate until you've walked a mile in their boots.

Wild Horses

For news story
http://www.9news.com/news/article.aspx?storyid=134170&catid=339

Its ironic that people will spend anywhere from $300-$20,000 on horses, depending on discipline and blood lines yet there are thousands of wild horses roaming in Wyoming and Colorado territory. It reminds me of the Garth Brooks song perfectly titled "Wild Horses." Although that song is about a cowboy who cant stop rodeoing and makes a promise to his wife he would quit but wild horses keeps dragging him away, its the theme song for this story. If only I could catch one and break it. But wild horses are never fully broke. They always have a streak of freedom. But now the Land Management Staff wants to remove the horses because they are becoming a problem around small western towns. I strongly disagree with this proposal. The horses belong there, that's their territory not ours. Its no different when the settlers took over the Indian Territory in the 1800's. It belonged to them but yet we were the ones inconvenienced when they lived upon on it. However it is a comfort to know that the west is still wild and owner less horses roam the plains and mountains just like they did a hundred years ago.

Pride and Prejudice:

Whats with all this propriety? Between Elizabeth's wild sister Lydia and Mr. Darcy being backward I cant stand it, we all know they get together in the end. Lets look at the situation from this point of view. Lizzy is just a down home country girl who ain't afraid to speak her mind and Darcy is a shy down -homeboy that's smarter than he looks. Yeah hes got a better double wide than Lizzy's family but she don't care, she wants a man whose gonna treat her right. So they see each other a couple times at the local gas station and barn parties but every time they talk they get mad at each other and nothing ever happens. Not to mention the trashy biker dude, Wickham, who keeps trying to pick up Lizzy. Well of course, hes got a nice Harley and jet-black Elvis -like hair but all that glitter don't mean nothing, underneath, hes using her. She needs that bare-foot country boy, Mr. Darcy. She gets hit on by her cousin and the biker dude takes off with her wild sister. Then one day Lizzy is walking through Darcy's back yard and finally they meet up and get hitched. Why cant the book be like that? It would be alot shorter. Happy ending. Southern Pride, No Prejudice.

Bug Blues

I lived in a tipi for two weeks with a bunch of Cheyenne indian kids in Montana. I did that two years in row. The first night of my first year I couldnt sleep because of all the ticks and creepie crawlies --now I'm country but even that "bugged" me. So I wrote this little thing while I was laying in the dark.
I cant close my eyes
Even though its late
Because of the fear of being ate
by that big brown spider crawling on Tonya's cheek
It keeps crawling on my face and I cant help but squeak.

I wish I could live a bugless life
Without all the worries, troubles and strife.
But I'll keep on itching though its hard to bare
Feeling like theres spiders in my underwear.
And the black chiggers get lonesome at night
So they come to the tent to make themselves feel alright.
You would think because its 30 degrees
All the bugs would stay nestled up in the trees.

But no they keep crawling without any rest
and scurry to make their buggy nests.
I can hear them now as they gather along
To scream and yell a battle cry song
They gather in stations and make straight lines
and march all together keeping the time
And one yells "Charge!" they begin to attack
And that's whats crawling all over my back.

Heres your sign

I just hate stupid people.
They should have to wear signs that just say I'm stupid.
That way you wouldn't rely on them, would you?
You wouldn't ask them anything. It would be like, "Excuse me...oops,
never mind"
"I didn't see your sign."

A couple of months ago I went fishing with a buddy of mine, we pulled
his boat
into the dock, I lifted up this big 'ol stringer of bass this idiot on
the dock
goes, "Hey, yall catch all them fish?"
Nope.
"Talked 'em into giving up."
"Here's your sign."

I was watching one of those animal shows on the Discovery Channel,
there was a guy inventing a shark bite suit. There's only one way to test that.
"Alright Jimmy, you got that shark suit on, it looks good... They want
you to jump into this pool of sharks, and you tell us if it hurts when they bite
you."

"Well allright....hold my sign, I don't wanna loose it"
See...
If he'd been wearing his sign, I could have stopped him.

I love this comic routine by Bill Engvall because its so true:
I was in the barn milking. This amish guy I work with, walks into the barn, and says
"Hey dont forget to treat that black and white one."
"THEY'RE COWS!"
Heres your sign...

The Best drug

I aint smoking anything. No needles or substance but I am high as I could be. I'm listening to good ol country music and I could not feel better. Call me crazy, and maybe there are people out there that feel the same, but I get a buzz off a hard core country ballad. It sends chills up and down my spine and takes me to a world above the world we know. I cant explain it but ever since I was old enough to be able to hear and understand a good country song I have had this feeling. I imagine singing it myself an touching peoples soul. Wether I'm playing it on guitar or just hearing it on the radio I get this way. It does something for my inner being that takes all troubles away and heals all hurt. Maybe that's why its always been more to me than just music. Its my life; its my drug. I will never forget, my Dad said one time at one of his shows "I believe God has a corner in heaven for country singers like me." I remember thinking I hope so because because I cant live without it. Who I am and what I do is a product of how I was raised and the fact the country is in my blood. I understand there's people out there who think what I am is stupid but that's because they don't understand. Its in my veins its running through. My grandfather writes country songs and my Dad taught himself how to play guitar when he was 15. I write songs and play guitar; its a family tradition. My Dad knew since he was my age and even younger singing was what he was born to do. If he don't get the chance I sure will. After High School, I planned on going to college in Wyoming or Montana but at the same time I know I belong in Tennessee. Either way I am leaving this town, and I ain't coming back until I become what I was born to be. A country singer. If that means I might not ever see Mifflin County again then so be it but my life will be poured into what I love and what I have to do to. That is the best drug there is.

To Mr. Worthless:

Its kind of funny how there came a time in my life when I would bend over backwards for people, a particular person specifically, and then before you know it that person you spent the most time with and became your best Friend now wont even take the time to have a decent conversation with you. You could feel sad, maybe a little bittersweet, but then you come to the realization, they never really were what you thought they were so you grieve over what you thought it was or what you wish it was. You get off your knees, crawl out of bed and a light bulb goes on; why am I feeling like this? my self worth rested in that persons hands? Not Hardly. This post is for a not so special someone who will never read this but sending it out to the void takes a tremendous weight off my shoulders. I just want to say-- You never did and never will know the real me and that's just too bad for you. I got my whole life to be whatever the heck I please but being nice to you or even being your Friend is not one of those things and I am so glad I have no obligation to be anything close to civil around you. Ahhhhh.... I feel better.

To Gibson:

I love your instruments especially your signature Dove Guitars but $12,000 for a banjo? Really, thats more than my car. Is every note plucked really worth it? If I'm going to pay $12,000 for a banjo it better be signed by Stringbean himself. (Stringbean- Comedian and amazing banjo player, toured with Bill Monroe before tragically being murdered) I love a good banjo tune but the neck, bridge and strings would have to be made of gold for it to be that expensive. Dagum, no wonder its a dying instrument that no one plays, they cant afford it!