You have got to be kidding me...

Sadly, I know your not.

Call in and report the dipshit you see littering!

I am constantly driving throughout The Natural State. It really pisses me off to no end when I see some MF'er throwing shit out of his/her car. I don't give a damn if its just a cigarette butt. Keep that shit in your gotdamn car! Throw it out on your own driveway when you get home, you piece of shit!
It's bad enough that I have to look at huge billboards blocking the beautiful Boston Mountains while driving up scenic I540 on my way to Fayetteville.

Arkansas is one of eight states with a toll-free number for reporting litter violations. Currently, about 1,000 signs are posted along Arkansas' interstates and highways reminding motorists of the toll-free number. So when you see litter fall, that's when you call … 1-866-811-1222. Pick up your cell phone and save this number in it. Use it when you see some douche throwing crap out the window.

Reporting littering in Arkansas is quick, simple, and anonymous. Motorists reporting a violation will be asked to provide the following:

Date when the littering occurred
Location at which littering occurred
Description of the vehicle, including the license number
Description of the item littered
Side of vehicle (driver or passenger) from which littering occurred
A letter will then be sent to the vehicle's owner informing him or her of the unlawful action and educating him or her about the consequences of littering in Arkansas.

Click on the title above to learn more.

I wish they would hunt them down and shoot them on site but I guess that won't happen. This is the best we've got right now and I'm gonna do it.

R.I.P. Cool Hand Luke

Paul Newman died of cancer last Friday at age 83. He was an icon of American film, founded a line of all-natural foods way before "Organic" was cool (and donated $250 million to charity in the process), and earned a spot on Nixon’s enemies list, a distinction he called “the highest single honor I’ve ever received.”
Known for his Oscar worthy roles in such movies as The Hustler, The Verdict, Nobodys Fool, The Color of Money (for which he did win an Oscar), and Floatys personal favorite movie OF ALL TIME, Cool Hand Luke.
The anti-hero to whom you felt a connection.
Blue eyes that could penetrate you right to your core. He was not just an actor but a man who served a great purpose in his life with his charities to aid children. He was given a fortune and used it to help those less fortunate and over the course of his lifetime raised over $250 million to serve his cause.
The world is a better place because of Paul Newman. He will be missed.

God bless The Onion.

Injured Player Gives Thumbs-Down While Being Carted Off Field

TGIMFF

"I only have one job."

"Oh, really? Floatydevice, what would that job be?"

"Work."

"Work?"

"That's right. Work."

"Where do you go to work?"

"At my job, where else?"

Palin wannabe's

The Moving Finger

If you haven't had the chance to peruse my linkages on the side of the page, now is the time to do so. First I would like to thank TMFW for adding me to his society of friends on his blog.
Sir, I am honored.
Check out his site for some great insight on politics, religion, love, life, and all the good goings on taking place in the Peoples Republic of Hillcrest.
Oddly enough, I have met this man in person and let me tell you....I thought the picture on his profile was a fake. It's not. He must come from some kind of aristocratic family who reigned over the Peoples Republic of Hillcrest back in the early 1900's.
I'm sure he drives an MG.
He reminds me of William Holden in his role as Frank in the 1973 film "Breezy" directed by Clint Eastwood. Either that guy or Higgins from Magnum P.I.


Just kidding. I have met the actual TMFW and he is a nice guy. Not the one in the picture above.
check it out. themovingfingerwrites.blogspot.com

Big Fish Friday.

Ok...this is the last installment of Big Fish Friday. It really is. Really.

Drill Baby Drill!

What the Fu.......?????? This is insane.

I was there mofo's.

It was March 20th, 1976 and believe me or not...I vaguely remember it.
Not a very vivid memory, actually kind of hazy. But a memory stored somewhere in the archives of my mind that i can pull out from time to time like a dusty old photo from a shoebox. I found this article printed below after "googling" the words "Johnny Cash Rison Arkansas performace." Ta Da! These are a couple of articles from local papers celebrating the day Cash came to that small town.
And I was there.
See, my parents taught school at that little town before I was born. They had a friend that was the football coach at Rison who called and invited us to come see them since Cash would be playing a show at HIS football field. Furthermore, his house was right next to the field and he would host several of Cash's entourage as well as some of Johnny's family members.
And I was there too.
My parents and I got to stand exit stage right and watch from the wings. Maybe it was because he was all dressed in black, an ominous figure to be sure... and for some reason, maybe his look itself, I remember this.

I want to thank my Mom and Dad for making this my very first concert experience.

Maybe that makes up for all those shitty hair bands I saw back in the late 80's-early 90's.

ED. NOTE: My grandmother taught school in Kingston back before my mother was born. This would have been in the 1930's. My mother has told me that they had discussions about what Cash children she taught at that time. She did remember teaching several Cash kids but never was sure if she had Johnny in class. She didn't rule it out either. I wish she was still here so I could ask her about those times.

Enjoy the nice little write up from the Johnny Cash Day Celebration at Rison and Kingston below:


Johnny Cash

Returns to Kingsland

1976

Johnny Cash an his Family Returned to Kingsland, Arkansas in 1976 as a Johnny Cash Day celebration. Here are two accounts of that special day.

****

Welcome Home, Johnny

By Paul Greensburg, The Commercial Press



At 8:45 yesterday morning, the traffic outside Rison, Ark., was backed up a quarter of a mile as uniformed officers gave directions. Down the road at Kingsland, a sign with paint so new it looked as though it would smear if touched read:



Welcome to Kingsland The Birthplace of Johnny Cash



Cars full of people streamed into the little town. Overhead, a squadron of four helicopters buzzed by. I've been down 79 South past Rison many a time, but it was never like this. A sign pointed the way to the Johnny Cash Special, where a crowd was gathering to admire the train, applaud the speeches and welcome the native son.



By 9:10, the Baptist minister was invoking. "Father, we thank you that you have withheld the rain till this hour..." The master of ceremonies told of the past glories of Kingsland, how it had once had three Hotels and people came from 40 miles around by wagon to trade, but "as the little farmer goes down, so does the little city . . .



THE WAITING seven-car special was a thing of beauty inside and out. That must have pleased the guest of honor, who has a thing for trains (Hey Porter.... That Orange Blossom Special... Casey Jones... I hear the train a-comin', it's rollin' roun' the bend .... ") The politicians were all on hand, the governor and the congressman and lieutenant governor and state senators and representatives and the chief justice and Frank Henslee who's running for secretary of state. They all seemed to be in Car 4. You could almost feel the pressure of egos inside when you opened the heavy railroad car door. David Pryor, being introduced to a year-old as "the governor of our state," smiled wanly in the midst of the crush and said he was afraid he was.



The arrival: Rison was unrecognizable, hidden behind all the people waving at the train, crowding Main Street. Empty store fronts had been boarded up, fire plugs painted red, white and blue. Almost obscured was a little sign in a grocery down by the tracks: "Business for Sale." There were more introductions and speeches. "Ol' Johnny made a pretty good talk," I heard a policeman describing it later. "once they let him talk."



IT WAS JOHNNY CASH the star, griming at his family, waving around the key to the city, who seemed more real than the introducers and announcers and press types and politicians, all playing supporting roles in the mob scene. Maybe that's why he's a star. He seemed intent on making this hi' dad's day, really. "And thank the Lord for holdin' off the rain," he added toward the end. And the parade began.

It ended at the football field, where the bandstand and banks of amplifiers had been set up on about the 10-yard line. It was a homecoming performance with the names of aunts and cousins interlaced with the introductions to songs. Johnny Cash had left here as a three-year-old; the home he really remembered was at Dyess, one of the Resettlement Administration's farm communities in the Thirties. But lots of Cashes stayed here - he seemed related to half the county. The homecoming was a celebration of common experience, like harvest times and the Flood of '37. ("Come pickin' time. . . How high's the water, Momma?. . .")The older, the more familiar the songs, the greater warmth they seemed to arouse.



IT WAS A celebration of the old days, of the Arkansas and South of the Thirties, the hard times, the Depression. It was a celebration of the strength that had endured ("These hands... hard-workin' hands...") and of the spirit that had prevailed. ("Were you there when they crucified my Lord ? . . . Were you there when the stone was rolled away?")

The crowd had come from all around to celebrate with him, but their reaction seemed muted, more respecting than sharing. Perhaps only because the people were scattered, some on the field, others in the bleachers, wandering in and out. Or maybe it was the clothes - the bright prints, fashionable go-togethers, leather jackets without a crinkle, Sahara Shrine tuxedoes, jeans unworn or Preworn. Old lined faces were infrequent; age was attired in leisure suits. The people had come in search of their roots, but they weren't dressed for digging. Like the sound coming from the stage, the emotion was amplified but a little artificial. It's hard to be personal with thousands of milling individuals. It was as though the old cohesiveness' had gone with the old, harder times.

JOHNNY CASH thanked the Lord for holding back the rain and the concert was over. It was time to head back down Main Street. There was one classic sight by the side of the street -a group of men playing dominoes. They were playing in the midst of sleek campers on a handsome card table with: dominos made of fine bone, or maybe plastic.

The hard times that shaped Johnny Cash, that give the man and his songs a palpable integrity - he wouldn't play "Welfare Cadillac" at the White House, remember? -were elsewhere yesterday, somewhere outside the admission gates. As Johnny Cash would recognize. If he's not a great singer, he is a great feeler. The overblown prose in his promotions doesn't do him simple justice.

WALKING BACK down toward the railroad tracks after the concert, one could look down the now empty rails, out past the England Feed & Equipment Co., and not see a soul. The crowds and the show had moved on. But down those tracks were still plenty of hard times, and different people testing themselves and their faith, and one day, in their own way, they too would sing of hardship and victory, and the circle will remain unbroken.

****



Johnny Cash Rides The Cotton Belt

by Nelle Phelan

Johnny Cash, springtime, and a one of-a-kind Southern Pacific/Cotton Belt train, "The Johnny Cash Bi-Centennial Special," arrived in Cleveland Co., Ark. all in one day - along with some 12,000 enthusiastic visitors.

The towns of Rison (pop. 1214) and Kingsland (pop. approx. 300) concluded their Pioneer Crafts festival March 20 with ceremonies and a parade to honor Cash, who was born at nearby Crossroads, Arkansas.

Neither town boasts a depot - ceromonies were held at rail crossings. When Gov. David Pryor, on hand to proclaim "Johnny Cash Day," dubbed the singer the state's "favorite native son," Cash smiled broadly and said, "Thank you very much, but maybe you'd better not let Glen Campbell hear you say that."



At Kingsland, Cash and his immediate family boarded "The Sunset," the private/business rail - car of Southern Pacific president, Benjamin Biaggini. Other relatives, state and local off~officials, and the press filled the remaining six cars for the nine mile trip to Rison. The red, white, and blue Spirit of '76 Engine #3197 glided the load of deadheads (non-paying passengers) over tracks welded smooth for the occasion, along the Saline River bottoms, through woodlands flecked with dogwood blooms.



"Everything's smaller than you remember it from childhood," commented Cash during the ride. Despite recent his-and-her bone breaking incidents during their Jamaican vacation, both John and June Cash appeared tanned and radiant. Even Cash's usual somber black attire looked festival with vivid red, white and blue embroidered eagles adorning the jacket.

With the Rison crossing signal still flashing red, Johnny along with his parents, June, and John Carter Cash, climbed into a handsome horse drawn buggy to lead the parade. An hour later the last float reached the football field at the end of Rison's six block main street, where the Cash troupe presented an outdoor concert.

Johnny sang his hits, assisted from time to time by June, whose father was once a mail clerk with the Southern Pacific. Son, John Carter exchanged a few quips with his father and then joined in on the spirituals with Helen and Anita Carter and Johnny's daughter Rosie.

There were no standing ovations- since most of the audience were obliged to stand throughout the show- but a brand new Johnny Cash song, "Ridin' The Cotton Belt Line," brought a tremendous reaction from the crowd.

After the reunion here the Cash family left for another clan gathering, this one in Dyess, Arkansas where the Cash family moved when Johnny was three years old - a town which also claims the singer as their own.