Chick In The Sticks

November 16, 2016 11:49pm Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 23 Comments


Satirical Snapshots bringing you whimsy on a Wednesday (still from across the pond)

Out yonder


I’m learning to live a normal and pleasant, Texas country lifestyle. City chick, out yonder amidst the small town folk, howling mad dogs, a very loud train that sounds like a bad harmonica player, chickens, roosters and trees with pecans falling from them. I think I’m the most relaxed I’ve ever been and that has absolutely nothing to do with my moonshine hangover.


There’s a beautiful hum in the Texan countryside: It’s not just the crickets, the hornets, the cacophony of migrating birds or the leaves falling like rain from the trees; there’s something more. A soothing vibration of background noise that comforts you like a blanket.


The simple rustic charm of the Texas Countryside.



The penis extension

And then out comes the man down the street with his leaf blower. Sometimes two. One in each hand. There you are, sitting on a sun bleached, porch deck, the glorious autumnal sun sparkling through the great trees, the sounds of southern accents bidding you a good morning from across the way and the aforementioned hullabaloo buzzing away and……the armed avenger arrives. Of course, it’s a Sunday so some toss pot has to come out with a deafening power tool.

EXPLAIN THE POINT OF LEAF BLOWING TO ME. I know, I’m going to blow all these leaves off my grass like a bossman. Yeah. Look at that. Twenty minutes later and still going. ANAL. Oh wait, I missed one. ROAAAAAR.

And then, as it does, the wind blows and guess what? They all come back. Leaf man nearly ejaculates in his pants when he sees this has happened. Time to lube up those machines again!

Mate, get a machine that sucks ’em up and go and get yourself a proper hobby. Aside from the anally retentive leaf blowing man, I’m having a rather pleasant vacation.

Wooly Bully


We know that I don’t like cows. I certainly don’t like bulls. However, I arrived at a farm to play at shooting again and they lived there. I am conquering so many fears there will be no stopping me soon. I even let a cow walk past me in the same field. Not that I had a choice, but nonetheless.


Look at them. See how they stare at you with menacing indifference?


Still, I had a gun, but was told that if I shot a cow it would cost me $2000! WHAT? How are cows so expensive? This makes me very anxious about eating McDonalds. How can they do burgers for a dollar if cows are this costly? What am I really eating?

Fried Pie is the answer


Forget Maccy D’s, there’s a new fast food kid on the block. Fried pie, my friends. It’s a bit like a soggy Cornish pasty. Mine was filled with cherry. Mmmmm. Total win. Just what you need to fill you up before you go and clean.


Through the barrel of a gun

“Guns need cleaning”
“Bullets are dirty”
“So, buy clean bullets.”


And so it was. My GOD, you could clean a gun forever and a day. It’s most annoying. Not to mention totally fiddly and an absolute hazard for maintaining a polished manicure. Inside, outside, solvent, oil, funny little brushes, snakes on sticks and a gazillion little cotton cloths. I could clean a house twice over much faster. I’m sure if you just sprayed your gun with Mr. Muscle from Asda you could get the job done ten times faster. What a laborious time sink. Someone needs to invent a self cleaning gun, just sayin’.

Blade Runner


Or, get yourself an easier weapon. This beauty was bought for me.


Knife of steel. Sharp, ferocious and now carried around in my pocket. I am now officially mean and cool, cowgirl.  I’m practising the art of flicking out the blade super fast so I can be in the next super villain film. I must remember not to do this in the pub in England, however tempted I might be. Be afraid, Blighty. I return with many skillz.



Leave a reply

Sounds like a nice, calm wind-up to your vacation.
You may have missed a nice thing or two…but
perhaps you’ll get around to it on your next trip.
Or not. Who knows (or cares)?

It’s a wonderful round up indeed.

Cleaning guns? Good job, Jules. However, I think that the dude should always clean his lady’s weapon while she eats fried pie with pretty nails. Especially if she has a knife.

If she’s gonna shoot it, she’s gonna clean it. Daddy won’t be there to hold her hand and do her job for her. What happens in an emergency situation and she’s alone? She’d better know how to correct a problem and keep the gun clean and in proper working order. Not doing so could end up with the wrong person dead. If you catch my drift.

Break Red: Quite. Princesses shouldn’t be cleaning guns, however I actually insisted on doing it. I thought it important to understand the workings of a gun and how to look after it properly. As Sol says, it’s important to be competent.

What can I say, leaf blowers are a right menace, unlike fried pies, Glocks and .38 Specials, which are awesome. #PorchLife

Well, Glocks are only awesome if you need a good paperweight. .38 Special, while not exactly *awesome* is ,at least adequate to the duty…as it proved for so many years. But why not take a step up to .357 Magnum in the same-sized gun (or go to a kimber K6s and gain a shot?) If a woman can handle 38 special, she should be able to go .357…and it would look so nice in her bewwts or her purse next to her lippy (and not a bit larger than her wuss .38). Of course, my lady carries a Compact .45ACP…but then, I’m old fashioned and she’s very good.


Awesome sauce all round, LSP. #VeryImPORCHant

“….the crickets, the hornets, the cacophony of migrating birds…. ”

So, are you learning that hornets are not as bad as you thought? That they are, in fact, rather gentle creatures/

Hornets are evil, Sol. I bash them with brooms or spray them with chemicals.

Evil is what you make it…as is cruel or careless.

Well, you seem to have cruel and careless mastered. Your relentless attack on me and fellow commenters is uncalled for, inappropriate and downright rude. Whilst this is a free commenting Blog, it is not a “forum” where one can harass people without due cause and I won’t accept it any longer. Play nice or jog on.

Well said, Jules. That’s been a long time coming.

And whom have I attacked? I have not attacked you or anyone else here. In fact, you agreed with my statement when I disagreed with break red. LSP likes Glocks. I disagree. I don,t like plastic guns. (And neither do certain military units) A .357 is only a step up from a .38 Special and most of the women I know have no problem with them. And my lady does, indeed, carry a compact .45ACP…and she’s very good with it. I’m old-fashioned because I got her away from some plastic gun in .40 and into carrying a real gun.
And I thought, from the sentence that you had changed your attitude toward hornets. I was wrong about that…but I still don’t find them evil. You do. OK. Makes no difference to me…which is hardly an attack on you…or even being rude.
If you have a problem with any of that, I suggest you email me and we’ll discuss it…or you can continue an unwarranted attack on me – out of the blue – and evade a discussion. Evasion would, I believe, be cowardice, and I don’t believe that you’re a coward.

OK. It would seem that I was wrong. You are, indeed, too much of a coward to discuss something privately…but I refuse to take a private argument public So that you’ll have some phony excuse to block me. I don’t actually care, but taking it public would involve exposing your lie and deceits and betrayal; and who you’ve been shacking up with for the past few weeks. See…you’d drag another person into it.
We can discuss this privately, or not at all. And I suppose you’ve chosen not at all…coward. At least we’ll know where to find you the next time you come to the States.

I’m glad you’re mastering your fear of bulls, Jules. I think you’ll look great in a matador’s costume when you venture south of the Border. And if any bandidos leer at you, you can tell ’em you’ve got the dirtiest gun south of the Rio Grande.

I’m getting closer and closer to fearless, Mr. Gorilla Bananas. I think dressed in a Matador costume might just get me there. I’m all for dressing up and acting the part. 🙂

Bulls cakes, I don’t think so!!!!

I know, right? Still, not so bad when you have a big gun on your hip, Cakes!

Fried pies are empanadas. That’s all. My goodness. More guns. That’s not very British of you. Make sure Blade Runner isn’t in your pocketbook when you check in at the airport. Seems you’ve settled in.

They are indeed, Exile but Fried Pie sounds so much better.
I think it is wise for me to master all sorts of dangerous weaponry so I am equipped to make informed decisions and opinions. Plus, I want to be one step ahead of my UK comrades. Sabrina Sterling lives.

if Beck ever leaf-blowered my lawn, i’d be excited in my pants:


Especially if he sang “I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me” *)

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