Greetings Somebody Slap Me February 22, 2013 From Uncle George and Whitlow Smoke School

Somebody slap me. Can’t be this happy. g to this Happy.  Thanks for coming. I baked you a cake and will email some to you. It is my favorite pineapple upside down. Somebody slap me. Can’t be this happy.

Somebody Slap Me watch John Anderson's video

I found a wife Miss Angie who’s got her own money.

She’s so good lookin that it ain’t funny.

She got herself a almost doctoring diploma.

First runner up for Miss Oklahoma Indiana       

Somebody slap me. Can’t be this happy.

Our business this past tax year is up by 10% . Somebody Slap Me.

K-pasa, How yawl are? Well I am doing better than I deserve, I garontee. If I knew I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself. I remember being 8 years old looking forward, it seemed like I would never grow up to be a cowboy or pitch for the Yankees. Looking back it seems like the twinkling of an eye. I may grow up someday. If I get lucky, that is. It is a wonder that I made it to 64 with all the dumb stooped things I did and am still doing. It all started back when I was 8 and hanging around with Tommy Platte. I remember the one time in my life when Tommy stuck a dip of Skoal snuff up my nose. Fortunately I ain’t never tired that again. Then there was the time he encouraged me to pee on the sparkplug of a running lawnmower. Then Tommy was successful at getting me to try it with an electric fence. Ain’t never do that again, neither. I guarantee Jack. Either one of them.

About the dumbest thing I ever did was climb into a deer stand in a tree with a loaded 30:06. Prop the rifle on a tree limb and low and behold,it falls to the ground 12 feet below, and lands butt first, goes off and shoots down the main board what holds the stand in the tree. Kerplunk, down I go right on top of the rifle. Unfortunately I have done this several times. Never learn. The last time the ground broke the trigger guard off the rifle and it stayed that way broken for 3 years. I finally replaced the stock this year after the gun went off while I was about to sight in the scope. I was leaning the gun on the fender of my picking up truck, when it goes off and blows a hole in the radiator. Anyone want to go hunting?

Superstition, now that is a good word. I learned superstition from my half Choctaw momma, Miss Johnnie who taught me that I should never let a black cat cross my path. She taught me to either spit in my hat and turn it around backwards or just to back up and make a U-turn. GPS has a fit whenever I do that. Miss Johnnie also taught me that you have to hold your feet up when you drive across a railroad track or you will lose your girlfriend. Perhaps this explains the 9 wives.

 

 

 

 

 

 

All of this proves one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt. God watches out for idiots. Why just the other day, I did a dumb thing. I walked out of the house without wearing my hard hat. Somewhere at that very second, a meteorite plummeted to earth over my head. The Lord saw to it that it missed me but at least a thousand miles. I was shocked and saddened by how many people were hurt when the sky was falling. Just glad it wasn’t me.

I was superstitious back in my little league baseball days. I was a pitcher for the Monroe Police team. We had real cotton uniforms with button down shirts. The uniform was red with green letters. I wore number 13. I wore the same socks for every game without washing them. They wore out after the 3rd year. The hole was all the way up my ankle. I continued to wear them although they looked rather stooped. “Stooped is stooped does.”  That is what Miss Johnnie always used to say. She sewed the socks into a rosin bag. In between batters, I would turn towards the outfield, hold the socks, and dream of pitching for the Yankees. I wrote a novel about it,  Blue Bayou Days, the summer of 61. The book never did make me rich. I give most of them away at smoke school. Since I wrote the book, we now have Blue Bayou Harley Davidson here in Monroe and I was in the paper they are thinking of calling the state Blue Bayou. All of this about an old Roy Orbison Song. Perhaps I should patent the name.

Yesterday I heard on NPR about Red Sox pitcher Curt Shilling was selling his bloody socks on auction and might get $100,000 for them. What would you pay for an old pair of worn out bloody socks. I could cut my toe and send you a pair. Who wants to open the bidding.

Lettuce see, what is new. We had to start 2 new smoke school locations last month due to your requests. One is near Thomasville Alabama and the other will be near Oxford Mississippi. We dropped the minimum number for a private smoke school down to 14.

Somebody slap me. Can’t be this happy.

The good Lord has really been good to us. Not too sure why. I sorta goofed up this afternoon. I had been working on the 30 gallon aquarium what ain’t got no fish because they were just too nasty. I got big rocks, maybe chunks of meteorites and crystal from Arkansas, along with fluorescent background wallpaper, Tweetybird, Potato Head, a dinosaur that was missed by the asteroid, and a real live mermaid all set up under a black light. It’s really groovy man, awesome, far out.

After that we put up the porch swing in the front yard, fed the new donkey named Maybelle, 6 ducks donated by the Duck Dynasty, 2 brown turkeys, 4 red hens, a peacock, and a partridge in a pear tree. I am waiting till spring to get 3 white turtle doves so I can do magic tricks by taking them out of my Stetson Hat. .

After all of that, don’t fall out of your chair, but I took Miss Angie to Church. I had about decided that I would let her go while I slept in the Sting Ray. I was falling asleep between red lights. We attended the 5 o’clock Mass at Jesus the Good Shepherd. As soon as the first singing was over and the Priest got up there I started drifting away. Headed for a dock on the Bay. His microphone was too low and my hearing aids would not pick him up so it reminded me of elevator music and I drifted away snoring to compete with the Priest. I slept through all of the exercise, stand up, sit down, kneel down, so forth. Miss Angie kept poking me in the ribs, but to no avail until I heard her say I have to leave to go eat. Her diabetes was kicking up so we made it to Captain D’s for fish and shrimp. Yawl be praying for her cause if something happens to her I will miss her,  be dead broke and in the insane ward in 2 months.

Somebody trust me

I'm a doctor

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Somebody slap me. Can’t be this happy.

Her daddy’s rich but he don’t let it show.

She likes to fish she’s got her own boat.

Somebody slap me. Can’t be this happy.

Miss Angie is sweeter than honey.

She pets my dawg Jack and she likes my buddies.

The kind of girl who ain’t afraid of nothing.

She is independent, she does all the plumbing.

Somebody slap me. Can’t be this happy.

We survived some nasty emails from Harley Davidson and we survived 7 official audits from Alabama DEQ in 4 months. I think You-Know- Who, Lord Baltimore, sicked em on us. The Lord promised me that what don’t kill me will make us stronger. It has all been a real blessing in disguise. These Alabama folks are really getting to know us and  I think they like us.They may even let us take over for their state school. That would be really nice. We are the best that ever was.  Miss Angie has made a great improvement in our quality control and quality assurance. Our passing rate has improved even more.  Our crews have really jelled together and we love smoke school better and we love traveling together and seeing all of you faithful loyal friends.

Somebody slap me. Can’t be this happy.

I guess the crime rate has to start falling because the crooks can’t get no ammunition. Everywhere I go is sold out. I have been to several guns shows and they are out of Ammo. Praise the Lord and pass the ammunition. I am curious to know what your thoughts are on gun control. I went to the gun show in Bossier City and they had no ammunition but I did find a dude with a shadow box full of antique post cards, jewelry, and pictures. I brought lots of junk from this fellow including a genuine living color autographed  picture of Jesus. I had to have that antique it must be 2,000 years old.

Music has always been an important part of my life. As you can tell from www.smokeschool.net that my favorite type is old outlaw country and western like Hank, Willy, and my look alike Waylon Jennings. I also enjoy my cousin Merle the Hagg. I really enjoy alternative music such as Cajun and Blue Grass. I have some old rock favorites like Neil Young and Arlo Guthrie. Neil and I go back to my US Air Force days back in 1970 when I was stationed just down the road from Ronald Reagan in Sacramento. I pulled several temporary duty trips to Orlando to body guard for Nixon and to Keflavik Iceland.  It always seemed like a blizzard at Keflavik with the snow blowing 60 mph sideways. You really had to bundle up to go outside. The clothes weighed 80 pounds. There wasn't much to do except go bowling, drink Guinness and shoot pool. I spend a lot of time in the top bunk of my dorm watching the venal record spin as Neal and I were 24 and so much more. Forgive me, I am just an old hippie and I don't know what I am a doing. I actually just sent Neal, Willy, and Merle a letter requesting them to accompany me on my buckett list before we kick the bucket.

Miss Johnnie never listened to the radio or watched the TV news. She said it was too depressing. She would rather go fishing or hunting or greet her many friends at her Junk Store Nu-2-U the country club of Caldwell Parish, where she knew everybody's name and they all had good credit. There was a catfish restaurant near Columbia called Cliff's. It was a small building built on stilts over a catfish pond. You could catch your own catfish and they would cook them or you could order your catfish already caught and cooked. One fine day we were out fishing there and some long haired hippie dudes came up and started fishing buy us. Miss Johnnie asked who they were because she knew everybody in Caldwell Parish and she had not seen these dudes before. They informed Miss Johnnie that they worked for Willy Nelson and they were looking for a place to have a picnic.  Miss Johnnie informed them that Cliff's pond was the perfect place for a picnic. Then she asked if Willy Nelson was that new logger from Shreveport.

Niel is still picking and singing. My favorite newer record is Angry World.

It is an Angry World but God is still in charge and everything will go as planned. It is an angry world for the businessman and the fisherman. But ain't no doubt things will go as planned. That is why I send you these emails, keep it on the lighter side. As for me, like Arlo Guthrie, I don't want a pickle. I just want to ride my motorcycle. I don't want a tickle. I just want to ride my motorcycle.

The sky was falling. Missed out house by a thousand miles of so. Funny how all the world could see the flaming entry and hear the crashing shockwaves. Sort of reminded me what the second coming of Crist may be like. The thing fell into a pond and it was the size of a school bus. I nearly got fired from a job once back when I was in college. Gus Patterson hired me to drive a school bus. Imagine that me driving a school bus. Imagine 30 screaming high school students screaming at the top of their lungs when I sort a turned the bus to sharply and turned the bus over in a deep drainage ditch. Not to worry they missed an hour of school and got a new bus and a new driver. Gus made me stop driving and gave me a job at the Southside High School, LTI, Louisiana Training Institute for delinquent boys. Daddy used to take me to football games there whenever I thought about getting out of line. Daddy was the umpire and I always sat by the time keeper. “Do you see any girls in the stadium? He asked. “You better straighten up and fly right or I will send you to Pineville.

Miss Angie and I were a little shocked by the Pope stepping down. We were also shocked by the lightening striking the Vatican and wondering how that guy got it on camera. What do you think? Was that lightening some sort of a sign? We need to be like the boy scouts and be prepared.

Oh my good lifelong friend Roger Claunch was on that Cruise Ship. Roger took his entire company on the sea cruise. Roger owns Knifeworks and engraves all of our pocket knives that we give away at smoke school Well that is about all I want to say about that Be well. Do good work, and stay on touch.

BE Well Do good work and Stay in touch.

It ain't over until the fat cat sings

smoke school stories and family stories

Visible Emissions

Schedule

Call us-

318-361-2355

Contact us email,snail,phone

Add me to Whitlow Smoke School Email List

Pictures Photo Album

Fees

Registration

Certification Status, When am I due?

Recipe Cajun Fried Catfish

Recipe for Quick good Gumbo

Smoke School

Schedule

About Us

About Our Training

What to bring

Outside Links

Purchase a Ringelmann smoke chart

Request a Brochure

Private Custom-made On-site Smoke Schools

Home Page

smoke school stories and family stories

Discounts for first time attendees

Notary Services

Visible Emissions

Refer a Friend to Smoke School

Frequently Asked Questions

Employment Opportunities

Blue Bayou Days- The Summer of 61/ a novel by Uncle George Whitlow

Music Download

EPA Method 9 Visible Emissions Form

Instructions for Method 9 form

Your Comments about this website or smoke school

What people say about Whitlow Schools

T-shirts, candy, and other merchandise- shopping.