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Sittin' on the front porch.in the thunderstorm

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So I went out today and got home in time for the afternoon thunderstorm. About the time the storm started, I dragged the cheapo plastic table and one of the chairs under the porch roof. Since I was wearing camo shorts and a beautiful OD green patriotic T-shirt, I wasn't too worried about the grungy green chair staining my clothing.

The Beagle was happy to stay with me in the storm. Hey...he's a beagle. The Chihuahusund was OK with it as long as he could be in my lap. The Poodle was happy under my computer. He's the puppy mill "Bichon" breeder that had to stay out in all sorts of weather. He hates lightening and thunder. I hope someone shoots that "AKC Breeder." I hope it's me.

Anyway, I grabbed a Black & Tan and a cheap cigar, along with a family heirloom silver and crystal ashtray, and went out to enjoy the weather. There is something really nice about monsoon weather under a canopy with beer and cigar. A couple of dogs is a nice complement.

Am I the only one who enjoys nasty weather and thoughts of vigilantism?

Gee, I may go out for another smoke and beer.... Life can be so good. :tough:

Edited by Marswolf
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Guest nj.piney

just started to bbq some burgers, the wind came up and the rain came in sideways, scooted the chair and table farther under the awning . just relaxed and enjoyed my beer. must be my three years in the infantry, but i enjoy the rain if i dont have to hump up a hill.

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No rain here today, but plenty of time spent mowing the yard in the heat of the day... dealing with a broken central A/C unit in our upstairs floor, and painting another bedroom in our house.

But I did have a few Black & Tan myself just a while ago. :tough:

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Well, I turned it into a PM thing, sitting under my party lamps and listening to the tree frogs. You know I have heard them, bit not "really" heard them for years. Nice to just sit outside and listen and understand that there is something that doesn't revolve around us. Those tree frogs couldn't care a bit if we exist. :D

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Guest canynracer

Am I the only one who enjoys nasty weather and thoughts of vigilantism?

Gee, I may go out for another smoke and beer.... Life can be so good. :popcorn:

absolutely not. On all counts
*****. :D :D :D

(apparently you can't say P*u*s*s*y)

That was just mean...Jack agrees and you call him a Kitty- cat...LOL...


I too enjoy a storm while in my screened in patio with a beer...it clears my mind...

need rain here in Memphis.

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Guest db99wj
We are way behind on the rain. I think my creek may dry up again this summer.

Memphis isn't showing any drought problems on the map. We are in the severe drought area though. We got 0.56 inches of rain yesterday at my place


Love storms, love watching them come in and build.

Memphis had a very wet spring that got us out of the drought watch, but most of that came in the spring. We are at 37.85" for the year, normal is 33.41. For the month we are at 1.42", normal is 3.87".

Here is a picture from a storm that I took on the airplane going to Chicago, saw lighting in this one.


What was neat is that when I got to my hotel room, I turned on the the weather channel, and they were tracking that storm. It started to the West of Chicago and moved Southeast, south of Chicago through Iowa, and into Central Illinois.

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Guest TNDixieGirl
There is something really nice about monsoon weather under a canopy with beer and cigar. A couple of dogs is a nice complement.

Make that a Coke and a cigarette, and it sounds like heaven to me. :popcorn:

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I loves to sit in the garage, door open, cigar and beer(s) during a storm or a good rainfall. It is very relaxing.

And of course The Doors "Riders on the Storm" is the best song ever for a rainshower or storm.

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Ooooo, Riders On The Storm. I'll have to play that next time.

I feel the need for some highbrow crap, so here is a little cigar ditty by Rudyard Kipling.

The Betrothed

by Rudyard Kipling

"You must choose between me and your cigar."

- Breach of Promise Case, circa 1885.

Open the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout,

For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out.

We quarrelled about Havanas - we fought o'er a good cheroot,

And I knew she is exacting, and she says I am a brute.

Open the old cigar-box - let me consider a space;

In the soft blue veil of the vapour musing on Maggie's face.

Maggie is pretty to look at - Maggie's a loving lass,

But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass.

There's peace in a Larranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay;

But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away -

Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown -

But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town!

Maggie, my wife at fifty - grey and dour and old -

With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold!

And the light of Days that have Been the dark of the Days that Are,

And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar -

The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket -

With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket!

Open the old cigar-box - let me consider a while.

Here is a mild Manila - there is a wifely smile.

Which is the better portion - bondage bought with a ring,

Or a harem of dusky beauties, fifty tied in a string?

Counsellors cunning and silent - comforters true and tried,

And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride?

Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes,

Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close,

This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return,

With only a Suttee's passion - to do their duty and burn.

This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead,

Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead.

The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main,

When they hear my harem is empty will send me my brides again.

I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal,

So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall.

I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides,

And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides.

For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between

The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen.

And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear,

But I have been Priest of Cabanas a matter of seven year;

And the gloom of my bachelor days is flecked with the cheery light

Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight.

And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove,

But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love.

Will it see me safe through my journey or leave me bogged in the mire?

Since a puff of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire?

Open the old cigar-box - let me consider anew -

Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you?

A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke;

And a woman is only a woman, but a good Cigar is a Smoke.

Light me another Cuba - I hold to my first-sworn vows.

If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for Spouse!

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