Why did God give me one big mouth to stick my two feet in?

Another Uncle Bardie lyric. This is what a country song should really sound like.

My wife is divorcing me
My girlfriend is mad as hell
Got run over by my truck
My dawg bit me in the tail
Lost that lottery ticket
And its six numbers to win
Shot myself in the toe
Hurt like all kinds of sin

CHORUS:
Cause I drank that moonshine
That cornlikker’s getting to me
Oh, that sweet shine of shines
Sure made a man out of me

Went myself a cow roping
Tipped some cows on the sides
Rustled up some of that beef
Pushed ‘em into my double wide
Bull saw me in the pasture
Bull took a liking to me
Now I got a big ole hole
In that place I cannot see

CHORUS:
Cause I drank that moonshine
That cornlikker’s getting to me
Oh, that sweet shine of shines
Sure made a man out of me

BRIDGE:
Why did God give me one big mouth to stick my two feet in?
I’m a-thinking the mouth is lonely and needs two good friends

Got myself some Jesus
Off to the church I went
Down came the big ole steeple
They said it was an accident
Now I’m six feet under
My grave is double-wide
My mouth’s full of dirt
Toes pointing to the sky

CHORUS:
Cause I drank that moonshine
That cornlikker’s getting to me
Oh, that sweet shine of shines
Sure made a man out of me

haiku for the day: a debate

Animals intrigue me. I see my cat and I ask myself, “Just what is she thinking?” She has that look in her eye. You know the one. The one that says she might just have me for lunch if I don’t mind my manners and put food in her kitty bowl. Or the times she is asleep, snoring and dreaming. What is she dreaming of? Probably some cat heaven where there are things to chase. Or the fish swims around in that tank. Wonder if he’s thinking, “Gosh darn it. What is that big eye that’s looking at me for?”

a dog and a bird
under a tree debating
usefulness of cats

Prompt: A Dog Named Bob.

How could I resist this prompt The Daily Post: You have 20 minutes to write a post that includes the words mailbox, bluejay, plate, syrup, and ink. And one more detail… the story must include a dog named Bob. Here goes:

Bob, my cocker spaniel, ran out to the mailbox, carrying his bluejay buddy, Feistus, on his back. He opened the mailbox and ink poured out. It was as sticky as that plate of syrup he got into yesterday.