I was born somewhere in the area of 1930, which means I have lived more days than I will live. Now this blogging stuff is new for me, but I have thrown a few rocks in my time. As I was walking the foothills this morning in the upper regions of North Carolina, closer to Pilot Mountain than than I am to Virginia, I decided to pick me up some rocks and walk back to the house.

Now, I have not thrown as many rocks as I would like to lately, but as I was ambling back I thought here I have these rocks and and they are so nice and smooth who should get the first one right up side the head, metaphorically speaking of course.

Now, I like to watch some football. Watching college football is about as good as it gets and watching them Gators makes it perfect. I have been watching them since I went to a game that they played with the Volunteers way back when. I was a Volunteer fan at the time but something about those spunky Gators having to run all over a wet field (General wanted it that way) to slow them up was more than a fair-minded body could stand.

So, I have seen the ups and downs over the years of God's favorite team (if you an atheist just humor me) cause we know that in 1964 God started smiling on them Gators and has been doing it ever since. Shoot, if you are the son of a preacher and play QB for the Gators, you might just win you a Heisman tro[hy and a National Championship. If that ain't proof God is on your side then what is?

Any how, back to the Bobby thing I got these rocks for. Reminds me of an old deputy friend of mine who kept asking me "what about them rocks". Well as I told him and am now telling you, here is about them rocks.

Robert L. Bowden, who used to live up close to these hills, needs a few of those rocks tossed at him until one hits dead center home. Now, once again, I am speaking metaphorically and do not think anyone will actually take rocks and throw them at his noggin, because as a long time admirer of rocks, why ruin a good rock?

Now, I remember Saint Bobby when he was not a bad sort of human being. When he first went to what we now call that school out west he was a rather enjoyable fair minded person. Shoot, when I went down to the Bijou to watch that movie about them Thundering Herd, it reminded of the first face of Bobby. Now, I do not know what caused Bobby to get all these faces, could be the weight gain, maybe Miss Ann has snactched so many knots in his behind that he is afraid of his own shadow, but rest assured that the lying, cheating, self serving, hypoctitical, win at all costs, egotistical, criminole loving man that now sort of coaches the SOW is not the jolly classy person that went to Tally all them years ago.

So over the next few days I will throw me some rocks at those faces. I think I can hit him dead center in the middle of his head with each one. As each face is shown and then peeled back to show an even more disgusting one then you will say that old mountain man knows his stuff. Shoot fire, if you got the stomach for it you can see the layers of flesh being exposed at other places by folks who thought he was Saint Bobby a few years ago.

Now, he ain't nothing but a figure head and that is probably the last face of Bobby we will have to endure.

More later, chickens to feed, cows to milk and then we will talk about the good Bobby (before them wide rights caused him to go to the stadium one night and exhange his soul for a couple national titles, souls come cheap these day).

Till next time, its me it me it Ernest T.