Today we are launching a new Paulsen site. It is targeted toward our ag clients. Our cool new site is a story book containing all the funny ag stories that have happened to everyone here. Check it out... www.WeGetAg.com
My parents were, um, for lack of a better word experimental farmers. We had peacocks, drank goat milk, grew our own food, raised a pig or two, and a calf, had a cow, turkeys,pheasants, rabbits, and of course roosters and chickens for a couple of years. One of those years my father decided to borrow the neighbors plucking machine and butcher some chickens. Now, if you have never witnessed a chicken butchering you will have no idea what I am talking about, but they move a lot after they lose their heads...literally. Anyway, my mom had the stickers on our old rotary phone, you know them, poisen control center, police, humane society...so I called the society when my dad was drinking a Pabst and cutting them chicken heads off. I got paddled on my butt, hard. End of story.
Hi: Welcome to my blog. My place to post the random creative projects in my life. By day I am an art director at an advertising agency. By night I make jewelry. A little hobby I have named; Flatwear Jewelry (jewelry created from vintage silverware).
4 comments:
cool:)
You tattooed poor, defenseless bunnies?
wow. yeah, lou, that completely caught me by surprise too.
i guess i'll still go on vacation with you, but i'll keep an eye on ya.
he he.
oh. i laughed about wedgie tag.
Here's my farm story...
My parents were, um, for lack of a better word experimental farmers. We had peacocks, drank goat milk, grew our own food, raised a pig or two, and a calf, had a cow, turkeys,pheasants, rabbits, and of course roosters and chickens for a couple of years. One of those years my father decided to borrow the neighbors plucking machine and butcher some chickens. Now, if you have never witnessed a chicken butchering you will have no idea what I am talking about, but they move a lot after they lose their heads...literally. Anyway, my mom had the stickers on our old rotary phone, you know them, poisen control center, police, humane society...so I called the society when my dad was drinking a Pabst and cutting them chicken heads off. I got paddled on my butt, hard. End of story.
Post a Comment