BIB 'N TUCKER




COUNTIN' HEADS

The fellers all called him Fuzzy and let me tell you, was he.
Whiskers, the kind of which a brush hog could not attack
He was also a little bit "tetched" in the head and very fussy
But he was a kindly soul and so year after year we brought him back

Fuzzy was the sort of feller who wanted to belong 
But somehow he always just came up short of the mark
At the campfire each night, he was always singing another song
Don't know if he couldn't hear or just couldn't read lips in the dark

Then one day, Fuzzy said his grandpa had met his death
And left him a small spread over in the next county
Fuzzy was both sad and excited all in the same breath
A hundred head of cows and a ranch was a real bounty

Next season, Fuzzy called us all up to help with his gathering
We took in all of his branded cows and their calves
Somehow the total number looked a lot more flattering
Could each cow have given birth to three calves?

Well, this continued every spring and fall
Until Fuzzy was the biggest rancher on the plains
It was hard to believe but Fuzzy swore it was all
On the up and up and nothing but honest gains

No one could believe the luck this once poor feller was having
Year after year, his herd size kept growing and multiplying
Every season, even his older cows never quit calving
And strangely enough none of them were ever found dying

The stock growers association asked him to give a speech
Most ranchers achieved only a sixty to ninety percent calf crop
Fuzzy told 'em 'bout countin' heads and multiplyin' feet
Then he subtracted his costs for replacements on top

He talked about losses due to bad weather and animal kills
Dividing the percentages into the sums and deciperin' the outcome
He had graphs of how national averages showed frills
And he calculated that the geometry would give him a good income

Then one day, the bean counters came to look over his stock
They felt that his overabundant success had a very strange path
They did their own count and inventoried like a hawk
When they put him in jail, they said it was due to "Fuzzy Math"

© 2026 Brian McNeal




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TIB 'N BUCKER

Tib and Bucker were just the same
Like Dweedle Tee and Dweedle Tum
One was dumber, and the other, just dumb
Nothing at all like Colonel Tom Thumb

Tib said to Bucker one day so fine,
"Why do you act so dumb all the time?"
To which, Bucker replied with a sigh
"I could be like you if I only half try"

Skiddle dee divey, what should they do?
Tib and Bucker working at the zoo
Bucker in the monkey cage with food
Tib lookin' on, doesn't have a clue

Hear-no, See-no and Speak-no out of the cage
Three crazy monkeys on a rampage
Zoo crew Tib and Bucker doin' time
Deaf, dumb and blind with monkey shines

Here comes Tom Thumb to the rescue
He's got a wizard with a trick or two
Grind that organ loud and fast
Three little monkeys home at last

Tib and Bucker traded places
Monkeys back in their cages
Lookin' smart, our Tib and Bucker
Dressed in their finest bib and tucker


 © 2026 Brian McNeal




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BLOWIN' GLASS

When he first started blowin' glass
The results were only good for trash
But soon the skill became clear
And glassblowing was his career

Flowers were his forte
With delicate petals to display
And soon roses were his favorites
All kinds of roses, dull and bright

Mono colored roses on thorny stems
Multi-colored roses mixed in among them
Tiny little roses for a lady's lapel
And giant glass roses that ring like a dinner bell

Each new rose that he blew
Was placed in his window to view
Side by side and stacked four or five deep
Roses by the hundreds allow the sunlight to seep

Soon his windows were overstuffed with colored glass sculptures
A view to behold for any passersby with an eye for culture
We always tell him he should enter them in the fair, but he opposes
He says he likes looking at the world through glass colored roses

© 2026 Brian McNeal





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IN OR OUT

In or out
Is what it's all about.
Boot tops hidden,
Or boot tops showin'?

A light under a pail.
A ship without a sail.
Makes no sense at all,
To have tops that tall,

If trousers cover the wares,
So passersby are unaware.
Artwork covered by canvas,
Like corn covers Kansas.

Why have boots on your feet?
If you cheat us of the treat,
To see your greens, yellows and blues.
Why not just wear shoes?

© 2026 Brian McNeal


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MOTHER NATURE'S REMEDIES

When a cowboy is young and on the go
He's got a head full of hair willin' to grow
But as he ages he loses some of it
And wonders just what became of it

The older he gets, the more he sees his skull
Lookin' like a giant peanut without a hull
The mirror doesn't lie, no matter how he cries
Mother Nature says: "Wear a hat, just you try"

Then the wind comes up and renders his hat
Useles for hiding where his shortcomings are at
Mother Nature's plans can't be thwarted
Even if you think your looks have been distorted

When a young cowpoke is just startin' out
All that hair on top is a big part of what he's all about
Prim and propper and groomed up nice for the gals
Notice how it's all up top to keep it out of the chaparrals

But as he gets older and a lot wiser, it's not needed much
And so Mother Nature finds ways to relieve him of the crutch
With years of wisdom crammed in a space not so large
It's just natural that she wants the sun to give him more charge


© 2026 Brian McNeal




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JINGLEBOBS

Riding through the brush, on a high-plains plateau
Thinkin' as he rides; Oh, how the ride is slow.
Rowels on spurs ring, such a real delight
Chiming in with the prairie birds, singing all the day and night

(Chorus) Jinglebobs, jinglebobs, jingle all the day
A cowboy's day, with little pay. Listen to the horse's neigh
Jinglebobs, jinglebobs, jingle all the day
A prairie song with voices strong. Cowboy lookin' for the stray

A couple days ago, I thought I saw a sign
A coyote trail headed for the county line
I followed it on down and there it took a turn
It was the day this cowboy's pay was really, really earned

(Chorus)

A mama cow with her calf, stuck right in the mud
A remnant of yesterday's one-hundred year flood
My horse was big and strong. My rope was in a loop
I roped that cow real neat and drug her through the soup

(Chorus)

A cow that's saved, is much grace, on a cattle spread
A cowboy's word to save the herd is what this rider said
Now everything's alright. The cows are home again
And that's the way it is, on our ranch, outside of old Cheyenne

(Chorus)


© 2026 Brian McNeal





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OLD FASHIONED TRACTOR TIRES

Well, it had rained most of the week.
But work still needed done, so to speak.
More rain 'spected today and again tomorrow
Puttin' it off till next week means sure sorrow

So, it wasn't the best day to be tearin' up the yard
But those power-line polls needed pushed hard
Outta the way so the crews could get to work
Never mind that the weather was bein' a jerk

Not the best day to be puttin' tractor tires on the lawn
Giant ruts and tractor tracks - meaning more work to act on
Texas weather never seems to cooperate with a workin' man
Never seems to give you a break - even when you've got a plan

So the poles got moved, and the lawn looks a sight
But puttin' the tractor back in the barn was the fright
That Texas Caliche mud was hard packed into those tire lugs
Then driving over the lawn where straw covered newly seeded plugs

Here comes the rain. No time to wash down the mud
Tractor barn can get cleaned later after the flood
Now the very next time I needed the tractor in the parade for politics
I found I no longer had tires, but instead I was driving on Adobe Bricks


© 2026 Brian McNeal





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A SHORTER SHAGGY DOG STORY

He was tall, but he was called Shorter,
Not Shorty, and I'll tell you why
He never could tell the full tale
Half would stay South of the border

Seems every tale he ever told
Was lacking in something
Something he forgot to say
Or maybe something he would hold

A beginning, a middle and ...that's it
No one ever knew what happened
A good story gone sour in a hurry
All because he would never finish it

Like the time he told about the two
Cowboys in the saloon after closing
And ever-thing that didn't happen
And the rest, well, we never knew

Once he told us about a fish
With a woman's upper half
But then he stopped just short
Of givin' every feller his wish

Then he got the habit of tellin' the end
But never startin' it out right
He'd give us the punchline 
But, nothin' before to blend

Well, after awhile we just stopped listenin'
There just wasn't any point
Half a story that goes nowhere
Like a baptism without a christenin'

Now, I don't like to brag
But I'm here to tell ya,
Ya just can't tell a shaggy dog story
Without the shag



© 2026 Brian McNeal





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