Ol' Big Jim's Place

A blog in which stories, tall tales, and outright lies are told for your enjoyment.

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A Matter of Scale

(Goliath, who would like to address several exaggerations) Now, before we begin, I will make one thing perfectly clear: I was not, as has been suggested, overconfident. I was appropriately confiden…

[olbigjim]

A Matter of Scale

(Goliath, who would like to address several exaggerations) Now, before we begin, I will make one thing perfectly clear: I was not, as has been suggested, overconfident. I was appropriately confident given the available data. On Being a Giant It has been widely reported that I was “nine feet tall,” which I do not dispute, though I will say it tends to become the only thing anyone remembers…

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(via A Matter of Direction)

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A Matter of Direction

(Jonah & the Whale, in alternating testimony) Jonah If you’ve heard my story told straight, you’ve likely been led to believe I was disobedient. I prefer the term directionally selective. When a man is told to go preach repentance to a city known for its enthusiastic relationship with wickedness, it is only natural he might consider… alternatives. So, I did what any thoughtful individual…

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(via The Flood, According to the Fellow Who Built the Boat)

[olbigjim]

The Flood, According to the Fellow Who Built the Boat

(Noah, who would like to clarify a few things) If you’ve heard the story of the Flood, and most folks have, whether they meant to or not, you’ll know it’s usually told from a respectful distance. Rain fell.Waters rose.Ark floated.Animals behaved better than expected. And somewhere in the middle of all that… There was a man with a hammer. That would be me. On Being “Chosen” Now I’ve been…

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(via The Beast of Eden)

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The Beast of Eden

(Genesis, as told by the only creature who asked a follow-up question) If you’ve ever heard the story of Eden told proper, you’ll know it goes like this: There was a garden.There was a man.There was a woman.There was a rule. And then there was me. Now I’ve been called a great many things in the years since—tempter, deceiver, original troublemaker, and once, by a particularly upset preacher,…

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(via All Quit on the Western Front)

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All Quit on the Western Front

(Or, The Day the Marlboro Man Coughed Twice and Changed History) It happened on a Tuesday, which is already suspicious, because nothin’ respectable ever begins on a Tuesday unless it intends to become a story. The Marlboro Man, who, for legal and mythological reasons, we will call Buck Pearce, was sittin’ on a fence post out past Dry Creek, watchin’ the sun do its usual business of burnin’ up…

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(via Pride, Porch Lights, and the Cost of Silence)

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Pride, Porch Lights, and the Cost of Silence

A Piedmont reflection by Ol’ Big Jim Now, y’all know I ain’t never used this blog as a political soapbox. I reckon today we’ll do something a little bit different, though. This second post for today is something deeply personal that I want to share with you. That being said, here goes. Today, I’ll tell you something plain, and I won’t dress it up in lace or apology. A man can spend a powerful…

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(via Y’all Ain’t Southern Slang, It’s English with a Bite)

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Y’all Ain’t Southern Slang, It’s English with a Bite

Let me say it out loud, plain and simple: Y’all ain’t lazy grammar. It’s genius grammar. It’s the linguistic equivalent of a well-oiled shotgun; simple, reliable, and deadly effective. And if you think it’s “wrong,” then gather round and listen to me. Y’all came to the right place for a little bit of learnin’. A Brief, Slightly Drunk Etymology Y’all didn’t just fall out of a magnolia tree. It…

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A Piedmont Lantern Story May 31 – The Porch Light Holds A Piedmont Lantern Story Tuesday closed out the month the way the best Piedmont stories do. Quiet. By morning, the Mary Magdalene Methodist R…

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May 31 – The Porch Light Holds

A Piedmont Lantern Story May 31 – The Porch Light Holds A Piedmont Lantern Story Tuesday closed out the month the way the best Piedmont stories do. Quiet. By morning, the Mary Magdalene Methodist Retirement Village sign stood firm at the edge of the bypass, its clean lettering promising comfort, dignity, and carefully landscaped serenity. Work continued. Money flowed. Progress, as Oliver…

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May 30– The Terms of Patience

A Piedmont Lantern Story By Monday morning, the town of Piedmont had done its final adjustment. Nobody said it outright, but the mood had shifted from wondering what would happen to accepting what already had. At the Huddle House, Pearl poured coffee with the calm of a woman who had watched more than one slow storm pass clean overhead. “Well,” Earl said, folding his paper, “looks like they’re…

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