Celebrating St. Bob

I've mended Howard's broken fence once more,
And painted it a gruesome shade of red
From cans my brother found behind the shed,
Half full, mixed on the way home from the store
By adding road salt, fast as they could pour,
And spit. What's left I'm testing out for lead,
And if it's safe, I'll pour it on his head
To celebrate St. Bob of the Large Bore.

We spent another lazy afternoon
Dispatching squirrels. Yes, we had a quest:
To paint our shotguns blue, but Howard guessed
We'd settle for the red. At the saloon
He bought us beer, a helium balloon,
And tattoos of a rattler on my chest.