Whoda Thunk It?

So the Generational Theft Act of 2009 passes the House without one Republican vote. Looks like the House Republicans finally remembered why we elect Republicans.

It's a durned shame though that it took them so long. If they'd had remembered that some six or eight years ago Nancy Pelosi would be the Minority Leader.

Scattershooting While Wondering What Happened To Jelly Bryce.

I see that President Barky has unified the country. Did Bush ever tell the Donks not to listen to Air America?

So, Bob Woodward says that there are more scandals coming from the Barky Administration. Let's see, Rezko is cooperating with the prosecution, half of his election committee insiders are under subpoena, his Sec Treas is a tax cheat and his Attorney General didn't know about Marc Rich, even though he was the one ordering the Clinton Justice (heh) Dept. to get the money from one of Rich's companies. Gee. ya think, Woodward? Gawd, just the SecState will give us years of scandal fun.

I was looking at Ace of Spades, seeing what the Moronbloggers are up to and noticed that some clown playing Che Guevara had to leave the press conference because someone in the press crowd knew that Guevara was a murderous goon. Then came the update that Ashley Judd is finally glad to live in America, again. There sure are a lot of meatheads in Hollywood, no wonder the last movie I went to the theater to say was A Time To Kill.

I have been looking at the histories of a bunch of old lawmen and gunfighters. Delf "Jelly" Bryce joined the Oklahoma City Police Dept. in the late 1920s, 1927 I believe. He later joined the FBI, shortly after they were allowed to carry guns. Up until then all FBI Agents either had law degrees or accounting degrees. This changed after the Kansas City Massacre. Last I heard there were not very many gunmen on the faculties of law and accounting schools. So J. Edgar Hoover hired some gun fighting cops.

D. A. Bryce got his nickname, Jelly, after a bad guy he either captured or shot said something along the line of "I can't believe that jellybean got me." Jellybean was underworld argot for a fancy dresser. The name Jelly stuck. Up until fairly recently detectives were noted for being sharp dressers. Seems that it helped, criminals were intimidated and witnesses more willing to talk. Of course law enforcement saleries did't cover the cost of fine threads, and once taking a cup of coffee became graft, much less a tailor made suit, we lost that. Notice how crime has gone down? Anyway, Jelly Bryce shot nineteen bad guys in his career, very few, if any, survived. Life Magazine did a article on Jelly in 1945 with a stop-motion photography set of him drawing his .357 in two fifths of a second. Officers can't do that anymore, too many safety featers on their holsters.

Jelly died in his sleep after a long career. I doubt we would have gotten through the crime wave of the prohibition and depression years without these old gunfighting lawmen, who would now be in jail.

I Give Up.

I give up.I am too old to properly train Cochise' Apache Princess. She just turned two years old and she still hasn't learned not to jump on people, Lord knows I tried. And she has pulled Linda Lou off her feet too many times. The cuts and tears on my arm never have a chance to heal from her jumping on me when I try to put the lead on her to bring her into the house.

This does not mean she isn't a sweet dog, she is. But we do not have the money to have her trained and I simply no longer have the strength to do it myself. Even ten years ago I could but I just haven't what it takes any more. So, before I take her to German Shepherd Rescue of North Texas or Camp Wolfgang in Ennis, do any of my readers know someone who wants a sweet, but stubborn, unspayed German Shepherd? I have her papers, although I never registered her with the AKC. At two years old she is ready to breed or can be spayed. So far we have just kept her inside or in the fenced backyard when she is in heat.

I have no idea how much it costs to send a dog places but it is probably less than the cost of a purebred German Shepherd. All I ask is no puppy mills or really weird Nazi types. She is a good girl, we simply got too old to handle a big dog. Anyhow, it is breaking my heart to say this but I just must let her go before one of us is badly hurt.

Princess gets along fine with other dogs that she knows, she needs some work on dogs she doesn't know. We have no cats so I don't know about that.

The Inauguration.

So I think the pundits garbled their lead. Instead of the speech being chiseled in stone they meant that it's an administration of chiselers. The guy in charge of the IRS is a tax cheat. Wonderful.

If I ever invite the Reverend Lowery over he ain't saying grace, we'd starve to death. And what's with "Whitey, do what's right"? I'm pretty sure a lot of whites voted for this guy. Last I looked there weren't enough black voters to elect a President, even with ACORN's help.

I note that there was very little applause during the Obama speech. I would imagine that is because he kept harping about responsibility. All those people waiting for free ice cream and hearing responsibility. As the puppyblender would say, Heh.

Scattershooting While Wondering What Happend To Walter Walsh

First thing I saw this morning was that Bill Faith had died. This was enough to send me back to bed except I was hungry. While I never met the man I enjoyed his writing. We shared a little something, we both got to play on the second place team in the southeast Asian war games. See you on the other side, Bill.

I can't remember, is real butter a killer or safer than margarine on Sunday. I wish these public spirited "scientists" could make up their minds. Anyhow I had a big stack of buckwheat cakes with bacon today. I couldn't remember so I had butter on some of the pancakes and margarine on the others. It's funny how one becomes a public spirited "scientist" these days. It takes a fax machine and a fancy sounding name for your "Institute". Take OwlGore. His education is flunking out of Divinity School, rumor has it that he majored in marijuana. Now, with no evidence whatsoever he is making bazillions in the glow bull warming racket. I'd have a better chance at believing in this glow bull warming if OwlGore himself acted as if he did.

Of course I'd also have a better chance in believing in glow bull warming if the climate hasn't been changing, in cycles, for all of history. The last time we had glow bull warming the Vikings were rowing their long ships 'cross the oceans. With no coal fired electric plants, I might add.

Now we're seeing Obambi flags. I sure hope the realisation of the responsibilities hits this guys soon. I realize that it's fun being important, eventually he must realise that we have families to protect. Screeching that George Bush is a dummy does nothing to protect Michelle's children. Or my grandchildren. Barack, in a very short time, it's on you. Buying the world a Coke ain't gonna get it.

I would feel a lot more comfortable if I had the slightest idea that you know there are a whole bunch of people in this world that would like to see America in flames. Heck, for right now I'd be happy to know that you aren't one of them.

Is it any wonder that I should still be worrying about whether or not Obambi wants America to burn while the Chicago Tribune is going broke? Aren't the reporters supposed to find out such things? Kind of like Enron. Somehow Enron cheated all through the Clinton Administration, the Bush Administration caught them and it's all Bush's fault.

Oooh, cool. Seems that the Plague has hit an AlQ camp in Algeria, killing forty, so far. I hope it's painful and spreading fast among them. Some Leprosy would be nice, too. Please, nobody tell these nutbags that making life miserable for the educated means that all your doctors end up in Britain and California. I read this in a UK paper's website. The comments indicate they mostly think it's the CIA. If only.

I just finished reading Col. Charles Askin's autobiography, Unrepentant Sinner. Charlie was a Border Patrol Officer back during Prohibition. Back when lawmen had different rules. Charlie left a lot of bad guys toes up or face down in the Rio Grande. Charlie didn't much care which side of a bad guy he shot. His specialty was a Remington 1100 shotgun with a custom eight shot magazine and the barrel cut down to 22 inches. This being before night sights he tied a white bandage around the end of the tube.

That got me Googling around, looking for other old lawmen from those days. Walter Walsh was a Feeb from back when they were gunfighters. Today they'd both be in jail. It's too bad that crooks have more rights than lawmen these days. How's that working out for us?

It's no wonder I concentrate on my grandkids, my dogs and cowboy action shooting these days.

Naturally, I Forgot The Camera.

So I got up this morning and called Tammi on the Cell phone, she was almost to Texas, just passing through Shreveport, LA. I told her to call here when she blew through the Tyler area and I'd meet her at the side of the road and we'd have lunch.

Then I dressed in something easy to spot, one of my bright red "bib" shirts and my big Mexican style cowboy hats. Then when she called I got in the car and drove down to the highway 34 exit, with a fast stop at a pawn shop to buy an adjustable wrench. I had loaded Bingo in the car and off we went.

I hadn't been at the exit even five minutes when up drove Tammi. We scurried over to the big Outlet Mall just south of the freeway and Tammi parked right by the small Police substation and we drove to a little down home cafe there in Terrell, Pop's Fried Chicken and cafeteria. By the time we got there Bingo and Tammi were best friends forever.

We ate and talked. Yes, Tammi did let me get a few words in. All too soon it was time for her to continue on. We got back in the car and Bingo assumed his spot on her lap and we drove back to the outlet mall. When last seen Tammi was advancing on the Old Navy outlet store with a brilliant blue light flaming in her eyes and warehouse work clothes on her mind. I rolled my window down and hollered YEE-HAW, knowing nobody in that store had a chance.

The I drove home, Bingo missed Tammi.

Update: I parked the car right next to a raised concrete slab so I could hug Tammi without getting an eye full of something that ought not be in a married man's face. I forget to tell her that old Groucho Marx line: "Take me to your ladder, lady. I'll see your leader later."

Life In A Bingo Parlor

I didn't realize how fast my house became a Bingo Parlor. Bingo has settled in, the first day he wouldn't eat but now he's settled right in.

He and CAP are already BFF. That's the good news. The bad news is that he seems to like me better than he likes Linda Lou. I may be banished from the house.

I took a nice little nap today with both CAP and Bingo, it only took a few minutes before CAP quit trying to play and we had a triple nap going. I was worried that CAP wouldn't settle down. It's also kind of worrisome when they get to playing and suddenly CAP has that whole Pug in her mouth, so far she hasn't chomped down, though. I haven't had the camera aimed when Bingo's whole head in is her mouth.

On the way home we stopped in Tyler, the rose capital of Texas, on the way home to get a new collar for him, he and Ming were a hit. Seems everybody loves Pugs. Then I took him with me to pick up the laundry at the bundle service, our washer just bit the dust and the washer Linda Lou wants won't be at Lowe's 'til the 26th. Anyhow the lady running the laundromat also loved Bingo.

I'm experimenting on how to format the pictures, I think I'll leave them all on the left, moving them around makes for a weird layout. We got a new Froggie at Petsmart, I think we need to keep it away from CAP, she tends to rip stuffies limb from limb.

Bee Eye Enn Gee Oh, And Bingo Was His Name-o

Linda Lou woke me earlier than usual, then refused to make me breakfast because she wanted to get moving. We drove to Quinlen and filled up the car and then set out toward Lufkin, some 150+ miles away, just knowing that Bingo the Pug would be gone when we got there. Oh well, I figured it'd be worth the drive, after all it's a known scientific fact that the further you are from home the less calories count.

We hit Lufkin at about two or three PM, I never did stop to eat for fear someone would barely beat us there. Yesterday was unusually warm for this time of year, today it was flat out cold. When the wind comes out of the north during winter there ain't nothing between Texas and the North Pole but a few barbed wire fences.

Update: I did eventually eat, my favorite traveling meal, a BBQ rib dinner. It's lucky I don't get that way very often, the ribs were dried out and horrible crunchy. The place was in Rusk, a town best known for the State Hospital for what we used to call the criminally insane. Perhaps the folks running that smoker are graduates.

Anyhow we took Ming the Merciless along, it's important that the two Pugs get along. We made only one stop on the way, at a highway rest stop. It's kind of unfair that we men get to stand up to pee in an unheated rest stop, something Linda Lou reminds me about every winter trip. She doesn't cut down on drinking soda, though.

At any rate, Bingo was still there. He started giving me puppy kisses right then, and then gave a few to Linda Lou, also. We filled out the paperwork, I brought Ming out of the car and they got along as well as a young male and an old lady dog can.

Cochise' Apache Princess hasn't met him yet, we're leaving her in the backyard for another hour or so for Bingo to get used to the house before springing giant Dog on him. I think it'll be fine, though, CAP likes to play. She really misses Eddie so this should work out. Pictures to follow.

Update: As you can see, the pictures are here now.

We may be stuck with the Name, Bingo. He is not a stray but an elderly couple turned him in when they decided they couldn't care for him. So he's had the name since he was a pup. The fact that he's not a stray is very good news, we have his medical records and he's already neutered and all that, checked out as heartworm free. He is about 14 months old, born 11/21/07.

And, of course, he's already perfected that tilted-head gaze. So, I'm missing a cowboy action shoot, the next one ought to be warmer, anyway.

Cross Your Fingers, Lufkin Here We Come!

So I was getting ready to go to my last appointment with the Doc that cut me open and repaired my rotator cuff when Linda Lou printed out a page from Petfinder with a picture of a young male Pug. Well she called them later and it seems that we are driving to Lufkin, Texas first thing in the morning. I hope nobody beats us there.

So we are driving a hundred and fifty miles, one way, to see a fawn Pug named Bingo. If we end up with him that name won't last. Anyway, y'all keep your fingers crossed, Linda Lou NEEDS another Pug.

I've only been through Lufkin a few times, it's not on an Interstate and there is nothing there for me to drive to see. Aside from a big chicken processing plant there are paper mills and foundries. Let's face it, if there weren't a Pug, I wouldn't bother.

I'm sure Lufkin is a nice enough town, though. I believe it's in the east Texas piney woods, I'll tell you more after the drive. We'll take the camera, just in case there is something worth a picture. I suspect that this trip is going to take the place of the Sunday Cowboy Action Shoot.

Peas On Earth

I blame Army Wife Toddler Mom. A few days ago she wrote about creamed eggs on toast for supper back when families knew what poor was. Well, we seldom had that but creamed tuna on toast, or when I was really lucky, biscuits was pretty common, so was creamed chipped beef.

Now I haven't made creamed anything, ever, so I decided to try.I started out with a simple roux of butter and flour and added a cup and a half of hot milk. As the white sauce started to thicken I drained a can of tuna, a can of peas and peeled three hard boiled eggs. I added a sprinkle of garlic, paprika and crushed red peppers. Note to self, a whole can is WAY too many peas. Even Ming the Muslim Dog (peas be upon her) thought it was too many peas. Anyhow I added all that and now think I could have done with only two boiled eggs.

Anyhow I mixed it all up and served it over buttermilk biscuits. I think with only a third of a can of peas and two boiled eggs it will be perfect. Not bad for a first try, though.

Next up, creamed chipped beef on biscuits. Now I've been eating that pretty regularly, Stoufers makes it in frozen bags but now that I know how easy it is to make white sauce I'm making it myself. I feel as if I'm becoming the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show. And I'm not even Swedish.

Just don't tell my Momma that I make canned biscuits.

Durban II

So, I don't know where I read it but there is supposed to be a new gathering at Durban in South Africa, fighting racism and suchlike. They hope to get a law passed against demeaning religions.

I wonder if such a law would shut up Michael Newdow. Or maybe all those Muslims saying awful things about Christians and Jews. Now I understand the purpose of this law is so folks like me can't call Muslims murderous goons when they fling rockets into Israel and then whine like sissy boys when the Izzies get tired of it.

So, how is a UN law going to keep me from calling the murderous goons that attacked Bombay murderous goons? Last I looked the UN had very little authority in Hunt County, Texas. Maybe a little more down in Austin, at least near the University, but here?

Personally I think that if the various Islamic nations would like to be well thought of they should stop killing people. Or at least not whine like little girlyboys when people fight back.

The Big Party

So we rounded up the usual suspects and celebrated William's birthday. There was an extra present here. I'd given our dogs each a bone so they wouldn't notice us being gone, at least until we were out of earshot. Since there were three bones in the package I took one to Pele, Dean and Stephanie's dog.

Anyway there were two parties offered, a small party with just the grandparents and aunts and uncles, plus brothers and cousins or a party with all of his little friends. I chose the grandparent party and will not go to the other one. I am not overly endowed with sanity already.

There were only five children, it felt like dozens, and that's with one not walking yet. Speaking of the one not walking, he's out of the will for trying to pull my moustache off. All the other grandkids will get guns and stuff, he's getting the underwear I will be wearing when I drop dead. Unwashed. My lip is two sizes bigger than it was*.

Anyhow it was fun seeing the kids, now I can go back to being a curmudgeon for a while. The next birthday is a canine birthday, C.A.P. turns two on the fifteenth of this month. She says send meat.



*You believe that threat, right?