Elections, Near And Far

 So, in West Virginia an inmate in the Federal Lockup got some 40% of the vote vs. Obama's 60%. Seem that the inmate drew most of his votes in the coal country. Obamanites claim RAAAAACSM!!!!!!!!111!!!!!

 It couldn't possibly be that the folks in the coal country know when their jobs are being savaged, no, it's got to be RAAAAACSM!!!!!!!!!!1111!!!!!!!

 Richard Lugar is being sent home, if he has a home anywhere but inside the Beltway. Anyhow, he's being moved from an office in the Senate. This makes it easier to vote for Romney. The more solid conservatives in both houses of Congress, the harder it will be for a President Romney to ease left. This, BTW, is why I'm supporting Ted Cruz for the Senate seat from here in Texas. Well, that and Dewhurst didn't have the courage to go to the debates. I dunno, I might have been willing to support Dewhurst but this cowardice is a deal breaker.  If I wanted to vote for someone without the courage to articulate his beliefs I'd be voting in the other primary.

 Same Sex marriage went to a crashing defeat in North Carolina. I guess Teh Gheys are now going to insult NASCAR. Oh, wait. Despite having a boy and daughter in law, plus a bunch of grandkids there I know nothing about the rest of that primary.

 France voted to jump off the cliff, as did Greece. The nice thing about Greece is that they have been unable to form a government. If they can be kept from forming a government for, oh, I don't know, the next ten years, folks over there might  learn to take care of themselves again. I'm not a big fan of anarchy but Neo-Nazis?

 Meanwhile Obama is trying to end unemployment by building the largest paid campaign staff in US history. Of course this means his campaign managers will be busy managing staff instead of the campaign which is how we get these bright ideas like hashtag askmichelle.  And Forward! Over the cliff! Remember, Obama is smart!

Clean Cartridge

 So I've been busy doing lots of laundry since Steve fixed the washer. Yesterday I pulled the blue jeans and blue jean shorts out of the washer and lo and behold there was an old cartridge laying in the bottom, still damp. I said an ugly word and remembered where I had picked it up while in the frantic cleaning since we got the new shelves. I have loose ca'tridges lyin' around, I recognized that this was a several year old one because it was a semiwadcutter lead alloy bullet that I didn't use anymore. Instead I like the round nosed flat point as those work both in the revolvers and the rifle. Anyhow those who studied the shooting game some thirty+ years or more ago know about how moisture was a big enemy of the primer.

So, anyhow, here was this old, wet cartridge that went through the agitation, spin and rinse cycles, thirty-forty years back it would have maybe been useful in a slingshot but worthless in a firearm. So I stuck it in one of the .45 revolvers, opened the back door and let fly into the ground. I got a loud noise and the ground erupted with the impact of a 255 grain slug at some 850 fps.

 Now I realise that a sample of one does not a big scientifical experiment but still, I remember when we were not even supposed to touch a primer with bare hands for fear that the skin oil would render it inert. It wasn't long ago that a factory round couldn't go through the washer and work, now a five+ year old handload can. Progress.

Dear "Julia"

 "Julia" the only thing I owe you is common courtesy. You are neither my daughter nor my friend. I am not responsible for your life, nor did I marry your mother and take you for a stepdaughter.

 I am somewhat sorry for you, you have been born with a massive debt. You will be shoved into government programs your whole life under the unending Obama regime. What Obama doesn't tell you. "Julia", is that each government program will cost you your freedom, cost you your money and will actually make your life worse. The Headstart Program is nothing more than very expensive daycare and recent studies have shown that the $22,000 dollars per year Headstart will leave you less prepared for school than the eight or nine thousand dollar per year day care.

 The government schools? They will cost far more than private schools and the teachers will be far less capable. Since the Department of Education came up the K-12 schools have become the training ground for losers. There will be a few good teachers among the scads of drones and administrators. The administrators will be doing their best to grind the good teachers down. If you are very lucky you will know how to read at what was once an eighth grade grade level. You will know all about putting a condom on a cucumber, though. I reckon that's something.

 Funny, though. When I was in school we learned how to put on condoms on our own time, at no cost to the government.

 You will now be ready for "college". A BA degree will give you almost as much knowledge as a thirteen year old eighth grade graduate of the Teddy Roosevelt era. Please, Julia, do not major in any of the Angry Studies programs. "Julia" Womyn's Studies will not teach you how to be a woman, only in how to be angry that you are. I started my brief college career when the big fight over the first Angry Studies program was going on. It was Black Studies. I got in trouble, although nothing like I would today, for asking how long this feller would have to study to be black. I then got further marginalized for asking how much someone would pay him to be black with that degree. And would it be more than a black guy with only a high school diploma heavy in shop classes. I got into the last bit of trouble commenting that I served with a lot of black guys in the Service and none of them had gone to collage to learn how to be black yet they were doing just fine at being black. I sat alone at the Student Union cafeteria a lot.

 Welcome to adulthood, "Julia". Good luck in finding a job. A simple fact of life that no one will tell you is that every single government program take money out of the economy that would be used to create jobs. The evil rich do not stuff their money under the mattress, nor is it change between their couch cushions. The rich have bank accounts. Those banks then lend that money to folks starting businesses and buying homes. People work for those businesses and build those homes. The rich buy stock. That stock builds more businesses. The rich pay taxes. Now some of that money taken in taxes provides essential services. Fire Departments and Police Departments, for two. Although police are overburdened with "crimes" that are such only because some politician likes to feel important.

 Anyhow. "Julia" you should be totally on your own now. Too bad you're a helpless ward of the state. Enjoy your life. In the unending Obama Regime that has mapped out your life you will now spend well over forty years working at a government provided job. Now matter how well you work or how well you learn you will never make a dime more than that lout over there who came to work late and half drunk. Sorry "Julia", that's the rules. You will never own your home, "Julia". The Regime only allows it's crony capitalist friends to own home. You will live in a small apartment in a large complex that smells of dirty diapers and boiled cabbage. You will not have a car. You will ride the bus and the subway where feral youths have free reign to mug, assault, rape and murder. Good luck. If you dare arm yourself and actually fight off one of these groups you will be a vigilante, savaged in the press. If you don't fight them off you will be a victim.

 Welcome to Obama's America. Good luck.

What An Ordeal

 My pal Steve came out here to the Poorfarm and worked his butt off for two solid days. This after he worked another whole day fixing out mower. He redid two spots where water leaks had made soft spots in the floor and put new vinyl down in those spots, put a mess of shelves up and fixed our washing machine.

 Steve does this for a living but he was between jobs. He talked a pal of his who runs a warehouse for flooring and got enough leftover vinyl and plywood for the job and had salvaged the shelving from some sort of remodel. I will be paying for this for as long as he tells me to, he does things like this and we send him fifty bucks a month until he's feeling as if we treated him well. Steve is a contractor, mainly flooring but also fencing, mechanical stuff, whatever it takes to put food on the table. And between real jobs he does things like this.

 So, anyhow I know this would have cost a couple-three thousand dollars that I simply don't have. And between me and the other folks Steve does this for he gets a hundred and fifty- two hundred bucks a month, enough for a nice dinner with his wife or a trip on their Harley every so often. A good deal all around.  I'm not exactly sure what I did in life to deserve a friend like this but I'm blessed. Wore plumb to a nub but blessed.

 We found what happened to the washer, the field mice that enter the house ate through the hoses. and flooded the joint. Had to get dogs, couldn't get a mean, mouse eatin' cat, no, had to get dogs. Anyhow, next time I call Steve it better be an invitation to go shootin'!

 I'm going to be busy for a while, cleaning the crud and dog hair that formed around the piles of stuff we had no room for. The way my health is I can only work around ten-fifteen minutes on my feet, then I need to sit until the back spasms quit.  Then another ten-fifteen minutes, lather, rinse, repeat. If I had known I'd live this long...

Nothing Much

 Not much to talk about right now. The big deal is that my mechanically minded pal came out and we fixed my lawn tractor, then I half killed myself mowing the full acre that my neighbor lady and I have. Her late husband was out in the Texas high summer mowing his lawn with one of those little electric push mowers and I offered mine. This was right after they moved in and the grass was powerful high. Well he liked that so much better than the push mower he offered to mow both our yards with my mower. Naturally I jumped on that like a chicken on a June Bug. Then after John died his widow, Patsy kept it up. Well now Patsy is sick and the mower died. We got it fixed and so I mowed. And mowed. And then mowed some more. and Monday I'm gonna have to start all over. I shoulda moved to the second floor someplace where the yard wasn't on me.

 And Patsy doesn't quite trust herself to drive so we took her for her doctor appt. yesterday, we were in that Dr. Office from 2:30 to nearly five PM and it wasn't because she was waiting, either. It took that long for the consult. This afternoon I'm taking her to Rockwall to the Open Imaging place where she is going to have four different tests. I do not know how long this will take, I'm not gonna hang around, though. I'll drop her off and go to Half Price Books and the Verizon store and buy some minutes for my phone, then off to Micky D' and sit and drink coffee and fool around with the laptop. And get a couple of their cheap fish sammiches. Don' ask why but I like them.

 I'm kinda in withdrawals I didn't get online at all yesterday. I don't know what is going on in the world without my Intertoobz! And no www.nakedchubbygirlswithlowmorals.org! Of course I won't be there at MickeyD's either.

 Anyhow, Linda Lou is recovering from her knee surgery. Later this year I think I'll be able to start going to Cowboy Action matches again.

 So, anyhow, I'll be writing something when I have something to say. Meanwhile I'm curious. The Obama Regime is doing it's level best to stir up racial strife. Funny, every time there has been heavy racial strife this last hundred years or so, the Republicans have won. After the resurgence of the Klu Klux Klan during the Progressive Wilson Admin we had Republican sweeps until FDR. Then after the riots of the '60s we got Nixon. I'm wondering if this "brain" trust isn't smart enough to know history or if he's gonna try to stop the elections. That would be interesting. The Secret Service is under Napolito (sp?), a creature of the Obama Regime, the U. S. Marshall's are under the Courts. Now the SS are sworn to protect the Constitution, would they let the Marshalls drag the Regime out in cuffs? That would be their sworn duty. Now I don't recall, persactly, the rank structure of the Marshalls Service but among police and sheriffs the usual thing is that from the rank of Lieutenant up it's all political. Some extra crooked towns like Chicago it's from SGT. up. So the bosses and those in the plum jobs would go with the Regime, the rank and file types would go with the Constitution. I wonder what Chinese type cursed us with the old "May you live in interesting times".

Hail Mary Full Of Grace

This is the last picture we could find aftermoving the pics from the e-mail to the confuser. here really ought to be a way. We ha a great pic of Meleah and her frst daughter, along with Robin and her. Still Stephanie and Dean and the boys are coming by so maybe they'll be able to help. Meanwhile, the mower keeps stopping and so I didn't finish yesterday it's and raining today. I'm going to nap.

Pictures From NASCAR Country

I have no idea who that girl in the fancy dress is, some friend of the kids I reckon. Somehow we got that instead of the nice pic of Mary Grace. I'll try again later. The other pic is Robin and meleah's boys and their new baby sister. Please don't ask where all the other pics are. We got them, they're somewhere in this computer in an album that I cannot upload. Grrr! Please don't ask about the underlines and the blue font. I dunno.
I'll try again for those other pics. Those boys live in the heart of NASCAR country. For some reason I'm supposed to be somewhat vague about their exact whereabouts so I'll just say they live where one famous team is. And the blue font is gone. Well, okay.

Obama Dogs The Economy

Oh, and by the way, I'm plumb tired of all the "Romney tied his dog to the top of the car" stories. Sorry, folks, I live in Texas. I see dogs in the back of pickups all the time, they LOVE riding outside where they get the full blast of smells as they motor along. On top of the car? In halfway decent weather it'd be doggie heaven. The Romney pet had one bad time, when he got the runs. Well, dogs can actually have kind of sensitive digestion and the change in water, etc, can give a dog's innards a tough time. And so the dog throws up. Or poops. Or both.

Some years back I took Captain Fatbob, the Black Pug of Doom and Rex, the full grown German shepherd that had been abandoned when the husband decided he liked cocaine better than his house, wife, kids, dog and job from here to Phoenix to live with our oldest boy and his wife.In my PT Cruiser. With Linda Lou. With all her stuff and this was for a wedding. Linda Lou cannot go down the street for an outside BBQ without a suitcase. An overnight trip needs four suitcases for her and a spare pair of socks for me. I can understand the dog on the roof and no, it wasn't cruel, as long as the dog got exercise and food and water regularly.

And Obama eating dog as a kid?Don't care. Obama eating the whole damned economy as an adult? The mass of petty officials trying to eat our freedom. I care.

Home Safe

I drove up to Plano to pick up Linda Lou yesterday. I must say now that the President George HW Bush Turnpike has shortened that drive by a considerable amount. Anyhow I got Linda Lou into the car, Bingo T. Pug was glad to see her. I got her home in one piece with only a couple of stops for a script for her and some buttermilk.

Mainly I've been mowing since then. We've had so much rain that it's almost a jungle out there. There are places where no once can see Princess standing upright.

For some odd reason I cannot get the pictures to move from the mailbox to "My Pictures" where I can upload them to blogsplat. So, Linda Lou has them in her desktop. Tomorrow while she is watching TV she'll upload them and then I'll write it up after mowing some more. There are huge spots in our yards where I cannot cut a whole foot swath at a time. So, naptime.

Oh, Linda Lou can't be up for very long yet but she can already move on her walker better than before the surgery. So, more later.

Panic!

So it seems Linda Lou will be able to come home from the hospital tomorrow. And the mower got fixed enough to run. I cannot mow the full acre of mine and my neighbor lady who usually mows with my mower. Seems that she somehow broke a few ribs some time back and didn't know it. So she had some muscle aches and her daughter, thinking she was being nice, bought her a deep massage. Oops! This rebroke those ribs that were healing, Now she isn't supposed to do much so, it's my turn for a while. Meanwhile the grass is over a foot high because we couldn't get the stupid mower to run, Grr! And the little alternator on the mower doesn't have enough left to keep the battery charged so it runs for a while and then I have to push it back to where the cord for the battery charger will reach.

Naturally I also have to do something about the house, too. And here I am, online. Oh well, that's important, too. After all I have to somehow remove www.nakedchubbygirlswithlowmorals.org from this computer. Mm. Low morals. There was a time when I really valued that in a woman.

Oh well, I'm agonna rinse all the dishes in the sink, fill the dishwasher and that's about all the cleaning. I got real energetic last week and cleaned up her bathroom. That ought to count for something. Actually I ought to already have the Hero Husband First Class Medal, with swords and Palms.

Okay, breaks over, everybody back on their heads! Somebody tell me again why I moved out to Resume Speed, Texas for my retirement.

Update: We got the mower running, sorta. The grass and weeds on our combined yards are well over a foot high due to the mower going on strike, along with the rain every few days. So I mowed until dark, got near a tenth of the acre mowed. Okay, maybe a little more. The grass is so wet it's almost impossible to mow. Sigh.

I Knew The Schools Were Failing but

So the leaders of the New Black Panther Party are calling for an armed revolution and race war.At least the BPP of the '60s and '70s wanted a general battle, the left against everyone, these clowns are calling for a white vs. black war.

I reckon they don't get out much, they just look around the self-made ghettos they hang out in and haven't bothered to notice they're outnumbered some eight to one. Nor have they figured out that there ain't no food in da hood except what is brought in , brought by people working for companies owned mostly by whites. So, dear NBPP peabrains, you'll only be able to get to the whites stupid enough to live near you and once you start that you'll be stuck in your stinkin' cities with nothing to eat and everyone outside your self-made slums ready to shoot back. Idiots. Haven't even learned to count.

It looks as if Linda Lou is recovering faster than we thought she would. . She is already making laps around the exercise gym at the rehab hospital, I forgot to ask if she was able to move on a cane yet. I suspect, though, that she's still on her walker. Anyhow it looks as if she may come home as soon as Tuesday.

I got about ten pictures of Mary Grace in a couple of e-mails but, for some reason I cannot figure out how to move them from the e-mail to Windows Photo Gallery to Blogger. So I quit worrying about it until Linda Lou gets home and we'll try again. Surely there is a way.

Mary Grace

We heard from #2 son back in the NASCAR country in the North Carolina hills. They had their fith child yesterday morning, finally a girl. A nice big girl, too, 22 inches and nine pounds, eleven ounces. We can afford her to be cute, if the good Lord wills, she'll have four big brothers.

With that that news I suspect Stephanie will be wanting to try again for a girl. with her three boys. Oh, and news such as this is why we'll win in the long run, lefty types tend to have one designer baby, late in life.

This afternoon they are putting Linda Lou in the wheelchair van and taking her to a rehab center close to the hospital Linda Lou is being held. Looks like about thirty days or so there. I'm going to take the last of the month's money and fill the tank and go see her tomorrow, take her some more clothes and her own wheelchair, a couple stuffed pugs, maybe some books. We're still trying to dig out from how deep the last hole I dug, driving back and forth to the hospital and skipping bills to buy gas, this time I'm leaving her there and not spending money we don't have, visiting. So, this time, none of that. Bingo T. Pug is just going to have to miss his Momma.

So, I'm single for the next month. Seein' as how I'm too broke to go chase a nice chubby girl with low morals I'll just stay home and eat stuff my doctor doesn't wish me to. Speaking of stuff my Doc doesn't want me to eat, think I'll thaw a little steak.

Granddaughter pics when they come available. Mary Grace. Nice name.

Linda Lou Update

I spoke to Linda Lou earlier. Yesterday she managed to walk to the bathroom on her new knee and walker. Big plus there.

Then last night her heartbeat slowed way down, she passed out and her blood pressure went in the toilet.

When last I spoke to er she was getting three units of blood but was cheerful. In other news the tornadoes passed us by here in Resume Speed, Texas. They hit all around, Meanwhile, here it rained like a brown cow peein' on a flat rock, wind blew like um, a high wind and the dogs had a fit, scared them so bad they pooped all over the house. Well, maybe that was because I poured too much bacon grease all over their kibble.

I had visions of taking the fast flight to Oz but we came out fine, trees in one piece, the car undamaged and everything. Thank you, Lord.

And thank you, taxpayers. Now that we're officially old Medicare is our primary insurance. Our Secondary is the policy from our working lives. Funny, we're still paying bills from Linda Lou's hospital stay when she broke that ankle when she was just a child of sixty-four. Now that she's a grownup her Medicare pays most and her postal retiree policy pays the co-pays. Of course the policy costs eats up more than half of LL's pension check but, without that policy we'd be under the lake.

Anyhow, we're all still kicking, the dogs are fine and the Trespasser Dog is visiting while his mama is visiting some of her kids and grandkids. Had to get dogs. If only I had got some other kind of critter, like a goldfish I'd have been able to stay up there with our daughter and her kids (and hubby) and been up there with Linda Lou. As it is I have enough gas to go pick her up and bring her home. Thank the Lord that Stephanie and her twin brother Micheal are close by the hospital.

Oh, and that bacon grease? I had most of a package of bacon getting too old in the fridge. So I cooked it all, ate more than my Doc would like to hear about, gave some to the dogs and tonight's dinner is a big baked tater with real butter, real sour cream, a mountain of cheese and the rest of the bacon. Calories, blood sugar and cholesterol don't count when Linda Lou is in the hospital. That's SCIENCE!

Still Waiting

So I'm sitting in the hospital, some 78 miles from home, waiting for the Pro From Dover to replace Linda Lou's wonky right knee. This Orthopod is supposed to be just about the best in the area and as such, he's always overloaded. So we are three hours past time for the surgery and we're still waiting. Poor Linda Lou hasn't been able to eat or drink and she's just about read to kill someone. Unfortunately, I'm handy. I ma not survive Linda Lou if the don't come and take her away soon. Oh well, If she kills me she'll be able to walk on her new knee in the exercise yard.

Here We Go, Again!

Well, Wednesday was my birthday and now I am officially a Senior Citizen! I was pretty busy that day, I had an app. with the Dermatology office over in the next county and then my drivers license had expired. Since we get our retirement checks on the last Wednesday I also had to do the shopping.

Normally I go to the county seat of my home county, the drivers license folks are in an anteroom off the lobby of the Sheriff's Dept. My rural county is such that there is NEVER a line at the DMV office, the next county over is still in the Dallas Metro Area and the line was a mess. Still, I had hair in my last picture and so I didn't do the mail in or online version. Anyhow in this fancy big city office I had to stop and go back to my car because of my two inch pocket knife. And then wait, and wait. And in the benighted rural America it takes about ten minutes and I suspect I could walk in with a Bazooka and nobody would care. Remember when everyone had a pocketknife? Remember when they were considered useful tools? Not like the useless tool running Washington. And that bunch has killed more Americans than every pocketknife in the known universe.

A Five Guys burger joint opened up there and so, after buying a month's worth of groceries I called Linda Lou and asked her if she wanted one. So I bought her a big bacon cheeseburger and a "small" order of fries and drove straight home and got her food into the microwave for a short jolt to reheat it. Linda Lou said it was real good but at over ten bucks for a cheeseburger I won't be going there often. Actually I hated the place, the kitchen is right there in the open and there is more yelling and hollering in that kitchen than is in a big-city jail.

I wonder why folks don't understand a quiet meal anymore. Ah, no wonder Obama likes the chain, it reminds him of "the hood" he wants everyone to think he knows. Me? I've been yelled at enough in my day, I don't need any more, thank you. 'Specially I don't want to pay to hear a bunch of folks hollering at each other in a small room. Anyhow I didn't have a burger, I went home and ate a pastrami sammich on rye with half of those "small fries". Happy Birthday, Peter! I did not bake a cake. A cake is a waste with just the two of us. Or, if we don't want to waste the cake it goes straight to our waists. Somehow some things were easier with a houseful of kids.

The Dermatologist wanted to scrape my nose with a scalpel where there is a small spot, and did that biopsy thing with another spot. When I was a kid the sun was supposed to be good for me. That's why I stay out of the sun now, so that sixty or so years from now the sun I get now will cause me trouble than. My plan is to live a thousand years or so, so far, so good!

Linda Lou went back to the orthopedist doc and her fused ankle is doing fine. It's everything else that's a problem. So, Monday they're going to replace one of her knees. Then in a while they'll replace the other one. For now they just did a cortisone shot in the one she's keeping.

Today we went to the hospital for her pre-surgery stuff. She's going to the guy who is one of the best orthopedist in this part of the country so we have to drive a helluva way to do anything. So I woke up at around bedtime to get there and have been discombobulated all day. Oh well, I woke up earlier than Linda Lou and her alarm so had time to fix a big breakfast. Fried Mexican choriso sausage, drained almost all the grease, tore up three corn tortillas and put them in the skillet and let them get about half cooked and finally, three eggs and added cheese until there was too much, then put a little more in. Don't tell my doctors. Serve with salsa. Sure was good. If I ate like that every day I'd have to sit down in shifts.

Anyhow, Linda Lou will be in the hospital for three-four days and then, once she's able to do stuff like walk to the bathroom, she'll come home. If she can't walk, presumably on her walker or crutches, she'll go to the rehab place until she can. then home, physical therapy , etc. The Cortisone shots on her "good knee" will keep her going until the next round. Depending on how much of our insurance we use up this will be later this year or even next. It's not the hospital, it's the physical therapy, we only get X number of hours per year. Oh well.

Anyhow I'll be out of pocket until Linda Lou gets back home, she handles the checking account via computer and will have the laptop and, more importantly, the wi-fi card with her. So, I'll be offline. We're gonna find out what kind of withdrawal symptoms I'm gonna have. Can I live for a few days to a week of no www.kinkychubbygirls.org?

In other news I'm still wondering what on earth the Democrats are doing to the black community and why the black Americans put up with it. From Andy Jackson to the end of the War of Northern Aggression, the Democrats were the Party of Slavery. After the Civil War they came up with the Klu Klux Klan to control black citizens and to keep them from full citizenship. This lasted until the WW2 generation got tired of it and black men and women fought back, and some died.

Then, magically, the Democrats became the Party of Civil Rights. Since the day after Democrat George Wallace "stood in the schoolhouse door" to try to deny black children a decent education the whole education establishment has been a Democrat racket. And the cities where the vast majority of blacks live are controlled by Democrats. The results are stark. The Democrats are STILL the Party of slavery and segregation, now with different words but even worse results for blacks. And blacks are voting for it. and the "black leaders" are leading them to their doom. Men like Sharpton, Jackson and others have grown wealthy off the crumbs from the white Democrats table while the children of "their people" grow up in neighborhoods more dangerous than Damascus. It's enough to make a grown man cry.

There was a term for Jackson and Sharpton back in the day, "House Ni***r". Some things haven't changed since the end of the Civil War.

I've been trying to write a real post about this since before anyone ever heard of Trayvon Martin, back when they formed "blacks for Obama or whatever they called that outfit. Obama and Holder, speaking f House Ni****rs. Has no one even noticed what Obama's friends did to "affordable housing" in Chicago? Has no one seen what happened to black unemployment since the end of the Bush Admin? Has no one noticed what Obama and that incompetent bomber Bill Ayers did with the Annenberg Challenge millions? Lenin was only half right when he said the West's capitalists would sell him the rope to hang them. The blacks voting for this bunch of slavemasters would be insulted if one called them capitalists. Even the rich ones. Anyhow, every time I've tried to write that post I've gotten too angry to write.

My poor country.

I Few Things I Wish I Was Smart Enough To Understand

Like most folks I've been trying to follow this Zimmerman-Martin mess. I do not know what happened through the whole thing from the time Zimmerman hung up until the eyewitness called the local bluesuits. I do know that there will likely be a few people go to the House of Many Slammers from paying attention to the leftist media (but I repeat myself). The left is still saying this case has something to do with the stand your ground law. They are saying Zimmerman was released from custody because he was allowed to shoot because he was afraid. I'm curious. What will happen when some poor sap who believes NBS or the New York Grimes and blows away someone on account of being afraid?

Anyhow stand your ground only says you do not have to retreat from somewhere you are lawfully, it says noting about laying on the ground getting your head bashed.

I read something from Mas Ayoob about how Zimmerman's pistol was found when it was examined by the police.Seems it had a full magazine and a fired round in the chamber. This pistol being a semi-auto there are only three reasons for it to be in this condition. One, the gun was in such bad repair that the slide would not function to eject the empty and chamber a new round. Possible but unlikely. The forensics lab would have fired a test round so that the various LEO Blogs would have said something. Ain't nobody gossips like cops.

Second possibility would be the gun was jammed so hard against Zimmerman's body (or ground) that the slide could not function. This is not a normal way to shoot, the only reason to try to fire a weapon like that is if there is a hand to hand struggle.

Third possibility? Someone had the slide in a firm grip. Now Zimmerman would not have tried to grab that gun and I have heard of no others there but Martin. These second to possibilities have me leaning towards Zimmerman's story but nobody really knows. Including Congressman Rush.

Much has been said and reams written about how poor young Mr. Martin would be alive today if only Zimmerman had done this, that or some other thing. No one has bothered mentioning that poor young Mr. Martin would also still be alive had he not gotten kicked out of school for a week or two. He would have been around a hundred miles away, well out of range of a 9mm.

I wish I were smart enough to know why the leftist media, there I go, repeating myself again, is shoveling out all this misinformation. Why is Congressman Rush and the Revrum Jackson and the rest of that crowd whipping folks up into such a frenzy? If this actually breaks into widespread violence, well, I've always tried real hard to not pick a fight when I'm outnumbered some eight to one. Can these clowns not count?

I could sort of understand trying to whip up the black vote for the election but how much do they gain if, at the same time they alienate the Hispanic vote. Eh, maybe Biden is advising them.

Don't Pay The Ransom, I Escaped!

 I'm recovering, slowly, from the three little surgical procedures. I'm to the point of having no pain some eighty percent of the time. I'm doing more "work" than I should really be doing but I keep looking around for someone else and, whoa! There's nobody else!

 The good news is that even lifting more than I should the surgeon says I'm healing nicely, even if my belly looks like I did ten rounds with Rocky Marciano.

 Later: Linda Lou woke up and chased me to bed, I had forgot we had to go to a northern suburb of Dallas for our grandson William's Blue and Gold Dinner. So I went to the kitchen and turned the crock pot off and put it in the fridge. I had this four and a quarter pound boneless chuck roast, complete with a big ol' mess of stew vegetables. It was to the point of coming apart with the big spoon so it ought to be just fine if I put it back on "warm" until suppertime. There I was, with a Lift limit" of five pounds, messing this this. Oh well, I'm a married man, an early death is my only hope.

 I'm kinda lucky today, I hurt myself a little wrangling grandsons at the B&G Bash. At the end they were giving the helium balloons out to the little kids, Josiah, Steph's middle boy, decided to run madly 'cross the room while looking at the balloon and ran into a chair with his knee and took a big tumble. I probably shouldn't have lifted him onto my lap. Oh well, I self-performed the "turn your head and cough" drill so beloved of recruits and nothing tore. Oh, and Josiah is okay after some grandfatherly cuddling and some Momma kissing it and making it well.

 So, anyhow, pot roast tonight and leftovers for a few days more. We took some cell phone pics and I hope some other pics will be mailed from the other participants.

 So, here I sit, long past a normal person's bedtime.  the short nap I took after we got home has worn out so...

Razor Fight At The Blue Moon Lounge

So National Cut On Peter Week is over. One small hernia repaired, three Limpnas, a Squamous Cell Carcinoma and a Basel Cell removal and I'm more or less repaired.

I swear, the toughest part of the whole recovery thing is that I'm not supposed to lift anything. Ever try to have dogs and be unable to lift? Or buy groceries? Or cook? Bah. The second toughest is that the Vicoden for the pain constipates the old guy and that's no fun when one's belly has been cut open.

Oh well, the Vicoden has gone into the emergency medication drawer and I'm back on my extra strength Tylenol. Let's not talk abot the extra strength joy of plunging a tilet with said cut up belly.

So I look like the third place contestent of the Razor Fight At The Blue Moon Lounge. Meanwhile the folks at the skin cancer surgeon's office are of two minds about me. Seein' as how these procedures are long, drawn out things involving a whole lot of waiting around they ave snacks there, for free. They don't telly anyone about them, though, unless they're asked. Well, I'm the guy who tells everyone the Secret of the cookies, crackers and soups. So now they're having to buy extra stuff. Everyone but the accountant is happy about me saving them the hassle of hungry patients.

National Cut On Peter With Scalpels Week!

 So all my docs decided to do everything this week.  Tuesday I was in far north Dallas at a very smart surgeons getting a Squamous Cell Carcinoma removed from my forehead. This is better known as a skin cancer, it's one of several varieties. This coming Tuesday I have to go back and get another little skin cancer removed from my left temple. This is a different sort.of sore which name escapes me but is considered less dangerous than the one cut out yesterday.

 Today, though, was the big adventure. I went in and had a little hernia repaired where my innards were trying to escape near my belly button. Then, because I cannot just get fat like a normal old guy, no, I get these little (and big) things called Lipomas. Well, anyhow I had three on my belly that had more or less grown together so, while the other surgeon (not as smart as the skin cancer guy) was there, he cut those out too.

 The reason one of the surgeons is smarter than the other is the guy doing the skin cancer removals just about never has to drop everything and rush to the hospital in the middle of the night. Also, all the the nurses, aids and receptionists in his office are stone cuties.

 So, anyhow, I'm sitting around with humongous bandages all over me, still coming down from the assorted and sundry drugs. The skin cancer was a local, I never went to sleep. Today, out like a light. Woke up, well, came to, having not been allowed anything to eat or drink since, I dunno, maybe April 1953 or so, ragingly hungry and with one of those no caffeine headaches. I griped and said I needed coffee and a sammich, they gave me ice chips and a little baggie of wheat thins. I did not kill anyone, though, I reckon I'm mellowing in my old age.

 Eventually they told me I should eat broth the next couple of days. I mentioned something about broth's tired gray ass. So the nurse talked about the possibility being uncomfortable if I ate real food and I told her of the certainty of being uncomfortable if I didn't get something to eat. I won.

 Eventually they helped me get dressed and after I proved that I could walk the sat me in a wheelchair and the cutie wheeled me out the door

 Linda Lou cannot drive yet, she can barely get in the passenger seat, the driver's seat, the leg on that side can't swing up there yet.

 So, Patsy, my neighbor was kind enough to drive me. When we escaped from there I took her to a joint called Freebird's World Burrito. It was my first visit although I'd been passing the place for months saying I'm gonna stop there sometime and check it out. Well, today was the day. Oh My Sweet Lord. To get a burrito first one pick the size and type of tortilla. They start with sort of large and go up from there through large, humongous, and feed all the starving children of Asia that my Momma was always talkin' about back when I was a kid. I ordered the large and by the time that chubby little Mexican cutie was done that thing was the size and shape of a can of Campbell's Chunky Soup.

 It turns out that, unbeknownst to me, Patsy's son in law's best pal started the chain and she ate at the one down where he lives about every time she goes to visit. She did not know of the existence of this one. Anyhow, two people can eat a pretty fair dinner for ten to fifteen bucks, plus the price of the beer, if one drinks beer, which I don't anymore. I do eat though.

 And I had no discomfort from the real food. I did get some major league comfort from eating.

 So, from there we went to our little bantam weight supermarket's pharmacy and I turned in my scrip for some Vicoden, I sat there reading one of their magazines until it was ready and then we came home. It's kind of an adventure when one goes over speed bumps when full of new incisions. But with one of the Vicodens (I'm allowed two at a time but it doesn't hurt that bad) I do not care. Oddly I'm not sleepy, even though my sleep schedule is all cattywampus. I'm getting up when I'm used to going to bed. It's lucky that I'm only a pretend vampire, all my doctor's appointments are during daylight.

 So, anyhow, I'm kinda goofy from the meds but I'm not eating broth.

Cochise' Apache Princess And Bingo T. Pug

I don't have much to say. The Presidential Campaign has turned into a circular firing squad. Every one of these "debates" by the national "news" media is designed to give the Obama Campaign more ammunition.

At least Speaker Gingrich is fighting, I would hope that he'd learn that Mitt is not the enemy, Obama is. I realise that a candidate cannot go up against Obama until he has won the nomination but there has to be a better way to win the nomination than handing Obama ammunition.

 In local news I'm still fighting with the medications. The downside to messing around with trying this, that and the other thing is that each change takes some couple months to evaluate. So far the latest change seems to help clear up my thinking but has increased the tremors. Oh, and raised my blood pressure as one of the meds that we cut in half is a blood pressure med that "off lable" tends to help the tremors. Sigh. Anyhow we're working on it.

 And last, today: An open letter to Sarah Etheridge: Yes, Cochise Apache Princess is a half sister to your dog. Miss Priss is five years old and is from Cochise Apache War Chief and his Dam was Little Eagle. I'm not sure why you wish to speak with or (better yet, write me but I'm sure it will become clear if you do wite. I dunno what happened to the addy in my sidebar but, what the heck, it's:

 petdavis@gmail.com.

 Please don't tell Bingo very much when you write, he doesn't know he's adopted.

 Just so you know, if you know anyone who would like a good girl dog, I would love to find a new home for Princess. I'm afraid that my health will no longer allow me to really work with her and she's pretty much lost her training.