Texans, Yankees, and Arab Fellers

     I've always believed that Texas WAS independent of the United States. Since the end of the War of Northern Aggression Texas has put  systems in place that were designed to thwart intrusive Norté laws in order to protect its citizens. We viewed America as a minor irritant that could be ignored. Well, silly us, the Yankees started thinking they were actually running things, and when Obama took office it really got out of control. You see, as long as we had the Bushes, as bad as they were, they were still Texans. Well, sort of. Actually they are Yankees in Dallas Cowboy clothing, but it was the best we could do, OK? As a matter of fact, King George II was the Governor of Texas, and I personally thought he stayed in that capacity, but had to relocate to the White House to make it easier for Texas to run the US.  

     Anyway, where was I . . . Oh yes. This attitude worked pretty well until Obama came along. Now, Obama's skin color has nothing to do with anything. The main thing that is wrong with Obama is that he is a CarpetBagger! He homed in on Texas like a Prom Queen on a beer after the game. His entire world view is Yankee. Now, I'm being clever here, but friends and neighbors, that's really about it. You see, you have Yankees, and then you have DAMN Yankees. There are good Yankees. They hang around the pubs in Philly, drink beer, work at building all week, and laugh at our Texas ways with no malicious intent whatsoever. Then there's Damn Yankees who want to inject every weird idea Saul Alinsky  ever came up with into the mainstream of Texas life. Alinsky was from Chicago, Obama's from Chicago, you don't have to be on the honor roll at Texas A&M to connect those dots. 

     For Texas to maintain independence we have to do two things. One, at least try to stem the tide of illegal immigration. It's really bad folks. They pour over our borders every day by the hundreds. There seems to be no end. Law enforcement does very little to stop them. I suggest checkpoints at the border. Every time a vehicle comes across the border from say, Shreveport, or Tulsa, stop that vehicle and check the passengers! If it's two women or two men holding hands, turn them around. If they have any literature from some liberal movie star a full cavity search should be mandatory and if there are children in the car for God's sake buy them kids a plate of Bar B Q! 

     Second, we have to start acting like Texans again. We are NOT Americans, we're TEXANS! We were NOT a territory that begged the US to take us in, we were a REPUBLIC that annexed America. We do NOT buy into every weird idea that comes out of New York and LA, and all the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders ARE girls, thank you very much! 

     We won't be able to secede right away. We have to accept that. SOMEbody has to feed the "Huddled Masses Yearning To Be Free," and if we don't then who will? Kim Jong-un? No, we have a responsibility here. Just like a runt puppy, we have to ween them. It's not going to be easy, but we can do it.  

     If we can get our minds right, stop the illegal immigration, and slow the flow of cash from Texas to the US then we might just have a chance. We won't have to put them in FEMA camps. They already HAVE places like Detroit, Ferguson and South Chicago. The problem is to convince the Nortés that if they have it all figured out then just STAY there. We're doing just fine down here. Then, they won't have to worry about our guns, our churches, or our hetero-sexual marriages. Worry about them Arab fellers. They need fixing. Go fix THEM! 

SlutGirl

     I just love it when people try to figure out my moods or tell me how I should feel. And when they do it they WON'T shut up. They become so convinced in their own little mind of how my little mind works that should I suggest they may be off course it goes right over their itty bitty heads and launches out into space. 

    I don't know how it happened, but over the years I've developed a mindset that insulates me from the world. I laugh, but I simply do not get mad about anything. That's why when I write so much humor goes into it. I find it very hard to get upset about just about anything. I get disturbed when I run out of cigarettes, but that's about it. 

     I get a particular joy when I slaughter someone's sacred cow. Like the Walmart thing. It has become so fashionable to down Walmart that all one has to do to piss off eighty-five percent of the liberals is say that you like to shop at Walmart. Or Coke. Just look up all the videos on YouTube showing Coke can be used for anything from cleaning your toilette to rotting your teeth out. I LIKE Coke! On a hot summer day a cold Coke will pep you right up. I especially like Mexican Coke. They use real sugar, and that screws up liberals too. 

     But I don't let this stuff fester. I know a girl. She stays mad ALL the time. She builds these huge conspiracy castles in the air, and takes pills like jelly beans because she's bi-polar, schitzo, too happy, too sad, this list just goes on and on. Her main problem is that her mother never told her what a slut is. Hey, y'all know what Scotch Guard is, right? Well, long about when I was fourteen somebody sprayed me with Slut Guard. You take any given slut and she will screw everybody BUT me! You see, sluts do that to try and prove they're not sluts. Can't be a slut, they MISSED someone. Well, I'm that GUY!

     About five years ago I stopped taking life so serious. Consequently I "lightened up." I became a crusty old bastard with a jaundiced eye, so when someone tries to unload their problems on me I just listen, show empathy, and know in the silence of my heart that they are enjoying the attention. I NEVER give advice. Like SlutGirl. Keeps going back to the same boyfriend, who beats her ass and sends her packing. Then she pings all over town getting sympathy from various old men who seek her negotiable favors, then BACK to the boyfriend again for a fresh ass whipping, all the while reciting to him all the advice the other men gave her because she thinks that just perhaps THIS time, the boyfriend will be something different that all the other times. Come to think of it that's the definition of insanity, isn't it? I might be wrong here. She might just NEED all those pills. 

     Now, back to my original concept for this article. SlutGirl is JUST the type of people who try to tell ME how I feel based on THEIR dubious experience. It's actually entertaining to listen to them.  I'm sitting there with a big ol' case of "Don't Give A Damn Itus" and they're rambling on like they're formulating a paper for a PHD! It's just like George Carlin once said. Do you realize how many stupid people there are in the world, and half of them are stupider than THAT!  But this is why when a gun walk runs into Moms Against MALES I just remember SlutGirl, and quickly do the math. Swat them bees, swat them bees!

     So, my advice? Try not to let anything disturb you. The more practiced you get at it they less little things will bother you, and then it just works it's way right up the emotional ladder until you emerge into Happy. Then you realize people like SlutGirl were put here for your entertainment. Kind of like a little dog that chases its tail all the time. I don't listen to people like that. Now Puck, I listen to Puck! 

     

Refresher: Death by Cop 101

     Ever know somebody who just can't stop getting DUIs? One after another, and every time you see them in a bar you just know they're gonna make bail in the morning. Well that's the mind set of a lot of black folk these days. Boy! I played THAT race card pretty early in the game, didn't I. I do stuff like that. Anyway, we've already gone over Death By Cop 101, but I sense the need for a refresher course. Last time out I had to explain that you don't bull rush a police officer. Now we have a new wrinkle. You don't pull out a gun out and point it at their head either. 

     Seems a young man did exactly that this week, and he got to join Michael Brown and Treyvon Martin in their very exclusive club of dead rappers society. This one died for a pair of shoes. That kinda moves him to the head of the class. Of course there are demonstrations, and the obligatory grieving mother is paraded around talking about an empty plate at dinner and all that. Haven't seen an uncle jumping up and down on the roof of a car yet, but the day's still young. 

     I'm not going to suck up and say it is tragic the young man died. It frankly amazed me how he lived so long! What I'd like to talk about is how stupid the demonstrators are. Yeah, I said stupid, deal with it. Back in the day when Dr. King was leading people in marches and giving speeches there was a very focused reason for it. Voter's rights, fair housing, discrimination in everything from a bus ride to rest rooms and God knows what else. What Dr. King did actually healed a situation in America that affected all people, white and black. And he was recognized with a Nobel Prize! When you hit the streets because some thug gets capped during an armed robbery . . . Well, heeeere's your sign. Oh, my bad, they already have their signs. 

     Ok, don't point guns at off duty cops! As a matter of fact, don't try to steal shoes from someone in a parking lot. Go in the store and steal them right off the shelf, you'll live longer and in some county jails they may even let you wear them, that is until some big guy named Santos slaps you up long side your head and takes them away from you. Dudes! Just playing by the rules YOU set.

     The undercurrent to this whole sorry scenario is that if I had the young man sitting right here, right now he would ignore my advice. In his culture the shoes are worth the risk. He put his life on the line for a pair of shoes that would make him King of the Homeboys! When Brown bit the dust the demonstrators all marched around holding up their hands in a kind of "surrender" posture. I think it would be appropriate to have this cluster of wear a necklace with little gold tennis shoes around their neck. Or better than that, have the necklace, with  hands raised holding Arizona Tea and Skittles. Yeah, perfect! The absolutely perfect social statement for the entire Hip Hop generation. 

Be Sure Your Sins Will Find You Out

     Be sure your sins will find you out. Mr. Dorrill, my business partner in the 1980's used that phrase all the time. If you do something stupid you can bet it will come back at some point and bite you in then butt. So it is with Bill Cosby. I said in a previous article that he might have gotten laid in his life. Well, most certainly he did! I began to strip this onion and have actually done a bit of research and come to some conclusions. Now, y'all don't tell anybody that cause I don't want to blow my image but I do read up on some of this crap, and I read up on Bill Cosby. 

     Bill Cosby isn't a white guy, he's not a black guy, he's henacolor. He's kinda like an Oriole cookie. He created an image that frankly never existed. I have never watched more than fifteen minutes of the entire series of the Cosby show because I realized that it was Hollywood crap! Oh, you're all horrified now. Even the Klu Klux Klan will be burning a cross just for me! Hear me out. No black family lives like that. No WHITE family lives like that. John F. Freaking KENNEDY didn't live like that! That show floated because you WANTED to think that was the perfect family. Bill Cosby was an actor. Hey, Clint Eastwood never shot anybody either, ok? 

     If you are in the public eye you put forth what we call an image. You do this to make money. This image is almost never who you really are. All except John Wayne, he really was what you saw. Bill Cosby put forth an image of the all wise, ever present, perfect dad. Well folks, that was not Bill Cosby. And Jaquiline Brandt Witt was not iJackie, that was a character she played on YouTube. Only difference was Jackie knew she was acting and Bill Cosby tried to convince the public that he really was what you saw on the Boob Tube. 

     So what sins found him out? Was it sex? Nope. It was lies. Hey, lookee here, if you are in the entertainment industry, and you have anything at all on the ball you will get "opportunities." Women will throw themselves at you offering the only thing they have to give. They want to touch the golden calf and if they think you can put them there you'd be amazed at what comes out. I've been there. Women offering themselves in the hope that somehow I can put them in a position to take the ride. But Bill crossed the line. 

     If you have a young lady mesmerized why drug them? I have a hard, fast rule. If I'm drinking with a lady, and we're equally drunk all's fair in love and war. When she gets too far gone to understand what's going on that's NOT fair. That's rape! Plain and simple. You're telling me that a man with Bill Cosby's celebrity, and money, and intelligence can't talk a girl out of a piece of tail without slipping her a Mickey? Have I got a bridge for you and it's on SALE! 

     There are too many stories and they all match. Bill used drugs to rape these ladies. DUDES! That is so uncool. I, myself could never have sex with an mannequin, and I'm a redneck from Austin. You'd EXPECT me to do that! No, be sure your sins will find you out, and Bill's found HIM! 

A Christmas Story

     At Christmas my mind always drifts back to the house at Berry Creek. Berry Creek Sits a fault line, Balcones. Georgetown is about twenty minutes from Austin, but Berry Creek is more of a country setting. There's an eighteen hole golf course that winds through the neighborhood. We were on the tenth green. The first generation of grandkids played on the greens, ever vigilant for golfers teeing off. My granddaughter, Jo Jo would wear a little fireman's helmet backwards and shout, "Incoming!" whenever a cart approached the tee box. 

     The house was large. It was one of three that we owned in the neighborhood, but it was the largest. It was a copy of Elvis' Graceland. With four columns and a winding staircase. The entrance took your breath away. From the front door you could see all the way through and the huge picture windows afforded a view of the greens beyond the back yard. There were three living areas, an office and even a theater on the second floor. We would do evenings on the back deck, watching the golfers play through. 

     Christmas was a big deal in the house on the green. It would fill up with people. There was a sixteen foot Christmas tree situated by the curved staircase, and the grandchildren each year would use the stair case as an assist to dress the tree, which was spectacular!  Every ornament had a special meaning from someone's past from the ceramic angel on top to the "Wilbur" glass ball on the lower branches. 

     Christmas was twelve days, no ifs, no ands, no buts! With turkeys and hams and a full bar, the entire time was a feast. Guests would come and go, and sleep in the guest rooms, some spilling over to the two other houses on the same street. There was a golf cart and they would take moonlight drives on the course, and look at the Christmas lights which were beautiful. The season would extend until New Year's, and sometimes the house never slept. 

     When Christmas was ended it would take a while to take down the tree, and all the decorations. Little by little Christmas would disappear until next time. The smells would linger, sometimes until Easter. When the tree and all the trimmings were finally gone the house would seem somehow empty. Life would return to normal. 

     I don't remember the last Christmas. I don't know if there was one. I think God fogged that memory so that only the good ones remained. I go by there now and again but  it's not the same. The house has been sold and resold, seems no one finds happiness there. It's been renovated, of course, and I think that made the house angry so it took its magic and nobody can ever really fit in again. 

     In the end it was just Jackie and I. She called it our "pretty prison." Where we used to have more guests than chairs there were now empty chairs covering the porches, and decks. It was a bit like sitting on the deck of the sunken Titanic. And we watched it sink. One day it was gone, and the Christmas house was no more. But, you know, love lives forever, and I think if you sit on the porch at night, when it's quiet, you can still hear the children. The house is lonely, and waits for people who can never return. At Christmas my mind always drifts back to the house at Berry Creek 

CJ Grisham

     I first met CJ Grisham in Austin during a rally. He was carrying this big flag, a bullet proof vest on, and a bottle of Ozarka water, which is always a nice touch when you're in Austin. His eyes kept scanning the horizon, but what he was really doing was watching the DPS because unlike me he understood that he and I were not the craziest people on the block that day. When we finally got together we didn't talk about Open Carry. He is LDS and at that point in time my family was going through yet another little dance with the CPS while they tried, yet again, to throw all my grandkids on the auction block, so we mainly discussed family, faith, and how nice it was in Utah.

     CJ came to national prominence when some gumshoe up in Temple, Texas took it upon himself to rewrite the constitution one afternoon while CJ was taking his boy on a merit badge hike along some country road. CJ had his rifle with him, and, of course his completely legal, licensed pistol, fashionably concealed, by his side. Some lady saw him walk by and became "alarmed" by the presence of his guns. Now I'd like to interject something here. I understand that said woman was loosely connected with a "Casa." A Casa is a kind of holding tank where little kidnapped CPS kids go until a suitable pedophile can be found for a more "permanent" solution. You see, CPS steals so many kids that sometimes they develop a traffic jam. So, in my opinion, this tower of public concern was not so much worried about CJ's rifle as she was those dollar signs walking in front of him striving for a merit badge.  And I don't want to hear that there are good Casas,  I'm sure there must be, but there were good Nazis, too, yada, yada, yada!

    So here comes Barney with a donut in his mouth questioning CJ about his guns. CJ was very polite, but firm, and, well you know, in short order RoboCop served and protected him! Now I grew up mainly in Bell County so I'm a gonna say some,things here that are going to set some people on their ear, but here goes. CJ is not, to my knowledge a Temple native, though he may be, and he is LDS. He was laboring under the delusion that being a veteran who served his country in WAR, and a church going father out to help his son during a hike that he and officer whomEVER would most likely be on the same sheet of music. What he didn't know is all Temple cops are stupid. Now, they're not as stupid as Nolanville cops, but they're right on up there in the top five, I'll assure you. Copperas Cove cops are pretty bad, too. In fact, Killeen has a fairly good police force. I think the Killeen chief tells them, "Watch Temple, Nolanville, and Copperas Cove, and whatever you see THEM do, do exactly the OPPOSITE! 

     So here we have the perfect storm. A law abiding citizen out for a walk, a cop trying to rewrite the constitution, and a kidnapper rubbing her hands in fiendish glee on the sidelines. Arrests CJ, steals his guns, slams him down on the hood of the car and subsequently got him convicted of interfering with a police officer during the consumption of a donut, with is a very serious charge. They even had to import a judge because they had to find one who could read!

     There's an old saying, "The one you should have left alone." Well, that's CJ! He's a vet, he believes in God, he's honest, and he's a type number one capitalist who has supported his family and church and keeps his eye firmly on his goals. Well, his main goal was now the bastardized gun laws in the great state of Texas! You see, for all the western lore they took our guns away right after the civil war. In the so called "Wild West," Texans really never strolled into the saloon with a hogleg on their hip. Texas was never actually invaded during the Civil War. The Yankees waited until the war was over and asked permission to enter. But, we had to be disarmed because there was this little thing about us having been a Republic, and not really ever getting along with the Nortés anyway, you know, stuff like that. So we trotted around for a hundred or so years carrying Skoll in our pockets instead of a Colt. After George Hennard did his little skit on birth control at Luby's the State relented and let us have LICENSED conceal carry. Now, I'm gonna let y'all in on a little secret so don't tell anybody, but we'd been carrying anyway, we just didn't tell the Yankees.  None of this made any sense to CJ. He played by the rules and got arrested ANYWAY, so what good was the license in his wallet when you could lose it for spitting on the sidewalk? No good, that's what! So why not strip away the nonsense and just let us have our freaking GUNS back, and friends and neighbors, that's exactly what he did! 

     He devised a thing called the "Gun Walk!" An obnoxious event for an obnoxious law. Of course California had a field day with it, but the cops began to figure it out and little by little and the gun walks began to be mainstay, more normalized, and most people saw them for what they really were. It wasn't just about guns, it was about RIGHTS! It was a public statement that a police officer had no right to slam any citizen down on the hood of a car and then make up a law to justify it. It was about freedom of speech, illegal search and seizure, and the right to be secure in your person. I don't know if even CJ himself knew the can of worms he'd opened that day on that lonely Temple road, but Texas did! I've said this before, but it bears repeating. William Barrett Travis allegedly drew a line in the main plaza of the Alamo. Now, Yankee historians will argue with me, saying it never happened that way, but the fact remains that the men of the Alamo stayed! Well, I contend that Travis continues to draw that line and a few, a very few, are called to come across. CJ crossed that line that afternoon in Temple, Texas. And now the Dallas Morning News has nominated him for Texan of the year. It doesn't really matter if he wins. The very first time a young lady reaches in her purse in a lonely, dark parking lot after work, and is not raped and murdered, CJ just made his point, and Texas, you can be proud of that!

Race War?

     Reading the news this morning,  and kept running across the term, "Race War." Back in the day, when I was in high school, just after the Civil War, that term had weight. There were riots all over the place, you had James Brown recording, "Say It Loud, I'm Black And I'm Proud," and we had some REAL race baiters back then. About the calmest one was Malcolm X, and he was like Al Sharpton on steroids. And you think Ferguson was something? Them cats out in LA could burn you out QUICK! Ah, the old days! 

     And all during this time there were people screaming, "RACE WAR!" Oh, of course, being a bunch of Texas teenage rednecks, and crazy as a pack of outhouse rats, my friends and I were all up for this. Clint Eastwood even weighed in with a scene or two, one in particular where he shoots through a boom box to kill a black hoodlum. You see, back then we didn't have iPods, there were these big radio, tape playing gadgets that black folk would carry on their shoulders and stick there ear to the speaker . . . Don't ask me, it was a black thing.  We crackers just had the girl climb  into the front seat and turn on the eight track. 

     Now, with the unfortunate deaths of two NYPD officers we have that tired old ghost, Race War, rearing it's head again. So, let's look at some demographics. I love that word. Until last year when Doc Greene introduced it to me I didn't even know what demographics meant. I had written three books and never used over five-hundred words in my life. Turn on RER, instant literacy! Let's see, where was I? Oh, yeah, race war. So there is a contingent of the populace who would like you to believe that some day all the black folk are going to rise up is furious anger and run all us crackers back to England. I don't know what they plan to do with the Mexicans, but we'll just let them sort that out. Brilliant minds like Al Sharpton claim that all the problems concerning black people stem directly from the America of Shirley Temple. Of course slavery comes into play, although I really can't see a slaver paying very much for Al Sharpton. I'd buy Janet Jackson, but I digress. Anyway after this war is over the skies will clear, the Angels will sing, and white will be the new black. 

     So, just whom is going to participate in this war? Well, I don't think the black guy getting up at five AM in Austin, drinking his coffee on the way to a call center where he's a team leader at Sear's Holdings will be there. Nope, not him. Oh, he might work in one battle if it doesn't conflict with his evening with the guys at the Country Club. How about the black school teacher who worked her way through the University of Texas living on Ramen Soup. Nah, we need to count her out. Oh, I know. The black roofer who just got a loan for a new car and a credit card to fill the tank. Nope, his wife said, "No." Seems the revolution is losing steam. Let's look on the other side of the tracks. 

     Over in CrackerVille you can cross off about eighty percent right off the bat. The one thing we white folk all seem to have in common is a big ol' disgusting case of apathy. It's all very fine to get all outraged at the rioters up in Ferguson, but that lasts about, um, two beers, and then the football game comes on. That REALLY removes Texas from the mix because if JESUS comes back He'd  better not do it when the Cowboys kick off! So that leaves twenty percent or so that actually dwell on this kind of nonsense. The Second Amendment has a phrase, "A well disciplined militia . . . " Did you ever try to make sense out of a bunch of old drunks in a biker bar cracking moldy race jokes? Well, there's you white army. 

     In order to have a war you have to have a fairly well defined demographic. There's that word again. You have to have a common people, common language, and borders are always real nice. Race plays into it because it's nice if you all look alike, too. Now, this has to be real race. Hitler made up a race, called them Aryans, and we all know how that worked out. He had this little thing about borders too, but a few countries with REAL borders straightened him out on that one. So where are the borders in this upcoming race war. Is Harlem going to invade Long Island. Let me think. Harlem is not all black, and contrary to myth, Long Island is not totally Jewish. Nope, no war there. I know, Detroit can jump on Chicago! Nah, too spotty. Ok, last chance. The South shall rise again, and all them rednecks are gonna take down Pennsylvania! We have a problem Houston. Almost NObody retires and moves up NORTH. If you're looking for racial purity you are NOT going to find it in Alabama. 

     Looks like our Race War is falling apart. You want to know why? Because it's not gonna happen, that's why. Behind every flare up, where the term, "Race War" comes up, you'll see some type number one capitalist skipping merrily to the bank. And they're all different colors. There are blacks like Al Sharpton, whites like David Duke, and then some like Michael Jackson where you're not quite sure. I know, I know, Michael wasn't a racist, but just had to throw that in.  Fact is you will NEVER see a race war. 

     One good thing that came out of the civil rights movement was the merging of cultures. We began to understand each other a bit more. In almost any Texas bar you'll find blacks and whites sharing beer AND race jokes, and they're all laughing, because almost NObody buys into that crap anymore! Heck, I'll even have a beer with a gay guy, I just won't go to the bathroom at the some time he does, that's all. 

     Americans have realized that it's not race that is the issue it's economics. It's a government that has ignored the constitution, and set up royalty in Washington DC. It's little short, fat foreign leaders who can switch off American companies as easily as you turn out a lamp at bedtime. Let's fix all that and THEN worry about complexions. I yearn for the day when Al Sharpton gives a speech, the crowd breaks out in laughter, and leaves for the Hockey game. But, for the time being don't expect any race wars. If you really think that's going to happen have I got a BRIDGE for YOU . . . and it's on SALE!

     

My Buddy Kim

     I have a new hero! Kim Jong-un! That's right, I Crappith Thee NOT! You know, the little short, fat Jap with the super model wife? I just said that to set off the liberals. I know he's Korean, but those people all look alike to me. Somebody STOP me! Anyway, I digress. It seems there was this movie. You've all seen the promos. Two guys go to interview this rice burner and the CIA tries to get them into a plot to assassinate Kim. Now, let's move from rice paddies to ivory towers, shall we? 

     Hollywood's been on a roll ever since Dennis Hopper flipped those two rednecks the bird in the final scene of "Easy Rider." I recently watched that movie again. I was amazed at how dumb it really was. Peter Fonda going around with that aloof look on his face and all those deep, philosophical lines, that made absolutely no sense at all puking out of his mouth. (Good thing his daddy was rich, huh?) They were searching for the real America until they found it, and got shotgunned off their weird, California motorcycles. After that it was all downhill for Hollywood. No subject was taboo. If anything was held sacred by the American people you could bet Hollywood would make a film about it, pervert it, and call it art! Oh, there were a few shining moments. "Patton" was one, but the promo twisted that. "Hero or villain?" True to the anti-war agenda they had to slant the promotion of the film by trying to say, "Yeah, we know it looks like this guy was all American, but we didn't mean it." I wish they'd made a movie where Patton blew Peter Fonda off his motorcycle. 

     Then here came the Internet and shows like The Young Turks. Now, don't get me wrong, I watch the young Turks, but not for content. I just like the chick with the expanded chest. God, I hope she's not a lesbian! SOMEtimes they'll make a good point, but before the segment is done you can bet they will screw it up! Let's see, good point, fairly well laid out . . . WHOMP! Dey it is! 

     And while this garbage spews out of California, people who have their heads screwed on fairly straight wring their hands and lament the content as Hollywood implies that Jesus was a polygamous bi-sexual who faked his own death in order to get a good job in Rome! Well, enter my little buddy Kim Jong-un. Sony pictures takes it upon themselves to make a film poking fun at him, which isn't really all THAT hard, I mean LOOK at the guy. He LOOKS funny. And he pays good money for that haircut! He's four foot nothing and loves basketball . . . go figure. He's got that bombshell wife and those itty bitty feet. That's a Texas joke. You Nortés ask your mama and she'll explain that one to you. Anyway, the North Koreans haven't got much and Hollyweird ripped that up. So what does ol' Kim do? Does he kidnap one of their executives and send his head to the Oscars in a hatbox? Does he blow up the Hollywood bowl? NO! He hacks the beJESUS out of their company until they actually pull the film. Now, if that's not cool I'm not a white boy from Austin. A stopped watch is right two times a day, and Kim was spot on. He gets the honorary rice bowl award for the ultimate film edit of the year. 

     SOME body had to bitch slap Hollywood and Kim showed them a Cyber-fu move like they'd never seen. And did you see how fast they tucked tail and ran? Even I was amazed. If that's the only thing he leaves to posterity he's made  his mark. And I know that he's a fanatical despot, but aren't they all? He showed Sony, as Bruce Lee so aptly put it, "The art of fighting widout fighting!" Ah SO! 

The Chicken***t Factor

     Got into a deep discussion with Michael Bee tonight. Now Michael's a historian. He looks for patterns and historical benchmarks that tell us where we're heading, based on where we've been, and that's all good, I suppose. He's real big on trying to make people understand that protests and sign holdings will not sway events. Like the Occupy movement. Much ado about nothing, and he's right. But I began to understand that's the way it's always been. Caesar made a difference. The masses in the Coliseum didn't mean squat. Always been that way. The sad fact of the matter is the people don't mean much when it comes to changing history. 

     You're never going to get the masses to move in mass. There is a natural inertia ingrained in the populace. What with just trying to make a living such things as revolutionary change slip by the wayside. Once a revolution starts, and seems to be working, people tend to join in. Everyone wants to get next to a happening guy. The American revolution was like that. The people involved were actually a very small percentage, but when it was a done deal then America, America, God shed His grace on thee. If we'd have lost it would have been God save the king. 

     Michael is a brilliant man but he has never figured in the chickenshit factor. Most people are chickenshit. They won't move until either the movement is sure to win or their butts are on the line and they have to move. That's called human nature. It boils down to this. If this Texas independence thing is going to work it's going to be a few nuts that make it fly. You're never going to see crowds of people behind you. If the IRS is ever going to be ended some people are going to have to go to jail. The so-called "people" are not going to rise to the occasion. 

     Michael is disappointed with the chat rooms. Well, that's what chat rooms are for. Most people there are looking for diversion. But, if you look closely you'll see one or two like me, and let me tell you brothers and sisters, I'm open for business. I intend to tear the government down, stick it up Obama's ass, and see a new Republic of Texas. It's very simple, actually. I don't have that many years left, and if I don't make it, well, someone will read an article and take the torch. 

Shopping Tips

     While I try to follow the party line I reserve the right to make my own choices. When someone tells me not to like something I always weigh that advice with my own criteria. That, and my political correctness barometer is set to zero. I never do something to appear correct to prying eyes. Here's a list of my personal likes and dislikes. You don't have to follow these, just do your own thing, ok?

Walmart

     I like Walmart. It's big, it has stuff I want, and the carts are always charged up. Sometimes I go to Walmart just to ride around. I grew up in a town with very few choices as far as stores went. With Walmart I can go to one place and buy anything from a hamburger to a book to a beer. I don't care about low wages. I care about "falling prices." Now Walmart employees are for the most part brain dead. That's why they don't make much money. You don't pay idiots in the six figure range. I have actually asked where a particular item was while positioning myself right in front of the item and been told, "That's not my department!" That's ok with me. I KNOW where the beer is!

HEB 

     For those of you not in Texas HEB is like Kroger's on steroids. HEB will put a store right across the STREET from a Walmart and compete head to head with it. I don't like the fact that HEB uses Mexican illegals, but I do like the fact that most of the checkers are young, pretty girls. That always enriches my shopping experience. Especially when they help me take my stuff to my Mercedes.  I mean the SEE the beer, wine and cigarettes, and they SEE the car, but I digress. Texas girls are delightful. The meat is good. There's even a "Better cook this TODAY" isle where the prices are quite low. The employees know a lot more about the store than the average Walmart employee, but that's all good. I KNOW where the beer is!

Starbucks

     I don't like Starbucks, and it's not entirely their anti-gun stand. Their coffee is too damn high! I can buy my OWN Expresso machine, thank you very much. When they allowed smoking on the deck that was cool, but they stomped out the cigarettes long about the same time they ran CHL holders off. So I'm sitting there thinking, when this place gets robbed, and it will get robbed, I'm going to be standing before a firing squad without even a last cigarette! Starbucks politically corrected itself right out of my wallet. 

McDonald's

     In contrast to Starbucks a senior coffee at McDonald's is around forty-nine cents. You can get the fancy coffee and they're more expensive, but still beat the hell out of the Mermaid place. Oh, forgot to tell you, I don't like the Starbucks Mermaid either. Nothing to do with Satanic cults, I just don't like women who smell like fish. Anyway, McDonald's has biscuits and gravy. I like that. I'll get crazy about twice a year and eat a Big Mac. Eating McDonald's all the time is not good for you, but an occasional McFish won't kill you. McDonald's provides entry level jobs for lots of kids. That does NOT influence my decision to eat there. I don't care who they hire so long as they don't spit in my food. 

Any Privately Owned Mexican Restaurant 

     If MaMasita is doing the cooking and her daughters are waiting the tables I'm IN! I always get the combination platter. Prices are right and most likely the food is real food. Amazing how such a skinny plate can fill you up. I don't eat Taco Bell. A few years ago when they had that little exposé about silicon in the beef and the CEO actually admitted it, and went on to explain how silicon is used safely for breast implants, also, well, I prefer my titties ala-carte. 

Korean Owned Used Appliance Shops

     Koreans are the most industrious people on the planet. If you can get all the pieces in a box they can make it work. The prices are negotiable and the warranty is simple. If it breaks, and you,didn't break it, they'll come out and fix it. Now, I don't like Korean Real Estate agents. Don't use them!

Corporate Barber Shops

     Prices are too high. I use a Korean shop and the barber's daughter rubs my neck 

ANY Online Dating Service

     Oh don't get me started. Friend of mine got me to go on Plenty Of Fish. I was honest in my profile and found Plenty Of Whales. That, and every transvestite in Nigeria. I KNEW better. I'll just pick up girls from HEB. 

     I could go on but I think you get the idea. I'm getting old now so I'm probably set in my ways. There are things I didn't get into like biker bars, I like them and Sushi, I don't like that. If you use my simple rule for personal preference your choices may be different from mine, but you'll be a lot happier. 

Spot On

  

   I just love it when I'm spot on! I try to boil issues down to a manageable level, and sometimes I'm accused of not seeing the true complexity of the modern world. Well, silly me, I'm just a simple ol' boy from Austin, but when I see little things like giving guns to the Mexicans it's just not that complicated. Just yesterday another one of my prophecies was fulfilled by Texas Monthly Magazine. Way back during the campaign I made a note that just maybe, Wendy Davis' views might not be palatable to the average Texas voter. It was a simple observation, really. Wendy was pushing all the Norté buttons and began running all over the state campaigning like she was up in New York or some place. I even had a couple friends (women)'who swore by her. Now these two voters were of the liberal mindset, i.e. vote for Obama because he's black, vote for Davis because she's a woman, you know the deal. Anyway there's no swaying them.

     I was kind to Wendy during the campaign because one, she's a lady, and I'm always polite to ladies, and two, I'd hate to piss off a possible future Governor. But you know there is a Murphy's law of stupid. It goes like this: In any given situation where two people are pitted against each other you can count on one of them doing something so stupid that it defies logic. Now ol' Wendy knocked the ball out of the park on this factor. While Gregg Abbott was out running Austin traffic in his wheel chair, a very good commercial I might add, Ms Davis was releasing a book bragging about not one but TWO abortions she'd had in order not to inhibit her career. Sitting there like she had good sense running dead babies up the flag pole two at a time. Now Wendy was the darling of the East Coast liberals. She won their hearts during her filibuster in the Texas Senate. You remember that. That Herculean effort she put forth while having a catheter installed? Nothing like having a Senator talk for eighteen some-odd hours with a bag of piss between her legs, but I guess that's the kind of thing that turns some people on. 

     So she comes out with this book talking about her abortions. Next she found a show stopping move that topped it all. Now save your fork, folks, this is gonna get good! How do you follow up a couple of brilliant moves like those? Well, you do the demographics and find that Texas has a very large percentage of Mexican American voters. Now just how do you get those people to swing your way. Why you take a trip to the valley and try to convince these CATHOLICS to start killing their babies! Never mind that they are traditionally Democrat anyway, forget all that, go down there and expound on the beauty of an abortion clinic! Like the HomeBoys in Killeen say, "Whomp! Dey it is!" Heeeere's your sign! 

     Democrats started bailing on her like their hair was on fire. I saw it the moment she did it, and I put it into an article. Naturally, there were those who told me it wasn't all that simple, and there were more complex issues. Nah, just the absolutely stupidest thing she could have done. I think Gregg Abbott actually stopped actively campaigning at that point and began preparing to move to the Governor's mansion. Gregg subscribes to my tweets by the way, <Wink> which means in all likelihood he read that article. 

     So now we have that lovely cover of Texas Monthly showing the Right Honorable Wendy Davis stepping in a cow chip. Gosh, Texas Monthly, that's too simple. The campaign was far more multi-faceted than THAT! I just love it when I'm spot on!

Quiet Afternoons

     I love quiet afternoons. Afternoons like today. Weather is perfect. Made an early dinner. I'm a simple guy. I boiled some water with five meatballs in it, dropped in the Mac and cheese and voila! Redneck health food. The meatballs were the kind with all those ingredients that make politically correct people cringe, but I don't care. I grew up poor, and my dad was a Cajun. Now, let me clue you in. An old Cajun will cook guts. It's not all that bad. We'd have liver and onions one day, and rice with liver gravy the next. Brains and eggs. A Cajun can cook almost anything. Squirrels, rabbits, slow tourists, you name it. And meat wasn't a vital part. Poke salad! May-hauls (and I know I spelled that wrong) that were the little apple things that floated in the swamp. 

     One thing I could never eat was a frog. Daddy would eat some frogs, now. Picture this. He's sitting there with his brother eating frog legs and the frog's heads are sitting there on the sink BLINKING at them. That's a whole new level of screwed! And the frogs were cool with it. They had thus calm look on their faces, just blinking away. Frogs are weird like that. 

     All the kids got to eat first and the adults last. That's Louisiana! The kids would chow down and daddy would "sop" up some gravy with a piece of bread. Nobody sops anymore. One more little piece of America lost. I don't think I ever saw a steak until I was in high school. Oh, we had "round" steak, but that's not really a steak, it just some crap they shaved off a cow's ass. Hey now, get this . . . Dog Bone Stew! I crapith thee NOT! Daddy would go down to A&P (That's gone now, isn't it?) anyway, he'd trot down down there and pick up some dog bones. They were left over bones from sides of beef being cut up in the back. Then he would bring them home and boil em up! Throw in a little rice and you have a first class stew. Now THAT'S the whitest trash you can be right there. 

     And health care? I don't know what the big deal is. In 1950's Louisiana there were two options. You got well or you died. Daddy would drag me over to Benton and some old VooDoo woman would blow smoke in my ear or make me drink sassafras tea. She taped a penny on a nail hole I had once so the spirit of Mr. Lincoln could draw the poison out. Come to think of it I'm lucky to be alive. 

     Dad got throat cancer. Oh, he took all that radiation nonsense, but when they gave him six months to live, and sent him home to die he went for a more holistic therapy. That was in 1974. He started eating Blue Bell ice cream and drinking whiskey every day. He died in '88. Mom got cancer, did what the doctors told her and lasted one month. That's why I have this psychological thing about doctors. 

     On calm afternoons all these things come back to me. I sit, and watch the sun set with a drink, and a smoke. Goodnight Puck . . .goodnight PaPa . . .goodnight Chris . . .goodnight NewBaby . . .goodnight Spartacus . . . Who let Spartacus in the HOUSE?

     

Training

     Did something interesting yesterday. As you know I'm a crusty old bastard and I'll do things like watch Iranian executions while eating pizza, but hey, that's just me, ok? Anyway, I'm surfing YouTube for videos, and I got to watching police videos where they shoot, kill, beat up, and verbally abuse everyone from street gangs to school teachers, and that's a lot of entertainment, but after a while the ol' brain kicked in and I began to ask questions. Now, as bad as I'd love to throw all these gumshoes under the bus,  I understood that they're not ALL bad cops, but the percentage was disproportional. I mean there's just too MUCH! 

     SOMETHING was a common denominator making cops act like they do. Let's look at the difference. Back in the day when you got stopped for a traffic violation you got out of the car as a courtesy to the officer. It's called "sucking up." If you made it easy for the cop you just MIGHT get off with a warning. Telescope that to now. Unless you've been living under a big yellow rock for the last thirty years you KNOW that if you don't show your hands and announce in a loud voice that you are reaching for your wallet you might get shot and the Grand Jury will exonerate the officer WITH a raise and promotion. Now why is this? 

     One word; Training. It has become accepted that the American public is dangerous, out of control, and either drunk or drug addicted. And what is training? Training is the programming of conditioned responses. We all have those. Your very muscles learn, and memorize things. You don't think so? If you are right handed, just try to operate a combination lock you've owned for years with your left hand. You CAN do it, but you'll be amazed at how hard it really is. What training does is condition and fine tune the responses we already have. Now here's where it goes wrong. 

     First, let's admit that most police officers are not evil people, but they have been told that these over the top methods are what's needed to protect their life and safety. When you install a trigger that trigger will pull with the same force on any situation that fulfills the criteria pre-programmed by some instructor during police training. The frontal lobe of the brain goes into park, and the survival core goes into over drive. That's how cripples in wheel chairs get beat up in jail. That's how homeless men in the desert get shot for waving a pocket knife and then turning to walk away. That's how twelve year old boys get SHOT two seconds after the squad car pulls up for reaching for a toy gun! 

     I'm not saying that the police don't have a dangerous job, they do. What I am saying is that they have traded common sense for training. The training itself becomes a legal defense before a grand jury. "The officer followed all procedures correctly." How many times have you heard that crap?The right or wrong of the action goes right out the window.  When six officers gathered around a homeless man on the ground and shot him, it's all good. They followed procedures. They were doing as instructed. We've seen this before. "I vas only following ordehs!" 

     And what are we doing while RoboCop is blowing the hell out of Suzie Sweetcheeks for jaywalking? We are kissing the glove, too afraid to even talk back! If you saw a hoodlum slam a teenage girl on the ground you'd probably find a brick and slam HIM on the ground. If you see a cop do the exact same thing you'd be afraid to even question his action. This reinforces the cop behavior. Every time they do this stuff, and don't get jacked they are assured the training worked. The training absolves all sin. What would happen if it were possible to bitch slap a cop for such actions and NOT do twenty years for assault on a peace officer. Ok, I hear all the jaws hitting the table. What would happen if just telling the jury that training was followed when you shotgunned a nun held no sway, but rather you had to explain where you put your brain that day? 

     Until we have those two things under control we will continue to see the atrocities like those in Cleveland, L.A. and Arizona. We have to stop just standing around with our cell phones making videos while cops do whatever they want. I don't believe Wyatt Earp ever beat up a teenage girl. I can't find one newspaper story saying that he shot one dog. I have read the coroner's report and I see no reference to one stray bullet hitting anyone not directly involved at the OK corral. But then, Wyatt wasn't a REAL police officer. He didn't have any TRAINING!

American Pie

     Watched the movie "Apollo 13" yesterday. I've always been an "Astro-nut." When I was a kid I sent for publicity packages from NASA. I got big manila envelopes filled with publications and eight by ten glossies of the astronauts. There were pictures of the earth from space, which was a big deal. If you grew up in the fifties with brown and green globes in classrooms, the image of the "big blue marble" was, well, revolutionary. 

     So, as I was saying, I was watching the movie, and right toward the end something occurred to me. As the men in the space capsule were trying to maneuver back to earth, not sure if the heat shield had been damaged by the explosion which aborted the mission, the entire country was on point. All eyes were glued to the news. America was one! There wasn't any talk on TV about the government messing up, or lying to us, or terrorist possibilities concerning what had happened. All that was on the table was those three guys were our heroes! The best of the best.   Three men reaching for the stars. 

     Then I began to wonder, what would have happened if that mentality had stuck? How would Vietnam turned out if the entire country had been behind our effort, right or wrong. What if that rag-tag army over there had watched news broadcasts of thousands of people standing behind the president and let them know in no uncertain terms that AMERICA was going to be there until the job is done? What would have been the result if after 9/11 we had jumped on Afghanistan and not got off until we HAD Bin Laden? Then, just tore up the country, and left after letting them know, one more terrorist attack and we'll be back! We don't CARE about your religion! Chew on a rock. And, I know there are some in other counties who say that would be American imperialism, but brothers and sisters, when you're trying to make a point nothing beats a good ol' number five butt whipping!

     The reason these things didn't happen was the government we trusted from WWII turned into a big, lie machine. The American people are not fools. They protest for a while, and then, when they get no results, they turn away. We all know the government is now by the banks, of the corporate interests, and for the foreign investors. I appreciate nations climbing out of the rubble of the last world war, becoming self sufficient, and all that, but the very idea of the Japanese building better cars than we do makes me want to puke! And I'm two-faced, too. I own a German built Mercedes because I KNOW the People's Republic of Detroit simply cannot build a suitable car anymore. 

     Now, where is all this going. Well, that's what the Republic of Texas is all about. It's not just the succession deal. It's all about bringing back America. We aren't a bunch of psychos running around in tin foil hats. Well, most of us aren't. The jury is still out on the Libertarian Party. We are people who are doing what the Yankees have forgotten HOW to do. We have crazy ideas. Ideas like half dollars with the image of Sam Houston on one side, and the Capitol in Austin on the other, made from SILVER! We think a man's income is his money and no government should lay claim to any part of it until he voluntarily spends it, and then that money is used where he was TOLD it would be. We believe a man's home IS his castle and if he abuses his wife and kids you call the police, NOT the CPS! We believe that people should be able to worship God in any way they want UNTIL they start preaching violence because then they have just crossed that line between church and state. Then they are no longer a religion, but a political party. We understand that when you write a constitution, with short, direct sentences, in simple English, and yes that's ENGLISH, you don't amend it to death just because it doesn't fit your agenda. We know that we won't have to have a constitutional convention. We'll just use the American one. They're not doing anything with it at the time. We believe that serving in Congress is an HONOR, not a profession, and we want men and women in the state house who don't UNDERSTAND lobbyists! And oh, by the way, being in congress shouldn't pay that much. You go to Austin, vote on this or that AFTER asking your constituents how they feel, then go home, back to work and live under the laws that YOU passed! We believe that government is like a bad dog that guards the yard, but when it bites one of the kids you take it to the pound. No government should ever be secure. TEXAS is TEXAS. The government just needs to pave roads, put out fires, serve and protect, and bus kids to school. Government is a raincoat. Don't let the raincoat wear YOU! 

     This list could go on and on, but I think you get the message by now. Some of you think it's unreasonable to imagine such a place, but I have to ask, "Why not?" Why do you want to give your money to a foreign government just so they can hire more people to come down here and rob you a little bit more?  That's what America has become, you know. The American government's lips are clamped so tightly on the Texas Tit, that if we ever pulled them off riots would break out from New York to L. A. They would literally starve! And I don't want to hear any crap out of a bunch of Nortés about how powerful America is, and how crazy Texans are. DUDE! Your MONEY isn't even real. Get it right! And, if you will note, when NASA was largely removed from Houston we had to start hitch hiking into space . . .with the RUSSIANS! 

     After seeing that movie yesterday I realized America, the America I was born in, was essentially  gone. I actually grieved. But then I realized something. It wasn't really gone, it just moved to Austin. 

     Oh, one more thing. One of my buddies on RER says I'm his favorite comedian. I haven't been very funny here, but have you heard the one about the two Rabbis coming into an Austin bar leading an alligator by a leash?

Liberals, Snake Women, and Fault Lines

     What makes a liberal? Let me count the ways. I just read the five dumbest liberal Tweets of the month, but one stood out. Cher! Now Cher was grown when I was in Jr High. I thought she was dead, but I remembered that was Sonny. I've never considered Cher to be a beautiful woman. Every time I saw her I kept thinking of some movie about a woman who transformed into a snake and devoured her mate. I really don't know where she calls home but I figure it must be California. 

     Ever wonder how people like Cher keep on keeping on? I mean her career is as dead as fried chicken. Well, they do it by becoming liberals. They get up in the morning and think, "Now, what's the stupidest thing I can say today?" and standing there are fifteen media outlets waiting with baited breath for every word that ejaculates from her pouting mouth. Must be true . . . CHER said it! And there is competition. I mean there's some stupid crap coming out of California. Only in California can you have a state where there are no vehicle safety inspections (DUDE, we even have that in TEXAS!) but, they try to pass laws to protect the sand in Death Valley! 

     Liberals LOVE California. Let me clue you into something. Not ALL Californians are crazy. There's about a twenty-five mile strip, along the coast, extending from San Francisco down to  San Diego where everyone is bat-shyt crazy. Everything else is Texas with better weather. Believe it or not, California is a farming state! Most of the state is stable. I have a theory. I think crazy is inflicted on everyone WEST of the San Andreas fault line. It has something to do with subterranean electro-magnetic forces on the hypo-thalamus. I Lived out there for a while, and I'll admit, I was getting a little crazy myself. 

     Anyway, I digress this is where untalented losers like Cher come from. They generate record sales in SoCal, and when the record sales die they go on late night talk shows and spew idiotic drivel. Cher is proof positive that there was at least ONE reason to keep SOME Indians on the reservation!

The Runaway Train

     RE:ligion! John Fogarty once wrote, "What you burn in your crazy mind." When the human psyche considers the universe, the meaning of life, the certainty of death and then afterlife it all becomes overwhelming.  Life is like being on a runaway train. You know how it's going to end and as that end gets nearer and nearer the choices become fewer and fewer. When the human mind tries to cope with such things religion is born. 

     Theology is man's feeble attempt to explain the unexplainable. When you look at the world we live in, and see all the injustice, and pain, you try to sort it out. You are trying to understand the path of the runaway train. Everyone, and I do mean everyone believes that their lives are influenced by something unseen. The theist posits a "God." The atheist holds to natural order, but whichever, all must reconcile their lives with the runaway train. We are born on the runaway train. It is not a choice. 

     Religion is a roadmap to help us manuveur down the tracks to the inevitable destination. We will all arrive. Just like we had no choice when handed the ticket, we will have no choice when the train pulls up at its final destination. When religion serves the coffee, explains the trip, and helps the train slow and stop in an orderly fashion it has succeeded. When religion makes the train jump the tracks, head into someone else's train, and destroy a lot of lives, it is no longer religion, it is chaos!

     This brings us to Radical Islam. Islam, by definition means, "Submission." Very simply put it is obeying what you think God wants you to do. The human mind loves complete circles. That's why you get a song stuck in your head. You know a piece of the song, and your brain is searching for the logical conclusion. When you arrive at it, the circle completes, and the song goes away. Songwriters strive to make simple circles. Islam was such a simple circle. 

     Islam is a very simple concept. Pray five times a day, don't eat any ham, and pay your bills. But, you know, there's always some guy in the back of the train  who just doesn't think that's enough. The train isn't going fast enough. People aren't sitting in the right seats, the engineer simple won't listen. What started out as the quiet urging of God's voice, telling that guy to sit as calmly as he can and enjoy the ride becomes a shout telling him that he, and only he can direct not only that train, but all the other trains no matter what track they may be on. 

     Bear in mind that most people on the Islam Express take their ride for what it is and only want the train to stay on the tracks no matter what speed it is going. These people are submissive. The radical passenger is not. He convinces himself that if he can just derail the train, and crash it into other trains that even if all the trains are not heading in his direction, at least he will destroy everything and THAT is what "God" told him to do! 

     The sad part is that all the people on the Islam Express will pay for this man's ticket. From the little clerk at the Quickie Mart, who always stocks his shelves with requests from his customers to the Executive in some high rise who hasn't seen a Mosque in years. As the train leaves the tracks passengers in other trains will look through its windows and all they will see is the shouting man. 

     Saint Thomas More had a legal axiom. If someone were to rise up with a dagger and stab a man, and there were one hundred men in the room who did nothing to stop him we could only surmise that the one hundred had concented to the action. However, human nature drives us to not be involved. The simple fact is all the people on all the other trains will try to survive, and if the Islam Express must crash and burn then the natural law demands that will occur.

  

     Is this right? Well, no. Can we change this? Right after I teach my Pit Bull how to meow. The rise of Radical Islam, and its eventual destruction are inevitable. When the fire dies down, and the bodies are counted from among the passengers the other trains will proceed. You know, God does have a sense of humor. He picks the engineers for the runaway trains, and to make His point they are usually a paradox. The engineer of one such train is Angela Box. You see, she is the exact opposite of everything Radical Islam rails against. Pretty little blonde with no veil. God does things like that. He deals us the unexpected. Kinda like that Jewish kid way back that knocked that giant guy  in the head with a rock. I think that boy was the first Texan!

Smoke Belching Ass Guns

     I've finally come to a center line on what Barak Obama is doing to the American public! In an article from "Today I Found Out" I learned that there was a medical procedure used in the 1700's, now work with me on this, and save your fork, for certain maladies, and even a test for death. Seems there was this bellows. The doctors had theorized that most times a confusion of the mind, constipation, consumption, and many sorts of illnesses resulted from the body being in need of being dried out. We would call it fluid retention, and as you know this IS a problem that a lot of people take prescriptions for even today. Well, noble ancestors had a quick fix. You see, they lit a cigar, filled the bellows with smoke, and inserted it, you guessed it, right up the old kazoo! I crapith thee NOT! Then, with a quick contraction of the bellows, the colon would fill with a King Edward ( or what ever they had back then) and the skies would clear, the angels would sing, and the patient would be up and running yet again! Uh, it worked particularly well for constipation. 

     Then it dawned on me. Somehow Obama got hold of this technique and using his power as President, he found a way to administer this en masse! It works like this, and if you're stupid enough to buy into alien abduction this should be a breeze. The CIA has these laser powered smoke guns. Any time Obama gives a speech the Secret Service has some guys looking like they're watching the President. Now, the smoke guns shoot this imperceptible smoke ring up to fifty feet. It can penetrate clothing, and find its way to the anal cavity where it does it's work on sedating the reasoning portion of the brain. It works particularly well on gay men. After enough time a great number of people have had enough smoke blown up their asses to actually effect an election. Obama's been blowing smoke up our asses for YEARS!  This also may account for the rise in colon cancer. 

     This is the only explanation for the acceptance of the American public of Fast and Furious, Benghazi, Obamacare and Obama losing those two sones that he said looked just like him! How can we fight this? Well, those who believe they have been so violated can go to their local pharmacy and purchase any number of stop smoking gums, pills, or whatever, and whenever Obama is in the area, before attending the event, just insert it into the proper orifice. This should alert the body and minimize the effects of the smoke belching ass-gun. This will not work for people in Ferguson because they've had so much smoke blown up their asses that the whole town caught fire! 

     You must always be aware that seemingly ancient technology can be adapted for a modern use. I'm going to be on the lookout for other methods used to dupe the American public. Until then, if you find yourself making sense out of anything Obama says just have someone sniff your butt. If it smells like a Corona . . . there you are!

Latté Anyone?

     I'm going to jump off into that old demon, racism, again today. Seems I shared an article yesterday from Glen Beck, yet again analyzing what the First Lady said that day, long ago, as the flag was being presented at a 9/11 memorial service. You all have seen it. She leans over and mumbles something. It has been construed that she said, "All of this for a damn flag!" Now, yet again, I'm just a simple ol' boy from Austin, but I just can't bring myself to believe that the First Lady, in public, with full knowledge that the cameras are recording every breath, would utter such a thing, so I just let it go. She's a WOMAN! She wanted to be at Macy's, with her daughters. Sheesh!

     Well, never to leave any stone unturned, Glen employed some deaf guy to read Michelle's lips and seal the deal. Only problem was it backfired on him. This man, who's everyday existence depends upon accurately deciphering what people are saying simply from a glance at their lips told Glen she actually said, "Look how they fold that flag!" I was actually pleased. This sort of statement would fit nicely into my view of a First Lady, so I shared the article, thinking that others would read it and see the logic also. Well, I got accused of being a racist. 

     Now, normally I'll just let this kind of thing blow by, but for some reason, my level of hangover this morning simply would not permit it. So, I took exception. First, and foremost, the article had nothing to do with race. Look at it on the surface. Woman whispers to her husband in a very public venue, video circulates through the media, people hanging on her every word, and pros and cons emerge about just WHAT was being said. What does her complexion have to do with that? Now, I'm not a real political analyst, but I just can't seem to connect the dots. All but ONE dot. I'm WHITE! 

     Yep, dey it is! There's the sign. If Al Sharpton had passed that article it would have instantly been understood that he was trying to vindicate The First Lady, but since I did it there simply MUST be a sinister motive, fueled by the Klu Klux Klan!  Nope. I actually watched the clip several times and was intrigued by the verdict. I put this entire episode into the same drawer as the "Umbrella Man" at the JFK assassination. You remember him. Some guy, standing precisely on the curb when the first shot rang out, with an opened umbrella. Yeah, that guy. No one else had an umbrella so the conspiracy nuts seized upon it and figured out he was some kind of signal identifying President Kennedy for the shooters. Never mind Kennedy was riding in an open Limo with hundreds of people screaming and waving and pointing cameras at him. Combine that with the fact that there was this chick sitting RIGHT beside him in a pink hat! The guy was dragged before CONGRESS to explain what the umbrella meant. Well, come to find out, it had something to do with the president's dad, Joe Kennedy, way back when he was ambassador to the Court of Saint James, rolling all the way back from there to Prime Minister Chamberlin, and the opening of the umbrella, at that precise moment was Umbrella Man's way of telling John F. Kennedy that his father was a prick! Gee, glad Umbrella Man wasn't black, huh? 

     So, here we have President Barak Obama, leader of the free world, champion of hope and change, tower of wisdom for the downtrodden masses, and the only defense his supporters can come up with is, "You're only saying that 'cause he's black!" Well, he's not black, he's more of a Latté! Combine that with the fact that he couldn't get a pizza order through Congress if he was paying for it and providing the beer! But never mind that, I must be a racist because I passed an article on Facebook. I didn't know national politics was so simple. I should run for President, I really should! 

God Moves In Mysterious Ways

     God moves in mysterious ways, but sometimes a little Head's Up WOULD be nice. Life if a roller coaster and the trick is to get to the end of the ride withOUT going off the rails, or falling out of the cart. There is no "formula." I just love it when someone tells me they have this method, one size fits all non-sense on how they and everyone else should run their life. I always watch them and save my fork because I know this comedy of errors is going to get good!

     I heard God's voice once, I really did. Back in the day, when I had testosterone, I took off on a blind date to New York City. I really did this, folks, you can't make this up. I'd met this girl over the phone during a call to a help center about my computer, and we'd become fast friends. How do you like that term, fast friends, <Wink Wink> After that, I needed a third floppy drive and the ONLY way I could get it was to fly up to Long Island and pick it up personally . . . from HER! ( See where this is going?) Now, I kinda had this wife and two kids at the time, but I didn't let THAT stop me, oh no! I made this whore-hunt look like a business trip. There really WAS a floppy drive, and I really DID develop a rental management program using the BASIC language, but I also really DID hang out at her place on Long Island for about ten days. Oh, one side note; my wife left me and took the kids. (This is my surprised face.) Combine this with the fact that I had a business partner who ate me butt first so my head died last. I'd flown out of Austin in a three piece suit and returned with my hair parted in the middle and an "I Luv NY" Tee-Shirt.

     It was pretty much downhill from there. I can't tell you what my assets were when I landed at JFK, but I can tell you a year later I couldn't even pay child support. Back in the day, and this was '81, there wasn't any of this Yankee-fied Attorney General crap. There was just Judge Black! I appeared before his Honor and he told me if I didn't bring him three hundred dollars by Monday he was a gonna throw me on the rail road tracks! I told him I was so broke that I didn't have a place to live and he let me know if I didn't pay him on Monday he would FIND me a place to live! 

     Well, the next night, Saturday, I acquired a bottle and stumbled out into the Texas semi-desert to die. See, I had this theory. I could just keep walking until the Beam was all gone and then be too drunk to find my way back. Oh, I'm sorry, you're wondering about the girl in New York? She dumped me, but I digress. Anyway, here I was walking across the prairie and I saw this oak tree. I sat down beneath it and began to finish the bottle. Now bear in mind this was a Texas suicide. I didn't really intend to kill myself, but I was really at my wit's end, and that's going it a bit because I'm a WITT! I never prayed. I had tried to read the Bible but none of it made any sense. Anyway, sitting there I looked up and asked, "Why ME?" In the wind I heard a voice. It may have been just circumstance, or the Beam, or a combination thereof, but I distinctly heard it say, "Because you had this one coming!"

     There was a Horney Toad crawling along and I picked him up. Now, I'm drunk at the time, so work with me on this. I asked the Horney Toad what I should do, and he told me I should go to Mexico. Let's see, Judge Black, Mexico? Well, that was a no-brainer. Before Monday I was in Nuevo Laredo. I can't tell you how many years it took me to get my boys back, but I did rebuild my life. Of course God does have a sense of humor and I went into the music business, but I've never cheated on a wife since, and I've had several. 

     The end result of this is I have a positive attitude. When I lose everything. and I've lost my butt so many times it's a wonder that I can take a crap,  I just look at it like taking a flight without having to worry about luggage because when hard times come I know there's something right around the corner. That's why I love people who have it all figured out. Here's your bottle, there's your tree, and heeeeere's your sign!

There was a father who had a son

He longed to tell him all the reasons for the things he'd done

He came a long way just to explain

Kissed his boy as he lay sleeping, then he  turned around and headed home again.

     God moves in mysterious ways . . . 

Watch Your Faucets

     One thing that bothered me about the Libertarian platform was the attitude toward drugs. Fundamentally I think this is where the party lost ground because no one with one ounce of common sense would ever subscribe to such nonsense. Wanting to legalize, and regulate marijuana ia one thing, but opening the flood gates for all manner of mind altering drugs from grass to spice is another thing all together. 

     There is a vast gulf between someone who holds a job, pays bills, and enjoys a joint on the back porch on a Saturday night, and someone who robs, lives in the street and their entire existence boils down to the acquisition of another "rock." We are not talking about the great Brinks robbery here, children, we are talking about someone who will slip in your yard at three AM to steal the brass water faucets from your garden to sell for one more rock, and don't argue with me because I've seen it happen!

     There will always be the weak among you. There will always be those who should not indulge in anything stronger than a cup of coffee. On the other hand there are those who drink gallons and are more productive than a Mormon Bishop. People come in many different flavors and one size does NOT fit all! Most normal people will confine their relaxation to alcohol and marijuana. Contrary to what your government tells you there are millions of people who use grass and would never be in the same room with coke. There are rednecks who work construction and never drink anything stronger than beer. Then, there is the subculture. 

     Call it Ice, Meth, Rock, Spice, or whatever, these drugs are all designed to addict and destroy. There is no such thing as "recreational use!" The user's entire life is the drug. These drugs have two things in common. They are cheap to produce and more addictive than natural substances. The user on the first use, thinks they can control it. Let me submit; what if practically every person who took the first sip of a cocktail became a full blown dysfunctional alcoholic within one month of that first drink? That's METH! That's what you're really dealing with. 

     The cartels are raking in the profits. The level of commerce and return on investment would make the old New York Mafia families blush. Their power is growing exponentially and their "rep" right along with it. A reputation is just that. It is a created image contrived to make someone larger than life. Verily, verily I say unto you NOone is larger than life. There is a ceiling. I've found one constant that remains true and never changes. All men can be killed. No gang leader is so omnipotent that one bullet will not solve his issues in the blink of an eye. Ask Billy the Kid. Oh, my bad, you can't. He's DEAD! So is John Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde and Charles Whitman. 

     We have to make the cost of dealing these types of drugs so high that the very idea of dabbling in them becomes insane. In Texas when someone is arrested for possession there is a particular charge that most of them incur. "Possession of less than a gram." This make it a lesser charge invoking state jail, or even time served in the county jail while waiting for trial. Now, let's do some math. 

     I can already hear it from the peanut gallery. "Oh, Wilbur, now you're talking about filling up the prisons with more drug users convicted of victimless crimes." Well, let me clear a few cells. Turn all the marijuana users loose. There! See how that works? Now, let's work on that Penal code. First time conviction of possession of these man made poisons . . . Ten years withOUT the possibility of parole. For people caught manufacturing and selling, capital offense with all the appeals we enjoy so much. 

     What about the business interests in Mexico? The militia is charged with immediate protection on the country when federal intervention is not practical. As Texans we need to serve notice on Mexico to get it right, and if they can't then we need to show them how. The so called "immigration" issue is a symptom, not a cause. The under current is the massive amount of drug traffic is the power source driving the flow of human traffic streaming across the border and THIS is the difference between Pablo in 1966 and Fernando in 2014. Remember what I said about reputations? That reputation will evaporate when those tanks come across the river between Texas and Mexico and the president of Mexico is served with a declaration of war. 

     I hate to be the first one to tell you this, but there's just no nice way to kill people. Mexico through weakness or design has fostered and proliferated the drug trade. The Mexican people are being held hostage and their so called"government," and I use the term loosely, does nothing to fix the problem. Now, I know the liberals will rail against this article. I know Obama doesn't have the testosterone or intelligence to take this action. I know it will most likely never happen, but it will work. Until then, watch your faucets! 

Get It Right!

     I never said I was set in stone. I never said I cannot be swayed by events. I am being swayed. Just watched a video where a lady lawyer was coming down on police for harassing a man. They had the address and block number wrong, and had some poor man on the ground. He was submissive and knew the deal. The lady dressed down the two cops, took the man by the hand and led him to her house. "Just because he's black doesn't mean he's here to rob a house! Now go find 4600!" 

     First things first. Michael Brown was a criminal. He deserved to get shot. He was a big, fat bully who thought he was the Hip Hop Hero. Now he's in hell. Mr Garner in New York was NOT a criminal. He didn't deserve to be traumatized until his heart gave out for selling a CIGARETTE! The protestors are right in their heart, but wrong in their methods. They are outraged but about the wrong thing. Too long have we kissed the glove. To long have we bent to the authority we've been told from birth is insurmountable. When you combine blind rage with a warped world view you get Ferguson. Accepting the idea that you should just be good and the system will work won't work. 

     There is no white privilege. There is no affirmative actions. Those are terms being served up by the ruling class. There is only Blue Privilege. Touch a cop, you go to jail. Talk back, you go to jail. Turn, and try to walk away, you DIE! And we're told that we need to understand the world the cops have to deal with? Are the American people that bad? Are we all so out of control that the police must behave like an occupying army? A co-ed is wrestled to the ground in Austin for jay walking and we accept? Have we lost our collective minds? 

     It isn't one case, or two, or three, it's every DAY! Retarded people being beaten to death. Drunk women getting their face broken in jail. Police screaming that they don't give a damn about the constitution. Blue Privilege! Where ten years ago we would fish for our wallets to retrieve our driver's license for a traffic stop we now stick our hands out the window like prisoners of war so we won't get killed, because we know ifmGrandma Moses gets her brains blown out the cop will walk away, to serve and protect. 

     Ok people, this is inSANity! These screaming, fat bullies must be put in their place. This has to stop. Yeah, the rioters have the wrong approach, but yes. they have a reason to be enraged. Like I said, Michael Brown was a criminal. I would have shot him myself. He needed shooting. He was a danger to everyone around him. Good riddance. But what about the others? The rioters are ignorant. They don't understand political process, or legislation, or the constitution, but they understand police who are out of control and when an officer approaches it is never good. NEVER good! Do you understand that? 

     This is not going to resolve itself in a short time. This is not going to be easy. This does NOT need the DC crowd chiming in. This is a STREET thing. Police brutality. Be it a man in New York making change selling cigarettes or C J Grisham on a lonely road in Temple, Texas, it is all the same! Do the math. There are more of US than there are of THEM! Take this country back! Get past your racial ideas and realize that. US vs THEM! Get it right people. Just get it right!

That Would Be A Whore

     Ok, this is where I make everybody mad. Well, not everybody, just the gays, women's groups, psychiatrists, fathers, mothers, and social workers. Is there anyone I missed? I've been reading about the Bill Cosby thing. Not really reading, I guess, just glancing at the tabloids while I'm buying beer and cigarettes, so I can't say I'm really on point, but I've picked up a couple of things. First off I have deduced that at some point in his seventy odd years Bill got laid. See, there goes the women's action groups right there. Anyway, I digress. Some woman, somewhere decided to take her knickers off for a mega star. (This is my surprised face.) Now we have what, thirty, forty years ago? Did she just notice? 

     Here's where I take out psychiatrists. If some girl accused me of getting an unregistered moment back in 1972, I'd just say, "Yeah. I did that, and it was niiiiice!" if fact I HAVE done that, and it was nice! The rules of engagement have changed so radically that it's no wonder Viagra has record sales. I, myself, simply cannot have an interlude with a woman while writing a contract. "You can kiss me, but don't touch me there. Ooooops, didn't say 'Simon Says!" (You've been screwing Simon?) like I've said all along if you want to dig dirt on me better bring a dump truck! I've done it all, and if I missed something it's only because no one told me about it or I'd have done that too! 

     My sister once jumped on me for putting a move on a cousin. I asked if she was pretty, because I honestly didn't remember, and she told me she was, so I told her, "Yeah, I did that." Well, she stomped off mad, leaving me looking at my horrified niece.

     "Did you really do that, Uncle Billy."

     "Nah."

     "Then why did you tell my mom you did?"

     "Well, I asked if she was pretty. If yes, then yeah I did that. If she was ugly I never knew her!" 

     What difference does it make who Cosby rolled in the hay with in a country where men marry men, women marry woman and dogs marry cats? In a country where we have riots coast to coast because a hoodlum got capped? A country where a famous singer gets dry humped on stage and it's heralded as a new dance? Where did this glimmer of morality suddenly come from? 

    Cosby's life is ruined, and you wanna know why? Because he's stupid. He bought into political correctness which is not correct at all. I still like Bill Cosby. I've laughed at his jokes, marveled at his essays and admired his accomplishments no matter who got the morning after jitters thirty years after the fact. And for the woman who took hush money, well, I'm just a simple old boy from Austin, but that would be a whore. There! That should just about take care of the rest of the groups. I should be a counselor, I really should!