Saturday, February 24, 2024

Happy Anniversary - Fourteen Years of Blogger Bliss!

It was about fourteen years ago today that a recreational substance entrepreneur living just down the street from us successfully defended his home and hearth from four armed and dangerous miscreants at three in the morning - the usual time for such things.  

I wrote about it here, and actually got two hate comments out of the deal.  So, that was the beginning of Mad Jack's Shack - and fourteen years later, here we all are.  Main Lady and her three little darlings are history, and have been for some time.  She sold her home in Sylvania, packed up, and moved to Saint Louis, Missouri.  Flopsy lives in the Big Windy and is still duplicitous and spiteful as ever - she's single, her one and only romantic relationship having terminated in a messy, emotional scene in her living room when the love fatal attraction of her not-so-young life wanted sex more than once a month with, of all things, the lights on.  Can you imagine?

Peanut Gallery: I'd rather not.

Ahem.  Mopsy lives in Saint Louis, Missouri, and somehow, and I really and truly cannot understand how, managed to develop a personality and a set of ethics that would make her a welcome dinner guest or drinking buddy at anyone's table.  At least, anyone who reads this hound of a blog and doesn't need six milligrams of Xanax and snowflake therapy afterwards.  I actually suspect Divine intervention here, there being no other explanation.

Cottontail, the youngest of the three, is a vegetarian, veterinarian, and animal rights non-activist (meaning that the rules she follows regarding animals apply to her, and not everyone else).  She's a very accomplished veterinarian, I'll give her that.  Anyway, she got married to QB-One, who turned out to be a bit light in the loafers - 

Peanut Gallery: Light?!

Okay, then.  He's gayer than a Hello Kitty! vibrator.  They got divorced, and when I heard about the situation I offered the loan of a shotgun and a box of shells.  I reminded Main Lady that buckshot leaves no ballistics, but to police your empties.  She hesitated a bit too long, but didn't take me up on it.  Note that I did not offer the scatter-gun to Flopsy, and no one I know would.  The mental fallout after the shooting cannot be imagined, even by me, and I have a vivid imagination.  I note that one man whom I've known for years, and who is gayer than Liberace on steroids, called QB-One a real son-of-a-bitch and said he ought to be tied to a pickup truck and dragged down five miles of bad Wyoming road.

Cottontail recovered and is off and running strong, which is good.  QB-One is living under an assumed name in Cleveland.  She got the house and the car; he got the first shaft he never enjoyed.

As for me, I'm in Columbus, Ohio.  I live in a condominium just off machine gun alley.  We had another shooting last week, but so what?  The Columbus PD published their homicide statistics for this year, and out of eleven homicides only one was white - a road rage case.  One was Latino, and the rest were blacks, and I'm talking real pavement apes here.  I think two of these have been solved.  The rest are being investigated.  Well, whatever.

I have one aunt and uncle who moved from their two story home into a ranch style condo, then from there into an assisted living facility.  They should have moved sooner, and didn't.  Uncle isn't happy about anything, as a series of strokes has left him unable to do much of anything.  Standing and walking are major issues.  Aunt can't lift anything, and actually has trouble standing due to a bad back - and by bad, I mean seriously bad.  Weather permitting, they go for walks next to a forest, listen to music and watch the idiot box.  Somebody shoot me if I ever get like this.

Right now, I have a good life, for which I'm thankful.  Thanks for reading.

Friday, February 23, 2024

Can you hear me now?

 Yesterday morning (Thursday, February 22, 2024) the unthinkable happened: Cell service quit working.  No texting, no Internet, no email, no various social media sites, no nothing.  The various providers just shut down.

I'm going to pontificate about this for a little while.  Read and enjoy as you like.

Sunday, February 11, 2024

Russia versus Ukraine: Where are we and what are we up to?

I've been following the Russia vs. Ukraine war on and off.  I lost a sawbuck when I bet that Russia would win a decisive victory in less than a year.  So, easy come, easy go.  Then I tripped over an empty bottle of gin and stumbled onto a piece by the irascible bleeding hearts at Human Rights Watch, and it got me to thinking - always a dangerous condition for me and anyone in the blast radius.

Why is Russia attacking Ukraine anyway?

Keep reading, including the bleeding heart snowflakes who would usually rather shove a handful of number two where the sun don't shine rather than read a paragraph of my insensitive ramblings.

Tuesday, January 23, 2024

A Speech Worth Listening To

People pass me links to speeches, sound bytes, books or articles being read aloud, and videos.  Lots of videos, all of which are dryer than my martini during happy hour.  Unless the video involves unpopular right-wing political opinions or firearms, I skip 'em.

Except this one.

This is Javier Gerardo Milei an economist who has served as President of Argentina since December 2023.   Milei has taught university courses in macroeconomics, economic growth, microeconomics, and mathematics for economists.  He is an author on economics and politics, and also hosted radio programs on the subject.  Milei's views distinguish him in the Argentine political landscape and have garnered significant public attention and polarizing reactions.

Here's his speech, translated into English (and several other languages) using HeyGen, an AI translator.  This is the best, most informative speech I've heard on government and economics in years, and I'm not exaggerating.  Give it a listen.

World Economic Forum Annual Meeting 2024

This is going to make professor Milei hugely unpopular with the moonbat set, but I really don't think the man loses much sleep over that.

Saturday, January 20, 2024

Alec Baldwin Isn't So Cocky These Days

As most folks who read this hound know, back in October 21st of 2021, actor Alec Baldwin was plying his trade on the set of a western film, Rust.  The scene was shot, literally, when the six gun in Deadeye's chow hook went off and cinematographer Halyna Hutchins dropped dead from a forty-four (no Hutchins, no more).  Director Joel Souza sprung a leak.

Story and commentary to follow.  Trigger warning: Never mind.  Just keep plowing on through.

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

Okay, this is nuts...

I can't take credit for finding this one, and maybe that's just as well.  This story was passed along to me by Big Mike, and I cannot, for the life of me, imagine just how he stumbled across it.  He doesn't smoke pot or imbibe in any other hallucinogens.

Imagine you're going to college.  You're going to get an education that will be the ticket to a specialty - PhD, MD, ADD, whatever, that comes with benefits and a big ticket salary.  Which you'll need in order to pay off the loans you wish you'd never taken out to pay for college in the first place, and then there's your college educated wife's student loans, and the lease on the SUV, and her car, the Tesla, needs new batteries, and she's pregnant - again.  And to make matters worse...

You learn that your beer-swilling buddy from High School, the one who told the school councilor, "No, Mister Champion, you're the lucky one.  You can kiss my ass and I can't."  Yeah, that guy.  He became an apprentice plumber, then a plumber, then opened his own shop, and now he has three guys working for him and it looks like his house is paid off.

All those years you were going to college, drinking beer, screwing co-eds (which is how you got married), sweating exams, and racking up thousands in tuition bills and student loans, your old buddy was happily going to work and watching his bank account grow, and his wife doesn't have a lot of crazy ideas about diversity, inclusion, and equity (DIE).

I don't know how I got here.  Okay, below the fold you'll find two courses that are, for real, offered at a real university.  No, it's not from The Onion.

Monday, January 8, 2024

The Proof is in The Shooting

Or not, as the case may be.  Cutting to the chase, I posted a brief, opinionated essay entitled  Packing Heat, and got a lecture on societal norms and morals from Glen Filthie.  Naturally I suggested that Glen go boil his head, but upon reflection I think my northern neighbor may have an insight worth listening to.

Consider these two bits of news from commercial media.  Be aware that my opinion is not modified to accommodate SJWs, special little snowflakes, anti-freedom liberals of any stripe, or weak-kneed, bull-dyke fearing, door knob sucking douche nozzles.

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Packing Heat

Our family has always had a loaded gun or two in the house.  Ever since I was a little kid, I remember the old man telling me in his best no-nonsense voice that this was real, this was not, and you don't touch the real gun.

I only made one mistake back then, and I didn't get larruped for it - although I might have, and no one would have faulted the parent.  My best friend, whose family were also gun owners, and whose older brother was a gun owner, questioned whether or not my father owned a pistol.  So I showed it to him.  I didn't pick it up, and I'd have stopped him if he'd tried, but we all know what we all know.  My thinking was that he was my best friend, and so qualified as a family member.  The aspect that applied here was that Timmy was something of a dunderhead, which I didn't realize until I was much older.  His father didn't think he'd make it through adolescence, and so took out life insurance on him.  His poor mother acquired more gray hair from Timmy's shenanigans than anything else.  The kid would try to beat out cars when crossing the street - I once saw a dump truck driver slam on his brakes, and another time my father did the same thing, in our driveway no less.  Then he severed several tendons while carving a pumpkin, and a few years later blew himself up while he and a like-minded friend screwed around with Sterno and live ammo Timmy had borrowed from his older brother.  There were other escapades, but I don't think they altered his mental process much.

I've digressed, but that was then and this is now, and the things people do still aren't predictable.  Which is why I'm packing my gat with one up the pipe.

Keep reading with the usual disclaimer about anti-freedom zealots and overly sensitive Lefties.

Saturday, December 23, 2023

Things Your Dad Never Told You

 I got this off an FB page, and reading through got me to reminiscing.  Evidently, whoever wrote this was thinking about Ward Cleaver or Ozzie Nelson.  This isn't the way things worked when I was growing up.

I was raised on a horse farm.  My parents had palomino show horses when I was growing up, and I learned how to ride.  I never liked it.  We had ten to fifteen horses, and guess who got to take care of them - yours truly, that's who.  I cleaned stalls, fed and watered them, and was the chief hot walker (see the expression rode hard and put away wet).  I also hauled sand and gravel in a wheelbarrow, chopped wood, did any number of odd jobs and chores.  This ten point meme got on my very last nerve, and inspired a reality check.  I don't know who had a father like the one described above, but I sure as hell didn't.

My reality is below the fold.

Monday, December 4, 2023

Noise That Makes Me Nuts

I caught this on Knuckledraggin' and liked it.  These days it doesn't take much to drive me right out of whatever remains of my mind, but rather than focusing on me (kind of like being fascinated by a train wreck), I'd like to hear from anyone reading this hound.

But first, a little background.  The scientific name for this condition (I read about it on the Internet so it really does exist) is Misophonia, sounds that make you bat shit crazy.  This could be pretty much anything, from the sound of the cat yowling for heaven only knows what, up to and including the budding musical genius next door who is learning to make noise with a bassoon.

Do you have a noise that you absolutely cannot stand?

For me it's boom cars, bad table manners, and eating while talking on the phone.  That last item is extremely offensive to me, and I won't tolerate it for any length of time.