Migraine One:

Read the previous post if you haven't already.  I got a call this morning, and stupid me, I answered it without thinking.

Migraine One.

RFI: Migraine One

The people who read this dog on an irregular basis, and who have done so for some number of years, will have heard of Migraine One.  This is a multi-ex girlfriend that I started dating when I was 21 and finally got shut of when I was about 30.  We had an on-again, off-again, relationship that could best be described as gasoline and matches.  The real problem with Migraine One is that she's neurotic with psychotic episodes and a drinking problem.

Keep reading at your own risk, keeping the usual disclaimer in mind: void where prohibited, no deposit no return, the sleeves will ride up with wear, do not use near fire or flame, and thin skinned SJWs, special little snowflakes, and affiliated moonbats will be triggered to the point of emergency psychiatric treatment.  I recommend Doctor Glen Filthie of Someplace, Canada.

What Goes On in the Office

In the year of Out Lord One-Thousand Nine-Hundred Ninety and Nine, I landed a contract with the state of South Dakota.  My office was in Pierre, (pronounced peer, as in long walk off a short...), South Dakota.  The regular building was being remodeled, so we got moved into a refurbished department store in downtown Pierre on East Capitol Avenue, which runs NW to SE.  I was on the South side of the street  Across the street was the State Capitol Building, Capitol Lake is a man made artesian lake, and further down (SE of the lake) is the governor's mansion.

The BLM Movement and Your Humble Host

Some silly bitch sent me an email a week ago, which I finally got around to reading.  The title of the email is How madjackshack.blogspot.com's users can safely support BLM online

Keep reading with the usual warning and disclaimer - void where prohibited, no deposit no return, the sleeves will ride up with wear, and thin skinned SJWs and affiliated moonbats should be offended to the point of mandatory psychiatric treatment.  Please note that the author of this hound (that would be me) is an ancient cissexual, cisgender, right-wing conservative, whiskey drinking white male, who is enthusiastically suffering from male toxicity.  He likes guns, down and dirty blues, and women of questionable moral repute. The only things in this world that he's afraid of are helpful government workers, mandatory vaccinations, and red-headed women - and the jury's still out on red-headed women.

Feeling Better

 I admit I was feeling a little blue for the past few days.  A kind of 'down in the dumps' feeling.  Then I read the Old NFO's blog and cheered right up.

Schoolyard Antics

This is old news, but I wanted the event to reach some kind of conclusion before I wrote about it.  The standard disclaimer applies.

When the Balloon Goes Up

 Unless you've been dead drunk the past week or so, you've heard all about the Chinese balloon that crossed the continental United States.  After a good deal of meaningless meetings during which one bloviating baby-kisser after another tried to make himself heard above the roar, the U.S. finally shot the damned thing down.

Everyone has an opinion, and I'm no exception.  Keep reading as it amuses you to do so.

Merry Christmas!

This is my official Merry Christmas! post.  Any of you who are not Christian, I'm wishing you a Happy Hanukkah or a Joyous Kwanzaa, whichever is most appropriate.  For anyone who doesn't fall into one of these three categories, label yourself and stop causing trouble.

In times past both my parents were alive, and we had a large gathering for Christmas dinner.  Among the eighteen or so guests were Uncle Sardonicus and Grandpa Parsimonious.  My old dad really knew how to pour a drink, and Uncle Sardonicus liked to bend his elbow and pontificate on politics.  Since he knew everything that was worth knowing, and since he was an idiot a liberal, these speeches could easily lead to a civilized disagreement.  Keep reading - trust me.

Private School in the Big Windy - What Will Your Child Get?

I caught this story on Knuckledraggin My Life Away (which if you don't read, you should).  You can check the link Oh, HELL NO!!!, but it actually leads to the story Project Veritas Undercover Highlights Chicago School Dean Bragging About Sharing Sex Toys with Minors in Classroom, as published on December 8, 2022, courtesy of The Conservative Treehouse.

Keep reading for a commentary and rant that is unsuitable for moon-bats, SJWs, and fragile little snowflakes.

The 'No Food' Diet - Coming to a City Near You!

Big Mike announced that he's stopped wondering why people do the bat-shit crazy, incredibly thick-headed things that often make the news.  If I wanted a modicum of mental tranquility, I'd follow his example - but I'm not that bright.  I'm the sort that will take my finger out of the dyke to see if she'll demand I plug her up again dike to see if the water will come out.  Then I'll repair to the nearest bar and have a drink or three while the storm drain system overflows into the next country.

This latest move by the European Union and the environmentalists pretty much puts them all on the city council in Crazy Town, at least temporarily, and could easily lead to a genuine insurrection.  Keep reading for half a rant, complete with a decent helping of testosterone fueled toxicity.

Moscow, Idaho Police at DEFCON 4

 And they should be at DEFCON 1 or 2.  Here's why I think that their standard operating procedure (SOP) is far too tolerant.

Banned by Nextdoor

 It seems there's a third rate social media site, Nextdoor.  People create an account there to get the latest news about their neighborhood, as your account also has your geographic location.  I got an account there a few years ago because of a crime problem, and that was that.

Until...

Rant warning.  Foul language and politically incorrect insults ahead.  Read at your own risk.  SJWs should take two milligrams of Xanax before continuing.

How Does Something Like This Happen?

I caught this one over on Knuckledraggin My Life Away (Where bad choices make good stories), which is an eclectic site that if you aren't reading at least irregularly, you should.  All kinds of good folks hang out there, and they'll make damned near anyone welcome.

The story, Two years later..., gives a link to an absolutely fiendish case of child abuse and filicide, which you can read in Former NYPD Cop Found Guilty of Killing Son.  

From the article:

LONG ISLAND - Former NYPD officer Michael Valva has been found guilty of murder in the death of his 8-year-old son.

Michael Valva, 40, allegedly forced his 8-year-old son, Thomas, to sleep in an unheated garage in below-freezing temperatures in January 2020, leading to the child's death.

Valva was found guilty on all charges against him, including the highest charge, second-degree murder.

He faces 25 years to life in prison.

An investigation by authorities had revealed evidence of alleged physical abuse and neglect by Valva and his then-girlfriend, Angela Pollina, between September 2017 and January 2020, including reports from the East Moriches School District alleging that on numerous occasions, Thomas and his brother arrived at school hungry, cold, soiled, or marked with scratches, bruises, and cuts.

This guilty verdict will not bring back 8-year-old Thomas, who suffered immense cruelty at the hands of his father, the same person who was entrusted to protect,  provide and unconditionally love Thomas and his older brother Anthony," said Suffolk County District Attorney Raymond Tierney. "While there is nothing that we can do to bring Thomas back, we are satisfied with the jury’s decision."

I've got many more questions than answers on this one.

Michael Valva was an NYPD cop.  How do you suppose he treated citizens he interacted with?  How the hell was this twisted, sadistic son-of-a-bitch allowed to get on the police force to begin with?

Then there's Angelina Pollina, Valva's significant other.  Two adult psychopaths in the same house at the same time, caring for children.  No one saw anything?  No one ever heard anything?  This situation is not something anyone wakes up some morning and decides to do.  Yeah, nice morning to start torture on the kids. 

Each one of these sick SOBs has parents, one way or another.  Both Valva and Pollina have a mother and father, and those parents know, beyond the shadow of any doubt at all, what their children are like.  I'd bet they also knew the abuse the kids were suffering and never said a word.

How does this crap actually happen?

How?

IQ, EQ, and Whatever...

 I got this off F**kB**k, and it came from some place in the Philippines.  Link to a FB page: 

Teresa Instructional Materials

From the blub:

According to Psychologists, there are four types of Intelligence:

1) Intelligence Quotient (IQ)

2) Emotional Quotient (EQ)

3) Social Quotient (SQ)

4) Adversity Quotient (AQ)

1. Intelligence Quotient (IQ): this is the measure of your level of comprehension. You need IQ to solve math's, memorize things, and recall lessons.

2. Emotional Quotient (EQ): this is the measure of your ability to maintain peace with others, keep to time, be responsible, be honest, respect boundaries, be humble, genuine and considerate.

3. Social Quotient (SQ): this is the measure of your ability to build a network of friends and maintain it over a long period of time (Ha!  Ha!Ha!  Ha!Ha!Ha!  Oh yeah, we sure see a lot of that these days).

People that have higher EQ and SQ tend to go further in life than those with a high IQ but low EQ and SQ.  Most schools capitalize on improving IQ levels while EQ and SQ are played down (which is a fucking lie, but keep going - MJ).

A man of high IQ can end up being employed by a man of high EQ and SQ even though he has an average IQ (In other words, you'll end up working for a popular, lying dumb-ass).

Your EQ represents your Character, while your SQ represents your Charisma. Give in to habits that will improve these three Qs, especially your EQ and SQ.

Now there is a 4th one, a new paradigm:

4. The Adversity Quotient (AQ): The measure of your ability to go through a rough patch in life, and come out of it without losing your mind.

When faced with troubles, AQ determines who will give up, who will abandon their family, and who will consider suicide.

Parents please expose your children to other areas of life than just Academics. They should adore manual labour (never use work as a form of punishment), Sports and Arts.

Develop their IQ, as well as their EQ, SQ and AQ. They should become multifaceted human beings able to do things independently of their parents.

Finally, do not prepare the road for your children. Prepare your children for the road.

The End.

She isn't serious.  She can't be, but what truly noble delusions she has.  Then reality sets in like a chainsaw.

If you believe what you read, the official average IQ is 100.  Anything below 80 is sub-human (I think Chimpanzees are around 70, porch monkeys at 75, Democrats are 76).  Genius level is 145 and higher.  Solid genius is 150.  Now me, having been tested and retested by an elite cadre of awestruck educational professionals quite early in my train wreck of a life, I'm around 110.  Likely 110, maybe 115 on a good day.  That means I'm just smart enough to know when I'm going to get hosed, but not smart enough to know how to avoid it.

My EQ, the ability to keep the peace with others (or something similar) is off the scale, mainly because the scale doesn't go into negative numbers.  Maintain peace?  Respect boundaries?  Give me a fucking break.

Now my SQ, my innate ability to build a network of friends and maintain it, fluctuates constantly with the state of my financial success or lack thereof.  You want to know if you've got any real friends?  Just party until your money runs out, and you'll find 'em.

Then there's my AQ, my Adversity Quotient.  It's off the charts in the other direction.  I'm not all that bright, I can't keep the peace with the other idiots I'm forced to share the world with, and I spend most of my time either broke or badly bent.  If my AQ wasn't off the charts high, I'd have shot myself and hit entropy sixty-five years back.  As it is, I'm a whiskey drinking gun owner with a bad disposition.

Can you blame me?

Crap like this gets on my very last nerve.

Off to Siberia for Political Reeducation

 I'll tell you one thing about Russia - they don't fuck around over there.  Over here in the United States we have civil rights which includes the almighty eighth.  It's probably not good for us, but the founding fathers thought it had merit, and maybe back then it did.

Amendment VIII

Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.

Over in Russia they don't have the eighth.  There's a few other things they don't have along with it, like humane standards (by U.S. definitions) for housing criminal prisoners.  They don't put up with much crap over in Russia.  I got this one from the Daily Wire, but it's pretty much all over the place.

WNBA Star Brittney Griner Sent To Russian Forced Labor Camp

From the article:

WNBA star Brittney Griner has been transferred to a Russian penal colony after being sentenced to nine years in prison for allegedly possessing cannabis oil, according to the Associated Press.

Griner was moved from a detention center on November 4, according to her legal team, but they do not know where the penal colony she will be transferred to is located.

First off, there is no allegedly about it.  Griner got caught with hash oil and pleaded guilty, presumably throwing herself on the mercy of the court.  Courts in Russia have no mercy as we in the U.S. understand it.  Being a product of a broken home and a criminal environment doesn't cut much cake over there.  Hell, what other kind of home is there?  Being black doesn't matter much either.  If I had to guess, I'm thinking it's more like a novelty than anything else.  Makes you easier to find in the snow, and that's a good thing where Griner is headed.

The judge sentenced Griner to nine years at hard labor, a sentence that most of the people reading this dog would not be likely to survive.  Hell, I wouldn't survive it.  A few of those Canadians might, but those guys are so crazy they actually go camping in the winter time, when the temperature's 80 below and the wind carries razor blades in it that'll rip your lungs out and freeze your whatzis off when you go outside to take a whiz at two in the morning.

So - nine years.  Not-a-president Bidet told his people to call Vlad's people and cut a deal, then wouldn't go for it.  The deal also included Paul Whelan, some super-spook with citizenship in three countries including the U.S. and a heavy rep.  No dice, I guess, because Griner's on a train to who-knows-where to start working the salt mines.

Griner's a professional athlete, six foot nine inches and two hundred pounds.  She's a flaming dyke who openly advocates banning the Star Spangled Banner from being played at all sporting events, in spite of being on the US Olympic team and winning the gold.  I'd think she'd be a little more patriotic, but no.  She said she's doing this as a protest over the whole George Floyd and Breonna Taylor killings.  Whatever.  Hell, the best thing George Floyd ever did, or ever would do for his family was eat his entire stash then resist arrest.

Nine years.

I'm inclined to let her rot, but it isn't my decision.  One thing is for sure, Bidet isn't going to spring her.  I'm betting he can't remember what he's talking about for five minutes.  President Trump, now, he might have done it.

I can just imagine the conversation between Putin and Trump.

Yeah, Vlad?  Yeah, it's me.  Oh, fine, fine... couldn't be better!  You? <pause>  Say Vlad, you know that big jungle bunny you got over there?  Black rug muncher, busted her on hash oil.  Yeah, plays B-Ball.  Yeah, I know all B-Ball players are black... yeah, I know white men can't jump.  No, I can't jump either... look, Vlad, I gotta get her back.  What'll you take for her?  <pause>  Okay, but I want the spook too.  Sure, I can do that.  Are you thinking a couple months?  More?  <pause>  I don't really care.  Make her appreciate the U.S. a little more, maybe.  <pause>  Okay, thanks Vlad.  Best to what's her name and the kids.  Click

If only.

You know, I'm wondering if we could work out a deal with Russia.  A sort of one-way prisoner exchange.  We sentence 'em, and let 'em do their time over there at hard labor.  I'm betting none of 'em would come back with the attitude they had when they left.

Officer Being Railroaded

Getting right to the point, LawDog, he of the The Lawdog Files, is being railroaded.  I got this from the Old NFO on his little slice of information here: LawDog Raffle Items.  The deal is that a pile of nice gear is being raffled off to help cover LawDog's expenses, and trust me when I say that these expenses could be extremely significant.

Shortening the news to one paragraph that everyone reading this hound can understand, LawDog's real name is Ian Hugh McMurtrie, and up until recently he was employed by the Texas Wichita County Sheriff's Department in various capacities, achieving the rank of lieutenant.  The 'Dog got into a dust up with a large prisoner and subdued him.  Given that the prisoner was large, strong, and an experienced brawler, plus was under the influence of an interesting cocktail of controlled substances, I'd say a hickory massage was justified, and I'd combine that with bear repellent and a cattle prod.  Ian didn't, but he did get the prisoner subdued, and the prisoner never filed any complaints about his treatment.  The sheriff doesn't see it that way.

Read more here, at Former Deputy Reindicted for Allegedly “fish Hooking” Inmate by Larry Statser as published on July 23, 2022.

From the article: As the inmate was being booked into jail, Wichita County Sheriff David Duke said the inmate was creating a disturbance, and McMurtrie responded.

The rumor here is that Sheriff David Duke holds an elected position, and is afraid that Ian McMurtrie will run against him - and win.  So, eliminate the competition.

My disclaimer is this.  I don't know Ian McMurtrie, AKA LawDog.  I've never met him in person, and I've only read him a few times on his blog.  I bought one or two of his books and read them, and based on that I probably wouldn't go out drinking with the man.  He strikes me as being a bit arrogant and something of a blow-hard.  That said, he should not be railroaded - which is what is happening to him.

The man has worked over twenty years in law enforcement, and you don't last that long by abusing people.  He's done a good job for the community, and so - buy a ticket.  Use the link here:

LawDog Legal Defense

My thanks to everyone for reading.

Halloween in the Nineties

 This happened back in the '90s when I was living with Main Lady and Excellent Rachmaninoff in quaint, historical Lincoln Woods up in Sylvania, Ohio.

It's Halloween and Main Lady has maternal instincts that kick in like an alarm clock on Monday morning.  I'm hep to this and so I'm on my best behavior.  I buy six pounds of candy at the store and a large sack of apples, then I open the front door and install a baby gate to keep the little trick-or-treaters on the good side of the foyer; I tie the dog to something so he can't get over the gate and savage the little darlings into six lawsuits and a SWAT team standoff - which he'd like to do.  The dog hated children.  He loved his family, but some people, like, for instance, Main Lady's sister, he didn't like at all.  In point of fact he actually bit the sister... 

So the dog barks, and Main Lady and I hand out candy and make cute comments about the little kids at the gate.  I was bored, so I had a whiskey.

A kid comes to the gate all on his own.  He's about eight or ten, but he's one of these tall, goofy types whose coordination hasn't caught up to his height.  He's dressed like the devil, horns, tail, red costume and all.  I walk over with the candy bucket in my hand.

"Look, it's the devil himself," I say in a stentorian voice, "Well shake hands - I've married your sister!"

I shake hands with the kid and I can hear his father laughing like hell out on the sidewalk.

Main Lady gave me the silent treatment for a while, but I didn't mind.

That's how I spent Halloween.

Flu Shot & Vaccination Warning

 I'm a believer in the effectiveness of the ubiquitous flu shot.  I get the senior version because I qualify for it - as of October 2^nd, I am 70 years old.  I have no idea just how or why I made it this far, but here we all are.

So, getting right to the fucking point, here's what happened.

Deputy Dumb-Ass...

 Just about the time that the Defund the Police movement starts running out of fuel and the commercial news media had nothing better to write about except the mysterious disappearance of Kiely Rodni (who has since been found, but no one will admit it as of this writing), a complete and total asshole down in Florida who is wearing a gun and a badge he should never in a million years been issued pulls a boneheaded stunt that could easily have blown up into the next Civil (rights) War II.

Be forewarned and keep reading - or not.

One picture is worth - I dunno.

In a moment of temporary insanity and half-in-the-bag boredom, I signed up for Nextdoor.  It's a social media site that is supposed to carry local news and human interest stories as generated by the moonbats, wingnuts, and fatheads who use it.

Consider yourself warned and keep reading.