Happy Anniversary!

 Today, the 24^th day of February in the Year of Our Lord two thousand and ten, the bored and somewhat deranged author of this blog sat down at his keyboard and pounded out the very first post. Here's a link to the post if you'd care to read it (Click Bait!), but the long and short of it is that our upscale Sylvania, Ohio neighborhood of Lincoln Woods was invaded by a drug dealer, one Clay Hausenfleck. Clay built a grow room in his basement, complete with a locked door to keep the family (one adult female with two children) out of the grow room and completely in the dark about what might be growing down there and why. He also had an illicit connection to the local power company, which didn't have a meter on it, and a decent wad of cash stashed in a safe. Clay also worked as a truck driver, and he was a bit rough around the edges, but so what? Well, I'll tell you 'so what'.

That he kept a grow room didn't really bother me, but not being able to keep this little sideline business under his hat attracted the attention of some fairly undesirable individuals, four to be exact, who armed themselves as they saw fit and kicked in Clay's back door at three in the morning. Clay woke up, they shot at him, and he, being no slouch, returned fire. When the gun-smoke cleared, the cops showed up to count the bodies and demand to inspect the house as it was now a crime scene. And, well, one of the Sylvania PD recognized the bushes in the basement as Cannabis. Oh well.

So Main Lady wanted some enterprising individual to go door to door and get local residents to send a letter to the judge advising her to throw Clay into the hoosegow for a while.  Guess who got volunteered. Many of the neighbors refused to answer their door, which I found rather odd. But then, if I saw some decrepit old man at the door in the late afternoon... well, I'd pack my gat and answer. Most of these little Brownies hid under their bed.

Anyway, I started writing. Lately I haven't been inspired to write much of anything, in spite of the fact that we, all of us, are living in interesting times.

The number of individuals whom I believe to be fairly intelligent and well educated but who are supporting the lunatic left Democratic party is staggering.  They scream baseless criticisms at everyone about President Trump and the GOP, and they ignore the evidence surfacing about the mishandling of funds by our government. I would compare this to taking an elephant, painting the critter international orange and parking it in the middle of a Catholic Church during midnight mass - and no one sees it.

So, happy anniversary and thanks for reading and commenting. 

Pink Slip - Rant

Suppose, just hypothetically now, but just suppose you manage to piss off a medical doctor who is working on you. Or maybe it's a nursing practitioner, which is the next thing to an M.D. Or a cop. Yeah, cops are big fun when they get pissed off. For instance, my best friend during my misspent teenage years was Fast Eddy, who got pulled over in Wauseon, Ohio due to an excessively loud exhaust system on his Chevy SS 396 with four and a quarter horse.

"You got hot pipes on this car, son?" the local cop wants to know.

"Hell, I don't know. Reach down and feel 'em," Eddie replies.

Oh yeah. Or maybe you refer to the nursing practitioner as a victim of DEI, and when she gets testy you mention that there's a special on watermelon down at the local Kroger's.

Under most circumstances the official in question will refuse to serve you and scribble a sort of secret code next to your name which will tip other workers off to the fact that you're a racially prejudice homophobic fat shaming son of a trailer trash whore - and the staff, most of whom are black, will treat you poorly. Except those in the know, of course.

Those in the know will treat you to a 72 hour vacation in the puzzle factory, and short of breaking jail, there isn't one damned thing you can do about it.

Check this: New Albany shooting suspect had history of 'pink slips.'

Just Try and Tell Me Crime Doesn't Pay

 Go ahead and try, but before you do, read this.

Presidential Personal Gross Profit

The two amounts listed are starting wealth and ending wealth

All Amounts Are In Millions

• JFK; $100; $100
• Hey-Hey-LBJ; $14; $20
• Tricky Dick; $2; $15
• Ford; $1.4; $7
• Jimmy the Peanut Farmer; $2.3; $10
• Cowboy Ron; $10.6; $15.4
• King George the First; $4; $23
• Slick Willie Clinton; $1.3; $120
• King George the Second; $20; $40
• Ayatollah Obongo; $1.3; $70
• Slow Joe Bidet; $8; $10

President Donald Trump lost money during his first term in office.

The salary for the President of the United States is around four hundred large, so tell me - just how did this drastic increase in personal wealth happen?

Give up? Well, here's one possible explanation with more to come.

In Treasury's basement, fluorescent lights hummed above four young coders. Their screens cast blue light across government-issue desks, illuminating energy drink cans and agency badges. As their algorithms crawled through decades of payment data, one number kept growing: $17 billion in redundant programs. And counting.

"We're in," Akash Bobba messaged the team. "All of it."

Edward Coristine's code had already mapped three subsystems. Luke Farritor's algorithms were tracing payment flows across agencies. Ethan Shaotran's analysis revealed patterns that career officials didn't even know existed. By dawn, they would understand more about Treasury's operations than people who had worked there for decades.

This wasn't a hack.

This is a quote from INSIDE THE REVOLUTION REWIRING AMERICAN POWER, courtesy of EKO Override. courtesy of the Bayou Renaissance Man

I don't always agree with Peter Grant. He's something of an alarmist and prone to hyperbola, but in this case I don't think the gravity of this situation could be overstated. I'd encourage everyone to read this article and any associated articles, then draw your own conclusions.

Merry Christmas!

This is my obligatory happy holidays post.

Merry Christmas!

Happy Hanukkah!

Joyous Kwanzaa!

Bodacious Boxing Day!

Skate Through Zagreb Advent!

Did I miss anyone? Oh well, if I did there's always next year.

Thanks for reading.

Wisconsin School Shooting

I lived in Madison (AKA Mad City), Wisconsin for a couple years, and yesterday I heard there was a school shooting. Keep reading for my own opinion, which at this stage is just conjecture.

Attack of the Giant Drone!

By now everyone who isn't a hermetically sealed recluse has gotten wind of the drones invading New Jersey. The panic and outcry is unbelievable.

Just for openers, no laws have been broken, or even badly bent. I've read some of the commentary by politicians and talking heads - Too close to the airport! - and by our next President, who I'm a bit disappointed in. He overreacted, probably because he was pissed off about something. From what little we the people know, the invading air force consists of drones and ultralight aircraft. The drones vary in size from hobbyist style up to and including military or commercial drones. The ultralights carry one person, the pilot, and given the season and the temperature, they're probably wearing survival suits of some kind.

The only thing I believe that it's safe to say is that the United States Federal Government has stated several times that they, collectively, know nothing about the aircraft in question, and therefore we-the-retards have nothing to worry about.

That means that the government knows all about the drones and that we the people have plenty to worry about.

This morning the New Jersey militia/local police said that they captured a drone, but it turned out to be a lawn ornament for a factory. No, I'm not kidding, and no, I haven't been drinking. Yet.

Just keep looking up, and if you see one flip it off.

I'm sorely tempted to seek council from the Canadian Crapcopter Consultant, Glen Filthie. 

Another Subway Vigilante

Daniel Penny, a man I'd certainly like to have living in my neighborhood, has been labeled as a hero by everyone with an IQ above room temperature and common sense.  By now, everyone has heard of Penny, but I'll offer a summation along with my own vitriolic opinions.

Standard content warning. If you are a liberal, thin skinned, or object to graphic description and plain speech, go someplace else. If you keep reading, you'll get all spun up and have to chase you daily dose of Xanax with a shot of whiskey.

The Great Ohio - Michigan War

Back in the bad old days, we're talking 1835 or so, the political cockroaches in Michigan decided they wanted a small section of Ohio; where the city of Toledo is now. The fine, upstanding confidence men running Ohio objected to that on general principles, and so the Ohio–Michigan War got started. Once troops were positioned, Michigan got a chance to see what they were actually fighting about. They packed up and went home.

In 1937 a basketball team was formed in Fort Wayne, Indiana. The team was called the Fort Wayne Zollner Pistons. In typical Hoosier fashion, they couldn't leave well enough alone, so in 1957 the team moved to greasier fields, dropped their old customs and habits like yesterday's fish-wrap, and called themselves the Detroit Pistons.

Now then. Note that the entire State of Michigan started a war with Ohio over ownership of the town of Toledo, which for those of you blessed not to know, is a dead broke gravel pit. Toledo, Ohio is a place where mediocrity is a goal rather than a disparaging comment, while Michigan is the rotted out bottom of the rust bucket; true unadulterated ignorance backed up by interminable, beer swilling belligerence.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Suppose you have neighbors, which is a big mistake on their part, but they're the ones who bought the shack next door, ignoring the flags and banners out front. White Lives Matter, Blue Lives Matter, I Support The Second Amendment, Illegal Aliens Will Be Shot - Survivors Will Be Shot Again... that type of signage. That, and your  Trump/Vance/Victory! sign.

You, a red blooded, whiskey swilling, natural born U.S. Citizen, have two little rituals you observe every day. At dawn, you have Trixie (a local exotic dancer) stop by and raise the American Flag while you blow Reveille on your trumpet. Trixie is dressed in a red, white, and blue bikini. At sunset, you have Candy (another exotic dancer) stop by and lower the flag while you play taps. Candy, being very patriotic, is also dressed in a red, white, and blue bikini.

Your neighbor objects. You ignore him. He calls the police, who arrive in time for taps. They stand at attention and salute the flag, admire Candy, and thank you for your service, support and patriotism. Then they advise you about your neighbor's complaints.

The local HOA gets involved, and you tell them (six elderly busybodies) to go fart up a flagpole. The HOA has a lawyer on retainer, so after six months you, the HOA, and the idiots next door wind up in court, Judge Paul Goldner presiding. After hearing more than anyone would care to about the case, the Honorable Judge Goldner commences to lecture. Blah-blah civic minded, blah-ba-blah peaceful neighborhood, blah blah noise ordinance, disturbing the peace, and menacing. Do you have anything you'd like to say?

"Judge, when they circumcised you, they threw away the wrong part."

Okay, then...

Ninety days and five grand later, you erect a new flagpole, celebrate your release, and resume your little 'good morning world!' flag ceremony.

I wrote this is the spirit of entertainment and to smoothly segue into today's malfunction. Keep reading all those of you with rhino hides and a penchant for common sense.

November 5th, 2024 Election Ballot

Here's my proposed ballot for November 5th, 2024, and my intended vote. What keeps me reaching for another drink isn't the election so much as thinking about what might happen after the election.

Violent Crime and Juvenile Perpetrators

Sometimes I think I'm living in a banana republic. Other times I'm sure of it.

Beatus Natalis!

Which, if google translate is performing as advertised, means Happy Bithday! Yessir, today is my birthday. I was arrived in this world on the second day of October, a Thursday, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred fifty and two.  I was born in Toledo Hospital at around 5:30 AM, with Dr. Henry Brown assisting in the birth.  He was our family doctor, and a good one. I'm seventy-two years old today, and thanks to clean living, regular exercise, and a healthy diet I've managed to make it this far in spite of my regular association with women of questionable moral character, supporting myself against the bar with my left elbow while I hold my cocktail in my right hand, and only eating my fair share of the pizza we ordered - we, that is, being myself and a few drinking companions. 

Seventy two.

This post may be somewhat lengthy, so, given the general interest in a single day of the author's life coupled with the somewhat abbreviated assiduity of the readers here, feel free to go elsewhere. Believe me, no one will be offended.

CCW: One up the pipe or not?

 About a week ago I stopped off at the corner gas station to buy a pair of lottery tickets. Hey, you never know, right? This station is in a prime location, and despite heavy traffic (which is desirable if you own the station) people stop in here to buy road food, junk food, oddities of all sorts including common OTC drugs, and lottery tickets. They don't pay the staff a whole lot, and it shows.

Monkey Pox! Monkey Pox!

I was inspired by a post over at Filthie’s Log Of Ease, where our noble host wonders just how Monkey Pox, or Mpox, is spread.  Here's a link to the article: Walking On The Wild Side.

From the article by Glen Filthie:

Near as I can tell Monkey Pox is pretty much Darwin and Murphy hating on queers. If you limit your exposure to them and their lifestyle you have very little to worry about. One is tempted to be complacent and contemptuous of the red alerts coming out of the medicos after the Covid scam… but we can’t afford to do that! [Emphasis mine - MJ]

He's right. Having done a little research on the subject, there are a few key points to consider.

Elaina Rose Jennings, Daniel John Giacchina, Torture and the Death Penalty

I'm often against the death penalty.  As screwed up and corrupt as our justice system is in the United States, I don't trust any of them to get it right the first time. There are exceptions, and here I wordlessly point to the Innocence Project, which wouldn't exist if the justice system was anything close to perfect.  Then I read about a case like this one and start to ponder the good old lynch mob.

Even More Stupidity on FB

Some wind-up toy (Linda Jacobs Rice) on FuckBook posted this piece of drivel, and for some reason it just got on my very last nerve.  Here's the post and my response, deliberately worded to avoid Ef-Bee's robo censures. 

The Current Level of Stupidity

I read Nextdoor, a predominantly left wing social media site which features local news as reported by Nextdoor members.  This is occasionally useful, as crimes are often reported on Nextdoor and never seen on commercial media.  Shootings, robberies, hurled insults and fecal matter along with the fallout from same are reported and blame is assigned along with suggested penalties.  I believe burning at the stake is mentioned on occasion, usually in response to a thread that is tilted to the political right.

This would be a whole lot less interesting than it already is if not for the blatant display of willful ignorance that surfaces from day to day.  For instance, here we have the start of something.

If this story is true, what happened was the attempted kidnapping of a child.  This is a serious crime, and if I were involved I would have likely put some lead in the air.  The reactions were about what you'd expect, with the prime example being this little nugget of - I don't know, information? Informed opinion?

This is nuts. I can't tell of MaryJo DeBlasis is serious or not, but she got some support for this creative bit of insanity.  Now me, I think I know who the next mayor of Crazytown is going to be - and it ain't Bidet.

These people vote. My belief is that they vote the straight crazy ticket, and if there is one thing wrong with our system of government, it's that everyone is allowed to vote or to run for office.

Thanks for reading.

The Dog is On the Prod

I got this from the Bayou Renaissance Man, who got it from Lawdog.  I think it's worth reading, and so am devoting a post to it.

My own comments are fairly succinct.  Our current president, Joseph Robinette Biden Jr., is suffering from dementia.  The symptoms have been visible for over a year, and now the Democrats want him to run for another term - and he's incapable.  I actually feel sorry for the man.  You might as well inform me, Mad Jack, that I'm on the U.S. Olympic Track and Field team, and that I'm expected to bring home a gold medal.  Biden was fine as the Ayatollah Obongo's V.P. when all he had to do was breath and show a pulse. Now? Not just no, but hell no.

Our current vice president, Kamala Devi Harris, is arguably sane enough, but she's stupid.  Put it another way, she isn't smart enough to hold the office of vice president, let alone president, and the moonbats know it.  If Kamala got into the oval office, I'd end up as one of the names listed on the back page of the local scandal sheet as refusing to report to the political reeducation camp.  At best, I'd end up living in a trailer parked in Glen Filthie's back yard.

It's three hours until happy hour, but what the hell.  Like the man said, it's five o'clock somewhere.

The Rusty Baldwin Shooting: Question

I'm posting this because my knowledge of firearms and the Baldwin shooting is insufficient to answer it for myself.

Dentist

I'm phobic.  I'm afraid to go to the dentist.  No reason, just phobic.

So today I'm going in to get my chops fixed.  I busted a chop last week, and today I'm getting a new cap installed.  And then, just because I guess, while I was getting my chops cleaned last week one of the caps came off.  I'll give the hygienist credit; she didn't say what I'd have said which would be something along the lines of Oh holy hell on a biscuit... don't move, I'll get the dentist.  Oh yeah.

I take drugs to calm me down.  My old dentist suggested he give me a running start across the parking lot and he'd nail me with a tranquilizer rifle.

My appointment is this afternoon.