Friday, November 27, 2020

No Man Is an Island

Friends should be those whom you crave to be with. You love them because they love you, not because there is any material expectation,  although there should be an expectation of loyalty. If a friend betrays you, then they're not really a friend, are they? Lastly, friends are not your collected acquaintances. Don't expect a warm seat at the Thanksgiving table if you show up uninvited.

I've been left out of more prayers than those that included me. It's no wonder I'm pissed off.


 Your destiny is in the woods. Babyface.

New Movie Scene! Exciting!

Okay Players, get your fired up. What movie contains this scene? Guess correctly and I will appoint you as an officer in the newly-formed Southern-Fried Militia. Good luck.


I taught karate back in the 80's and 90's and actually was a trainer and training partner for select members of the 1988 Olympic Tae Kwon Do Team. We kicked ass that year! Anyhoo, as you can see I took on a few extra students. You know how it is with dilettantes -- you got to give them rewards when they learn something and that's what the medals are all about. Ali was grateful to finally learn how to make a proper fist. The Donald paid some kid to train for him. Ruth Ginsberg thought she had earned a black belt after one lesson and Mel Griffith wanted to go back to the hotel room and get high. The other two guys in the pic were waiters at a health club and just wanted to get their picture taken with Dwayne Johnson who ducked out of the photo at the last minute.

Thursday, November 26, 2020

Close Encounters

Yesterday, Mae and I went out about mid-afternoon with the aim to hike the six miles to a tributary of the Arkansas River to where there was supposed to be some kind of trading post or store. We found the river all right, but the store wasn't where I thought it was. By this time, it was late afternoon anyway and since the days are so short, I knew we had to get going.

I had an overnight pack with a tarp, flashlight, power bars, and even a sleeping bag, but I really hadn't planned on spending the night in the woods. However, when the sun went down we were still four miles from home, by my reckoning. Mae was worn out and dragging behind. I'd had to carry her before on long hikes and I didn't want to do it again -- she weighs over a hundred pounds! I had miles of a rough nighttime hike in front of me and, what the hell, I wasn't in a hurry.

We made camp high in a protected gully and I built a fire that gave me enough light to set up my tarp. It was beginning to rain and the temperature was turning cold. Mae waited under the tarp as I arranged things. We each had a power bar and water from my battered old canteen and then we just stared at the fire. The rain kept up but it was light. After walking around the perimeter and taking a sniff, Mae curled up next to me.

I woke up sometime later, after midnight. I remember looking at my watch, but I was groggy and it didn't register. Maybe it was because I was distracted. It had stopped raining and the area was eerily silent. The fire was out and it was as cold as my ex-girlfriend's heart. My breath revealed itself in billowing clouds. Mae was sitting up and staring at the darkened forest. She glanced at me.

There was a horrid smell and at first I thought Mae had found a carcass and rolled in it as I slept. Yet, I discovered it wasn't coming from her. It was, rather, in the air. I looked at Mae and asked her, "What's that smell?"

Perhaps I should explain I have lived alone for many years and often find myself talking to Mae. She doesn't answer me, but sometimes she responds with a tail wag or a smile. This time she did neither and continued to stare into the dark. I rummaged in the pack for my flashlight and was about to ask her to go check it out when I heard what sounded like heavy steps that were so close, I thought someone had snuck up and was practically on top of me. I heard someone or something take a deep breath and goosebumps popped up along my shoulders and skull.

The hair on Mae's back and neck stood on end and she barked, deep and threatening. It was her outdoor, I-mean-business voice. I asked her what it was and she suddenly snarled and leaped into the darkness as if her tormentor was right there. She immediately disappeared but I could hear her crashing through the brush behind the heavy steps.

I strained to see before remembering I had the flashlight. I retrieved it and turned it on, then flashed it around. The trees were barren of leaves and dripped from the rain. I could hear Mae barking, but she was already some distance away. I called to her and wished I had brought a firearm.

Eventually, Mae returned. I tried to fall asleep again, but after that, it was useless. At the break of dawn, I stuffed everything in the overnight pack and headed towards the house. On a flat level I could easily cover four miles in an hour, but my route took me up and down hollows and ridges, so it took an extra forty minutes.

When we got home, Mae had a big drink of water and went straight to her bed. That's where she is as I write this. I made some coffee and did some research via the internet and discovered I was sleeping in Bigfoot territory. As a matter of fact, the locals call the spot where I spent the night, Sasquatch's Parlor. Hmm.

No Thanks Here

A typical Thanksgiving message would be one of gratitude towards the Great Spirit that makes all life possible and offers the abundance of this world to all who believe -- all the braindead, MSG-eating, know-it-all TV-watchers. I do not count myself among you although I feel fortunate that random chance has gifted me with the intelligence and capability to see through the ruse.

Exactly who is it I am supposed to express gratitude towards? The Christian Big Guy? The old three-in-one? The Pope -- head of the New European Commie Church? Sorry, can't pray to a funny hat without laughing. Maybe I should pray to Joe Biden. He certainly pulled off a miracle, eh?

Maybe I should pray to the spirits of the forest. Maybe I should pray to my spirit guide: the lowly termite. I may build a miniature wooden tower today in my front yard. I'll sit at the bottom and babble my prayers. Ya think I'm kidding. I'm not.

Today is Thanksgiving in the US but it's a sad day when you realize the country has been taken over by communists. Oh, I know you'd prefer to call them socialists, but believe me, in the end you'll be calling them sir and madam as you hand over every possession you own. If you believe otherwise, you're an utter fool. On the other hand, they may allow you to live if you can pucker up and kiss their collective backsides. I'll bet you can do that, can't you?

For those of you who want to thank some faceless god for giving you a frozen bird, knock yourselves out.

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

What God Wants, Part 1


Mysterious Ways

Hey God! Why did you take my buddy's cat?
You're an asshole.

Artist is Gone

My alpha feline has left and as I review his last days in my mind, I think he's gone for good. Artist was always a little standoffish. He was the runt of the litter and was sickly with stomach problems, yet he overcame all that and I thought we were in the clear as far as his health problems were concerned. Now, I don't think so. I think little Art made a plan for himself and went out into the woods that surround us and went to sleep for the last time. I hoped he'd just gone for a walkabout or to find a girlfriend. He acted peculiar the last couple of weeks staying more and more by himself and preferring to remain outside at night. He was rude to the other animals but clingy to me.

Anyway, now he's gone, but I still look for him every day. No blood trails, nothing to indicate a predator might have nabbed him. I have seven other cats and I would feel as destroyed as I do now if any of them came up missing.

Art and I had five years as pals and he had a great life (for a cat). I wish he was still here. There's another hole in my life where all the love went.

Saturday, November 21, 2020

Top 10 Movies with Hell in the Title

Bad Girls Go to Hell 1965

Crazy as Hell 2002

Drag me to Hell 2009

From Hell to Texas 1958

Hell and High Water 1954

Hell Baby 2013

Hell Below Zero 1954

Hellbent for Leather 1960 

Hell Divers 1931

Hell's Hinges 1916

Friday, November 20, 2020

Thursday, November 19, 2020

See You In Hell

 After much soul-searching, I have decided to renounce my faith in Christianity. Thanks for the ride, but it's all turned out to be just so much baloney. There is truth out there, but nobody's interested in finding it, so I guess I'll see you in hell. I'll be the barefoot guy wearing Wayfarers. Gimme some sugar before I go.

Monday, November 16, 2020





Having a heck of a time posting anything. My service says I've used up my time again for November but I suspect Google is toying with me. Why would I be online when most of the time I can't connect? looking for a new internet arrangement in Feb if the Biden/Harris commies don't come for me first.

Saturday, November 14, 2020

Name That Movie!

 This harrowing scene comes from an off-beat blockbuster released in 1999. Click on pic to increase viewing size.

Friday, November 13, 2020

The Late Show



Nite Stalker

She got rid of me
without saying why,
but I know it's cause
I'm not a rich guy. 

It could have been
an epic romance:
I've got bourbon on ice
and six marijuana plants. 

I've lost weight this year
and I'm looking pretty fly,
yet she turned me down
and went with another guy. 

I told her I loved her
and I'd build her a house;
she wanted a mansion,
not a place for a mouse. 

She wanted steak for dinner
so out on the town we went.
I had to wash dishes
to cover the money we spent. 

Someday maybe I'll find
my fortune in the stars:
a girl who likes cheap wine
and pays the cover charge at all my favorite bars.

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

40000 Headmen


Home on the Range


Veteran's Day

Hi everybody! It's Veteran's Day today. We're supposed to honor veterans and show them our gratitude for their service to the country. So, I'm saying thanks to all our fighting men and I hope we can someday find a way forward where people don't have to get killed. Did you serve in the military? If you did, thank-you. If you didn't, you can show support by telling a vet thanks. Thanks for protecting our freedom, our Republic, and our way of life. I know a soldier (or sailor) must take an oath to defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic. To carry out that mission, a soldier (or sailor) must be familiar with the Constitution. Furthermore, if a soldier (or sailor) is issued an unconstitutional order, he is bound by the law not to obey. Of course, it doesn't always work out that way. Happy Wednesday, everybody! Kill a commie for Christ!

PS Why would they have a Women's Veteran's Day separate from the designated Veteran's Day? Well, if you didn't know, they do and it's tomorrow.

Tuesday, November 10, 2020

That'll Be All

Yesterday was my planned trip to Walmart. It's not that I hate Walmart, I just don't like the long drive to the store and you know what? I'd rather go to a private, individual grocery store -- like it used to be. Walmart is too big. Too impersonal. But everyone uses Walmart now, unless you're a Hollywood star or a politician.

So, I really shelled out some money to get a few things I felt compelled to purchase. I bought a new office chair and put it together last night. It is way more comfy than my old office chair. If you come visit me, you'll probably sit in my old office chair. You can roll around the living room, if you want to. I bought a monitor (32 inch) for when my computer TV suddenly and tragically decides to quit working. A $108 for the monitor (it ain't a Sony).

I bought a thermometer that works. You just press it up against your temple and voila!

I got some lighter fluid for my three lighter Zippo lighter collection. I am a failure as a collector, that's why I only have three.

I bought a kitchen scale in case I ever decide to be a drug dealer and I bought a small vacuum sealer, another accoutrement of the drug dealer.

I got some other stuff too.

There were only three lines open at Walmart. The guy behind me said they were training us to use the self-checkout by not providing enough cashiers. Maybe so. The lady in front of me looked to be in her sixties and mumbled her complaints behind her pandemic mask. I had forgotten mine and was walking around without one, pissing off the snowflakes. I think it probably pissed off the lady in front of me.

So there we were, standing in line at Walmart like refugees exchanging one-liners and waiting our turn. As usual, I tried to make small talk when I should have kept my mouth shut. I told the lady in front of me that I was pretty upset about what was going on with the election. Her friendly expression turned dark. "It's a terrible thing," I continued, "we're losing any semblance of order if, you know, elections can be stolen."

"I hear poll workers are being threatened."

"They need to be threatened if they were in on it."

"What? They need to be threatened?"

"They've committed felonies, ma'am and changed the election results. We don't live in a banana republic."

"You're brainwashed," she blurted out. "Where do you get your news?"

"Hey lady, I actually read."

"You're brainwashed," she repeated, receiving her change and walking away, making a show of wagging her head like a hoary old goat. To seal her position, she told me she'd pray for me that I might see the truth. Holy incoherent ramblings from yet another white American female -- quite possibly the craziest group of people on the planet!

I suppose she thinks she won the debate by calling me brainwashed and turning her back. I looked at the guy behind me and he shook his head. "They won't listen," he said.

In my mind's eye, I saw myself running up behind her and jumping up on her back and wrapping my arms around her throat until she fell over at which time I began to wail on her stunted cranium. I'd have killed her if the cashier had not asked me if there was going to be anything else.

"No," I said. "That'll be all."

Wednesday, November 4, 2020

Crazy Bitches

Crazy makes crazy, right? If you hang out with crazy, well then you're going to end up getting a dose. Crazy is contagious. If your wife or girlfiend (girlfiend, get it?) is crazy, then guess what? Yep, you're going to be crazy too. If your boss at work is crazy, you know what? You're going to be crazy too.

If the preacher at your church is a little whacked out, you're likely to be a little whacked-out too. If they ask you if you're "in love" with Jesus, you don't have to bow to peer pressure. If they ask if you'd care to donate to the Molly Fields Cemetery for the unborn, suggest cremation.

If your parents have begun to forget everything and now prefer to sit on the porch and stare at the sun, you're getting a preview of your future. I'd suggest you start taking vitamins asap.

If your kids are crazy, then they got it from you. Congratulations for successfully passing on your distorted view of the universe.

At one time or another, everybody gets to go crazy. In my experience, it's a short trip. Do not trust anyone who says they never get angry, they never forget, and they don't eat tuna. I don't love tuna but I could probably survive on it until mercury poisoning got to me.

I've said it before, so you already know. Don't get upset when I say it again. Women are crazy. There's a biological imperative here so don't get mad at me for saying so. Women go crazy once a month for a week or so. Shoot, some woman are crazy the entire month, month after month, year after year, and nobody does anything about it. When is the government going to step in and do something about the periodic insanity of females?

It's dangerous to have these females in positions of authority. Does Pelosi have the launch codes? I pray not. Are there female train engineers? Scary thought. There are female airline pilots but it's my understanding they take time off on those troublesome days.

Which presses the question: if you're crazy, do you know it? And, if somebody says they are rock-solid sane, is there any reason to believe them? Why, I've told multitudes I'm not crazy and no one ever believes me.

My excuse is I've had a number of crazy bitches in my life. To my defense, life is a gamble and I am inherently incompetent when it comes to women. There are no sure things except the sun coming up, taxes coming due, and the grim reaper someday coming for you. Statistics say you'll end marrying a crazy girl.

My advice is that if you can't fight off the insanity, then allow yourself to be happy about it. I'd like to tell you things are going to get better, but the truth is...

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

Click the Pic

 I claim no connection to this pic, but it reminds me of Harry Irons and To the Stars. Click on the pic to see a larger image.

She's Been Working Out

oday is the big day. I got up early, combed what's left of my hair, dressed up like a gentrified landowner, tossed some Halston on the back of my neck, put Mae in the truck, and drove to the polling place. I couldn't find my voter's registration so when they asked for ID I gave them my medical marijuana card. Don't judge me. She said it wouldn't do and so I handed her my press card. She shook her head again and I laughed and dug a Mekong Delta brown water sailor military challenge coin from my pocket. She didn't know what it was so I told her it was all I needed to get a drink or a free meal in the southern portion of these United States.

"Well, you need a driver's license or an approved ID to vote."

I gave her my VA ID which fingered me as a disabled vet as well as my driver's license.

"Thank you for your service," she said automatically.

"And thank you for yours," I responded.

So I was allowed to vote. I didn't have to wait in a long line and I voted straight ticket.

I expect all kinds of problems from the Left. Cheating, duplicate votes, dead people voting, and so on. Enough Democrats have commented that they will do whatever it takes to remove Trump from office. I believe them. To me, that means they're willing to cheat and break the law in order to win the election and get rid of their nemesis, the Trumpster. Isn't that what they've admitted on multiple occasions?

We should expect court cases that will attempt to invalidate the election results. There will be stories from the Left that will claim the election is a sham. NPR will express outrage for the next four years and Hillary will blame it all on Russian collusion. Pelosi will bring impeachment charges... again.

"We can't allow a man who pays hookers to pee on him to sit in the oval office," says Hillary, or something like that. Anyhoosit, Hillary should be the last person to make accusations. Why are we still hearing sound bites from her anyway? I hear she's contemplating the release of a nude Christmas calender. She's been working out and she wants to turn things around. Heh-heh.