Smoking Doping and Poking

A friend of mine was accosted yesterday. Doc Greene was getting lunch at a McDonald’s, set his ever present iPad down while he paid for his food, and a thug grabbed it and ran! Sounds simple enough, but Au Contraire. Did I spell that right? Oh well, let’s move on. I never claimed to be Shakespeare. Let’s delve into the layers of this onion.

First, for all the moms against everything but same sex let’s examine the second amendment. Doc is a conceal carry holder. I’m sure he was packing. He showed restraint and didn’t shoot this thug. He’s a better man than I am. If this punk grabbed MY iPad, indeed, if he grabbed my Big Mac he’d never eat it. I’m a little old fashioned, suck it up!

Little by little we have accepted a certain level of lawlessness, and degradation of our civilization that was not even evident in the so called Wild Wild West. If a thug grabbed a ladies purse on the streets of Tombstone in 1888 the end result would have been far different than the incident at the McDonald’s. Punks and thugs have conditioned us into acceptance of their lifestyle. They routinely shoplift, very aware of the fifty dollar rule where if you steal below that limit the incarceration is just a minor inconvenience and they will be smoking, doping and poking again in no time. While I would be upset over a parking ticket they calculate the cost of a shirt and rob, rob, rob!

Now an iPad is a little more serious, but let’s look at the reasoning behind the theft. Doc is a large, older guy. I suspect the perpetrator was a younger guy, most likely NOT in a wheel chair. He KNEW Doc could not give chase. Why did he steal an iPad? What would he gain? Did he want the item to surf the net, read email, or watch YouTube! He stole that iPad to get another rock! My iPad was stolen also. Crack head sold it for fifty dollars. I FOUND my iPad, then I found the HomeBoy. Can’t discuss that until next year when the statute of limitations runs out.

Is my response to my own robbery, or my suggestion of deadly force justified? YES! Our society has drifted so far to the left it defies logic. When the sub-culture rampant in our streets today whines about over reaction, or screams, “Foul,” I just say, “This is the world YOU created!” The Hip Hop generation is a vile, base, lawless bunch of thugs that preys on the civilization of regular people, capitalizing on the liberal, politically correct drivel that permeates our society. It is long since over due that the people take this country BACK! There is no reason a sixteen year old girl can’t walk through a city park, at eight o’clock at night, eating an ice cream cone! Doc Greene had every right to enjoy his sandwich at a McDonald’s, with CHILDREN all around in the bright light of day!

Now I’m going to get racial. Oh yeah, I’m going there! THIS is the world of Michael Brown. THIS is the world of Trayvon Martin. THIS is the world of Al Sharpton! This is the world where the tail wags the dog, everything is up for grabs and there is no retribution. This is the world of illiteracy and Hedonistic behavior that knows no bounds, or self control. THIS is the world where Jesus was just another white man.

This is not going to just go away. Good, Christian, determined people are going to have to dispatch it, and yes, it’s going to be harsh, because that’s all these people (yes I just said that) understand. They have sunk so low on the food chain all they understand is pleasure, and pain. You’ll never change these animals, just like you cant change a bad dog, but you can even train a bad dog about limits! That word is TRAIN. You TRAIN an animal, you TEACH a human being! You know what the sad part is? I know Doc Greene. I’ve heard him on the radio, and met with him many times. If the thief were hungry, and had approached Doc saying, “Mr. I don’t have the money to eat,” Doc would have just bought him a sandwich. For all you liberal, whining, politically correct milk toasts out there I say this. If you love these people so much, just hand your iPad to the next crack head you see at a stop light. Obama will bless you for it.


Sgt Wilbur’s Lonely Heart’s Club Band

Every now and then one sits back and something comes along that’s just so dog gone entertaining you can’t just let it pass by. First, a little background. Anyone ever hear of Nigeria. Well, that’s the ultimate “N” word if there ever was one. That country is so corrupt it would make Al Capone shake in his shoes. They wouldn’t know what the rule of law is if someone handed it to them in a paper bag. And Internet scams abound. Think about this. A place so crooked they named a scam after it. Poor France only had a fried potato named after it. Anyway, there is one particular scam that is my favorite. Folks, I have a GIRLFRIEND!

It goes like this. Couple days ago a lady asked to friend me on Facebook. Now, I’m sixty-three, well past my prime, been married a half dozen times or so, therefore I take anything I can get, so I accepted. I do have guidelines. They have to be human and I prefer them not to be sporting an oxygen bottle. Anyway, she thanked me, and frankly I didn’t think much of it. Then the PMs started rolling in. My Spidey sense wasn’t on at the time so I answered in a fairly civilized fashion. Her messages were articulate, but I noticed that right away she told me she was searching for a “soulmate.” Then she wanted to text me on my phone and sent me her number, which was based in Riverside, California. Ok, that’s cool. But, I noticed her “location” was now Washington, DC according to her Facebook profile, an account which disappeared fairly quickly after our first contact. She explained to me that she was a woman of wealth, recently divorced, and she was an international antiques dealer. Friends and neighbors, I wasn’t born yesterday, and I wasn’t born in the dark! I CALLED the number, and naturally it was not receiving calls at that time. Now, for the uninitiated, the reason for this is these numbers have two purposes. First, of course, for texting. After the initial contact the scammer will move on to text or email, blocking or removing the original Facebook page so they can set the trap for the next loved one Then next is to provide some kind of assurance to the “mark” that the owner of the number is in country. There will never be an answer at the other end because if that should ever happen the idiot will very quickly display a gender problem. Oh yeah, it’s a dude!

Ok, so at this point I’m becoming aware that this is most likely not going to be Mrs. Wilbur number three, but let’s add something else to,the mix. I’m an asshole. That, and it being a holiday weekend, I’m sitting in my beautiful home with an unlimited supply of Jim Beam and cigarettes! The prose from Facebook to text to email shifts wildly. Shift is the key word here. As the shift change comes about over yonder one will quickly realize that they are dealing with not one, two or possibly even three individuals. You can even time their breaks if you know time zones and watch for changes in style. They have pre-written emails, which are usually well written but shallow. The emails I began to receive we’re chock FULL of declarations of undying love for me! No matter what I wrote back more flowery letters would return. Then, of course, my “friend” wanted to converse with me on Yahoo Messenger. I have several Yahoo accounts and I have one in particular for just this kind of thing. Uh, I’m an elderly, lonely, wealthy widower.

Let me now introduce you to something called “Translation Software.” The job of this little jewel is to enable the sender to converse on text in a language that they are totally unfamiliar with. This software doesn’t pick up on slang, and most CERTAINLY doesn’t decipher TEXAN! After quite a few slip ups on the other end, including very long response times (as the software does its thing) I decide to do my litmus test for the Nigerian Scam. It goes like this.

The scammer does realize that it is an American holiday. Also, they are fully aware that anyone hanging on their every word is most likely alone and elderly. So, it only goes to follow at some point they will ask, “What are you doing tonight?” They expect a short reply, easily figured out by the computer whereupon they can enlist any one of a number of provocative answers designed to pump up the blood pressure of the lonely old fool on the hook. Well, THIS lonely old fool is sitting on a leather couch with Frenchi and a cocktail,
but I digress. When asked the question I respond, “I’m running down to Austin to pick up a couple grams. We have three high school cheer leaders locked up in a bedroom, and I’m going to smoke up their brains and have a me and my friends throw a gang bang.” Now please bear in mind the only thing the translation software picks up clearly is the word “friends!” After the usual delay I get, “So glad you have friends there!” Ruh Roh!

Now my friend must move to phase two. Since “she” is an international antique dealer she must make a trip to purchase products for her many outlets, and of course, the only place such items may be obtained is none other than, you got it . . . NIGERIA! (This is my surprised face!) She is departing today and will communicate with me after arrival in that country. Now here’s how the sting works. Never mind that I have made it abundantly clear that I’m too broke to pay attention, she has looked at my Yahoo profile, and is foaming at the mouth, picking out new cars My new friend will spend about a day or so texting me and then disaster will strike! It will be anything from being robbed to complications with export taxes for purchased items. He/she/it will ask me to send money via Western Union to assist, which will of course be given back upon return to the states, whereupon we will get married and live happily ever after!

These people invariably work out of Lagos. Very big seaport town! Bad traffic, crowded streets, the whole nine yards. The way the scam is supposed to come to fruition is a MoneyGram is sent and is picked up at any one of MANY outlets. Here’s the part being an asshole helps. I have a Western Union MoneyGram claim number that is as dead as fried chicken! That’s the claim number I send to the love of my life. Now, let’s drop all pretense. HE will dispatch a runner from the call center ( that’s right, this is run like a business) to the nearest location to pick up the loot. Naturally, the number won’t work, but remember, we’re not dealing with rocket scientists here. I just told this idiot I was about to commit not one but THREE felonies designed to put me in jail until Jesus came back and was told, “Cheery-o!” They will assume the first place is simply broken and will proceed to bounce all over town trying to cash in. Oh yeah, I always make the amount around ten thousand dollars to peek interest. Now this is a little like looking for a brisket sandwich in Manhattan on a rainy night, ok? Usually takes about two days and a couple tanks of gas before I get the obligatory text, “Why you do this me you no love me long time!” At this point I do explain to the scammer that he has been had. They never understand plain English and will rant and rave continuously before moving on to the next mark. Then, in about six months or so, I’ll get yet another friend request on Facebook. Ennie, meanie, minie, mo . . . Catch a Nigerian by the toe . . .

Liberal Apples and Conservative Oranges

I just love it when people apply labels to me. Heck, better than that, I really love it when people put labels on themselves. You see, that’s the problem with labels. Once you subscribe to one you have to BE that label, and the definitions change so you have to keep abreast of the current status quo. A girl friend of mine, that’s girl FRIEND, not girlfriend, defined by touch, don’t touch, but I digress, a girl friend of mine tells me I am a conservative Republican. She considers me a gun toting, beer drinking, missionary sex type of guy who hates on everyone darker than me. I guess that means when I’m in California and get a tan I can include more friends. Also I simply must hate all immigrants. For the record I love half of the Mexicans because common sense tells me at least half of them simply must be women. I do drink beer, but prefer martinis. Uh, straight up martinis, not those apple juice concoctions the Yankees drink and call themselves sophisticated. I do have a gun. The missionary sex thing. Well, all depends on what she weighs. And I AM sixty-three now.

When I meet a young liberal chick the conversation usually turns to politics. Abortion, gay rights, guns, you name it, and what I really want to say is, “Hey, baby, we’re like, in a BAR, and you are a young, liberal minded, healthy DRUNK woman . . . aren’t you supposed to pay my tab, go to a hotel and rock my world?” They never do, of course, because for all the liberal nonsense they turn into rejuvenating virgins whenever you suggest they act like a woman. And with all the new twists and turns in rape laws these days I never have sex unless I have a signed contract and two witnesses in the room during the consummation.

Actually I’m not conservative or liberal, I’m just me. I wouldn’t date a man, but I’d probably marry three girls if I legally could. I support open carry, but I probably won’t do it because it’s uncomfortable doing so. Ever carry a gun on your hip? Well, there you go. I don’t wear cowboy boots either. I have many black friends but have never dated a black chick because I like short, white, young blondes. At the age of eight I fell in love with Tinker Bell and it stuck. Did you ever consider Tinker Bell being full sized and real? What to do with the wings during sex. Ok, I’m a little weird, live with it! Wonder if I can find a Tinker Bell costume . . .

Actually, I’m too old to chase women anymore. Two reasons: One, I don’t have that kind of energy, and two, I’ve already caught several in my lifetime and divorces are so traumatizing. I can’t get along with any woman for any substantial period of time. The reason being that I like to get up in the morning and do what *I* want to do. You get a girl and she says, ” What are you going to do this morning?” to which you reply, “I was thinking a cup of coffee on the porch, and reading the news,” and she says, “But you promised ME Starbucks!” Well, there you go. Half your freedom right out the window. And don’t EVEN try to have drinks on the patio. Bear in mind you picked this chick up in a bar, but the moment she moves in it’s, “Are you just going to sit there with a Martini all night?” Well, uh, YEAH!

Frenchi is the perfect girlfriend. First she’s street legal. Always nice not to post a fifty thousand dollar bond for taking a shower. Next, she is drop dead gorgeous, which is a plus at sixty three. Now I like older women, I just don’t like to touch them. She always has her own money, and that’s a biggie. Finally, she’ll hang around for a bit, and then she’ll get on Facebook, find some guy, pick up her backpack and she’s out the door until next time! The PERFECT woman. Oh, and she always catches the dishes before she leaves.

Now the above is as cock-eyed a lifestyle as you can get, but my friend still tags me as “conservative.” She considers herself to be a flaming liberal. One day I’ll run a few martinis through her and see what pops up. Until next time, same BAT time, same BAT channel . . . Boy! Did I just date myself with THAT one!

Peace In Our Time

What did I tell you? Either way the Grand Jury in Ferguson went, buildings were going to burn. If Wilson were acquitted the mob would rise in furious anger at the “injustice.” If he were indicted, the mob would rise in revenge. This pot has been stewing for a long time. In this world there are “haves,” and “have-nots.” When one is a “have-not” there is always a resentment toward the “haves.” Surely people who have acquired wealth or stability could not have done that save some sinister plot designed by dark and mysterious characters in some secret club in London! I don’t have a Mercedes, not because I’m a Meth Head, not because I’ve never worked, it MUST be a conspiracy and simply must be because I’m black!

And so we have Ferguson, Missouri. Let’s look at the root cause of this. What made Michael Brown turn and attack an armed police officer that fateful night? What would make a young man charge a pistol? Certainly not political ideology. Could it have been rage? Maybe a little hate because of the color of the officer’s skin. Oh, that can’t be right. Only white people can be racist. We all know that. Al Sharpton flew to Dallas to protest the death of Little Alex, didn’t he? Of course he didn’t. Wrong color!

The instigators of this fiasco drew it along racial lines, but it’s not racial! I don’t know how many people filled the streets on Ferguson last night but I can assure you it wasn’t ALL the black people in that town! You see, that’s the lovely part about being a Simple Ol’ Boy from Austin is that you figure out stuff like that. And, of course, there are people who will say it isn’t that simple, but it IS! People like Jack in the Sharp would have you believe that the issues are so immense that they, and only they can lead the huddled masses across the Red Sea to salvation.

We are being attacked on several fronts. The mob controls the streets, and the police have been so perverted that they are useless. The only time they pull themselves together is when a citizen tries to defend them self, or tries to rely on the constitution, which is always a no no. Well, folks,this fight has been coming for a long time. Hold your head up. There are more good people than bad people. We will win this. There will be casualties. We will lose some good people. This is the way of the world. Some will lose their lives, and some will lose their souls as they do what needs to be done. We will never know peace in our time, but we need to leave peace for our children and grandchildren.

From the ashes will rise the Republic of Texas. This is exactly what I was telling you many times before. America will become so embroiled in Obama’s race baiting that it won’t have time to worry about our little show down on the Rio Bravo. Texas will become a republic de facto. Once we have that, there needs to be a law. If anyone even suggests we join the good old USA again there should be forced sterilization so THAT DNA goes no farther!


I have grandchildren. This, in and of itself is not unusual, but if you are a grandparent you understand that grandparenting is an art and a science. I raised four boys. One, Bobby, who passed away before he was thirty from a heart attack, Michael, who couldn’t remain in the Marines due to an ear injury, but became a fine police officer, Wilbur, who ran away to the Navy and they are trying to come up with a new rank so they can promote him yet again, and, of course, we have Timmy the CrackHead, who crashed and burned at an early age, but every family has one, and he is ours. That doesn’t mean we don’t have him over for Thanksgiving, but it does mean we watch the silver while he’s here. Now, where am I going with this? Oh yeah, kids!

I can’t remember ever worrying about what my boys were playing with while they were growing up. Even in high school they would regularly do such inventive things such as steal my Cable Van, go to parties, get drunk, bring home girls, have them gone, and the van gassed up before I got up in the morning. Hey, it’s Texas and CPS can kiss my redneck ass! When they were pre-teen they played in the yard. They threw footballs, hit each other with sticks and rocks, and yes, played with toy guns. I had black powder pistols, and on the fourth of July Wilbur even used the raw black powder for fireworks in the back hard. Not ONE of my boys were ever shot by Deputy Dawg, our local police, for waving a plastic gun around not matter HOW real it looked! Neither Michael or Wilbur has ever killed a child and between the two of them they have killed enough Arabs to fill a Mosque!

All these boys, except Bobby, cloned themselves, and five of these creatures still grace my life directly. I have others but they live far away and they grew up. It is a reality check when the little girl you remember playing with dolls is the WOMAN who picks you up at LAX! If you have five grandchildren, all seven and under, and they are playing in the yard you have to WATCH! And I do mean WATCH! We’re not talking about, “Now children, play nice,” we’re talking about, “Put the stick DOWN! Step AWAY from the stick!” We don’t have toy guns here, not because I’m a bleeding heart liberal with ED, who doesn’t know what gender I am, but because I simply never bought any. However, that having been said, we have REAL guns!

In my younger days I preferred revolvers. Just by chance I purchased an Interarms .45. My friend, Ted had a Colt 1911, and he was always upgrading. Every time he switched out a part to his Colt he gave me the original part, and if you know anything about guns then you know these parts were interchangeable with my Interarms pistol, so in a reasonable time I basically had a Colt! One piece at a time, and it didn’t cost me a dime. Very stiff slide, I NEVER lock and load, and guess what? Not ONE of my children or many grandchildren has ever killed any of their siblings. Not one. Not even one incident of a child picking up a gun and playing with it. My grandchildren believe my guns are for shooting monsters in the closet.

I had an incident recently where some idiot called and announced to me that he was coming over to collect a debt connected with CrackHead Tim, and he was bringing not one, but TWO pistols. When he arrived I met him in the driveway, and brothers and sisters, I DID have two pistols, but guess what? I didn’t kill him. Wow! Why? Because when this drunk fool got out of his car, even in the dark, I quickly saw that he was not armed! You don’t kill an unarmed man, and you CERTAINLY don’t kill a little boy with a plastic gun!

This is called being a man. Since a large portion of our police are NOT men, but paranoid little girls we get incidents like the one in Cleveland this weekend. Now I’m going to get rude! If you are so skiddish that you can’t identify a cap gun, in a child’s hand, in broad daylight then you need to get another job! Maybe Librarian, or something like that. There is something called the “militarization” of the police, but that is a misnomer. Soldiers don’t act like that! Police who THINK they are soldiers act like that. Even in Iraq, where militants WILL arm a child with a bomb, soldiers act with RESTRAINT when confronted by a child. Do you know why when a cop wears body armor the face visor is not bullet proof? Because if you shoot through it you won’t hit anything vital, that’s why!

Now let’s turn our attention to the libtard who made the 911 call. Even if I could understand Barney Fife’s actions, being fresh on the scene, I cannot understand the liberal mind. The anti-gun element has so flooded the mainstream media with paranoia over guns that anytime even the THOUGHT of a gun comes on the scene people go into spasm. Ok, you look through your kitchen window at yon playground, and you see children frolicking among the glen, playing. There is one little boy (and MOST twelve year olds are quite small) who appears to have something in his hand. He is waving it around, pointing it, but it does not appear to be making a “pop pop” sound, so what do you do? Do you go and get a closer look? Why NO! You get on the emergency services phone line and start screaming, “GUN,” until you get a paranoid, schizophrenic on the scene, wired, with a REAL gun! I don’t have to tell you the rest. They’re “probing” the incident. I’d like to “probe” whoever made that 911 call!

Am I the only one outraged by this? And I don’t want to hear anything about “You weren’t there,” or “His training kicked in,” or “The gun looked real!” I’m going to shock you, but had I been there I would have shot that cop! That’s what you do to crazy men who kill KIDS! Then, they could probe THAT! It’s not the gun owners who endanger this country. It is the people who will not face reality and their subsequent irrational actions put us all in jeopardy.

My heart goes out to the parents of the little boy. There are some things in this world that you are not meant to survive. This is one of them. If one of my grandchildren were killed by a cop for waving a toy gun in a play ground, after I killed the cop, my life would be over. The grief would consume me. I’m not ashamed to tell you that I’ve wiped my eyes several times while writing this article, thinking about what that family must be going through. In that family there will never be closure. There will never be understanding. There will only be the immense black hole in their hearts and they ask again, and again, “Why . . .WHY?”

Wyatt Is Watching

Wonton lawlessness. Let’s consider that for a moment. What would we think if a Mafia Godfather sold guns to drug dealers in Mexico? What would we consider if he sent his Capos to our border and smuggled hundreds, if not thousands of saboteurs into the country, using children as a diversion? Then suppose he robbed the bank and lived the life of a king? What would that man be? While the liberals crunch these suppositions I will tell the rest of the thinking world what that man would be. That man would be a criminal! The rule of law enforces civilization. Men like Wyatt Earp came to Arizona and fought organized crime. When the gun smoke settled, then men from the east came in suits and ties and carrying books of law, and they lived by those books! They knew what the alternative was when the law was disregarded. They appreciated the delivery from chaos that Wyatt had given them. They understood what happens when criminals run the show. And that’s exactly what we have now! Oh, just in passing, Wyatt never shot a child, or beat up a man because he was black and crossing the street because he was a lawman!
There are good cops. I’ve met a few, a very few. The police have been reduced to a paranoid, screaming bunch of outlaws who prey upon the public. And they will tell you this is because of the nature of the job. This is not true. The job of the lawman has always remained the same. From the day Wyatt faced the Clantons at the OK Corral right up until Officer Wilson faced Michael Brown on the streets of a Ferguson. The song remained the same! To serve and protect.

You can’t just blame the police. They are just taking orders from the top. Guard the border, but don’t shoot. Now, guard the border and not only don’t shoot, don’t even talk back, indeed, help them over the fence. What do you expect? And when one officer does defend his life and kills a criminal in Ferguson he to seized upon by opportunistic preachers trying to make a buck! This with the full support of an out and out consigliere, Eric Holder.

Obama talks so smoothly. “Let me make this perfectly clear.” How is that different from Marlon Brando saying, “I’m going to have to say, ‘No’ to you, and I’m going to give you my reasons why?” It is not different. From top to bottom the entire system is off the rails. And people talk about the Cartels. Have you ever wondered why Mexico has revolutions? Do you,think its because the average Mexican is concerned about government? No, the PEOPLE rise up when they’ve had enough. And the Mexicans throw a pretty good revolution, they just can’t write a constitution worth a flip.

Well, the people here are about to rise up. No matter what that Grand Jury does in Ferguson there is going to be violence. This is because the lawless elements want violence because they have been led to believe that violence will achieve their ends. Well, they’re a daisy if they do! Police all over the country are on notice because one two bit punk got capped! The mal-contents, and losers will riot, and the PEOPLE will say, “ENOUGH!” There are people who do not sit idly by. There are people like Scott Liberty, CJ Grisham, and others who will stand with Wyatt! And what will the police do? They will run around screaming and beating up little old ladies. It will be the people that will turn this around. We The PEOPLE! The right of the PEOPLE to bear arms shall not be infringed! There are reasons for these words, friends, and not just to make light conversation at cocktail parties.

And I know there are law enforcement out there who will take exception to my words. They will say that there are many good cops. Well, show me! We need you. We need you to stop worrying about your retirement, or DWI arrests, or profiling, and at least be the man Wyatt Earp was. One good cop cancels out one hundred bad ones. Light breaks the darkness.

Obama is going to throw the full weight of his failing administration behind this Ferguson fiasco. He has to. Ferguson represents the full, and complete perversion of the law, and everything America stands for. If he wins, well, welcome to Mexico! Wyatt is watching!

The Fairy Princess

Last night I was sitting in my beautiful, paneled living room having a libation, and eating a tuna fish sandwich. By and by I was driven into a contemplative mood when a voice called unto me. And the the voice was holy, and powerful, and reSOUNDED-duh! And the voice said, “Psssssssst!”

So I walked up to the voice, and I said, “WHAT?”

And the voice said, “Gimme some of dat samitch!”

I said, “If you’re an angel make your own damn sandwich.”

Then, the voice said, “Behold, for I shall tell you the story of a fairy princess.”

I thought, “What the hell? I got a bottle and two packs of cigarettes, sure.”

And so the voice began: Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a fairy princess. She had golden locks, and eyes the color of a clear, blue mountain lake. She lived in the palace with the king, and her family. But all was not well with her for she had a condition that would rise on occasion and take the sweetness from her blood. The wizards had prescribed a magical formula, which if given in a timely fashion, would restore the sweetness, and the fairy princess would again frolic among the heather.

But there was an evil witch. Her name was SchoolNurse, and she greatly desired to have the fairy princess. By and by she came upon a plan. In secret meetings with another witch, called Neighbor, she said, “If the fairy princess loses the sweetness of her blood, and we should herald the Black Knights, then I, SchoolNurse, can demand the princess be with me and then I will control her, and all of her gold, given her by her mother. So they began to put their evil plan into action.

One morning when the Fairy Princess woke she was especially happy, and lively, for a great feast was approaching, and during this feast, she would be allowed to eat the sacred bird, which would be prepared in such a way that she could enjoy as much as she wanted, and the sweetness of her blood would not depart. The king used the magic wand, known as “Pen” and a holy book called “reader” and on that particular morning the Fairy Princess’ blood was especially sweet, indeed, two hundred and twenty cubits. This caused no alarm for the wizards had told how in the morning such a sweetness may indeed arise, but it should abate when the sun is directly overhead, and the wand known as “Insulin” would not be required.

So, therefore, the Fairy Princess went to the library of all knowledge, known as “school.” After a time, and half a time, as the king sat at meat that morning, there came a communication. SchoolNurse said that the sweetness had fled from the Fairy Princess and that he should return immediately lest she should fall into a sleep that no prince might awaken her. When the king arrived he found that SchoolNurse had summoned other wizards, called “9-11” and they were ministering to the Fairy Princess. By and by some of the sweetness returned and the king took the princess back to the castle.

The Princess began to feel better, even cooking a stew for her brothers to eat, but when it came time to eat she was not a hungered, and wished only to rest. As she slept the sweetness fled her blood, yet again, and when the king tried to awaken her she would not rise. He knew that he must introduce sweetness into her so he had her drink wine which hath no spirit, known as Apple Juice. Again, just as before, some of the sweetness returned, and the princess awoke, although her vigor was abated. She sat at theater until bed.

At the witching hour wails began to emit from the princess’ bed chamber, and the entire castle was awakened. It was discovered that a demon had entered into the Fairy Princess, depriving her of her reason, crying out in loud voices. The king summoned the 9-11 wizards and they used one of their magic wands to restore, yet again, some of the sweetness to the princess’ blood. The wizards said that this demon was of no consequence, and that the princess should be free of it, but the king said, “Nay! I shall take her to the powerful wizards in a neighboring kingdom and they shall divine the source of this demon, for it has reared its head not once, but twice, and this had never occurred before.”

So, the princess was taken to a castle, where she had her own private bed chamber. Two great wizards were summoned, and a third from the kingdom of Austin. They met, and afterwards they concluded that someone had given the princess a magic wand that was not required. On that morning the sweetness of her blood was normal for royalty and should abate by noon without the use of any wand. Someone had used not one wave of the wand, but SIX waves, and this had summoned the demon that had disrupted the castle and dimmed the light of the princess’ wisdom! Indeed, these wizards had a scroll that when read properly, could tell that the princess had no such demon up until that fateful morning.

The king returned to the castle, leaving the Fairy Princess in the watchful care of the master wizards, and the Queen for the night, and indeed, the Fairly Princess began to improve, even studying scrolls on her iPad throughout the evening. When darkness had fallen there came a knock on the palace door, and the king, and his knights found Neighbor standing there. She beseeched the King not to slay her, and said that SchoolNurse had summoned the Black Knights to spirit the Fairy Princess to her castle whereupon she should be placed in a dungeon and all of her gold and jewels would be given to her by the Black Knights. The king was perplexed, for he had been led to believe that most, if not all of the Black Knights had been slain, yea, even with the sword known as SunSet, but Neighbor told him this was not so, and a few of them were hiding, waiting to yet again attack the people. The king thanked Neighbor but later his knights asked him, why should neighbor reveal this plot, as she had not demanded gold, and only her fear had driven the words from her mouth?

On the morrow the Fairy Princess returned to the castle, the sweetness of her blood having been restored. As the sun rose, however the Black Knights did indeed appear. They besieged the castle but the ramparts were strong, and not having a scroll known as “warrant” they fled, their mouths slathering, vowing to return. But the king had a spy at the Learning Center, met under the cover of darkness and revealed the entire plot to him. She told him that the Fairy Princess had indeed been frolicking among the heather, but after going to SchoolNurse a demon had entered her blood and that’s when SchoolNurse had summoned the wizards from 9-11 after informing the Black Knights of her intentions. She had waved the magic wand, known as “Insulin” with such ferocity that it had taken a full day before the effects of this wand should abate, just as the Master Wizards had foretold. The king was furious, but in his wisdom did not slay SchoolNurse and Neighbor forthright, but decided to meet with his Knights and prepare a special meal of mutton which shall soon be served to them, and there will be the wailing, and gnashing of teeth, as the King extracts his vengeance upon the evil ones and leaves no stone unturned.

I looked at the voice and said, “Here, you can have the sandwich. I have mutton to cook. There’s your bedtime story, children. Sleep well.

Wake up . . . Ferguson’s on Fire

The American public, both black and white, has grown weary of the race baiting mainstream media. Americans have borne the blunt of an international opinion that the country is set up to deny black people opportunity, advancement, and equality with white society. This has just about as much credibility as aliens landing as Roswell. Any time the racial tensions ease somewhat Hollyweird grinds out another epic starring Oprah Winfrey, who, while being one of the richest women in the world, sits back and denies the very white majority that made her. She loves doing scenes where white cops beat her ass. Anything with a pair of handcuffs will do, and I’m cool with that. I have an ex-wife in New York that got into that, and it does have its moments. But that’s not what the race batters are shooting for.

Race Baiters get a lot of hay out of playing to man’s primal instinct, i.e. the ingrained suspicion of anything different. And they expound upon any open discussion of these differences by branding white people as racists. That usually trumps any debate. The moment a white person makes any headway at all they are called a racist. You say, “Watermelon,” you’re a racist. You say you don’t like Rap, you’re a racist. You say Michael Brown was a thug, well, you go to the front of the racist line.

You see, the more defined the lines of race are drawn the easier it becomes to divide and conquer, and folks, that’s what it’s really all about. As long as its “us” and “them” it is easy to fire up one or both sides and get people arguing, and hating, and buying whatever the race baiting moguls are selling, be it records, movie tickets, or votes! When you indoctrinate people it never works across the board. Most people will buy the baloney, but a few simply will not, but the few aren’t cool, they’re not hip, or with it. These precious few tell it like it is, but they just can’t seem to be heard above the crowds of robots all marching in step to the Pied Pipers of Hollyweird.

What do we do. You won’t get the masses to listen or even if they do they will not understand, because it’s easier to hate, than reason. We have a saying down in Texas. You let this pony run. That’s right. Let Ferguson burn to the ground and make damn sure the rest of America, black and white, gets a good whiff of the smoke. Then, you make an example! Did I just say that? Why yes, I did. I said that because I’m not stupid enough to say, “Oh please, Mr. Rioter, don’t burn my town down.” No, if you do that here better make it a big fire because we are going to throw you ON it. Texans are a simple folk. If you kill one of us we will kill you back. Obama and Holder can play mumbly-peg with the likes of Al Sharpton, but we play horseshoes, and they’re all cold, and hard.

This is what the Republic of Texas is all about. This is what makes us a people. While the smoke rises above Ferguson Texans can rest in the fact that we are unified and will not buy into the race baiting antics of the mass media or incendiary rants by so called “ministers” in New York City lining their pockets with the blood of their own people. To all Americans I say, wake up and take a piss . . . Ferguson’s on fire!

Well Fed Liberals

You know, solutions to complex problems are really quite simple when you step back and look at them objectively. It’s only when you inject legalese, or liberal thought do you get multi-layered psycho-babble that leaves the thinking person with exasperation. I am going to offer some of my solutions to complex problems, and please, bear in mind, I’m from Texas. (Save your fork, folks. This is gonna be good!)

Freedom of speech. This means you can say anything you want to say so long as you don’t threaten someone’s safety or life. You can get on a soapbox, in front of the White House and expound any cock-eyed theory of foreign policy you want so long as you don’t tell people to fire a pistol through the White House door. If you are stupid then only stupid people will listen to you. Come to think of it, you’d probably draw quite a crowd up there. There is no such thing as “free speech zones!” Right now we have the silliest set up the world has ever seen. Texas Patriots cannot talk about Texas independence outside a “free speech zone” at San Jacinto while some nut jobs can put a reward on the Internet for a police officer’s head. Am I the only one laughing here? Oh darn! My bad. The nut jobs were black. That explains it.

Right to bear arms. Did you ever stop to think how many hours have been spent trying to get around this one line amendment? It is simple. Translated into Texan it simply states, “Y’all can have guns.” The Constitution puts limits on the Federal government. In the so called Wild Wild West the local sheriff controlled guns quite well. And people don’t have to be told not to carry a gun to church. Now that’s CHURCH, boys and girls, not Mosques! You should carry a gun there. Bad people will always get guns. Good people need guns to shoot bad people. You’ll never run out of bad people with guns. Every now and then I say something profound. It happens. I sit here on this porch with a cigarette and a glass of Jim Beam and the spirit comes upon me. Once the spirit told me, “When you’re hiding under your desk as some nut is shooting everybody in your office, you won’t be worried about commas in the second amendment, you’ll be worried about your ASS!”

Presidents don’t make laws, they formulate policy. Now, work with me here, ok? Some guy gets elected based on ideas he has about how do direct the nation. He has goals. He takes these ideas to Congress. You know, that bunch of wine heads you pay a lot for nothing? He says, “I want some kind of affordable health care so folks can see a doctor without selling their first born. You guys work it out and send it over to my house and I’ll sign it for you.” Then the Congress draws something up. It can be as simple as the sudden realization that you can’t control doctors, and you shouldn’t, but you can put a leash on insurance companies. You see, there’s your problem. Some doctor comes up with a treatment and puts an astronomical price on it, the insurance companies say, “Heck we’ll pay that,” and they pass the cost right on down to Suzie Sweetcheeks working as a waitress down at Mel’s Diner. Just tell the insurance companies they can pay all they want, but they can’t gouge the public for their extravagance. The Congress does all the work, the President signs it, and he looks like a great innovator while hanging out at the golf course and kissing a few babies.

To have a country you almost must have borders. I think the rules to enter the country should at least be as stringent as the ones governing admission to a biker bar, ok? I mean, you set up a country, draw a circle around it and say, “We be here!” Then you put people in charge of that and tell them, “Shoot anybody who climbs over that there fence.” Now, there will be a little bit of an outcry from the climbers for a few days, but eventually they’ll figure it out. I am not unfeeling. When they start throwing their kids over the fence, spank their asses and throw them BACK! Shoot the parents. And drug smugglers? No problem! When you catch them just make them eat their fill of whatever they are bringing into the country and burn the rest. Uh, don’t burn marijuana. That doesn’t work. Send that to Austin. Them boys will take it from there.

Welfare. Wow! Where do I start? Ok, don’t have it. In all my years I’ve never seen a skeleton lying in a ditch by the side of the road. Know why you have riots in Ferguson? Them people have too much energy and too much time on their hands. They don’t have to work and dinner is always on the table. Michael Brown stole cigars, not Little Debbie cakes, although from his picture I know he’s seen a few Little Debbies in his time. Hey, news flash. Necessity is the mother of invention. Hunger does away with a lot of tootie fruity ideas. I used to have a lot of pie in the sky theories. Then I went to Nashville and them fellers simplified all that nonsense. Pie in the sky got reduced to pie in one lesson.

Separation of church and state. I love this. Three kids get reprimanded for praying in the corner of a school yard while some Imam prays over Congress. You can’t make this stuff up, folks. Here’s the Congress of the United States sitting there blinking while some raghead babbles on and on about Allah. And not one of them, even got up to go to the restroom. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I said “Raghead,” get over it! I told you they were wine heads. Hey, it’s not just up in Washington, we got a few of these idiots running loose in Austin. A few years ago a congressman down here introduced a resolution acknowledging Albert DeSalvo’s contribution to birth control and the Texas congress overwhelmingly approved it. He let the resolution be all printed up with a pretty bow around it before he told the voice of the people that Albert was the Boston strangler. Like I said, you can’t make this stuff up! You cannot separate moral teachings from government, or maybe that’s the problem here, hmmmmm? After years and years of trying to sterilize the human soul we have a congress full of, well, wine heads.

And last but not least, Gay Marriage. (May I have a drum roll please!) This all stems from licensing. Let’s look at marriage license. Billy Joe Jim Bob falls in love with Suzie Sweetcheeks. “Gee, Suzie, I sho’ Nuff would like to jump in your drawers.” “But, Billy Joe, you know we’s got to go down to the court house and gets us one of them marriage licenses afore we can do that. And they’s rules!” Billy Joe scratches his head, “Rules?” Suzie continues, “Why yeah. First I gotta be a girl, and you gotta be a boy” Now, Billy Joe already had already figured that part out so there was no problem there. “Then, Billy Joe, we gots to go to the doctor so’s you don’t give me the Clap like your cousin gave Miss Elderberry the school teacher.” Billy Joe agrees to that. “Then, we’s gotta find twenty dollars, cause that’s what the government charges so we can say the words over to the church.” Well, Suzie and Billy Joe do tie the knot and live happily ever after. Billy Joe even becomes a pillar of the community, he and Suzie get a mortgage on a double wide and raise their boy to be a great leader. Suzie, and Billy Joe Abbott were very proud of him. Now, that was a pretty good poke at Texas white trash, and I am qualified to do that because I’M Texas white trash. Kinda like some black folks using that word we crackers can’t even write in a letter to mama, but we all know how that goes, now don’t we? Ok, now remove marriage license from the equation. See how that works? Then people so inclined can just trot down to the church of the Pink Flamingo and get hitched. Oh, and by the way, if we have this “separation of church and state” how’d a marriage license get through the church doors in the first place. I’m confused. And tax credits for fellers marrying fellers? Just add a square to the tax forms. Shouldn’t take much time or ink to do that. They printed up ObamaCare, didn’t they? One added feature. If you have to license something then just license it! All licenses must be renewed from time to time. Say after two years, things just aren’t working out you just don’t renew and go your merry ways. No more divorces!

Life’s most difficult challenges become so simple when you just step back and look at them. And while you’re laughing consider this. All my suggestions would work. Well, they’d work until the liberals got involved. But they’re too well fed and just have too much time on their hands. Good day!

Pig Iron

Since I was stupid enough to jump off into this racial stuff yesterday I might as well swim out and shoot the curl, so here goes. Now, I may be wrong but I don’t really think anyone hates on any one group of people nowadays based on simply who they are. Well, maybe the Muslims, but the whole world is down on them right now so we’ll save that for a later discussion. For now let’s just keep it to black, white, brown, and yellow.

When I was growing up in Louisiana anything Dr. King said was immediately dismissed by the whites. Any politician who was even seen in the same room was him was viewed with a very jaundiced eye. When Lyndon Johnson signed the civil rights bills all the grown ups around me called him everything but a white man. For all you Nortés out there that’s a Texas insult. He’s from Texas, he’s white . . . well, anyway. That didn’t keep them from voting for this oil rich, war mongering numbskull, but I digress. Now, where was I? Oh yes, Dr. King. Anyway, this man won a Nobel prize, was a doctor, and changed history and even my grandmother spit on the ground every time his name was mentioned.

The difference between Texas and the deep south was as different as, well, black and white. When I left Shreveport in 1962 the schools were segregated, and boys and girls, they weren’t fooling around. On my first day of school in Texas my dad asked if there were any blacks in my class and I told him yes. Texas had integrated with no fanfare. And don’t go Googling or Wikipediaing, I was THERE! The kids never paid it any mind.But black people were different back then. They were kinda, well, just like us with a different complexion. They had names like Thomas, or Kate, and they stayed pretty much low key. In fact it was usually us white kids that approached them. We didn’t buy into all the politics. This kids were THERE, might as well trade lunches.

It wasn’t until the mid sixties or so that problems began to develop. The radical elements began to capitalize on the differences between people and their ire spilled into the streets. Over a period of about thirty years the blending of cultures began to take hold and the kids we shared lunch with came of age. While there were still fires burning in Watts people like the Apostle Claver T Kamau Imani, and others began to exert an effect on the national consciousness, and an entire new class of American came about.

There are two kinds of metal in the world. There is steel, forged by fire, tempered, strengthened, and strong, and then there’s pig iron. I’m not going to sit here on a Sunday morning and try to explain to you how pig iron is made but I can tell you that it’s not worth a crap. I don’t know who invented that stuff, but it’s about as useless as a cat in a dog fight. Well, people like the Apostle are forged steel, and people like Al Sharpton are pig iron.

People bring to the table who they are. When a person goes through the fire of life he either becomes steel, or he is pig iron. I am very aware of this, and my forté is that I tend to vocalize it. Now, naturally, when I do this the more liberal contention out there will jump up and call me a racist, and I love it. When someone does that it simply means that they have just run out of a logical argument and have retreated to mantras taught to them by people like Sharpton and Jackson.

While the country has moved past all the nonsense folks like Jack in the Sharp are still trying to convince people to dance around a fire and throw rocks. They are doing that right NOW in Ferguson, Missouri. I think it’s pertinent to note that these two are Nortés in New York City! I think New York City is all very fine, on an island and all. Only problem is that it needs to be a little farther out in the ocean. Maybe near the Canary Islands or someplace like that. Anyway, they sit up there in the ghettos of Long Island and spew their half baked philosophy out to the nation. If you differ with them then you be a racist. The problem is there are more idiots than thinking people in the country. It’s easier to riot than to work. They call black folk who work, send their kids to school, and like the opera “Uncle Toms.” If that’s true then what are white folk like me who eat ribs, like James Brown and drink wine? “Uncle Rhemuses?”

What did come out of the sixties was a whole bunch of educated black voices. The Apostle, my friend Byron Antoine Wesley, Dr. John David Manning, and a host of others standing up and saying EXACTLY what I’m saying here! So why do people like Jack in the Sharp do what they do? They do it for money folks. They make a lot of money sewing a world view that died with George Wallace, but it works. And the mainstream media microwaves this TV dinner and serves it up every day. The Apostle can give a speech to a group on how to change the demographics of the Republican party to better Texas and not one WORD will hit CNN. You know what people will see? They’ll see some product of the Great Society telling a reporter, as two charred babies are removed dead from a burning building, that she is deeply concerned because her purse is still in the building and her food stamp card is in it! You can’t make this stuff up, people. You canNOT group good black people with that kind of pig iron! That IS racist, and it’s crazy.

I can’t tell you how this is going to turn out. I can tell you that it’s going to be violent, and a lot of good people are going to get hurt. I can tell you that Jack in the Sharp are going to laugh all the way to the bank, the New YORK bank, as the country disintegrates into chaos. And I can tell you that Texas will not be a part of that because along with the black people struggling for a better life there are a whole BUNCH of us white folk who shared that lunch in school so long ago.