Getting to know the neighbors can be daunting. It seems that in the poorer neighborhoods people mingle a lot better than they do in the more affluent ones, and I’ve been in both. Berry Creek, in Georgetown, Texas was the upper end of the top end. Even the “garden homes” would shame most of the homes in my native Killeen. Now, to be sure, I was certified white trash. I grew up in a little town in Texas called Simmonsville, later absorbed by Killeen. We were so poor that the people on welfare were the cream of society because they had a check. That put them right up there with the civil service in the eyes of the little town.

So, as luck would have it, I won the real estate lottery, and the Beverly Hillbillies moved to Berry Creek. We ended up owning three homes there. My hand would literally shake as I wrote the checks for the mortgages each month. Our homes sat on the golf course, the main house, a recreation of Elvis’s Graceland,was positioned on the twelfth green. I was a gold member of the Berry Creek Country Club, with unlimited golf privileges. Please note that I can’t hit a golf ball, but I can drink beer, and drive a golf cart like nobody’s business.

We had NO contact with the neighbors. Their shorts were in such a knot that it amazed me they could go to the bathroom. Since my roots were back in Killeen, and my friends couldn’t afford the gas for the fifty mile trip to what was basically North Austin, nobody came a calling. When we went to the club for dinner we sat at a large, round table. No one sat near us. We were the turds in the swimming pool. (They didn’t like us going to the pool, either!)

As luck would have it, I ended up divorced, living in the main house alone. I had this friend in L.A. Lance had met me on YouTube. I admired his videos. Lance was, well is, a video genius. He did it all. He used Final Cut Pro, and was a wiz at blending story, sound, and special effects. He had this dream of coming to Texas. One day I got a call. He wasn’t COMING to Texas, he as IN Texas. Right down the street at the bus station. He had no idea how hot it was here so I had to rush to pick him up before he had a heat stroke. Poor guy showed up in a leather jacket during the summer. Hey, he’s from SoCal, ok?

After he settled in we hung out on the porch and got to know each other. Now, this guy is like Bob Denver from Gilligan’s Island, complete with the Dixie Cup sailor’s cap, and he even played a flute. My son, and his wife, Jackie moved in along about this time, and we had a rather comfortable little group. About a week or so after he arrived, Lance received a package that he had mailed himself from California prior to hopping on the bus. Several quart jars of his “prescription” to help him get through the summer. After we saw him unpack we just waited for the cops to show up. I’ll never understand how Lance got away with that. While I, myself, do not partake, suffice to say everybody else did, including the cat, and in short order the house on the twelfth green became the Yellow Submarine. This was a very laid back group. We didn’t mind that the neighbors didn’t have anything to do with us, we barely noticed that there were other HOUSES in the area.

One Sunday afternoon we were setting up a cookout on the back lawn. We put meat on the grill, I got beer, wine, and cheese, and we commenced our own private party as the golfers played through. My son and I looked up, and here came Lance with a water pipe I’d gotten from Afghanistan. And brothers and sisters, he was open for business. My son rushed over and let him know that he WAS in Texas, and law enforcement frowned on such action, whereupon, Lance corrected the situation by returning to the house, and emerging with a bowl. Not the bowl you think, but a real BOWL! A soup bowl you could put an entire serving of Campbell’s soup into. Like the Lord said, “Filled and pressed down!”

As the golfers played through, Lance fired up, and enjoyed the view. I jumped off into a pitcher of martinis, and I must admit, the view wasn’t bad. As luck would have it, it wasn’t long before the smell permeated the atmosphere, and drew the attention of two rather distinguished looking gentlemen who drove their cart right up onto the lawn to inquire as to just what did wet think we were doing. They  had a bottle! Well, there was no getting out of this. Lance, being Lance, simply showed them the bowl, and then astounded me by asking them if they’d like to “hang out!” As I tried to construct my legal defense, to my amazement, they sat down. Lance rolled a “Fat Boy,” and passed it around.

Then another golf cart showed up . . . and another . . . and another, until we had a lawn full if people I’d never met in my eight years at Berry Creek. There was also a traffic jam on the twelfth, with a couple of carts just going in circles. The course Marshall didn’t mind because he was sitting with Lance! The day melted into the evening, and soon it was gone, as if it never happened. Lance went home after that, but he left his mark. I go there now and then, pause in front of the house on Oak Tree Drive, and wonder what became of all those people. What I do know is on one Sunday afternoon, for a little while, we were all neighbors.


Knock Knock


“Knock Knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“The Police.”

“Police who?”

“The Police who’re gonna light your ass up if you don’t open this door right now!”

No knock home invasions are just about the stupidest procedure that has ever been devised by man. Combine that with relying on a tip from some meth head, and you have the perfect storm. A call comes into the TIPS line. So and so has some grass and he’s thinking about selling it. Before I go on let me tell you about the town in question. Killeen, Texas. Ok, where do I begin? I grew up there. People in Killeen think the world must be flat because when people leave town they never come back. It’s been called the “City without limits,” but that didn’t really strike home until the city council extended said limits almost to Austin! Everything north of Rancier, and west of W. S. Young is a crack house. I crappith thee not! If you wanna get robbed just take a stroll down tenth street about one A. M. with gold teeth in your mouth. About the only thing you can say about Killeen that is different is that you can get anything you want to eat there. American, Mexican, small dogs, tourists, you name it. You can buy dope easier in Killeen than you can an Apple Computer. The town sits like a tumor on Fort Hood, sucking the life out of each soldier’s payday. Is there anything I missed? Recently took an award for being the best town to marry a hooker! Hey, you can’t make this stuff up.

Practically every single dope head in town is some kind of “informant,” thereby assuring spare change for a “rock,” and a form of immunity, so they ring up the line regularly. Forget that crap about “snitches,” they’re all snitches. So, back to the original story line. Tip comes in, the cars roll up, and the hood fills up with law. Doors get kicked in, homeboys go to jail, become snitches, and get out in two weeks with “time served.” So, what’s the legal implications when a bunch of cops kick in a door, surprise the occupants therein, and an officer gets killed? Why, you charge the shooter with capital murder! Oh, did I mention the Bell County Justice Department? Yeah! You know, the same clowns who arrested C. J. Grisham for not breaking the law. Impeding an officer during the consumption of a donut, or something like that. During said raid no dope was found. Officer got killed. Didn’t affect the movement of one gram of dope in Killeen.

Back to the “knock knock” joke. What’s wrong with calling out with one of them bull horns something like, “We have a search warrant. This is the Police?” “Oh, Wilbur, that’ll take away the advantage of surprise.” Oh, so it’s better to go charging in, with no knowledge of what’s inside, scaring the pee pee out of everyone, and getting an officer killed, right? The sad thing is that in spite of its bastard nature, Killeen has a fairly good police force, and to get an officer killed like this is a crime against humanity. There is something fundamentally wrong with no knock searches. The fourth amendment protects us against unreasonable searches, and not being told that a search warrant has been issued, and crashing through someone’s front door is unreasonable.

Police work is hard enough without this. When just walking up to a traffic stop can get you killed an officer does not need to be put in danger like this. It’s not the cops, folks, it’s the system. Wanna get really pissed off? Let’s just say the raid went off as planned. The cops entered the apartment found a joint, arrested the guy, and off to Bell County he goes. Then, he gets a deal, snitches, and walks out. First off, what did the joint hurt? Second, why are we paying these people in the Justice Center? Knock knock? Who’s there? An officer who deserves a chance to go home to his family.

That Was The Week That Was Was The Week That Was

From reflections to events, but that’s the way my week usually goes. Unlike other writers, I don’t just jump on the morning news, even in a big event, I let the story “season,” because first thoughts are never the correct thoughts. What happened is never as important as why it happened, because if we don’t reflect, and learn, then we’ll just keep doing the same thing over and over again, and, as you probably know, that’s the definition of insanity.
I began the week with an idea of the eventual breakup of the American Dream, i.e. set up a government to steal everything, and try to cram it into the Beltway. In “God Bless Americans,” I said, “As we all know, the American government has been overreaching for years, and part of this is because of the artificial definitions of who’s who, and what’s what. Most of the time Federal mandates, and decisions are mandatory, and arbitrary. States make laws, but why? All Uncle Sam has to do is make His law, and the state legislature becomes a complete waste of time. K. C. Massey can carry a gun under Texas law, Sammy says, “No,” K. C. goes to jail. Someone can fire up a joint in Malibu, DEA doesn’t like it, guy gets arrested and has a criminal record. Fundamentalist Mormon wants to marry twin sisters and the Fed can’t seem to find the ink to put one more square on a tax form. See where this is going, folks?”
From there I let old Brother Greed get ahold of me and penned, If I Had Won The Powerball. I ain’t even gonna lie to you. I had that money spent, and I listed all my dreams for the public to see. “If I had won the Powerball. I sat up last night waiting for the Powerball drawing. I didn’t get a single number. You’d think there would be a prize for that! Anyway, like practically every other fool who invested in castles in the air, and purchased a Powerball ticket, I had big plans. I’d like to list them here. They ranged from the sublime to the sub-slime, but here goes.” Well, as you probably figured out, I didn’t win, and had to rush down to pay the light bill the next day.
Politics raised its ugly head next, ugly being the key word. Hey, for the record, I understand why Bill cheated on Hillary, ok. I kept having images of Arkansas politicians, ugly women, and cornbread swirling around in my head and out popped, Dead As Cornbread. “From White Water to Benghazi, Hillary has danced on a razor’s edge for years. Other people in the public eye can commit just a smidgen of what she’s pulled and they’re thrown out of the Army, charged with a crime, end up with public ridicule, and Alex Jones accuses them of leading the New World Order. Hillary could pee on the White House steps and the Liberal Left would say she had found a new way to fix global warming. Am I the only one who thinks there is something wrong with this picture?”
Where Everybody Knows Your Name was next. I have no idea where this idea sprang from, but I suspect it was a bar tab. “Places like this never last, and that’ sad. Just a place where seasoned men come to relax and compare lives. I gain more there than any other place I go. I listen more than I talk, and I learn. These guys view things like ISIS with a very jaundiced eye. And everybody knows your name. I like that.”
That night I listened to my friend, Scott Binsack, reflect on his belief in an Eternal Creator, and wrote, In God We Trust. “God got expelled from school, His commandments from the courthouse square, and from the halls of Congress, and we wonder what ever happened to the country. God is a nice guy. You don’t have to throw him out, just ask Him to leave, and he’ll oblige. And, when He does leave what do you have left? Bruce Gender, Hillary, Obama, and Imam whoever! Children don’t say prayers, or the Pledge of Allegiance in school anymore. They learn how to do drugs, and different sexual preferences, depending on the gender, or cross-gender of the teacher. Welcome to a Godless world!”
I’m very TexCentric, and it showed in Olga vs The American Dream. “This was a big heads up to the third world. While Washington wasn’t invaded, America, for once, had to stand down. We, of course, put the spin on it. We were like Putin recently said. We were like playing chess with a pigeon. We knocked over all the pieces, pooped on the board, and then stomped around like we won. Still, we had the dream. Or rather, Martin Luther King had a dream. Our dream had caught the last train for the coast.”
Seems I was drawn to the past a lot this week. During lunch with some old friends, we got to talking about our high school days, and a few things came to mind. In The Last Picture Show I wrote about things that would make kids in New York, or California would cringe at. “I didn’t have a pickup. I had a ’54 Chevy. The good thing about it was you could get four friends in the trunk when you went to the show. That meant for you, and the girl, it cost about seventy cents to get in. That’s right, one girl, five boys. Hey, we weren’t Muslims, she was safe. Also, if you were lucky she would be an Army brat and have five dollars or so in her purse, which would turn into buttered popcorn for everybody. The way you convinced her to give up the money was a gift, usually flowers, which meant a swing through the graveyard on the way to pick her up. They didn’t show that in the Last Picture Show either!”
By the week’s end I was blowing through pretty good. Still reflecting on Scott’s broadcast, I did a commentary on my first book, Sharon. “The Muslim community has got to come to the realization that the volatile section of Radical Islam is so dangerous to the rest of the world that they, the “good” Muslims need to handle it, or we, the rest of humanity will have to handle it for them.”
I was flying so high that I began to generate “doubles,” by this time. When I get an idea I just write it, no waiting for later. After listening to a Trump speech I resurrected Little Red Riding Republican with a nice 2016 update. “Well, that’s where Little Red Riding Republican comes in. She had been raised in the wisdom handed down from generation to generation. She had eyes of blue, and flaxen hair that fell down around her shoulders. She would take long walks in the country, and one day, during one of these walks she became lost and a figure appeared out of thin air. It was a black knight!”
And, last, but certainly not least, Black Lives Don’t Matter! Actually, I’ve toyed with this title for months, but I just couldn’t take the edge off enough. When someone came back with ALL Lives Matter, I thought to myself, “Heck, why don’t we just join hands and sing, “We Shall Overcome?” Finally, I came up with a perfect second line. For the record, Black Lives Matter is the epitome of Liberal Stupidity. You simply have to have the guts to put it out there. Everybody knows movements like this are stupid, and the originators laugh all the way to the bank. Unfortunately for them I write for the Tea Party, not the Pot Party! That’s why they call me Bill the Butcher! “Black lives don’t matter! My life matters! In the words of Billy Joe Shaver, “When you have no way to go you’d better know I’m gonna get my share of mine.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a racist. More than that, I’m a Texan. Texas wasn’t built on a food stamp. America has evolved into a welfare state. In Texas we have a thing called a “51% sign.” Now, it’s supposed to refer to the amount of food vs alcohol that forbids the carrying of a gun within an establishment. In America it is the percentage of citizens working every day, as opposed to those lining up at the welfare office for their daily bread.”
Sunday is a day of rest. Well, maybe for some, but for me it’s a day of reflection. They don’t rest, so I don’t rest. I have been called, A Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin, and that’s good, because when the libtards pounce on me I can always say, “Hey! I told you I was stupid from the start.” Have a blessed week, and keep looking for America. It’s somewhere out there.

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

The not so Ok Corral

The not so Ok Corral is what we have in Oregon. My views on this will astound you. First, some geographic study. First off, it’s the West Coast. If you grabbed the United States by Maine, and tilted it, all the fruits and nuts would roll to the West Coast. Oregon, California, has legal gay marriage, and all the pot you want to smoke. My own son lives in Cali, and he’s now crazy too. We pray for him often.

So we have one Ammon Bundy. I’m not going to even mention the other guy, because he’s an also-ran riding on the Bundy coat tails. When Cliven Bundy circled his wagons it was almost plausible. Actually, it was quite funny watching the Federal Gumshoes run with their tails between their legs, and having to return all the cattle they’d stole, but I digress. The history of the Bundy Ranch, public sentiment, and general hate of the Feds made quite an event.

Let me tell you what happens when you hit the national media. You get addicted. There’s gold in them thar hills, and I don’t care how you slice it, between personal appearances, books, articles, TV, and just plain letting your face hang out, you will put up some coin if you get in with the right bunch of fellows. Cliven made a hit, Ammon wanted to ride the freeway, but are we sure Hank done it this way?

Now let’s look at logistics. How do you change things? You go to Congress, beat the bushes, bang your head on the wall, and by and by, you mount the Capitol steps and wave your gun at the DPS while they smile like they got good sense. You don’t seize a rest stop in some spot in the woods that tree huggers go to and smoke dope! Oh, and make love to their boyfriend, thought I’d just throw that in there.

I saw the lawyer lady going on and on about “Territories” with a “T” and independent states, sovereignty and all that. Listen lady, there’s only one sovereign, independent block of land in the continental United States and that’s TEXAS! All the other states are just a bunch of welfare babies sucking of the Lone Star teat! Got that? Good, now let’s move on.

One thing I’m glad to see is the Feds showed restraint this time. Shucks, ain’t nobody out there but Yogi Bear. “Hope they have a pic-a-nic basket, Boo!” What they’re gonna do is wait for the basket to run out, and barring a mass suicide, when they run out of beer, they’ll come marching out into the arms of a fairly lucrative book deal. You don’t overthrow the government by taking over a rest stop. Wonder if I can get a deal helping them ghost write? Hey! I didn’t take the bathroom, I’m only gonna write about it. Oh, the picture on this article; Yeah, well, I was looking for a “Bundy” and that guy popped up.

Live Like You Wanna Live

When the Republic of Texas is reestablished it’s not going to be like everybody thinks. Texas has a combination of the spirit of liberty, and a little bit of common sense. We believe it’s the government’s job to pave roads, put out fires and leave folks alone! So many problems in the world could be easily solved if these concepts were adhered to.
In the Republic we’d have a simple tax. A nine, or ten percent tax on everything you buy would pay all the bills. Consider this; how much tax does a meth dealer pay? I mean, you can’t exactly put that number on a line in a 1040 form. Cash received: Ten million dollars. Expenses: One bottle of Drano, and a horse tranquilizer. Net profit: Nine million, nine hundred, ninety-nine thousand dollars and ninety-nine cents. Much easier to just tax the dealer on the new Mercedes he buys. See how that works?
“Oh,” you say, “but meth is illegal!” Au Contraire! Not in the New Republic. If you want fire up, just trot down to Spec’s and pick up a quarter bag, rock, or anything else you desire. We ain’t got no war on drugs, and all the former Cartel members are back mowing lawns where they should be. You see, that’s where wars lead you. You take prisoners, i.e. and kid puffing a joint, you gotta put ‘em in POW camps, (prisons) and you have to feed them. Soon, you got prisons full of pot heads and the guys in the Cartels are driving those Mercedes I was talking about. “But, Wilbur, dope is bad for you. “DUDE! So are cigarettes. So is McDonald’s for that matter.
Gay marriage? Since the Republic will not be issuing any marriage licenses we won’t have to worry about that. Marry a tiger to a chair for all we care. You have the Government Issue permission for a personal event, and then tell me all about separation of church and state. We’ll leave pimping to the whore houses. If you can find someone to pronounce the vows, live like you wanna live. You want to marry your same sex friend, and settle down in a neighborhood full of redneck Texans, HEY, who am I, right? Personally, I find all sex disgusting unless I’m directly involved.
Pro-Choice. No worries. If some girl gets pregnant and just can’t see having a baby we will provide free abortions. However, since the girl has already proved that she is a homicidal, irresponsible slut, we will also tie them tubes while we’re in there. Now the Republic doesn’t mind you being a slut, but you only got one get out of slut free card. After that, like I said, live like you wanna live.
Gun control. This one is easy. You see, we’re gonna correct the constitutions. Second Amendment: Uh, ya’ll can have guns, ok?” You don’t even need a Supreme Court for that one. They’ll be too busy marrying gays anyway. We’ll basically put that court back where it belongs. Wills, probate, traffic tickets, stuff that matters. We’ll leave making laws to the legislature. Balance of power? Shucks. If they give a ruling that oversteps their bounds the president will just go over and fire ‘em. See how that lightens the load?
Immigration. Now this is a tough one. Within thirty days of the formation of the Republic, seeing as we will have no corporate tax, every company in California will move to Austin, so we’ll have to be diligent about those people coming here taking jobs away from Texans. Also, since Texas produces the best of everything we will have to have standards on the hemp crop.
International relationships. Short and sweet: We’ll hire Putin.
Death penalty. We have to concede here. Texas will be a new Republic, and money might be tight for the first few years. We can’t have no long drawn out appeal process, so a thirty day limit on that stuff will be required. Also, we can’t afford no fancy-dancy lethal injection. We’re just a gonna hang you. That way we can reuse the rope.
I really think this is gonna work out. Texas will be the greatest country in the world. Oh, yeah, Muslims. . . QUICKIE MARTS! I should run for president, I really should.

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

Liberal Democrats

I have a friend that I never talk to outside of a friendly “like” on her kids’ pictures. Why? Because she’s a liberal democrat. Her philosophy is simple. If it’s liberal democrat, she’s IN! Run dead babies up the flagpole two at a time; FINE! She’s a liberal democrat. Let illegals enter the country and rape eight year olds; FINE! She’s a liberal democrat. Put an illegal alien in the White House; FANTASTIC! She’s a LIBERAL DEMOCRAT!

Liberal democrats never look at an issue any deeper than to see if it’s crazy enough to be liberal democrat. They are so stupid it defies logic. Pass laws against Bar B Q smoke in Austin. Great idea! It interferes with all the pot smoke drifting around. Why do we issue these idiots drivers licenses? And they spring to the defense of any liberal democratic idea no matter how far out in left field it is. Never have a conversation with a liberal democrat. You may as well be discussing the Karma Sutra with the pastor at the Westboro Baptist Church.

Gay marriage? Why heck yeah. LIBERAL DEMOCRATS! Give up all our guns and hope the cartels will find Jesus! Liberal Democrats! Vote for Hilliary Clinton? They voted for Obama, didn’t they? Obamacare is a procto with a dry glove. LIBERAL DEMOCRATS! And it’s all Bush’s fault!

So, what do we do? Well, you can’t just shoot ’em. There’s laws. You can’t reason with them. You may as well be arguing with a chimpanzee at the zoo about the price of bananas. What we need to do is convince them that the voting booths are at the food stamp office. Then, while they’re down there holding their number, hopefully the polls will close. Since they love gay marriage so much maybe in a generation or two they’ll become extinct. Unless they find a way to procreate like an amoeba because they’re LIBERAL DEMOCRATS!

Black on white, black on black, and a few Mexicans on the side

Believe it or not, I actually study issues to come up with my assaults on the public consciousness. There’s this guy, Stefan Molyneux, over in England, that I watch on YouTube extensively, who is a sort of social scientist, and I pick up a lot of insight from him. Brits are a weird lot. They come off like a liberal, but they MEAN it! And they’re so polite. For instance, in his analyzation of Trayvon Martin, and Michael Brown he’s oh so politically correct, apologizing for all the facts he’s presenting while he very gently reminds you that they were a couple of thugs. He be like, “There was marihuana in Michael Brown’s toxicology results, and while I understand that forty percent of American youths have used it, do you suppose that may have affected his judgement?” Then he goes on to show the three absolutely stupid things Brown did that day that changed him from a “gentle giant” into a road kill. So absolutely British! I love it!

He’s also very good with statistics. He breaks down crime with black on white, black on black, and a few Mexicans on the side, and he nails it down with irrefutable numbers! Being British he doesn’t have a dog in this fight. He comes from a completely different culture so when the talks about liberal democrats he just laces that boot right up. He points out the absolute failure of the entitled culture the Democrats have constructed, and explains how it has completely destroyed the black family unit. I was actually surprised when he pointed out that seventy percent of blacks were born outside of traditional marriage. He states point blank that Rap Music is the pits, glorifying crime, and blaming white folks for everything from slavery to the price of eggs. Talk about swatting bees, I’ll bet Al Sharpton HATES this guy!

The fact is the black contingent in this country is a train wreck, and the white liberal Democrats laid the track. Around the edges of this social omelette are profound black voices, the Apostle Claver Kamau-Imani, Kent Franks, and Antoine Wesley screaming from the sidelines while people like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson are race baiting, AND of course passing the plate for the love offering. And blacks follow these anarchists like the Pied Piper of Harlem, ripping up their own neighborhoods as a protest against the whites. Burn down the black owned grocery store. They showed US!

People aren’t born lazy, they are MADE lazy! If you take a wild bear and start throwing him a crumb here and there you get an entirely different animal. He’s still a bear, but he feels you OWE him breakfast, and he will HURT you if he doesn’t get it. Transfer that to people. The Democrats have it down to a fine art. Bread and circuses. Worked for Caesar! Reducing or doing away with the welfare system will not profoundly affect the national debt, but the very act of earning their daily bread will greatly affect the black social consciousness. They have to be made to understand that it is a good thing to have a married couple in the home with jobs. That’s a hard point to drive home when you have Oreo Cookies like Snoop Dog screaming, “Nigga, Nigga, Nigga” at the top of their lungs, and if that’s all black youth hear, that will be their standard. THAT will be their world view! And if my use of your sacred mantra shocks you, just remember I’m white trash, and I grew up in PoDunk, Texas, so tell ME all about poverty!

We will not fix this the day after tomorrow, and we won’t fix it through hate. Don’t hate Michael Brown, hate the system that made him who he was. Hate the people who lied to him, and put him in the middle of that road that day. Blacks swarming around Barak Obama (another Oreo Cookie) completely lose sight of the fact that the Democratic party fought FOR slavery, gave us Jim Crow, and a very well organized Klu Klux Klan. It’s harder to work than line up at the food stamp office. It’s harder to finish school than to hang out in the HOOD, and listen to some Rapper blame Ronald Reagan for crack! It’s HARDER to support your kids instead of referring to their mother as a “Ho,” and shirking your responsibilities as a father until you son is lying in a pool of blood for bull rushing a police officer! Hard words Homies? You may swat them bees now!

Cannon Ball and a Feather

I was on the radio with KC Massey last night. He was detailing his arrest on the border. I’m not going to go into the whole thing, but it was two hours of one flub up after another by our United States Government. Then, like a bolt from the blue it hit me. The Lord appeared before me in glory and asked, “What did you expect?” The last thing the American government did right was . . . was . . . was, well, they’ve been in business for over two hundred sum odd years so I know there HAS to be SOMETHING there.

Let’s just look at the stuff that goes, “bump” in the night. Get drunk the night before and get the president’s head blown off the next day by a warehouse clerk. Get run out of Vietnam by a bunch of kids in sandals and pajamas. Screw up a burglary a CRACKHEAD could have done better. Solicit oral sex from a school girl and too STUPID to pay her dry cleaning bill. Go into two wars looking for one old man on a walking stick who basks away sipping iced tea in a condo thirty five miles away, and last but not least, elect a president that makes PUTIN look good! And you pay money for this, people. Matter of fact, you paid money for this TODAY!

We need to change a few things. With our sterling record in the Middle East we need to retire the bald eagle and replace it with a yellow bellied sap sucker. Need to make Old Glory flame retardant, and we need to appoint Bill Gates secretary of the treasury. Now we have Jade Helm. While I was concerned at first, I’m at ease now. The American Government is doing it! Now, if it were being headed up by the Mexican cartels I’d already on my way to Canada. Don’t think so? How’s that Jimmy Hoffa case working out for you, huh? Proof POSITIVE the government did NOT have a thing to do with it. I think that the president had a secret meeting and asked his cabinet, “Who can we make war on and win?” John Kerry said, “Ourselves?”

About the only thing they ever fined tuned was extortion, when they dreamed up the IRS, but heck, the Hell’s Angels can do that. Embargoed Cuba pretty good. Yep, fixed THOSE cigars didn’t they? I happen to be a cigar smoker and lifting the blockade of Cuba is about the only thing I agree with.

The DisUnited States of Illusion keeps limping along with its porous border, funny money, and politically correct president, and we’ll keep paying for it hoping the Chinese don’t foreclose the mortgage. Oh yeah, we did that too! In a thousand years some kid’ll ask his teacher what happened to the ancient empire of America, and the teacher will say, “Oh, they started marrying goats, calling toilette paper wealth, and all got strung out on pot. Mexico finally annexed them.”

From a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

If I Were President

If I were president (of the Republic of Texas) I would have me what they call a platform. Now, I know some of my ideas might need a little work, but bear with me. It’s early and I’m on my first cup of coffee. That having been said, I’ve given this considerable thought, and I think I’ve come up with viable solutions for a number of issues vexing our society. First you have totally reject all American ideas because we’ve seen where that goes, ok?

Taxes. You have to have money to run a country. That’s a given. There always seems to be a flock of people who are “equaler” than the rest of us. While most of the people are working eight days a week, and bringing home about half of what they earn there’s these fellers who never seem to write a check. Now that ain’t right. Then you have to set up this IRS thing, because when you’re a robbing folks you simply have to keep their hands in the air while you’re going through their pockets, don’t you know. Well, we’re going to have a simple, flat 9.5% percent tax on everything. From Bibles to beer, when you buy it, we’re going to take that money, send it to Austin, and your never going to see it again. I don’t care if you’re getting paid over the table, under the table, cash, check, or chickens, when you buy, we fly. Mr. Dell will be paying a lot of 9.5, and Brenda, the school teacher, not so much. When they money gets to Austin, we gonna have this feller called a controller. We’re calling him that because he’s gonna comtrol. You see, he’s going to have a budget. The Congress will set that up, and after lengthy debate they will allow so much money for all the public services needed to run the country. It’s real simple. We’re not going to spend money we don’t have, and if you got too much month left at the end of the money then somebody needs to go home until next month. I don’t really think we have to worry about that, though, because a good, pure 9.5 will most likely pay the tab for whatever we need.

Gun control. Well, we won’t have any of that. Now we’re not crazy. We’re going to run a simple background check, and if you’re inclined to rob convenience stores, well, you can’t have one. And I know, I know, bad folks will always find a way. Well, I have a solution for that. If we catch you with a gun, and you’re a criminal, we’re gonna beat you over the head with it and toss you over the Red River, and if you come back we’re a gonna shoot you! There are special cases, and I’ll give you one. Let’s say, just for example, you got this widow woman, Edna, living all alone with her son Adam. She’s got herself an AR-15 and a pistol, but we got a problem. Adam is nuts. Everybody knows it. Nobody in the neighborhood will let him play with their kids, and they watch the women folk real close. Well, the sheriff goes over to old Edna’s house and he explains to her that Adam has one of those mental defects that I can spell here, and it just don’t make any sense at all to let him be around a gun so he’s going to take her stuff down to the station house and lock ’em up until she runs Adam off, at which time her weapons will be returned. But, she inquires, what if some villain comes breaking in the house and tries to rape on her, or worse? Well, it’s simple. She needs to just run down to the basement where Adam likes to hang out, give him an axe, and turn him loose! He’ll be doped up good and proper so he’ll know what to do. Better living through chemistry!

The border. This issue has beguiled far greater minds than mine, but, as always, there is a simple solution. First we have a paradox. If Mexico is so great, then why does the president down there keep throwing them folks over the fence? It’s beyond me, but I don’t worry about why he’s tossing them, I am going to focus on what to do with them after they hit the ground on THIS side. I believe in giving everybody what they want. I can’t see Obama’s presidency ending any time soon. He’s ignored most of the constitution, and since the qualifications to be president didn’t bother him that little two term limit’s not going to mess with him at all, so he’s going to be there, ok? And being a wetback himself he loves “undocumented immigrants!” Give him what he wants. Stick them fellers on a plane and drop them off in New York City! In no time at all Obama will have the Democratic voter base from hell! All hungry, opinionated, and looking for love. I love New York!

Drugs. Well, this one bears some consideration. Drugs aren’t the problem, it’s them folks what can’t pay for them that’s the problem. They always end up a robbing and killing to acquire their drug of choice. Now, since most citizens are packing anyway MOST of this issue will correct itself right away, there always seems to some that slip through the cracks. First off we are going to legalize marijuana. I firmly believe that Texas can grow better grass than any place like, say, California. Since it IS a weed, the price should be right around that of a pack of cigarettes. We’re gonna have to regulate it, just treat it like Jim Beam and that’ll all work out. Yeah, yeah, yeah, high school kids are gonna get some, and like I never drank a beer in high school, ok? Now let’s turn to the harder stuff. Having a joint in bed with your old lady is way beyond smoking meth and eating her face off. I mean, I’m not a doctor, but seems to me that there is a level of toxicity here. We catch you with any of that stuff we’re going to put you on a chain gang until Jesus comes back. Yeah, we’re bringing back work opportunity to the prison system, too. SOMEbody’s got to maintain the roads.

Gay Marriage. In short we don’t care! I’m going to abolish marriage licenses and if you want to marry your CAT, live like you want to live. Now, you have to remember that you’re only like, three percent of the population, and the other ninety-seven percent of us are homophobic, so since you’re supposed to be so “intellectual” do THAT math! We are not going to coddle you, or let you teach our kids, or be a special interest group. I “suggest” you hang around a park in Austin with those of your kind!

Police. In short we won’t have any. Towns can hire private companies and if they don’t want to do that we have sheriffs and deputies. We don’t NEED any loud mouth, trigger happy gumshoes cruising the streets choking people for selling cigarettes! You may swat them bees now. As far as police brutality, since most us will be packing I don’t think that will be an issue. Oh yeah, that little thing about assault on a police officer? Don’t bite off more than you can chew. You shoot some twelve year old kid who points a water pistol at you, and the neighbors hang you, I just hope you have burial insurance because that’s not in the budget!

Freedom of religion. Pray like you want to pray, but the second you start praying to a pipe bomb we’re going to toss YOU over the Red River with all them other rejects. Oklahoma’s gonna LOVE us! We’re going to put God RIGHT back in schools, and while I’m on that subject there WILL be a pledge to the flag EVERY morning. You dont like that go somewhere else and pledge to THAT flag! By the way, school lunches will be free upon request. If we can feed convicts, we can feed the kids!

There are many other issues, to numerous to mention here, but I’ll appoint committees on these as they arise. Nobody with a degree from any place other than Texas will be allowed to serve on these committees before they submit to an MMPI. This is going to be a transition period, and it’s understandable that mistakes will be made, but I think we can work this. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to set up my GoFundMe!

PS: For all you LibTards out there this is what you call “Satire!”

Watch Your Faucets

One thing that bothered me about the Libertarian platform was the attitude toward drugs. Fundamentally I think this is where the party lost ground because no one with one ounce of common sense would ever subscribe to such nonsense. Wanting to legalize, and regulate marijuana ia one thing, but opening the flood gates for all manner of mind altering drugs from grass to spice is another thing all together.

There is a vast gulf between someone who holds a job, pays bills, and enjoys a joint on the back porch on a Saturday night, and someone who robs, lives in the street and their entire existence boils down to the acquisition of another “rock.” We are not talking about the great Brinks robbery here, children, we are talking about someone who will slip in your yard at three AM to steal the brass water faucets from your garden to sell for one more rock, and don’t argue with me because I’ve seen it happen!

There will always be the weak among you. There will always be those who should not indulge in anything stronger than a cup of coffee. On the other hand there are those who drink gallons and are more productive than a Mormon Bishop. People come in many different flavors and one size does NOT fit all! Most normal people will confine their relaxation to alcohol and marijuana. Contrary to what your government tells you there are millions of people who use grass and would never be in the same room with coke. There are rednecks who work construction and never drink anything stronger than beer. Then, there is the subculture.

Call it Ice, Meth, Rock, Spice, or whatever, these drugs are all designed to addict and destroy. There is no such thing as “recreational use!” The user’s entire life is the drug. These drugs have two things in common. They are cheap to produce and more addictive than natural substances. The user on the first use, thinks they can control it. Let me submit; what if practically every person who took the first sip of a cocktail became a full blown dysfunctional alcoholic within one month of that first drink? That’s METH! That’s what you’re really dealing with.

The cartels are raking in the profits. The level of commerce and return on investment would make the old New York Mafia families blush. Their power is growing exponentially and their “rep” right along with it. A reputation is just that. It is a created image contrived to make someone larger than life. Verily, verily I say unto you NOone is larger than life. There is a ceiling. I’ve found one constant that remains true and never changes. All men can be killed. No gang leader is so omnipotent that one bullet will not solve his issues in the blink of an eye. Ask Billy the Kid. Oh, my bad, you can’t. He’s DEAD! So is John Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde and Charles Whitman.

We have to make the cost of dealing these types of drugs so high that the very idea of dabbling in them becomes insane. In Texas when someone is arrested for possession there is a particular charge that most of them incur. “Possession of less than a gram.” This make it a lesser charge invoking state jail, or even time served in the county jail while waiting for trial. Now, let’s do some math.

I can already hear it from the peanut gallery. “Oh, Wilbur, now you’re talking about filling up the prisons with more drug users convicted of victimless crimes.” Well, let me clear a few cells. Turn all the marijuana users loose. There! See how that works? Now, let’s work on that Penal code. First time conviction of possession of these man made poisons . . . Ten years withOUT the possibility of parole. For people caught manufacturing and selling, capital offense with all the appeals we enjoy so much.

What about the business interests in Mexico? The militia is charged with immediate protection on the country when federal intervention is not practical. As Texans we need to serve notice on Mexico to get it right, and if they can’t then we need to show them how. The so called “immigration” issue is a symptom, not a cause. The under current is the massive amount of drug traffic is the power source driving the flow of human traffic streaming across the border and THIS is the difference between Pablo in 1966 and Fernando in 2014. Remember what I said about reputations? That reputation will evaporate when those tanks come across the river between Texas and Mexico and the president of Mexico is served with a declaration of war.

I hate to be the first one to tell you this, but there’s just no nice way to kill people. Mexico through weakness or design has fostered and proliferated the drug trade. The Mexican people are being held hostage and their so called”government,” and I use the term loosely, does nothing to fix the problem. Now, I know the liberals will rail against this article. I know Obama doesn’t have the testosterone or intelligence to take this action. I know it will most likely never happen, but it will work. Until then, watch your faucets!