If I Had Won The Powerball

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.
If I had won the Powerball:
With Miley Cyrus’ career of indulging in the disgusting, I would offer her ten million dollars, tax free, to clean my toes with her tongue. I would offer her dad another five million to sing, “Achy Breaky Heart” to me while she did it.
I would hire the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders to cheer outside the White House fence wearing Trump T-shirts.
I would offer Michael Moore unlimited ham sandwiches for life if he would become a card carrying Republican.
I would take Vladimir Putin’s wife to dinner.
I would give Putin a case of Vodka when I did it.
I would spring for El Chapo’s bail, and ask him to introduce me to that Mexican movie starlet that got him caught.
I would offer to pay for divorces for any gay couple that applied.
I would offer to pay for Michelle Obama’s divorce.
I would buy the Playboy Mansion currently for sale, and donate it to the Catholic Church.
I would offer Hillary any amount she asked if she’d do a lap dance on Bernie Sanders.
I would buy Bernie Sanders a Nitroglycerin pill.
I would offer Fidel Castro fifty million to be photographed smoking a Pall Mall cigarette.
On that Miley Cyrus deal, I’d invite Britney Spears to make it a three-some. (Yeah, I’m old school.)
I’d give Bruce Gender one hundred million to move to a Muslim country.
I’d fly all my ex’s to Texas to play a baseball game.
I’d set aside a trust fund for my granddaughter, Kylie, to go through college through her doctorate, provided she does it at the University of Texas.
I would buy one million copies of my latest book to force the New York Times to put it on their best seller list.
I’d pay the editor of the Times thirty million to write an article claiming that book was the best thing since sliced bread.
I would offer to pay for Wendy Davis to remove that wart from her face.
I’d buy Greg Abbott a HoverRound.
I’d buy Paul Ryan a personality. Make that two, I’d buy another one for Ken Paxton.
I’d buy Disney Studios and make them go back to making Mickey Mouse cartoons and get out of child porn.
I’d pay for DNA tests on Obama’s daughters.
I’d open a string of bars in Utah and have the cocktail waitresses dress as Mormon Missionaries.
I’d hire a staff to rewrite the Qu’ran, and offer ten million to any Mosque that used it. Don’t think they’d take it? If you think that have I got a bridge for you, and it’s on SALE!
Those Utah waitresses . . . put them in the Mosques, too.
I would buy the Westboro Baptist Church, bulldoze it to the ground and replace it with a Gay Bar.
I would spring for the lawyers for all the guys in Waco who were arrested after the murder of their friends, and offer the City of Waco one hundred million if the DA would wear a clown’s suit during his next trial.
I would buy the Church of Scientology and put Penn Jillette in charge of it.
Make that three personalities, Joe Biden.
And last but not least, I’d take Crystal Lee Laramoreand the entire staff of Raging Elephants to the best dinner they’ve ever had, in a stretch limo!

Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

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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

http://www.amazon.com/Simple-Boy-Austin-Wilbur-Witt/dp/1503179540/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1422121598&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilbur+Witt

White Trash and Skinny Texas Girls

When people ask me how I get my unique perspective on things I always tell them I’m just a simple ol’ boy from Austin, but really there’s another level that remains hidden. I’m poor white trash. Moreover, I’m TEXAS poor white trash, and that’s the whitest, trashiest trash there is! I actually grew up in a little village called Simmonsville. Old drunken Harry Simmons bought the old Killeen city dump, and built his Texas version of Shangri La right on top of it. Of course he had the biggest house in town, and even had a handy man, Bob White. When Harry mysteriously died, Bob married his widow and assumed the estate.

Surprisingly there weren’t any trailers in Simmonsville, but there sure as heck were claptrap shacks and adobe huts everywhere. Now, the Ellises actually had land down along Nolan Creek. The Ellises were crazy, but the Mitchells, a little farther down the draw, were crazy-ER! Before you get this iconic image in your head of Nolan Creek being a babbling brook with beautiful trees hanging lazily over the water, we hadn’t invented sewer systems yet, get my drift? The water was oily green, so full of soap that suds towered over our heads, and instead of quick sand we had something along the banks of a slightly different consistency, and smell. And we SWAM in it . . . naked!

On the east side of Simmonsville was a sprawling cattle ranch called “Springer’s” because a man named Springer owned it, and about five miles down the highway on the west was the metropolis of Killeen! Of course Fort Hood was on the other side of that, but we didn’t know anything about them fellers. They were too far away and they were Yankees, anyway.

Race was real simple in Simmonsville. There were us white folk, of course, and just across the highway was a place called Marlboro Heights, named after the cigarette I suppose, where the black folk lived. Uh, we didn’t mix a whole lot. About the only time we mingled was when they stuck us all on a school bus and sent us off in a vain attempt to teach us to read. I never saw an Asian, except on TV, and EVERY brown person was a Mexican. Now Mexicans back then were different than what we have now. There was a certain pride to being a wetback. A Mexican who was actually an American citizen was a dehydrated Mexican, and a Mexican national was a Mexican with a pedigree. That’s why I refer to Muslims as Mexicans to this day, and it filtered down to my kids. My son, the Chief, when I expressed concern as to his many tours of the Middle East, told me, “Shucks dad, ain’t nobody over there but the help!”

And we had law enforcement on the form of officer Jackson. Now, officer Jackson didn’t have a Taser, or mace, or any knowledge of the law. What he did have was a Colt Police Special, and a big ol’ can of “WhoopAss!” We NEVER considered shooting at Officer Jackson. We might hit him, and that would just make him mad! By and by, when Simmonsville was incorporated into Killeen, they sent cops to arrest all of us kids for some kind of “investigation.” They had it in their heads that we were some kind of “organized crime.” They brow beat us all for hours, and to be honest, none of us crackers had any idea what they were talking about, but then they made a critical error . . . they FED us! We didn’t know anything about the Mafia, or any of that Yankee nonsense, but we knew what bail was, and we didn’t want any part of it! There was beds, and food, and DOMINOS! They finally threw us out of the jail house, and we stumbled back to Simmonsville, and Officer Jackson’s waiting arms.

There’s this mythical image of the beautiful Texas girl in jeans, blonde hair, beautiful curves, breath smells like Carnation milk. Verily, verily I say unto thee that such a creature never existed. That girl in the pool in the picture, “The Last Picture Show” was a California actress! Real Texas girls wore sack dresses and all looked like Olive Oyl. They never wore jeans because jeans didn’t come with legs that skinny. If you wanted a girl who looked like a girl you had to find yourself a Mexican. It wasn’t until Monsanto came along and screwed up the food that white Texas girls had any kind of shape at all. But MEXICAN chicks? They were ready to be married at fourteen, and ready for Social Security by twenty! And some of the rules still stick, I met Crystal Lee Laramore down in Austin recently. Beautiful woman! Poised, educated, got some money, breath smelled like Carnation milk. I still caught myself looking behind her ears, because a girl with clean ears is the mark of a lady!

Nobody had any kind of education. Most of us eventually learned to read, I say most because reading was not required in order to run a still, or make beer, and yeah we did that, deal with it. I don’t know to this day how I learned to read, I just know that somewhere along the eighth grade or so I no longer had to look at the pictures on the cans to know what I was about to eat. And we could eat rotten meat. In a place filled with tortillas and beans meat was a delicacy, fresh or otherwise. There have been times when people would be throwing up the soles of their feet after dinner and I’d just be going for seconds.

When I reflect back on my youth I’d like to tell you I wouldn’t want it any other way, only I’m not crazy! I have a timer set so as to take my blood pressure medicine on time every day, whereas in Simmonsville, if you stepped on a rusty nail, and your jaws didn’t lock up in ten days you were good to go. I crappith thee NOT!

Massaginist

It’s been a rowdy week down at the ranch. Ok, let’s jump right into it. First off. Mr. ISIS, we’re sure ’nuff sorry we capped two of your Jihad warriors just because they showed up to kill a bunch of cartoonists who were drawing pictures of that Mexican you call a prophet. Y’all get downright irritated when you show up and don’t get to kill a bunch of folks. Now, I understand your religion and all, what with not liking naked girls, or ham and eggs, or any pictures of anyTHING. You want to straighten a bunch of infidels out, might I suggest a Nuevo Laredo whorehouse? You’ll find a lot of sin down there. Oh, just ignore them fellers with them dots tattooed over their eyebrows. Don’t pay them no mind. Just rush in there, guns a blazing, and see how that works out for you.

I actually ended up in one God awful debate somewhere over in India with the cutest little Jap I ever saw. And y’all know me, I was too busy looking at her profile picture for the first ten minutes, I wasn’t paying no mind to a word she said, but then she called me a “misogynist!” Now, being a Texan, I pronounced that “massaginist.” With the root word apparently “massage,” and her being Asian, I took that to mean she love me long time. Well, our relationship fell quickly apart right after that. I think basically she wanted to put me in a cage somewhere and set fire to me, screaming, “Aloha Salad Bar,” or words to that effect. God she was beautiful when she was mad.

From there we progressed to Jade Helm 15. Now, I’m just as crazy as the next Texan so I bought right into this. I don’t like AMERICANS coming down here, and when I found out it was gonna be UN troops? Americans are bad enough, but FOREIGNERS? Hide the women folk. My grandmother told me that all them people over there are BORN with an STD. They get it from their mamas. The men pee right in the street and their women don’t wash properly “down there.” I was all pent up, that was until I found out the whole story came out of Alex Jones. Now, I’m not saying Alex was wrong, I’m just saying. If you wanna kill a good conspiracy just let it come out of Prison Planet and right away the public thinks we’re all wearing tin foil Stetsons!

Of course the cops are shooting EVERYBODY! I almost wish I could have met them two boys up in Garland before they got out of that car. I would have told them, “DUDES! They shoot US for using a cell phone. What did you expect?” To be honest, Texas cops don’t shoot near as many as cops in states where the second amendment isn’t in place. Wonder if there’s a correlation?

Open Carry is moving through the legislative process. Hey, certain “people” open carry their UNDERWEAR! Why can’t we just carry a pistol. A small cute one. The libs say open carry “intimidates” people. Uh, why do COPS do it? They carry a gun, an electric chair, a knife and a STICK! You can’t carry a stick in Texas, did you know that? I was once arrested for possession of a stick. And don’t let a kid draw a picture of a gun in school. I wonder what the ISIS boys in Garland would have done if the artists were just been drawing pictures of guns.

Now this is satire. I feel I need to give that disclosure. Why do I resort to satire at times. Because when I use a lot of four syllable words and try to speak as an adult . . . Liberals don’t listen!

Texas Tutorial

Texans are a peculiar lot. Hey, I’m one of them, and I know! The rules of engagement are complex when dealing with a Texan, but the common denominator is always common SENSE. Texans don’t buy into political correctness in any form. Any time you suggest a course of action in order to “look good,” Texans will almost always go the exact opposite direction. This perplexes Americans, but it MESSES with people from other countries, and the farther east you get, the more it confuses great minds of ancient cultures.

Brits are fairly easy to get along with. They like “cowboys” for the most part, but as you work your way through Europe the opinions become, how would you put it, more “refined.” Take India . . . PLEASE! Now I like Indian people. I mean, any culture that could come up with the Karma Sutra can’t be all bad, but all it takes is one sour apple to make you consider the barrel. Now, they’re industrious, fairly intelligent, and God knows there’s a LOT of them! For the most part they don’t eat Big Macs, and tend to worship critters, but that’s cool, it’s their opinion in Texans that they take an off ramp.

I met this one particular person. She read a few of my articles, watched a John Wayne movie, and became an expert on Bill the Butcher. She’s ranting and raving about how ignorant I was, and I’m just studying her online pictures to see if I can get a look at her legs. Now, I don’t mind being hated, it’s my stock and trade, but hate me for the right reasons. First off, I’m not a racist, but that card plays so good she just had to play it. I’m white trash from PoDuck, Texas. Brothers and sisters, that’s POOR! I literally grew up on tortillas and beans, NOT from Taco Bell. I was fourteen years old before I saw my first manufactured hamburger at a place called Burger Chef. In high school we could fit five people in the trunk of a Chevy to sneak into a drive in movie because we could only come up with one ticket.

You take a childhood like that and it kinda puts you on point. I’m direct, simple, no nonsense, and highly suspicious of ANYONE not in Texas. You bring that to a conversation with some kid from Buglety Bugelty, and you get, well, misunderstanding. So I’ve decided to give a little Texas Tutorial for folks who have never really stopped to consider the art of Texification.

Texas is NOT part of the DIS United States! Oh, they think we are, and we let ’em believe that, but just try to collect a judgement in Texas. For that matter just try to enforce ANYTHING from an out of state judge. I’ve SEEN it folks, I crappith thee NOT! Gays get all bent out of shape about the validity of their California marriages coming into question, DUDES, Texas doesn’t recognize some Arkansas marriages and NO Mexican ones. We aren’t trying to secede, we’ve BEEN gone, just the Yankees can’t accept it.

We have freedom of religion in Texas. You can be anything you want, Baptist, Southern Baptist, Mormon, or Methodist. Yeah, that just about covers it. We don’t get along with Moslems because they’re always screaming and waving heads around. Now we don’t mind cutting off a few heads, but we prefer it to be in the board room of Dell Computer. We don’t mind men in dresses, or riding camels so long as its “over there!”

We support the second amendment. If you kill one of us, we will kill you back. Texas passed a law speeding up death penalty sentences. If certain conditions are met you go to the front of the line. In the words of Ron White, “While other states are trying to abolish death row, Texas put in an express lane.” We believe in everyone’s right to self defense so long as they’re a Baptist, Methodist . . .well, you know. John Wayne didn’t RIDE no camel!

In Texas we have well developed arts. There is two kinds of music, country AND western. I hear down in Houston they listen to rap. We’ve never really accepted the Grand Ol’ Opry, unless you have Willie there, and he prefers the Austin Opry House to any pretenders. Willie’s a little bit liberal, but he’s getting on in years so we understand. We like Rock so long as it’s Ted Nugent. Stevie Ray was cool, but he made the mistake of getting into a Yankee helicopter.

We support the president, George Bush. We haven’t accepted that new guy in the White House yet. Watch the race cards start flying, folks. After the war of northern aggression we had a reconstruction governor. When we finally voted him out we had to go to Austin, grab him by the collar, and throw him out of the Governor’s mansion, and that’s pretty much what we’d like to do up in Washington IF we were involved, which we’re NOT!

We don’t understand European Unions, NATO, or any other things girly men from over there come up with. We view the world on two levels, Texas, and NOT Texas. We don’t need Agenda 21 or anything else that has to be translated into fifty different languages. You tell us we can’t drive our pick ups downtown, and we’ll just run over you on our way to Walmart.

We respect our women folk. We particularly like the fact that Texas weather tends to make our ladies wear the least amount possible, up to and including that naked lady sitting on the steps in San Antonio recently because Texas women are the most beautiful in the world. California girls are cute, but you gotta make sure they ARE girls. Anyway, Cali girls are stuck up so they ain’t good for much. Surfing, I guess.

We have no race problems in Texas. Stock cars abound, and our horses are faster, leaner, and better trained than any other in the world.

Our liquor laws are unique. We still have “dry” counties, but they’re situated among “wet” counties so as to ease Texas nerves. Oh, we still have “Blue” laws that forbid whiskey on Sunday. You can buy beer after noon to give the Baptists time to get home from church and change clothes. If you just HAVE to get a shot you can go to a honky tonk like everybody else.

There are many other aspects of Texan behavior, but these should get you stated. Texas welcomes everyone with one rule: FORGET about where you come from, and don’t try to change us. Since Texas is the best place to be in the whole wide world we figure that should be enough.

#texas #humor #satire

Blue Eyed White Boys

Lament the blue eyed white boys. On one side we have Jade Helm, and on the other, religious nuts trying to shoot up art shows. We can’t be sure of which rest room to use, if indeed we’re allowed to use any. New Black Panthers marching up and down the streets wanting to shoot us all right between our blue eyes, and fifty million Mexicans pouring over the fence down there trying to take what’s left of the jobs, money, and beer away. I know what the Neanderthals felt like when they saw the first Cro-Magnon Man drawing a bird on THEIR cave walls.

Blue eyed white boys have only been around around six to ten thousand years or so. I think we’re aliens actually. That’s why all the other races hate us so bad. We smell funny. There are some blue eyed black folk, but I think God is just trying to be politically correct, and they don’t count for much. I haven’t quiet figured out exactly how that happened, but I suspect there’s a cracker in the wood pile somewhere.

Except for Chuck Norris and Arnold Schwarzenegger, blue eyed white boys are pretty much useless. Quarterbacks are generally white because SOMEbody on the field HAS to be. All other races can out run, out jump, out think, and . . . well, I made Crystal Lee a promise, suffice to say, “If you ever try black, you’ll never come back,” yeah, they beat us in that, too.

And we’re dangerous. The last blue eyed white boy who took over a country, had too much power, and did exactly what he wanted to do was Hitler, and we all know how THAT shook down. We crackers are fighting an uphill battle, and we ain’t gonna make it. I’ve never had a blue eyed wife. I prefer Mexican girls, actually. They’re generally short, well rounded, and cook quite well. I think the reason that I’ve never married a blue eyed girl is that they’re all with black guys.

There’s no fixing this. We’re a dying breed. Oh, we’ll rant and rave, and talk about the Romans, Greeks and Germans, but we’re pretty much done. There will be fewer and fewer of us, all sitting in bars, drinking Lite beer, like a bunch of dinosaurs, just waiting for that comet to come on in. I’m stuck these blue eyes, but I do have a nice beard.

How I Really Think

I was being facetious when I said I got my feelings hurt yesterday. You’d have to get up pretty early in the morning to hurt my feelings. I’ve been married five times, been run off so many times that I thought PMS meant “pack my stuff.” What happened was I took off after Al Sharpton yesterday. Now, I’m going to go on record. I think Al Sharpton is a shallow minded, race baiting, lying pimp! He scans the headlines for anything he can inject himself into for a tidy sum, and he hasn’t done one thing to improve the human condition, white or black. Anyway, there were two people who took exception to my article, and that’s fine. Now, they didn’t READ the article, or at least didn’t read it with any comprehension. They leaped, like savage rabbits, and played that rusty old race card! THAT always irritates me. For somebody to read something that I’ve written, completely ignore the foundation, and come back with, “Oh, you just saying that ’cause he’s black!” Nigga please! (Is that racist enough for you, honey?)

So I checked out my two opponents. Frankly, today I don’t even remember their names, but the guy actually went to the University of Texas. Now, I’m an old Texas hard liner so that set me back a bit. Kid went to UT so he HAD to have learned SOMETHING! Then I went and checked out the girl. Cute! That goes a long way with me. (Hmmmmm. I might not be a racist but I AM a Chauvinist!) Anyway she made statements that my article wasn’t even an article for various reasons, and mentioned that I had horse whipped the Muslims a week ago also. She harangued my style, my content, and said that I was arrogant. Now, I’m fixing to get real blunt here, reader’s discretion advised! FYI, my own brother made fun of the title of my last book and I haven’t spoke to him for two years.

I write dozens of articles every day. I’ve written four books, three thousand songs, been in Country music for over forty years, and I’m not about to take criticism from some hula girl with a Facebook account! My writing style is actually contrived. I didn’t just stumble upon it one day in the shower. I use a theory I refer to as “circles.” The human mind reaches for completion. THAT’S why a song will get stuck in your head. Because you mind missed something and struggles to complete it. Fifty cents worth of psychiatric input there. That’s also what makes a song work. Verse, verse, chorus, lead riff, verse, chorus and out. Perfect circle! If you study most of my articles you’ll see that pattern almost every time.

There are two more elements. Humor, and simplicity. There are seven things that will construct humor in the brain. My humor is by comparison. Take a situation, paint mental images, easy to remember, with little Texas catch phrases like, “save your fork,” and “swat them bees,” to cement the prose of the article in the readers mind, compare the two and voila! You have humor. I don’t write ANYTHING by accident! Every line, every word is placed exactly where I intended it to be. I don’t use repetitive “ands” but I do throw in slang, and words like “gonna, ain’t,” and even a sloppy double negative here and there, and I do it for a reason. SIMPLICITY! When I address a complex situation I step back, look at it, and ask myself, “Now what is this guy REALLY saying?” Just like my opinion of Al Sharpton. For everything he’s ever said, or written, it all boils down to, “Give me de money!”

You can never predict my position on any matter, because I don’t know my position on any matter until I write it. I didn’t not agree with George Zimmermans shooting of Trayvon Martin, but frankly, I’d have shot Michael Brown from the car! My logic was simple. For all the MMA crap, Martin could NOT knock Zimmerman out. I, myself, been attacked by not one but THREE black thugs in my own driveway, and I didn’t kill anybody, and it’s not because I have the light of sweet Jesus in my eyes. It’s because when you stick a gun in someone’s mouth they go from thug to PHD in two seconds flat! And, oh yeah, I only did that cause they was black! For the record they embarked on a huge conspiracy to steal my cigarettes!

Now let’s jump on the religion thing. Yeah, I’m gonna go there, deal with it. I think most religion is silly. Not God, RELIGION! I was a devout Catholic, and before that I was a devout Baptist. Now I’m just a devout ME! I admire people like my friend Doc Greene who can live their faith and not hurt anyone, but when I see Muslims, the Westboro Baptist Church, and sidewalk, soapbox preachers looking forward to the end of the world like Al Sharpton, you damn well better know that I’m gonna express an opinion! If you want to pray five times a day and never eat a ham sandwich, I’m cool with that, but when you blow an old lady’s head off in the street because of the crazy ramblings of some guy who died sixteen hundred years ago we gotta talk! I SAW David Koresh, and NOT on CNN.

As far as acceptance of my writings? Well, I’m sitting here having a very dry martini, a Roosevelt Peter, smoking a Nicaraguan cigar on the porch of one of my three houses. So, to address that young lady from yesterday with a mouth full of opinions, yeah honey, I’m a bit arrogant. Matter of fact I’d like to run a few martins through you and see what pops out the other end. When you get past sixty or so you become pretty much settled in your opinions. You tend to view the world with a pretty jaundiced eye, but mainly you see things and people for what they really are.

I pulled out of Glozens yesterday because I knew that anyone small minded enough to address my articles in such a fashion would probably run to Facebook like a little child and I’d go to Facebook jail (again.) I’ve got books to sell. Martinis and cigars cost MONEY, and I don’t have the gig the REVEREND Al Sharpton has. I have to budget.

The King and the Temple

Now for a little bedtime story. Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, there was a kingdom. The subjects prospered, and happiness abounded throughout the land. The king would make speeches which made no sense, but he loved golf and he was politically correct, so only the subjects who could read raised objections on occasion, but were ignored by the rest, who worshipped the king in temples known as Well Fare. They were thus called because those who worshipped there day and night would fare well at the expense of the other subjects who tilled the fields, giving a goodly portion of their crops to the temples in tribute.

But all was not well in the kingdom. Because of the joy, and plenty subjects of other kingdoms wished to come and worship in the temples also. At first it was not so bad, just a few filtering in here and there, but over time it became cumbersome, as many others from many kingdoms wished to partake of the goodst of the land. There was not room in the temples so as to contain the devout. Lo! One day the King called a council. He said, “There are so many worshippers from other kingdoms coming here the land cannot support them all. I shall tell them that they need to stay in their kingdoms and request proper entry, else famine will abound in the land, and the original worshippers shall fall into apostasy.”

“But, your majesty,” returned the advisors, “the border between our kingdom and theirs hath fallen into disrepair, and there is but a barbed wire fence betwixt, and it is down!”

“CURSES!” cried the king. “If I cannot control my own border the subjects will soon realize that I, myself, am from another kingdom, and may depose me, indeed, exile me and I shall lose all my money, and sheep, and goats, but most of all the castle!”

The king retreated in deep meditation, and by and by he devised a plan. He deduced that if the subjects were to be bestowed with the right to be in his kingdom by decree then they would no longer be subjects of another kingdom at all, yea, but subjects of his kingdom, indeed, subjects of the highest caliber! He would baptize them exceedingly. Then, there would be not a need for a border at all, and he could even save the expense of replacing the barbed wire fence.

So the king issued a decree. Henceforth, and forever more, any subject entering his kingdom would by virtue of their audacity itself, would be his loyal subjects, and the subjects previously living in the land would be compelled to fall upon their knees and worship them, even as they had the king!

But, the Kings advisors told him, “The subjects who can read, especially the sect known as the sacred order of Republicus, shall say that Thou art as crazy as the vermin which scamper about the toilette facilities!”

“Nay, nay,” saith the king, for I shall create a diversion, whereupon they shall cast their eyes in yet another direction. I shall undertake a huge crusade which, by the very size of it, shall so occupy their hearts, and minds, they shall not even take note of my plan, indeed, shall occupy themselves in meaningless pondering as my plan unfolds, even under their very noses!”

So it was that the king sent knights throughout the land, hither and yon, and the king was right, the subjects rose in alarm facing not the invading forces streaming over the broken barbed wire fence but observing the knights instead.

“But,” the advisors cautioned, “what if some of the subjects should come about, and observe, and sound the alarm?”

“Nay, nay what do you say?” cried the king, ” for they are too few, and the subjects I duped into worshipping me hath become complacent, and grown fat upon free bread, therefore the alarm will amount to naught!” Then, after a time, the king considered and said, “Yet even so, I shall create yet another diversion in a kingdom far away. I shall cause Repubicus to believe that a religious sect hath become yet so powerful that even lions tremble in their dens, and only our knights shall be able to abate them!”

“But,” the advisors asked, “doest we have that many knights”

“Thou fools,” saith the king, “I shall not really dispatch the knights there. I shall need them to guard the palace here. And, to placate the populace further, I shall tell them that I have a bridge I shalt sell them at a discounted rate!”

“But what about the holy order of the constitution, your highness. It distinctly says that all though doest is contrary to all that the kingdom is built upon?”

The king smiled, and considered his one wood and saith, “You ponder empty things not worthy of your time. They cannot READ!”

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!”