Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Meet the DNC poster child of the millennium.

For once, I have no real words to describe how I feel about this except that waste products like this waste product of a woman should be taken and deported to mainland China--along with her waste product egg-bank that spawned her.


Tuesday, April 1, 2014

Oath Keepers versus Oath Breakers.

Oath Keepers are current or former military personnel, former or current law enforcement/first responder personnel who keep at the forefront the oath they swore to the Constitution of the United States of America.

Sadly, not all current personnel of our military and especially our law enforcement communities seem to place much stock in the oath they took before pinning on their badge and strapping on their guns.

Once again, a brutally rogue abuse of power by the police occurred the past few days and once again, the police officer's supervisor saw no problem with it.

The University of Arizona basketball team lost to Wisconsin. UA students who'd gathered to watch the game found the police waiting on them after the game was over.

Friends and associates of mine who live in Arizona insist that there was not a "riot" until the Tucson police incited it.

To those who perpetually give blowjob passes to anything law enforcement does, here is a refresher on a certain freedom contained in a certain amendment in a random document that just so happens to be the foundation upon which our nation was built upon.

Obviously this isn't being taught at the Tucson police academy.

Amendment I

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Let's look at that "the right of the people peaceably to assemble" part. I've watched other video of this "riot" and read other witness accounts. American citizens have the right to assemble and raise hell. Yelling, chanting, making gestures, et al are all protected forms of freedom of expression and have been upheld by various Supreme Court decisions for centuries.

But if the city and police officials don't like it, the solution is to assemble the goon squads in their riot gear and then push and intimidate and maneuver the protesters and in essence, create a powder keg--then all it will take is one dumb action, by either side, to ignite it and then the goons can begin throwing tear gas, swinging batons, firing their tasers, unleashing the dogs, etc etc.

In fact, in the HuffPo piece, the asshat sergeant who defends Officer Joel Mann--the assailant who decked the Arizona coed flat on her face--as well as how the Tucson goon squad handled the entire sad situation. He states that the police ordered the kids to "disperse."

Wait a minute, Sergeant (Pete) Dugan. . . The kids gather after a game, you have the goon squad ready and deployed and tell the kids to go home or go away?

How about the kids tell you, "Kiss our ass!"

This reminds me of a line out of First Blood when the Green Beret colonel tells Rambo, "Well, you've caused a bit of trouble yourself," to which Rambo responds, "There wouldn't be any trouble if it weren't for that kingshit cop. All I wanted was something to eat, but he kept pushing."

All the kids wanted to do was blow off some steam, but the cops kept pushing until they got their riot.

According to a business owner on University Boulevard and a number of students, the police were already lined up in riot gear and had the street literally blocked off before the game ended. Even one of the business owners who witnessed the event stated that the police kept pushing and that it wasn't until the police began physically pushing the kids off the street that the beer bottles and debris began getting thrown, which then gave the police a green light to begin firing pepper spray and bean bags and rubber batons, et al.

The police defend their action by saying they'd given an order to "disperse."

Again, since when do the police countermand the Constitution? There was no state of emergency declared giving the police martial authority. One could argue, I suppose, about "keeping order," but again, witnesses state that other than the kids being somewhat drunk and crying over their basketball team's loss, there was no violence and no property damage.

In fact, a majority of the kids were simply trying to get to their cars to go home--but they had to navigate through the goons in riot gear to get there.

One more example, people. It's just one more example of the police state we've become.

The Tucson police say they are investigating their officers' use of force and how the situation was handled. A little late for that given the department has already been crowing to the media about how well they handled it.

Letting the police investigate their own malfeasance is paramount to letting a fox investigate himself after he just finished raiding the hen house. What's more, the police work for us, the citizenry--a fact they have long since dismissed.

I used to not be too big of a fan of citizen review boards. I'm now seriously re-thinking my position on that.
 


Monday, March 24, 2014

KIlled in Jerkwater, USA. For vagrancy.

 Just like from the movie, First Blood, a homeless man is camping in the foothills outside of Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Some real he-men Rambo hunters with badges find him.

They want to serve him a citation for illegally camping.

It's $10.

Instead, they murder him.

This is what cold-blooded murder by the police looks like.

It was in southern New Mexico that the police sodomized an innocent citizen and made him submit to three enemas--all without a warrant--because they thought he might have drugs. Just a random traffic violation, biz had been slow and this guy might have had drugs.

Outside of Taos, we still remember the video of state police firing on a minivan that had kids inside over an alleged speeding ticket.

As New Mexico voted blue the last two presidential elections, we have elected to not only not travel to the Land of Enchantment (better change their state slogan) and spend our money, but cancelled plans for buying acreage outside of Cloudcroft to build a cabin.

Law enforcement in New Mexico has never enjoyed a stellar reputation to begin with.

I used to think it couldn't get worse.

Leave it to the Albuquerque Police Department to prove me wrong.

Note to Law Enforcement: One day, the American citizen as a whole is going to wake up and decide to view you, the police, as you seem to view us--a crime waiting to happen. In doing so, the American citizenry will deal with you, under those terms, the exact same way you deal with the citizenry.

Shoot first. Make up a story. Move on. Repeat.

Law Enforcement? You have no one to blame but yourself.

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Mr. Child Molester, your civil rights have just been revoked.

Seems that there was a big raid by federal agents that resulted in a huge child pornography ring getting busted up.

Good.

My next thought is, "Let's not waste time and money on trials for these rabid animals."

I can hear the cowards (liberals) screaming now, especially the deranged, subhuman freaks of that national group that is trying to make it legal for fifty-year-old men to have anal sex with five-year-old boys. NAMBLA or something like that?

Shoot those people in the head. They cannot be fixed and they pose a grave danger to our kids. In the words of an old law enforcement buddy of mine, "They are defective and their warranty is voided. Return to manufacturer."

Damn straight.

Kiddie porn and sexual crimes against children continue and are getting worse because we, as a society, have become a little too squeamish about exacting the harsh and final justice that those defective beyond-repair humanoids who prey on our children deserve.

These creeps do not fare well in prison, often turning up dead. Why should they fare any better in free society?

We had a registered sex offender pop up in our neighborhood some ten or so years ago. For the record, our neighborhood is middle/upper-middle class income in the far northern suburbs of the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex. The demographics show that in our neighborhood, better than four out of five homes have at least one college graduate with most families having both mom and dad being college educated. The income range is commiserate with the education.

So what's a pervert who had been paroled twice from the Texas Department of Corrections for forcible rape of children between the ages of seven and eleven years-old, male and female, doing in our neighborhood?

Living with his scumbag parents who'd rented a house. In fact, the house had been subrented without the knowledge of the property management company who was responsible for the occupancy of that property.

The creep in question had served less than fifteen percent of his total sentence but somehow managed to slip through the cracks of a broken justice system. We have an informal neighborhood watch group on our end of the cul-de-sac. Almost all of the families living here have children or grandchildren. We don't tolerate people racing their cars down the street, door-to-door solicitors or teenagers in their "thump thump thump" subwoofer rap-crap stereos with wheels disturbing our peaceful little existence.

We don't call the police. We handle these things ourselves. We do it nicely and in a polite, yet firm manner and rarely have any repeat occurrences.

An armed society is a polite society. You better believe it.

So when a twice-convicted Chester the Child Molester shows up on the DPS Watch List living half a block down, word got out fast. Mailboxes had a picture of the creep within twenty-four hours, and in this case, police were alerted--but they told us until he "did something," there was nothing they could do. . . that he had "rights."

Since when the hell does a convicted child rapist who sodomizes pre-pubescent little boys and girls have rights?

Not in my world.

The creep shows up in our cul-de-sac walking a puppy dog. The oldest cliché in the Chester book of malfeasance--but it works. Children are drawn to puppies and kittens like moths to light. Within two minutes of this creep showing up and talking with a couple of six-year-olds in the front yard of our across-the-street neighbors on that Saturday afternoon, he found himself looking down the barrel of a Mossberg 500 (mine), a 1911 .45 ACP (the ex-Army dad of the two kids), an AR-15 (newly married young couple at the end of the cul-de-sac) and a snarling Doberman (ours).

It was explained to him in very brutal, graphic terms what would happen the next time he was even seen anywhere in our entire suburb, let alone our neighborhood. Nobody was smiling and nobody was kidding. Three loaded guns with trigger fingers itching to pull and an infuriated eighty-five pound German dog with an attitude and the angry faces behind them got the message across.

Two of us escorted the creep down to where he was living with his parents. We informed them that they had seventy-two hours to "get the hell out of Dodge" or they just might find themselves experiencing a similar fate as the scumbag son they raised and were protecting. For the record, these parents were not the Cleavers and had the attention of law enforcement as well. How they managed to afford the rent on the house was beyond all of us. Didn't matter and we didn't care. Get the hell out of the house or we'll burn the sonofabitch to the ground. A call to the property management company sealed the deal. They were aghast that not only had the property been sublet, but done so to convicted criminals.

We had a problem that posted a very real, very dangerous threat to the children in our neighborhood. Had we gone through proper police channels, there is a good chance the creeps could still be living here, over a decade later.

Don't blame the police for that. Blame the dickless politicians and bleeding heart civil libertarians that give more sympathy and credence to child rapists than the parents whose child was raped by these defective subhumanoid animals.

On the story I linked to up above, it seems one of the animals managed to avoid the snare. At last word, the authorities were trying to locate him. He posted pictures of himself sexually molesting a toddler between the age of twelve months and eighteen months.

He posted pictures of him committing this crime.

What was that about him having rights again?

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

The health benefits of firearms ownership.

By the time you're finished reading this, I hope you'll be calling your elected officials and demanding reduced health-insurance premiums for firearms owners.

Many years ago, some numbnuts came up with an atrocious piece of twisted logic that tried to claim that if you owned a firearm, it was forty-three times more likely to be used against you if you tried to use it in defense of yourself or your family/loved ones.

The liberals jumped on this and adopted it like a stray kitten.

For the record, I consider anti-gunners little more than cowards or power-mongers, depending upon their station in life. Elected officials and government employees who favor gun control are power-mongers and wannabe tyrants.

All else who favor gun control are simply closet cowards. Such people lack the fortitude to defend themselves, their family, their community and their nation from the wolves that prowl every society known to civilized man. They mistakenly think that if we are all disarmed, then we can all cower together--giving the appearance of a much larger flock of sheep to the wolves, and hopefully the wolves will only pick off a few bleating, fearful sheep and leave the rest of them alone.

Doesn't work that way. Look at the wolves in Montana and Idaho that have been protected and allowed to run loose. The elk population is being decimated and the wolves are moving in closer to (human) populated areas. We see more and more stories about the wolves snatching family pets and domestic dogs, killing them and moving on.

Our government has done much the same thing with human wolves, known as criminals. The cowards (liberals) began giving criminals additional rights and privileges in hopes of gaining favor with these two-legged predators so as not to become victims themselves. The result? A burgeoning prison population explosion with more felons and as-yet-to-be caught and tried criminals prowling our communities than ever before in this nation's history.

The cowards (liberals) seem to think that if we all turn in our guns, the criminals will turn in theirs. That is like thinking that if the elk give up their antlers, the wolves will give up their fangs.

Fat chance.

But back to the health benefits of firearms ownership. In no particular order, here are some examples in which firearms directly benefit and contribute to our overall improved health.

1. Go shooting and lower your blood pressure. Nothing calms me down more after a stressful day than a few hours at the range or out in the country doing some shooting. Shooting requires concentration and this means you have to push whatever has stressed or upset you to the back of your mind so that you can concentrate on that front sight.

There is also the satisfaction of feeling the recoil, hearing the pop/bang/boom that a firearm makes and subconsciously transferring your stress to that minor explosion and imagining it eradicated in a puff of glorious gun powder igniting as it pushes a projectile down the barrel of your firearm.

And finally, you can transfer your problems to the target you're shooting at, then destroy the target. The cowards (liberals) will be aghast at this, but too bad.

2. Your confidence and self-esteem builds as you continue to improve your shooting skills. Like anything else we do, when we get better, we feel better about ourselves. Good shooting takes practice and commitment. When your groups get better, you experience the satisfaction and fulfillment of self-improvement. It's no different than a baseball player who improves their batting average or a basketball player who improves their free-throw percentage. When we get better at something, we feel better about ourselves.

3. You can build better social relationships with people who share a common attitude. Most folks who own firearms and shoot them regularly share a considerable number of similar attitudes about life as we know it today. Thanks to wacked out media loonies and Hollywood weirdos, right is now wrong and up is now down and so on. Nobody knows what is real anymore. This is not a problem with the overwhelming majority of firearms owners. A little social time spent shooting or hunting and our internal compass and GPS is reset back in its proper course heading.

4. If you're a hunter, you're eating a lot healthier. I'm not sure how many firearms owners are also hunters, but I'd wager at least half of those who own shotguns and rifles also use them to hunt with. Wild game has none of the problems with domesticated beef and pork and fowl that we buy in the grocery stores. Nobody is running around giving hormone shots to whitetail deer or stuffing wild pigs with the latest genetically engineered grains. In fact, one of the challenges in cooking wild game is that there isn't very much fat (in most cases) to work with and I often have to supplement the skillet with a little lard to help sear and cook the meat without scorching it. I never have that problem with ground hamburger I get at the grocery store. Just the opposite--I have to drain the fat.

Your firearm is like a shopping cart--you can use it to fill your freezer and fridge with meat that is far better for you than anything you buy at the corner market. Why isn't the First Lady promoting wild game in our children's school lunches?

5. The biggest health benefit of firearms ownership is being able to preserve your own life. My wife and I are proud and loyal NRA members. As such, we receive the publications and the first thing we read each month is The Armed Citizen where excerpts from actual news stories across the country document incidents where a firearm was used to defend the owner's life or someone else's life.

What could possibly be more beneficial, health-wise, than being able to stay alive when some wolf is trying to rob or rape or kill you?

So the next time some coward (liberal) tries to convince you of the dangers of firearms ownership, refer them back to these five simple, factual examples of how beneficial they are to one's health.

If they're still not convinced, encourage them to go play with the wolves.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

The Maylasian airliner possibility no one in the world wants to think about.

Okay, please buckle your seatbelts and return your trays and seats to their upright position.

There is an old line from a famous Shakespeare play, Hamlet, in which the line "The lady doth protest me thinks too much," is used.

Substitute "lady" with "China" and I think you have a good lead on what happened to Flight MH370--the missing Boeing 777 flight out of Kuala Lampur that has seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth.

A lot of theories have been bandied about, ranging from hijacking by Muslim extremists to crew incompetency to an onboard bomb or explosion to a new Bermuda Triangle. 

However, the one constant in the entire matter has been China's typical schizophrenic attitude towards any catastrophe involving anything that could possibly be connected to the Middle Kingdom or that they might even be inferred to be involved with.

Robber Barons


Communist China has a long history of being that fat, obnoxious bully on the school playground who starts a fight, then sits back and watches the other kids pummel each other. When questioned by the teachers or principal, the bully protests vehemently that he didn't do anything and is being picked on. Sometimes he even offers to try and break up the fight and be seen as the helpful hero.

China's history as a bully is well known. So is their history as thieves.

More pirated copyrights and trademarks and patents end up in Chinese manufacturing facilities than anywhere else in the world. From music to computers to military hardware to nuclear technology (thank you, Clinton administration), the ChiComs have proven to be the world's biggest robber barons.

When accused or caught, they become that obnoxious acne-riddled bully on the playground who goes bellowing and protesting so loudly and incessantly that everyone finally clasps their hands over their ears and says to hell with it. Let the damn thieves keep whatever they stole.

That's the Middle Kingdom of today.

Hi-hacked rather than hijacked

It is exactly zero secret that the Chinese have focused massive efforts into computer hacking and recruiting and training the world's best hackers to steal and redirect as much technology as they can to the rulers in the Politburo.

A simple Google search will net you page after page after page of evidence that would convict the Chinese in any courtroom anywhere in the world other than Bejing.

Of particular interest to the ChiComs these days is drone technology. Fly-by-wire controlled by computer operators from thousands of miles away.

What if the Chinese, who have proven they have the ability to hack into drones and redirect their flight, finally developed the skill to hack into the onboard flight computer of a major airliner?

Hollywood would have some geek with horn-rimmed glasses slurping on an energy drink massaging a joystick and actually flying the airplane. Uh-uh. That's not how it works. You still need a hands-on pilot to manipulate the controls. An airplane operates on three basic axis: Pitch, Roll, Yaw. While Airbus has developed the technology to land an airliner with hands-off input from the left (or right) seat, it is considered technology only to be used in the case of an emergency--although that may have changed in the recent past.

Where the real opportunity for a hacker exists is in breaking into the onboard computer and reconfiguring the GPS waypoints for the autopilot--of which the flights are preprogrammed before the flight even leaves the ground.

To simplify: The pilot gets the airplane off the ground and into a climb attitude, engages the autopilot and it does the rest right up to setting up for the final approach fix at the destination, to which the pilot then hand flies the airplane to the runway.

Economic Terror

The Chinese have been hacking into anything and everything military and aviation-related for the past decade. Imagine the economic terror they could wield if they demonstrate the ability to hack into and redirect global air and sea traffic.

Yes, sea vessel traffic. Oil is transported via tankers from the Middle East, as are commodities the Chinese need like grain and meat from Australia, et al. Today's seagoing vessels utilize the same GPS technology the airliners do.

Why pay for your oil and food when you can redirect the vessel carrying it to a remote area in the ocean where it is met by Chinese commandos, commandeered and the goods transferred to vessels flying the PRC flag? A ship is harder to make disappear than an airliner, but not that much harder--the ocean is a big place and it is deep.

We've been looking for, what, eleven days for a huge Boeing 777 and haven't found so much as a floating barf bag?

China is now professing "outrage" at Malaysia over the incident, claiming a backlash from their citizenry.

Give me a break. Too much citizen backlash in the PRC nets the outraged a 7.62mm bullet and the family gets a bill for the projectile that blew out the brains of their outraged next-of-kin. 

"The lady doth protest me thinks too much." Substitute "dragon" for "lady," and we have Hamlet in Bejing.

It's long been known among cops the world over that those who protest the loudest, longest and most vehemently are usually a good bet to be your most likely suspects.

Questions remain

So why an airliner from Malaysia? 

Why not? What is Malaysia going to do--send their ICBMs and B2s and highly trained commandos to China if it does turn out the ChiComs were behind this? Malaysia is that skinny, undernourished kid on the playground who goes about his own way and doesn't look for trouble. But when the bully sets his sights on him, the kid knows he is defenseless and ends up getting a bloody nose.

Secondly, most of southeast Asia is still primitive compared to Europe and North America. Should one of our flagship airliners or seagoing vessels end up missing, we would employ massive amounts of technology within hours of the event to find our airplane or ship. That didn't happen halfway across the world and in it not happening, should this turn up to be a nefarious event, it gave the guilty party ample time to hide or destroy the evidence.

In short, this would be an almost totally risk-free wet operation to try if the Chinese have indeed developed the technology to infiltrate and readdress information and commands on onboard computers. Only one U.S. citizen was on board, and our present administration has long since proven it could care less about U.S. citizens abroad who come into harm's way.

Zero risk operation

If this, in fact, is what happened, it may never be proven. I have little doubt that every soul on board flight MH370 is now dead and dead men tell no tales. That would only leave someone with a conscience to spill the beans and tell the world what really happened.

And conscience is something that is in short order in the Middle Kingdom.



 


Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Feminism is a bitch.

Redundant, I know. . .

Another feminist wacko from California (where else?) made the news this week, but this time for assaulting a minor. A minor female, sixteen-years-old, whose views on abortion fly in the ugly face of Mireille Miller-Young, who is a professor, of sorts, at University of California Santa Barbara.

What is Mireille Miller-Young a professor of, exactly?

Black cultural studies, pornography and sex work.

More specifically: Pornography; Sex Work; Black Film, Popular Culture and Art; Feminist & Queer Theory; African American & African Diaspora Studies; Visual Archives; New Media; Ethnography; Oral History.

Her dissertation, which is set to be published this year, is called: "A Taste for Brown Sugar: The History of Black Women in American Pornography."

Are you freaking kidding me? Why is it that the ugliest women are always the ones most interested in porn? Or that are feminists, for that matter?

This woman is so ugly that I doubt tying a pork chop around each of her legs would entice a starving junkyard dog to play with her--which makes me wonder just what the hell she could possibly know about sex?

It seems that there was a pro-life demonstration on the campus of UCSB and some of the pro-life young ladies had some signs that rather graphically depicted what happens to unborn fetuses during an abortion.

Associate professor Mireille Miller-Young, as the article reports, took offense and began raising hell with the students. A sign was forcibly taken from the pro-life protesters and they wanted their property back. In the process, Miller-Young assaults a sixteen-year-old member of the pro-life group.

On a side note, once again I just love the tolerance and understanding shown by the most rabid of the liberal loser crowd who crow the loudest about "free speech." But if they disagree with what you're saying, hey, just assault you and steal your materials.

But back to the porn-fetish queen.

Why are we allowing our public tax dollars to fund, employ and pay for human waste products like Miller-Young to teach in our public education system?

I am going to be a grandfather to a granddaughter who is scheduled to arrive in this world towards the end of July/first of August. I will set up a college fund, I'm sure, at some point and I cringe to think that my granddaughter might end up in a classroom where some ugly feminist wacko like Miller-Young exists only because my extorted tax dollars continue to fund her and her "black sugar" research.


I want so badly to make a "typical California" comment in regards to ugly feminists (redundant) teaching useless garbage in our public universities, but I can't. University of Texas, located in the rectum of Texas (Austin) has more than its share of weirdos and wackos. University of Colorado at Boulder is a lost cause. Chapel Hill, home of University of North Carolina, has long been the Berkeley of the east coast. New York spawns ugly feminists and exports them to Madison, Wisconsin.

Feminism, like race baiting, has run its course. If a woman or minority feels they aren't being paid as much as a straight white male, then go find another job where they will pay you what you're worth. If you're good, you will be in demand and you will be paid what you're worth in the market place.

Of course, there are not too many private sector opportunities for researching and writing on "black sugar in the porn industry" where you also get the chance to assault sixteen-year-old girls who oppose abortion.

Feminists might be wise to think about that.


Monday, March 10, 2014

Reason #7 why I carry a gun.

I carry a gun with me virtually everywhere I go except for Illinois and New Jersey.

That would be because I refuse to set foot in either of those states.

As a veteran, I fought for freedom. Illinois and New Jersey are at the height of freedom-suppressing corruption. In fact, no locale anywhere in all of North America has the corruption history of Chicago, and my sympathies go out to the Land of Lincoln because the cancer that is the Windy City has fatally infected the entire state.

I give you Illinois juries as an example.

Here we have the epitome of an absolute scumbag decrepit piece of crap who somehow learned to walk upright and on two legs. He and another humanoid go into a fried chicken joint to rob it and end up murdering seven innocent people.

Seven innocent people killed by these two pieces of human sewage.

Inside the Cook County jail, the perp gets violent with one of the jailers, who in defense, punches the son of a bitch in the face.

The jailer had no way of knowing that fourteen years later, that would be a half-million dollar blow he landed to James Degorski's face. 

For half a million dollars, I wished the jailer had rendered Degorski unrecognizable, unconscious and unresponsive.

Seven innocent victims dead at Degorski's hands. They only got buried. Their families got condolences. Their murderer got almost half a million dollars.

Did some of the OJ jury's cancer spread to Illinois? Or did perhaps the corruption Chicago has always been known for make its way to California?

Let's not let the scumbag lawyer off the hook here. Jennifer Bonjean was crowing after the verdict that it was a "great day for civil rights."

Question for you, counselor: What about the civil rights of the seven dead victims your piece of crap client murdered? How great of a day was it for them.

I carry a gun because I've seen violence up close and personal. I saw it in the military and I saw it in law enforcement. Rabid vermin like James Degorski only respond properly to one form of deterrence, and that is repeated aeration via lead projectiles.

It's obvious the justice system in Illinois--local, state and federal--is more worried about the civil rights of the murderers and crooks rather than the victims and the innocents.

If you need proof, simply look at our present administration in Washington that hails from Chicago. They prosecuted Marines who pissed on dead murderers known as Taliban. They prosecuted four Navy SEALs who did their job a little too well. They hung an ambassador and two former SEALs out to dry and be killed in Benghazi, then another Chicago product screeched "What difference does it make?"

I hope someone shoves a spiked baseball bat up Degorski's ass in prison.

And I hope his communist lawyer, Jennifer Bonjean, finds herself the recipient of the Knockout Game. And then I hope her assailants sue her for not bleeding enough.

Civil rights, indeed.

Ilk like Degorski and Bonjean are why I carry a gun.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Meet the new Sandra Fluke.

Y'all remember Sandra Fluke, right? The floozie broad who chose to attend a Catholic based law school (Georgetown University) and who could somehow afford to go there plus live in the Washington DC area--but she couldn't afford to pay for her own birth control.

I opined in this very blog when the hooha brouhaha first broke that Fluke didn't need to worry about birth control because she was uglier than homemade lye soap.

Oh how I heard from ugly feminists. Many sent me pictures of themselves, ostensibly trying to make me go blind, I suppose.

At the root core of the argument, it wasn't about sex. It was about entitlement.

Here we had an ugly liberal slut (is there any other type?) demanding that we taxpayers pay for her bedroom and backseat antics all the while she is getting a world-class law degree from a university whose Catholic sponsorship doesn't believe in, nor support birth control.

Didn't matter, said the Flukers. They were entitled. 

Now we have another little entitlement princess, again from the northeast, who if Obama had a white daughter, this would be her.

Rachel Channing, of Morristown, New Jersey moved out of her parents' home when she turned eighteen because, as the story goes, they wouldn't let her drink and carry on with her boyfriend (who they didn't like) and they wanted her to observe a curfew and be respectful and do a few chores around the house.

Not this little princess!

She left home and moved in with her BFF, which my kids tell me stands for "Best Friend Forever," and which some reports up in Jersey-land say is her boyfriend.

Fine. Let the entitled little wench pack up and leave. Maybe she'll learn something.

But no. The brat then does what brats like to do. She sues.

You read right. Rachel Channing filed a lawsuit against her parents seeking $650 a week child support as well as continued tuition for the private school she is attending (where she is a lacrosse player and cheerleader and hopes to later become a biomedical engineer), plus tuition and expenses for college. The lawsuit is paid for by her BFF's father. Talk about your douchebags.

I've got to hand it to princess Rachel, she makes Fluke's entitlement mentality look downright ghetto-ish compared to what she thinks she is entitled to.

I'm gonna blame the parents a little bit. This is what happens when you spoil your offspring without requiring anything in return. Throwing money at your kids and acquiescing to their every whim only results in spoiled little shit-ass punks that have all the value to decent society that cockroaches do in a five-star restaurant.

But still, at eighteen the pouty little princess is an adult and as such, her parents don't owe her a damned thing. No more than the taxpayers or Georgetown University School of Law owed Sandra Fluke a case of condoms.

I'm hoping that every human resources and hiring manager across America will burn the name and face of princess Rachel Channing in their mind, and when it comes time for this little brat to apply for a job, they laugh in her face while wadding up her resume and throwing it back at her.

Even better, toss a condom on the resume before wadding it up.


Monday, March 3, 2014

Sissy-ass jeans. Are you what you wear?

This blog post has been a long time in coming. And I'm reasonably confident that a number of the readers of An Ordinary American who are closet liberals and sensitive men who not only go to see Meryl Streep movies, but openly cry at them also are going to be a skosh offended.

For the record, I cried at some movies. I cried at the end of Clint Eastwood's Grand Torino because I wanted one last Dirty Harry scenario where Clint would take that old Gov't 1911 he carried with him and used it to take off the faces of those Hmung gangsters. That he only whipped out a cigarette lighter and got his ass shot off made me cry.

I cried at all of the Death Wish movies--but they were tears of joy and hope because Paul Kersey (Charles Bronson) showed us the way to easily and quickly reduce the crime rate.

And I cried at Animal House and Airplane and Naked Gun because I was laughing so damned hard.

I'm sensitive. I really am.

But what has kind of set me off is the revival of the dreaded designer jeans for men. Or let me rephrase that: The sissy-ass jeans for metrosexuals.

I grew up in the glorious era of the Big Three in rugged men's fashionable denim wear: Levis, Wranglers, Lee Jeans. Levis had the famous "v" stitched on the back pockets along with the coveted little red "Levis" tag that was sewed to the right buttocks pocket. Wranglers had the "don't mess with me W" stitched on their back pockets. Lee had plain pockets--which would ultimately lead to their undoing when Sears brand "Toughskins" dropped the "x" stitched on their pockets and went to a plain pocket.

Jeans say a lot about you. I used to be a Levis guy all the way. They were the only pair of jeans I could abuse day and night that would still stand up and be presentable. They were also THE most comfortable pair of denim anything I ever wore.

Growing up in ranch country and having spent much of my formulative years on the back of a horse, riding and walking through prickly pear, yucca, juniper and cedar brush, mesquite and the other wild, hostile assortment of west Texas native vegetation, your jeans had to be tough. Money was tight back then and it got expensive to keep replacing clothes that wore out--so you bought clothes that were tough enough for the task.

I wore Levis for many years before falling out of favor with them because of their wacko stances on social issues and where they began contributing money.

Not a problem. I had a closet full of Wranglers as well. I kind of preferred the Levis straight-leg jeans for cowboying because the pants leg fit a little more snug around my boot and that kept thorns and bristles and the such from finding their way in during rides through the underbrush. Wranglers had their "boot cut" jeans which were a little wider over the tops of your boots and from time to time, I'd end up getting prickly things inside my boots. Biting insects were the worst of those things.

In high school, you saw a variety of jeans on the girls. As long as they fit snug and tight around the young lady's derriere, then they were just fine with us guys. And if you were a guy, you either wore Levis or Wranglers. Lee jeans weren't too big in my part of Texas.

But then came (expletive deleted) disco in the mid-70s, and with it, silk shirts that looked like a peacock had crapped on them, leisure suits made from polyester, and designer jeans--some of which actually had little fake jewels sewn on the back pockets.

The males who wore the designer jeans were all momma's boys. Every single damned one of them. Their mommas didn't want them wearing rugged manly wear because us ruffians who wore rugged manly wear also were known to imbibe with a longneck beer or two (or three or four), we worked on our own cars and pickups and got dirty and greasy in the process, some of us smoked (I didn't--it took the military to get me to start smoking, a habit I've long since ditched), almost all of us cussed and we'd fight you at the drop of a Stetson hat.

The designer jean wearing males were sensitive. They danced to disco songs, drank feminine drinks like Amaretto Sours and slo-gin fizz (whatever the hell that is), didn't know a phillips head screwdriver from a flathead and were relegated to using full-service gas stations because they didn't even know how to check the pressure in their tires.

They giggled with the girls in the French club, wore their Texas Instruments calculators in little side holsters, had pictures of John Travolta on the walls of their room, used blowdryers on their hair and could recite poetry. A great number of the designer jean wearing males also had a strong tendency to be little smart asses so long as there was a teacher or principle or parent nearby that would offer them safe refuge. When confronted in the parking lot after school, they cried like a jilted prom queen and begged you not to hit them--even though it was they who started the whole mess.

Our president, Barack Hussein Obama, wears designer jeans.

I'm guessing the overwhelming majority of Congress and the Supreme Court wears designer jeans. I suspect the current Joint Chiefs of Staff wear thongs.

I'm a live and let live guy most of the time. Stay out of my face and space and I'll do the same. But I despise smart asses who hide behind the sanctity of "you can't hit me because that would be assault and that's against the law." Worse are those smart asses who berate the cashiers at department stores simply because they know that the managers of those stores, most of whom wear designer jeans themselves, are so scared of losing a customer that they'll let their employees get sassed and harassed unmercifully and chalk it up to "the customer is always right."

Not me. I have no tolerance for bullies, regardless of what they wear. Odd thing is, most of the disagreements I've had in the past few years have not been with men wearing Wranglers. In fact, most of those men were rather polite to the cashiers and counter people. Lot of "yes ma'am" and "no ma'am" type of stuff, never on their damned phone while trying to pay or checkout, and almost always said "thank you."

I'm seeing way too many designer jeans on males these days. I'm even seeing males trying to look like a cowboy or blue-collar worker by wearing cowboy boots or work boots with their fancy little embroidered designer jeans.

Shaking my head.

But then again, as some old Wrangler wearing friends pointed out, maybe it's best that certain folks keep wearing their little designer embroidered mom jeans.

It takes the guesswork out.

I give you our president, again, as Exhibit A.

Friday, February 28, 2014

Just leave me the hell alone!

My pickup truck registration was due this month, something else that rankles the living hell out of me.

I paid sales tax on the truck when I bought it. I pay (outrageous) taxes on the gasoline she gulps. I pay sales tax on the synthetic oil and top-shelf oil filter I replace every four-thousand miles religiously. I pay sales tax on the parts I purchase at NAPA or Autozone or O'Reilly's and install and/or replace. I paid taxes on the tools I use to maintain our vehicles.

But none of that is good enough for the damned government. I have to register the truck as well.

Fine, give me a registration application. I'll fill it out and mail it back to you or zap it to you via Al Gore's internet.

Oh no you don't. Not so fast there, Tex.

You gotta pony up some cash for that registration.

In looking at the list of taxes just to register my pickup (as well as my wife's Avalon and my Z-car), there are about seven additional taxes listed and all in all, the total came out to around $65 dollars. There was an extra dollar charge if you mailed it in, and get this--an extra TWO DOLLAR charge if you sent it in via the internet.

WTF?

The money is zapped right into the Texas Treasury. No wages had to be paid for typical state employees sitting on their dead asses pretending to be busy. No office space had to be rented. It's the internet.

And for eliminating all that additional labor and office equipment and real estate, it cost two bucks more.

Mind you, I'm not really fussing about paying $67 for registering my truck. I remember a few years back in North Carolina, specifically Nash County, it cost $400 and change to register my truck. Cost more than that to register the wife's car. I told the First In Flight state to kiss my Texas ass and kept the Z-car registered with my address in Texas. We then proceeded to begin looking for ways to get the hell out of North Carolina as fast as we could.

You pay an inordinate amount of money for a motor vehicle, then the exorbitant sales tax on top of it, then the registration fees. . . and that should be it, by God. But no. Always a (expletive deleted) tax or permit or fee on damn near everything you own.

We recently replaced the fence on the west side of our yard. We live in a suburb in the northern hinterlands of the Dallas/Fort Worth metro-madness. Our house is located on a large corner lot on a cul-de-sac. The fence line we replaced was around 115 linear feet. Just as we did with the other two sides of the property, we used concrete posts, 2x4s as rails instead of those wimpy little 1.5 x 1.5 rails that rot after a few years and cause your pickets to fall out. We used the wide cedar pickets. Two-thirds of the fence line was with six-foot pickets. The remaining portion used eight-foot pickets as we have an elevated deck coming out of our downstairs master bedroom and kitchen. The taller pickets affords us better privacy.

Imagine my surprise when some geek from the city shows up and informs me that I'm in violation for NOT getting a permit to replace my own (expletive deleted) fence. Imagine what I called him and suggested he do with his permit.

A fence is required around here, but a permit is required in order to build a structure that the pissants down in City Hall require. Makes no sense. But it gets better.

The pissants at City Hall tack on an additional $100 on top of the $57 permit as a "fine" for not getting a permit to replace a structure required by code but for which a permit is required in order to build the structure so that you will be in compliance with code.

And it gets better yet.

It seems we may have an even larger fine because some fifteen-plus years ago, in the dead of night, the little nutsacks known as Planning & Zoning decided that all new fences on corner/cul-de-sac lots had to be a minimum of fifteen feet away from the sidewalk, or there would be a fine involved.

I measured where our house sits relative to the sidewalk on the west side, where the fence was replaced, and our house sits around thirteen feet from the sidewalk. That means to be in compliance, we'd have to give up a fifth or more of our backyard, PLUS have the fence start next to the house in the middle of our master bedroom picture window in order to be "fifteen feet from the sidewalk."

We explain this to the pissants at City Hall and it fell on deaf and dumb (literally) ears. "When do you want to pay the fine?" was all the women at the desk kept asking.

"I am not paying a damn fine for replacing a structure that had I not replaced it, I would have been fined for not having replaced," was my response.

"We'll send someone to collect the fine from you," was the dude in charge's response.

"Tell him to bring a (expletive deleted) lunch," was my response.

Sunday is Texas Independence Day. Sure as hell don't feel like Independence around here or anywhere else in Amerika any longer, what with all the damned taxes, fees, permission requests, ordinances, zoning, permits and fines for non-compliance of rules you don't even know exist.

In Florida, a woman somewhere near Coral Gables, I think, wanted to live off the grid. The (expletive deleted) city told her she couldn't!

SMFH.

Note to government--just leave me the hell alone.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Live or Die: The Choice Colt, Ruger, Marlin and Mossberg must make.

Gun confiscation is starting in Connecticut.

Call it whatever you want, but the rallying foundation of those of us who have been fighting the anti-gunners have long since held that "Registration leads to confiscation."

When the Constitution State enacted anti-Constitutional laws that infringe upon the right to keep and bear arms and demanded that her subjects immediately begin registering certain firearms, a handful of subjects complied.

But more citizens chose not to.


Civil disobedience, I believe, is what the libtards like to call it when hippies burned their draft cards and marched in the streets, or when the Al Sharpton led race-baiters protested and called for George Zimmerman's head.

However, as the citizens are refusing to register their legal firearms, the Constitution State is now drafting and sending out letters of confiscation.

There are a number of problems here, obviously. But one of the biggest problems I, as a gun-owner, shooter and enthusiast have is the fact that at least four major gun manufacturers maintain a significant presence in Connecticut in spite of the relentless war on guns and those who own them is being perpetrated.

Colt, Ruger, Marlin and Mossberg. Four brands of firearms I have long admired and owned products of continue to operate in a state that is now moving towards outright confiscation of firearms it doesn't like based upon nothing more than cosmetic appearance.

The "assault weapons" the Constitution State (oh, what irony) gets their panties in a wad over are nothing more than dressed up semi-automatic firearms.

Colt makes an "assault weapon." Ruger makes an "assault weapon." Marlin makes an "assault weapon." Mossberg makes an "assault weapon." All four manufacturers have or have had semi-automatic rifles in their manufacturing lineups. Yeah, Marlin's was a .22LR but it was still a semi-automatic. Glue a pistol grip (or half-eaten Pop Tart) to it, paint it matte black and add a red-dot to it and it'll be on the "Dangerous Guns You Cannot Own In The Freedom Loving Constitution State" list.

I love my Colt firearms even though Colt fell seriously out of favor with me when they got all elitist and tried the "We're only going to sell to government and law enforcement" route. I love my Rugers, especially the decidedly deadly, dangerous 10-22. My Mini-14 is only a danger to anything broader than the side of a barn because as is most Mini-14s, its accuracy is such that it is hard-pressed to consistently hit the broad side of any barn. There is no finer revolver than a four-inch Ruger GP100. There are wheelguns just as good, mind you, but none better.

And the Mossberg. I love Mossberg pump-action shotguns. I've had my Model 500 with a wooden stock (I don't like synthetic stocks on much of anything) for almost twenty-five years. It's never even hiccuped or given any indication that it might not fire or perform exactly designed.

My days of purchasing new Colt, Mossberg, Ruger and Marlin products have come to an end.

So long as these major gun manufacturers remain in a state that is now in the business of firearm confiscation, I will not spend one damned dime supporting them.

Yes, I realize it is expensive to just "up and move." But consider this: How expensive has it been in blood, sweat, tears and the lives of our men and women, going all the way back to 1776, who fought for our freedom and defended our freedom throughout two-plus centuries? Are the gun manufacturers listed above simply willing to let those sacrifices ultimately go down in absolute vain because it's expensive to "up and move" from a location who has made it clear that your money is welcome here, just not your product or  your supporters?

It may turn out to be a helluva lot more expensive to stay.

Do the right thing, Colt, Ruger, Marlin and Mossberg. Pack up and leave. There are still plenty more states out here that are far more supportive of the Constitution rather than the Constitution State.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Connecticut newpaper using the 1st Amendment to destroy the 2nd.

I first saw this op-ed from the Hartford, Connecticut litter-box liner The Courant several days ago.

It made my blood pressure rise enough that I set it on the back burner for a few days so that I could write about it without having to use one non-stop string of expletives.

Only the leftist, bed-wetting, communist-pinko sympathizing thumb-socking, political ass-kissing losers in the Fourth Estate could be this blind to the blatant hypocrisy they demonstrate, daily in most cases, with an op-ed about going after the "scofflaws" in Connecticut who have refused to register their so-called assault weapons and high-capacity magazines per the state's new anti-Constitutional law.

Yes, you read right: The editors at the birdcage-liner, The Courant, refer to those refusing to yield their Second Amendment rights as "scofflaws" and they do it in the headline of their slop-ed piece.

Here's an interesting little snippit:
Guns defined in state law as assault weapons can no longer be bought or sold in Connecticut. Such guns already held can be legally possessed if registered. But owning an unregistered assault weapon is a Class D felony. Felonies cannot go unenforced.
 I especially love that last line: "Felonies cannot go unenforced."

Really, now.

What was one of the original rallying cries of the anti-gun control movement? I think it went something like "When guns are outlawed, only outlaws will have guns."

Congratulations Connecticut. With the stroke of a pen, you've created fifty-thousand more criminals in the Constitution State--an irony that does not escape the rest of us. And now, the very rag I wouldn't use to clean dog crap off my work boots, The Courant, is urging tough action by the authorities.

Yet, the same rag has a number of stories praising or promoting civil disobedience by those Americans who disagree with a particular law or verdict. The dead-fish wrapper, The Courant, had an editorial praising the civil disobedience after the Trayvon Martin verdict, naturally, and decided that perhaps some laws needed to be re-examined or changed.

The rag praised the civil disobedience of blacks on Martin Luther King Day. Isn't that interesting. Nobody denied Rosa Parks a seat on the bus. Nobody denied blacks water in department stores. But Ms. Parks wanted equality and to be able to sit at the front of the bus. Blacks wanted to drink out of the same water fountain the white folks did. So they exercised some civil disobedience--for equality--and the modern day newspapers, rightfully, praise them for it.

Yet those same papers, using the term loosely, are willing to discriminate against those seeking their Second Amendment civil rights and instead turning them into felons and then encouraging their arrest.

So what we have is a newspaper, albeit using the term loosely, cowering behind their First Amendment rights working overtime to deny tens of thousands of residents in the Constitution State their Second, Fourth and Fifth Amendment rights and demanding action by the authorities, which would mean the police, in apprehending and trying these "scofflaws" who dare exercise their Constitutional rights.

Perhaps the sniveling cowards at the not-fit-for-even-paper-mach´rag, The Courant, might want to think about something:

There are an estimated fifty-thousand plus owners of assault weapons and high-capacity magazines who are telling the "authorities" in the Constitution State to kiss their freedom-loving, patriotic asses. There are over a quarter of a million gun-owners in Connecticut alone. There are less than seven-thousand total cops in Connecticut.

The reasonable conclusion?

Molon Labe.



Monday, February 24, 2014

Gun Owners - 1. Piers Morgan - 0.

Finally.

Perhaps one of the most obnoxious, imbecilic junior Pee-Wee talking heads of the mainstream media has just had his plug pulled.

I guess the next question is why CNN, headquartered in Atlanta, would want to bring an in anti-gun, anti-American asshole from Great Britain to wail away at every thing we do.

Doesn't CNN have enough anti-gun, anti-American assholes right there in their own employ in Atlanta without having to search abroad?

To be honest, the only time I ever caught a Piers Morgan snippit was on YouTube or if someone e-mailed a story to me. CNN, and all their affiliates, have long since been locked-out on every remote control in our household. MSNBC and MTV are locked out also along with most of the ESPN channels.

Life is too short to waste much time listening to the antics and rants of the Ted Turner nutsacks in his employ.

Morgan thought he could make a name for himself, send ratings skyrocketing and change the course of America by demonizing and berating gun-owners.

Well, Piers, don't let the door hit you on the bum on the way out.

Who's next?


Friday, February 21, 2014

Subhuman Mongrel? If you think that offends you. . .

As can be expected, the pansy-asses among us are wringing their hands and moaning over Ted Nugent's calling Barack Hussein Obama a "subhuman mongrel."

If this offends you, then my advice is to stay far, far, FAR away from your average Veterans of Foreign Wars (VFW) and/or American Legion posts.

Trust me, you'll hear the SOB/CIC called a lot worse than a "subhuman mongrel."

"But this is bad for gun-owners," some are saying.

BFD. You do not beg for your Constitutional Rights. You demand them. Millions of men and women shed blood for those rights. What do you suppose they would call a president who literally shits all over the very document they gave their lives to defend?

It'll be worse than "subhuman mongrel," I guarantee you.

Do we really need a list of all the transgressions Obama has perpetrated on the Constitution, those who defend it and those who revere it?

Apparently so.

• Fast and Furious and the death of a U.S. Border Patrol agent.
• Ordering flags to be flown at half-mast for Whitney Houston, ignoring the death of Navy SEAL hero Chris Kyle.
• Voter intimidation via the new Black Panthers (speaking of subhuman mongrels) in Philadelphia which the regime has refused to even look into despite freaking VIDEO EVIDENCE.
• How many gazillion executive orders?
• How many gazillion miles traveled on Air Force One for wife and family and how many rooms and hundreds of millions of dollars spent on hotels and luxuries while telling the American serfs we need to "tighten up our belts and stay away from places like Las Vegas."
• Sleeping through the Benghazi attack while getting ready to travel to Vegas for a fundraiser.
• Selfies and footsies with another head of state at Comrade Mandela's sendoff.
• Pushing for United Nations control over our Second Amendment rights.
• "If I had a son, he'd look like Trayvon."
• The regime continuing to ignore black on white knockout game crimes, but vigorously prosecuting the one white on black knockout game--especially since it happened in Texas.
• Regime jackboots raiding Gibson guitar factory, charging a crime in which the alleged victim (India) said there WAS NO CRIME.
• IRS' targeting of conservative PACs, especially Tea Party supported groups?
• Denying Fort Hood survivors and victims their rightful benefits by classifying it as "workplace violence" rather than the terrorist attack it was.
• NSA spying on Americans.
• Putting monitors in newsrooms to ensure that the "priority news" is what is broadcast.
• Firing every flag officer in the military who is not in lockstep with his new vision for the military.
• Court-martialing four Navy SEALs for doing their job a little "too well."
• Court-martialing Marines for pissing on the bodies of dead Taliban--same Taliban who killed Marines.

And this is just a handful of the transgressions all from Obama's office that I could think of off the top of my head in the time it took to quickly type them out.

The son of a bitch is running our country into the ground and stomping on it.

And yet, we cry and moan over an aging rock and roll guy calling Obama what a huge number of us think he is.

"Bad for our image," is the rallying cry. And now Rand Paul is grandstanding and demanding an apology?

Mr. Paul. You can kiss my ass. We are in a war for the survival of our nation and our way of life. If you'd ever had the balls to serve and fight, Mr. Paul, you'd know that wars are not won--nor lost--with words.

They are won with conviction. Conviction of purpose and conviction of the objective. You blow-dried, pompous overpaid/underworked pansy-asses on Capitol Hill can hold all the filibusters you want, grandstand in front of the C-Span cameras until the cows come home, you can flood us with robot-calls and patronizing radio and tv ads, but at the end of the day, you are viewed by the overwhelming majority of the American people as being far more of the Problem than you are the Solution.

So one of us, an ordinary American citizen, calls the president a subhuman mongrel, and another political animal (Rand Paul) immediately gets offended and demands an apology?

Senator Paul, I believe you just exposed a little more of your true self than you would have preferred.

But that seems to run in the family.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Oxymoron: Today's Military Leadership

This is difficult to write.

It's been more than a couple of decades since I last put on a pair of combat boots and a military uniform, but of all the things I took away from my service, it was that you do whatever you must for the man beside you.

Above all, you never leave a comrade behind and you never forget. Ever.

The leadership, soft and pussified as it is, of today's military would be wise to remember these lessons.

Two U.S. Air Force airmen, majors, were shot down over Laos during the Vietnam War. They were listed as Missing In Action--MIA.

Last year, their remains were discovered by the Laotians, verified and returned to the United States. Military honors were given, except for one.

The pansy-assed take-a-leak-sitting-down so-called leadership of today's U.S. Air Force was too cheap to give these two heroes the traditional honorary flyover.

Said it wasn't in the budget.

Click on the link to see some old warbirds from eras past do what the mighty Air Force of today couldn't.

How much is a warrior's life worth to these asshats? And I'm curious as to something--Among the numbnut colonels and generals that were too cheap to do a flyover for these men, how many of these pathetic excuses for leadership wore command wings? The job of the U.S. Air Force is in the air and it has long rankled officers who did not wear wings that they were treated like second-class citizens.

Too bad. The job of the U.S. Navy is in the water. Officers who maintain their careers in the Navy at a desk far away from the fleet and who've never barfed after a couple of sliders during a tropical storm at sea simply do not get the respect that fleet officers and naval aviation officers do.

Likewise, the Army and Marines are primarily ground forces and officers who never saw any duty (or action) in actual skirmishes or combat are not afforded the same respect as those who have.

We called such people "REMFs" back in the day. My fellow vets know this term like they know the back of their hands--or better yet, the backside of our asses because that's what you constantly had to cover when REMFs were in charge.

Two U.S. Air Force aviators shot down, classified as missing in action, presumed dead, their remains discovered and sent home by another government, and our own stinking candy-assed "leadership" of the Air Force is too damned cheap to give these men the final flyover they earned.

That is failed leadership.

We've seen many other examples of failed military leadership under this bozo of a CIC. Navy SEALs brought to trial for doing their job too well, Marines court-martialed for pissing on the very scumbag Taliban animals that had killed other Marines and were trying to kill the ones who sprinkled a little urine on their dead carcasses. Allen West, for crying out loud.

It would seem that our military leadership has taken the same cowardly "me first" and "it's all bout me and my power" pathway that our corporate Big Business executives have, and that our elected officials have and that our law enforcement chiefs across the nation have.

I served under some damn good officers, one of whom retired as Chief of Staff, United States Air Force and who was like a surrogate father to me. He was a man's man and a leader who led from the front. In my line of work, I often cross-decked with my brethren in the Navy, Army and the Corps. Again, I met and worked  under some damned fine leaders.

Unfortunately, I also worked under some real chickenshits as well, and it was with dismay that I watched them scamper up the ladder higher and faster than the more qualified leaders?

How and why you ask?

Because the real leaders were--and are--too busy doing the real job of defending the United States from all enemies, foreign and domestic. Their place is with their men and women, not shining a seat in the Pentagon with their ass, to paraphrase the colonel from First Blood.

The thing about veterans is we take care of our own, and we don't let people or politics or rules get in our way. Sure as hell not budgets. Those old warbirds are not inexpensive to maintain or fly, yet when asked if they'd do the flyover. . .

That's leadership. And God Bless them for it.








Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Please. Just share this.

In 1995, I was recruited to Kansas City to work for what would be the best ad agency I was ever blessed to write a line of copy in.

It was called Barkley & Evergreen back then. Today, it is simply Barkley and it has become even more awesome. It is the largest employee-owned advertising agency in the U.S. and it is the best place I ever worked.

I miss Barkley and I miss Kansas City.

We lived in the suburbs, in a small town called Olathe  in Johnson County, Kansas. Today, Olathe has grown quite a bit.

When you move to a new locale, you pretty much have to start over on everything from which mechanics to use and trust to finding new doctors and accountants to which restaurants to eat at and which grocery stores to shop at.

Among those things, I was looking for a place to cut my hair.

I found a little shop around the corner from our house one lazy fall afternoon not long after all the moving boxes had been unpacked. I drove over, put my name on the list and waited for my barber. When I  saw her, I almost audibly gasped.

She was beautiful. I mean, stunning as in gorgeous as in jaw-dropping pretty. She was also an artist with hair--men's hair or women's hair. She did a superb job on my ugly head of locks--so much so that my wife made an appointment with her for the upcoming Saturday. My wife and her hit it off immediately.

Her name was Bella, she had just turned twenty years of age and she had an accent that would make a stone statue come to life. She and her husband and their new baby had just come over from Ukraine six months earlier. My wife is second-generation American with most of her heritage coming from Poland and Russia on her daddy's side. Bella and my wife bonded immediately.

We found out a few months later that the U.S. made things easy for illegal immigrants and difficult for legal immigrants. Bella and her husband were having some difficulties that if not resolved, would lead to them being deported. Long story short, I called in some favors I had earned with two U.S. Senators from back in my DOJ days and my wife worked her rolodex from her days as a television reporter with CBS.



Bella and her husband and their baby had become like younger siblings to my wife and I. We helped them with their path to citizenship and they helped us see what was going on in the former Soviet Union. It wasn't pretty.

It's still not.

One little two-minute video isn't going to explain it all. But what I hope it will do is at least move people to perhaps spend two more minutes sending an e-mail to their elected officials or a phone call to them and demanding that we start paying more attention to the former East Bloc nations and territories who want FREEDOM.

Many of you who read my blog and who have read my novel are veterans. You fought for and defended freedom. You know the sweet taste of liberty and freedom because you put your butt on the line for it.

These people in Ukraine are fighting--and dying--for their quest for freedom and liberty. The least we can do is pick up the phone and let our Congressmen and Senators know that we damn well support these folks who are brave enough to stand up to the corruption and tyranny that is left over from the Soviet Union.

Just share the video. And ask someone to take two minutes to make a call or send an e-mail.

It's about Freedom. Isn't that worth a few minutes of your time?

Thank you.

Monday, February 17, 2014

What is it with granola heads?

Okay, so I might be a little late to this party. But then again, maybe some of you still haven't got the news.

The latest granola-head entry to crap on the civil rights of a certain segment of the consumer population would be Sprouts Farmers Market, headquartered in Arizona, of all places.

Must be the Kalifornia sewage overflowing into the Grand Canyon State.

Or maybe it's just Hanoi John McCain looking for one last dump on the Bill of Rights, ala McCain-Feingold, before he gets his traitorous butt booted from office.

The wife and I get through eating barbecue at a local joint a few nights ago and on the way home, decide spur of the moment to stop by our local Sprouts. I had bought a nebulizer way back in the late 90's and would put eucalyptus oil in it and run it on occasion in our house.

For the record, our house is one of those idiotic open-concept money pits where the ceilings are a gazillion feet high, windows everywhere including in the ceiling (skylights), an upstairs open loft at the end of an open-air hallway that has the guest rooms, office and another bathroom. It all looks kinda neat until you get the electric bill in during a normal Texas summer month. You have to heat and cool all that idiotic open-concept air that is doing nothing more than making my electric company rich during the summer, and my natural gas provider rich during the winter.

The result of all of this open-concept air is a lot of open-air allergens flying around resulting in some Texas-sized sinus congestion and stuffiness due to allergies. My (former) secretary was a granola-head and she suggested the nebulizer and eucalyptus oil to help keep the sinuses cleared up while I was at home. It worked!

We had run out of eucalyptus oil several years ago, thus the sudden big idea to stop by Sprouts. Normally the parking lot is packed on a weekday night, but this time I noted that I was able to get a nice spot right up close. As is normal, I parked in between two typical suburban granola-head vehicles--a Subaru and a Volvo wagon. One had a "We did it!" sticker on it--the other had a "Hillary 2016" sticker.

Our Congressional district is 92% Republican and 8% Brain Dead. Guess where the Brain Dead prefer to shop?

So out of my pickup truck we get--replete with an NRA sticker, an Aircraft Owners & Pilots Association sticker (my additional carbon footprint), a Sea Ray logo and of course, my "Texas Secede" sticker--lest any of the Brain Dead doubt which side of the line I lean towards. We head towards the doors and my wife stops faster than our neighbor's Golden Retriever when it hits the electric invisible fence.

"What the HELL is this!" she practically shouts, pointing towards the sign on the door. It is the infamous Texas 30.06 sign written specifically for businesses and bureaucrats who are frightened by law-abiding citizens who own firearms and choose not to be sheep led to a slaughter.

She had her Smith & Wesson Airweight .38 in her gun purse, and I was toting my Beretta PX4 Storm in a Blackhawk holster. We'd just finished eating barbecue and then drove to the grocery store in our pickup truck. The quintessential Texas evening experience.

"Well, screw them," my wife declared, already spinning around and heading back to the truck.

It had been a couple of months since we shopped at Sprouts. Normally it was a weekly (at least) experience and after looking up our expenditures there over the past year, it was over $12,000. A few other family members spent more than that--they still have kids at home.

So I send a letter to Sprouts Farmers Market stating my disappointment, and I get some bravo-sierra boilerplate form response back from some little (or hell, she may be a lard ass for all I know) airhead named "Stephanie" stating how they are striving for a "safe shopping environment."

Uh-huh. Right. Just like the safe no-guns allowed theater in Aurora. Or the safe no-guns allowed shopping mall in Omaha. Or the safe no-guns allowed elementary school at Sandy Hook.

You simply cannot argue with idiotic liberal sheep (triple redundant)--they will drag you down to their level and then beat you with experience.

So I took to Sprouts' Facebook page and posted the following, which I also sent to them in hard copy:

Your store in Flower Mound, Texas has a 30.06 sign on the door. Your boilerplate response is that you do not trust me, a veteran and former federal law enforcement person, to safely and professionally carry my handgun, concealed in your place of business.

Yes, I agree with your boilerplate response that it is your right. It is also my right and that of my immediate and extended families' to take the approximately $32,640 spent in your stores across north Texas in 2013 elsewhere.

Somehow you trusted me to carry a number of firearms and weapons far more capable than my sidearm into all manners of places around the world in defense of Freedom and Liberty. You trusted me to carry my firearms openly--even in your stores--while I was in the employ of the United States government enforcing our laws.

But now as a civilian, the very individual our Bill of Rights guarantees rights and protections to, you no longer trust me with the very same firearm I carried into battles abroad and countless hostile situations here at home.

I think you have the trust issue reversed: It is I who cannot trust you with my hard-earned money and my consumer loyalty. Therefore, I and my immediate and extended families (we're all veterans, by the way) will take our combined expenditures elsewhere.

In addition, I will make it a point to let every veteran in our area VFW and American Legion posts know how much you trust us. I will let every local, county, state and federal law enforcement professional I know that it's all right for them to visit your store while they are armed, but it is not all right for their wives, daughters or mothers to do the same.

In short, having defended your rights with my sweat and my blood and my life, I will now work to ensure that customers are aware that their rights are a distant second to yours--and that they should take that into serious consideration in deciding where to spend their hard-earned money.
No surprise that Sprouts chose not to respond publicly, but instead simply deleted my post from their Facebook page. No big deal--that's the way today's Big Business operates. Screw the little people, we have shareholders to answer to.

Who do these granola-heads think is going to defend them when bad times come? Who do they think is going to act neighborly and give them sanctuary when the roving gangs make it to the suburbs? How do they expect to defend themselves? One only need look at Chicago, Seattle, Anywhere Southern California (where the police are almost as likely as the gangs to victimize you), Detroit, Philadelphia, Denver, Boston, New York, WASHINGTON DC. . .

Oh well. I understand most granola-heads also believe strongly in Darwin. Works for me. In fact, I'll make some popcorn and watch.

I just won't buy it--or anything else--at Sprouts.


Thursday, February 13, 2014

The three little pigs.

No, not Nancy Pelosi, Michelle Obama and Hillary Clinton.

Those would be three large porkers, not three little pigs.

Back in the days of the western frontier, wheelguns with long barrels were referred to as hoglegs. Ever since I was a little boy back in west Texas, I've had a fascination with hogleg wheelguns.

One of the cowboys on the neighboring ranch always carried around a hogleg .357 Magnum in a shoulder holster. He shot many a rattlesnake with that thing, more than one coyote and a few wild/feral dogs. He even shot a drugged out vagrant hitchhiker who he caught sleeping in a shed and who rushed him with a rather wicked looking knife. That same hitchhiker had broken into a farm home in the next county several nights prior and slashed up a grandmother pretty good with that same knife.

.357 Magnum - One.
Drugged out knife-wielding vagrant - Zero.

Over the holidays, I came into possession of a beautiful, barely fired but much admired Smith and Wesson Model 17-4 .22LR with an 8 3/8" barrel. It joined the Smith and Wesson Model 29 .44 Magnum and the Smith and Wesson Model 686 .357 Magnum, both of which sport 8 3/8" barrels.

I'm quite familiar with the Model 17, especially in a four-inch barrel as it is my favorite firearm in which to teach new shooters. I have not fired this particular Model 17, but it's been primarily due to time restraints. I have plenty of .22LR ammo stashed between here and the hangar and elsewhere--and I'm amazed at how hard it is to find, and then when you do, how damned expensive it has become.

No shortage of ammunition for the 17's big sisters as having been a reloader now for over forty years, there is ample stock.

There is something about a wheelgun that just suits me perfectly. Maybe it's my country, cowboy upbringing. Maybe it's my west Texas roots, or just my Texas roots. Maybe it's the simplicity of a wheelgun--you point the thing and then pull the trigger. No magazines, no safeties, no muss, no fuss.

Maybe it's because it's hard to pimp out a wheelgun. I'm sure it can be done, but the commandos and gun-store snipers break out in hives at the thought of carrying anything that holds less than two dozen rounds augmented by six more magazines carried on the belt, in the jockstrap and on each ankle right next to the BUG (which I only recently this past year found out stands for Back Up Gun--something we used to call a "throwdown" back in the day).

And of course, there are the trained internet killers and kings of caliber bragging who argue that no wheel gun caliber can ever match the sheer and awesome stopping power of semi-automatic calibers.

Dunno about you, but I'll take a .38 Special over a .380 and a .357 Magnum over a .40 S&W and a .44 Magnum over a .45ACP any day. And I like .380ACP, 9mm and .45 ACP a lot. I'm still trying to warm up to 40 S&W, but I don't have anything against it.

It's always entertaining when I head out to the local gun indoor gun range and I have one (or more) of the wheelguns with me. You'd be surprised at the number of shooters who actually admit they've never held a revolver, let alone fired one. I generally try to rectify that observation by letting them run a couple of cylinders of ammo through them.

The huge grin that ensues is thanks enough.

I'm sure I'll have that same grin whenever I finally get around to firing this beautiful Model 17.

I'll be sure and let you know.