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 Child Molester, your civil rights have just been revoked.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


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.