Author: Tonya Lanthron

Tonya Lanthron https://elysianhunter.wordpress.com Middle aged, conservative, about as exciting as finally finding the match to the pink sock behind the dryer

Good Morning, Mr. Plunger!- Ass Pilots, Weenie Commentators and Wrongful Sympathizers

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plungerWhy am I the only one in my house who knows how to use this?

Ah, the lowly plunger.  It may not be my favorite household appliance (or would it be more rightly regarded as a tool, like a can opener, or a kitchen scrubbie?) but when you need, it you need it.  Especially in my house.

I should have known that the plunger would be necessary this morning, as Jerry had a lovely Natty-filled evening last night.  12 Natties or more usually = Natty splatters, but when you have the 12 Natties after half a bucket of chicken and a large pepperoni pizza, well, let’s just say the splatters increase both in bulk and volume.

Jerry is one of those rare individuals who can eat like a Sumo wrestler, drink like a whale, and remain svelte.  How anyone can be 5’10” and 180# in spite of taking in 5,000 or more calories a day, I will never understand. Bastard.

Anyway, just as I am about to beat feet out the door this morning, and I try to do that before Jerry gets out of bed and takes his place on the throne, for obvious reasons.  But I hesitated just long enough to hear the plaintive, whiny, cry of, “It won’t go down!”

overflowThis is the vision that went through my head.  I have encountered- and had to clean up- similar blowouts.

Thankfully the mess was confined to the inside of the toilet bowl.  He didn’t try to flush multiple times, which would have resulted in slightly used Natties, pizza and fried chicken all over the bathroom, which would have been a most unpleasant scenario at 7:30 in the morning, but it was bad enough.  A few strategically placed plunges, and all was well.  I am glad sometimes that I have almost no sense of smell.   I was out the door and in the car.  But it amazes me just how helpless an adult male can be, and that’s even after I’ve figured in that Jerry was raised by wolves.

raisedbywolves1Jerry’s baby picture?

I have said it before but I’m really tired of the ass pilots who go off every time some moron commits a gun crime, saying that private gun ownership should be outlawed.  Guns don’t kill people any more than spoons make people fat.  It’s what a person does with the gun or the spoon that matters.

GunsCartoonHow about a conversation regarding personal accountability?

I understand why all those football fans are pissed at Bob Costas.  First of all, football is the last place for sentient minds to be looking for political commentary.  Second of all, though I’m not a football fan by any stretch, most of the football fans I know are rather conservative in their politics.  These guys, if they don’t understand anything else about the Constitution, they get the 2nd Amendment.  The comments Mr. Costas made about gun control in the middle of a football game were at best ill timed and at worst simple minded.  One part of winning hearts and minds is using the correct forum to speak out.  The other part is having a message that actually makes sense.  Poor Bob did neither.

gun-control1Criminalize guns and then only criminals will have guns.  Gee, that makes sense! (sarcasm alert!)

Maybe I’m just getting old, but it seems as if there are so many misplaced sympathies in this world.  I don’t feel sorry for criminals, even if they had horrible childhoods and were raised by wolves.  I got the living hell beat out of me almost every day growing up.  I grew up poor.  I was lucky on some days to have a decent meal and clothes to wear. That didn’t make me a serial killer or a psychopath.  I’m sorry- but growing up poor, or getting the hell beaten out of you by everyone under the sun is not an excuse for criminal behavior.  Acknowledge that your past wasn’t exactly optimal, and get over it.  Do something productive with your life, even if it means merely refraining from harming others.

public hangingI think there would be a lot less crime if we went back to public hangings.

I am a believer in capital punishment in three instances.  Premeditated murder, rape, and child molestation- but these would have to be crimes committed without a shadow of a doubt, i.e. someone caught in the act, or proven guilty by means of irrefutable evidence.  Hang them high and hang them in plain sight.  I think that swift, public justice, as well as to stop mollycoddling violent offenders would do much to cut the rates of violent crime and thuggery in this country.  I also think way too much money and time and effort is wasted on drug enforcement.  Most of the violent crime out there is related to the drug trade.  Take away the incentive. If drugs became dirt cheap and readily available, then there would be a lot less stealing and killing over them.

CommonSenseIt’s probably a good thing that I don’t run the world.

small blue balls small pink treeEspecially when I decide to put up Christmas decorations.

Misplaced and Out of Time, Airing Out the Christmas Baggage

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traditional-christmas-decorations-21-554x554This is TV Christmas.  Christmas in my home has NEVER looked like this.

It just struck me this morning.  I was thinking about the one part of the secular Christmas stuff-you-have-to-do nightmare that was actually something to look forward to- going to my Grandma’s.  Grandma had lots of cheap and kitschy old decorations from the 1950’s and 1960’s, including the aluminum foil looking tree and the really fruity looking elves, and the hollow plastic Frosty with the lightbulb stuck up his ass.  She had a good number of decorations she had made herself too, which I thought were far more aesthetically pleasing than light-bulb-up-the-ass Frosty, but there was room for everything.  Her display was rather eclectic.  I enjoyed helping Grandma put up that corny kitsch, (and the pretty stuff she made) which was all carefully labelled, stored and you knew exactly where everything was supposed to go.  Grandma enjoyed Christmas and all the decorating, cooking and baking that went with it.  Her candy and pies and cookies were 100% homemade, and 100% legendary.

redneck-christmas2Jerry probably grew up with Christmas more like this.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love the Christmas story and I love the way that God came to us as a human and that Jesus lived here on earth with us in a flesh and blood human body.  I love the season of Advent and observing Advent and Christmas as part of the church year.  It’s the materialism and the formalities and the stuff that people think you have to do that really gets on my nerves.  The world could do a lot more with more quiet contemplation on what Christmas really is about rather than running around spending money they don’t have buying crap for other people that they really don’t need.  Just my two cents’ worth on that.  When the “celebrations” turn into being too expensive, too awkward and just plain another whole big stress, it’s time to re-examine the whole hoo-hah and maybe just drop out of a few things.

NativitySceneThe real Christmas story (not Santa Claus or the kid with the BB gun) features a miraculous birth.  It was about God becoming man and coming to earth to save humanity.  I don’t care how much money someone has, you can’t top that gift.  Materialists, you might as well go ahead and admit defeat now.

As far as secular holiday celebrations go, I can cook.  The only thing I don’t do that Grandma always did is I don’t make my own pie crust.  It’s too easy and less expensive to buy the rolled sheets of pie crust than it is to try to deal with just the right ratio of Crisco-to-flour.  I have the delightfully tacky pink Christmas tree with blissfully tacky kitschy ornaments including a buzzard, (Jerry will not allow a live tree in the house, because Mr. Let’s-Get-Wasted-and-Start-a-Fire-With-Gasoline-in-the-Fireplace deems them to be “fire hazards”) and (less one Wiseman, because of someone’s bad decision to use gasoline in the fireplace) the Nativity set Grandma got for me the year before she died.

But it’s hard for me to get into the Christmas biz these days.  The traffic pisses me off.  The crowds in everyplace from Target to the Speedway station piss me off even more.  I don’t have the money to buy gifts for people the way I would like to.  I don’t have the time to do the crafts and cooking which made Christmastime fun like what Grandma used to do.  Jerry goes off on his I’m-so-depressed holiday funk that lasts from December until the end of February, and it just plain drives me batshit.  And to top it all off the past few years, I’ve been spending Christmas at my oldest sister’s, and that leaves me feeling more like the turd in the punchbowl than anything. I might have to break with that latter day tradition and do anything that does not require me to be around my sister’s boorish father-in-law as he’s swilling Chardonnay and catatonically staring at the football game.  Perhaps I will take the camera and go to the west end of Marion and take some tacky Christmas pics.  That is always fun.

72 super beetle sleighMy condolences to the unfortunate ’72 Super Beetle that’s flying high in this rather grotesque display.

Then this morning- I had a very sad longing, a sort of a dark epiphany.  I realized the reason why the holiday cheer was getting on my nerves more than usual.  As a kid, the best part of Christmas was the afternoon.  Grandma and Grandpa would have dinner ready, and it was an elaborate spread.  Everything from turkey to homemade cream pie and homemade candy, egg nog,  scalloped potatoes, you name it, it was there.  They had presents and goodies but that wasn’t the allure. There was something about the whole atmosphere in their house.  It wasn’t high faluting like the house in the picture.  It was modest, it was clean, it was perfect in an unpretentious way, and it was home.  Truth be told, my grandmother’s house seemed more like home to me than my own home.  Grandma was safe.  There were no heated arguments over money or the lack thereof at her house, or being treated to Mom and Dad constantly picking at each other about this or that petty issue.  My sisters were not allowed to beat on me with impunity as they normally could do at home, and most of the time when I was at Grandma’s they were somewhere else which was even better.

redneck whitey tightiesGrandma never decorated with whitey tighties, but now I am seeing some real motivation to decorate and innovate!

Now there’s a stranger living in Grandma’s house.  Grandma died back in 2009, though in all fairness she and Grandpa had both started declining not long after Steve-o was born.  Grandpa died in 2006 aged 91, after only three days in the hospital, and ten years after he had his bicuspid valve replaced (which was the first time since WWII that he’d been in a hospital for any reason.)  Grandma unfortunately died a more sad and lingering death from pancreatic cancer, heart failure and liver failure at age 93, a little more than three years after Grandpa died.  It was hard seeing her lose her sight from macular degeneration so for the last ten years of her life she wasn’t able to do the sewing and crochet and other crafts she loved.  I guess that’s why I hope and pray that my time comes quickly when the time comes, but you get what you get.

redneck-christmas-lightsNo, I am not going out and buying tampons to do this, (I am still delighted that I’ve been able to skip that aisle at the store for over three years now) but I never thought a feminine hygiene item could be made so festive!

Grandma’s house is still there but it’s not the same.  I’m sure the lady that rents it from Dad is alright.  Dad generally tries not to rent to serial killers and nut jobs, although his last renter’s family were pretty crazy after he died and they left the place a disaster area. I’ve not met her but she does have a lovely Pitbull that Dad says is a very sweet dog.  I think what bothers me even more than knowing that there’s a stranger living in Grandma’s house is that I’m not able to be anywhere near as involved in my own grandchild’s life as my Grandma was in mine.  I seldom get to see Sophia, and even when I can, I am beholden to her mother’s schedule and whims.  To make that even worse, I live an hour’s drive away.  I can’t live in the safe house across the field.  Her mother doesn’t want her to be in my house, because she doesn’t trust Jerry, and Jerry smokes in the house.  If I want to see my granddaughter I have to either go to her mother’s house or take her to my parents’ house.  I cherish any time I can spend with her, but I don’t see where I am going to be able to have much influence in her life.  It saddens me.

kissmyassBut, as far as doing what I want to do with secular holiday celebrations, I think this is the best suggestion of all.

The End of the World, Take # 479, Pragmatism Has Its Advantages

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goodinbed

I was fortunate enough this weekend to pretty much not have to do squat.  So I didn’t.  It was lovely.  I missed seeing my granddaughter, but I had such a horrific headache yesterday that it was good for me to simply stay in bed.  After awhile I felt better and figured since I pay for premium cable (mostly because Jerry has to have all those stinking sports channels I don’t watch) I might as well watch TV.  The only thing that sucked is that it seems right now everything on TV is all centered on the same theme- that 12-21-12 is going to be the end of the world.  Never mind that the Mayans, while technologically advanced, were superstitious enough to pull beating hearts out of live humans, to sacrifice to demons.

sacrifice

I really want to trust my apocalyptic timing to guys like that.  I think that the whole Mayan calendar thing is sort of the same concept as going through the calendar on my cell phone and coming to the conclusion that the world must end on December 31, 9999 because no programmer thought it necessary for there to be a provision for a five-digit year. Never mind that by the time the year 10,000 rolls around either a.) all the humans will be dead, or b.) if there are humans they will be using different technologies than we use today.

People have been trying to set a date for the end of the world for forever.  Odds are they’re wrong this time, just like they were back on May 21, 2011.  And all those other times too.

the-end-of-the-worldIs this the End of the World- or just Detroit?

Let’s face it, the odds are against the date setters, and if I were God (good thing I’m NOT) I wouldn’t let them have the satisfaction.  I’d pick a day and a time that’s completely off the radar and surprise everyone which is exactly how God said He’s going to do it:

(Jesus said-) “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.  But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.” – Matthew 24:42-44 (NIV)

I don’t know when the End of Days is going to be, and I’m not really that worried about it, because it’s one of those things I can’t change, but I could almost bet it won’t be on December 21.  Maybe whenever it is, it will be at the end of February when the world (at least Central Ohio’s portion of it) is at its most dark, dreary and depressing.

There are, however, websites devoted to Doomsday 2012  who claim true believers with all the credibility of Britney Spears.  Yeah, the crazy chick who went nuts and shaved her head.  I’ll believe it when Ozzy endorses it.

ozzy

Ozzy Rocks!  Never mind he’s the same age as my Dad.

I just don’t see too many believable authorities giving the 12-21-12 doomsday theory much credence. Unless proven otherwise, as far as I’m concerned, the doomsday sayers are simply modern-day Millerites.  We’ve all heard that noise before. NASA has pretty much shot down most of that hoo-hah.  I figure if these guys could send people to the moon and get them back then they probably know a thing or two about stuff that’s going on- or not going on- in outer space.

Speaking of outer space, you really don’t hear much about UFOs anymore.  I mean, they’re sort of in the same category as Bigfoot.  I’ll believe there’s such a thing as Bigfoot when someone can either capture a live one or find a carcass.  How can a giant ape live in the forest without ever leaving a dead body or even scat?  I mean, bears live in the forest and they leave carcasses and scat.  People catch live bears too.  It would be as if someone is alleging the existence of redneck men but can’t provide evidence of beer cans, Hershey splatters in the toilet bowl, and a trail of cigarette cellophanes and dirty clothes behind them.  Redneck men exist.  Even should they try to hide, we can prove the existence of the redneck male by virtue of all the PBR and Natty Lite cans and Slim-Jim wrappers they leave behind, as well as all the fudgy whitey-tighties.

rednecktatooUnfortunately, most rednecks are not shy.  Even when they should be.

I think I should have some sort of celebratory “The World’s Still Here” party on December 22.  Then again, that’s the day I will probably be at CVS around midnight, buying all the candy my sisters don’t want my nieces and nephews to have.  This year I am really only bothering to buy the good stuff for my granddaughter.  Steve-o has already gotten a high dollar pair of shoes and a car seat to put in his car- early- so I’m not getting him anything else.  I got Mom a velour sweater that isn’t fugly, and I got Dad a gag calendar (so far) that has Toilets of the World on it.  I’ll probably also get him some socks and some long johns or something.  It’s hard to buy for the man who has a taxidermied squirrel on a skateboard.

toilets-of-the-world-calendar-2013-5239-0-1345046806000At least Dad appreciates my humor.

Life is a Gift (a Gag Gift?) and Other Greeting Card Sentiments

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Just a little perspective- for that poor sucker I saw jogging down Morse Rd. in the freezing rain the other day.

I am not in any way, shape or form an optimist by nature.  At best I am pragmatic and can adjust, adapt and overcome, but I hate to admit I am not generally one of those “carpe diem” (seize the day) types.  If one is shaped by early life experience, i.e. having the hell beat out of you just about every day, then, at least in my experience, you tend toward a wee bit of trepidation in simply facing the day.

I know that Christian faith is necessarily optimistic, which is one of the reasons I really struggle with faith.  I admit that there have been many times in my life when the only thing keeping me from the option of self-annihilation has been the Catholic teaching about mortal sin.  I was raised old-school Catholic, even though I can’t in conscience call myself Catholic.  My particular way of understanding Christianity is best described as confessional Lutheran, which is fairly close. I don’t want to end up spending eternity being tortured forever and ever being chewed up in Beezelbub’s flaming maw because I died with a mortal sin on my soul.  According to Catholic tradition, suicide is a mortal sin because if you kill yourself you don’t have the opportunity to confess your sin and be forgiven for it, so you burn in hell.  As miserable and painful as life can be at times- and my life has had plenty of misery and pain- I still believe that no matter how bad it gets (even though Obama was “re-elected” by sole virtue of voter fraud and I’m still pissed about that) automatic and eternal consignment to the fires of hell is definitely a downgrade.

Obama’s bad, and dangerous on many levels, but even he’s not the end of the world.

I need to believe that there will be a day when things are made right- not just in this country, not just on a few small levels, but made completely right.  Yeah, perhaps in this, color me optimistic, or perhaps just a perfectionist.  I want to be around to see it.  No, I can’t explain faith in rational terms, other than to accept Pascal’s Wager.  I would rather live with the knowledge that God IS, than to pretend He is not, and have to face the consequences of conscience-less living at some point.  I know my agnostic friends have trouble with the notion that God is in charge.  I’m weaker than that.  I have to acknowledge that God is in charge, which is (paradoxically) liberating.  I have problems when I start thinking I’m in charge.

Even knowing that God is in charge doesn’t guarantee me a sunny outlook.  It’s a challenge for me to wake up in the morning and see life as a gift.  Sometimes I do view life that way, but more often than not I see it as a burden or even a sick joke.  Sometimes sarcasm is the only way I can get through the day, and that’s not a very good thing either.  I wish I could take the Lord’s advice in Matthew 6:25 and not worry about stuff- but I do.   Worse than that I let stupidity and ineptitude piss me off which (while pointing those things out can be funny) doesn’t do much for my mental state either.  Anger and worry are not a very good combo.

There may be some hope for me yet:

License to Annoy, I Hate the Holidays #584, and The Drippy Winter Funk

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Ok, so I am a brunette by virtue of hair dye.  I’m also over 40.  Cut me some slack.

Oh, yes, this brunette remembers way too much, especially in regard to others’ drunk and stupid antics.   Jerry is attempting to stay sober so he can get good and liquored up for the OSU/Michigan game Saturday.  Joy and rapture.  The game is at noon, which means I can forget my Saturday morning cougar nap.  Jerry will be raring to go by 8AM if not earlier.  I wish he had the same enthusiasm for waking up on work days.  I don’t care for football on a good day, but dealing with Jerry when the beer drinking begins at noon (or earlier) is going to be hell on wheels. I can just imagine dragging him in the car to go home after the game.   It’s almost enough to make me wish I could drink to forget.   Right now I’m not in a particularly social mood either and I’m sure I will be even less inclined toward interacting with other humans after dealing with my relatives on Thursday.

No, I won’t have to eat this.  But in the end, I don’t know if eating humble pie is worth a high class meal.  I’d rather be home alone eating White Castles, truth be told.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so despondent.  I do have a family.  I get along with my parents for the most part and am at least on speaking terms with my sisters.  But these get togethers serve to sort of rub my failure in my face.  I’ve never really done anything worthwhile other than somehow manage not to either starve to death or become a victim of a spree killer, and being around my sisters only underscores the point.

I know it’s been a long time, but a tortured childhood is a gift that keeps on giving!

Steve-o has managed to thoroughly piss off my granddaughter’s mother- so much so that I would be pleasantly surprised if I will be able to have any interaction with my granddaughter again.  He’s actually at the point of wanting to do what the male contributor of his DNA did- signing off his parental rights- which will in effect make me a stranger on the street.  Yeah, I know, the whole biz with relationships and so forth- and I am a cynical one.  I have to admit I pretty much anticipated this, though I am thoroughly disgusted with the POMC and the way he’s handling things. It breaks my heart.  When it comes to kids in Ohio courts fathers have no rights except to pay up.   I’m pissed at him- because I warned him not to be such a dick to her- but I also understand the futility of him trying to maintain any kind of meaningful relationship with his daughter when her mother won’t speak to or deal with him for whatever reason.   The courts always side with mothers in this state, unless they’re crack heads or serial killers and sometimes even then.  She is a good mother, and her relationship to Steve-o or to any of the rest of the family is not an issue there.    If she doesn’t want him or any of us around her kid, she can and will get her way.

This is reason enough for me to avoid the forced family togetherness this week.  I’m pissed at my own son, won’t get to see my granddaughter, and have to deal with my parents and my two sisters.  Damn, I wish I could have a nice, stiff drink.  Or twelve.

I’m almost considering feigning communicable illness to avoid the compulsory Thanksgiving roadtrip to my sister’s house, where I will have my poverty, marriage to a drunken redneck, and my painful lack of any sort of meaningful accomplishments rubbed in my face yet again.   Hello, punchbowl!  The turd has arrived!  That’s how I feel when I go to her house, and I have to drive 100 miles to do it.  Me in my Goodwill and Target discount rack clothes, driving a Toyota Yaris, showing up about as welcome as Cousin Eddy (remember Christmas Vacation) in this suburban wonderland of palatial homes and BMWs.  It’s depressing.  I don’t know why I even bother showing up, because I know my sisters are ashamed of me anyway.  I give them something to laugh at, or perhaps my saga serves as a cautionary tale for their offspring.  Even so, I don’t really think either one of them would give two shits in a baggie whether I showed up or not- except that, for whatever it’s worth, I do bring homemade pies.

I may be poor and not good for much, but I can cook.

There is a bright spot.  I have to work on Friday.  So I have a good excuse to beat feet quickly after dinner and not stay overnight at my sister’s.  Then I’d end up having to go through the hell of Black Friday shopping with the two of them and my Mom.  I think I’d rather slit my wrists with a rusty razor blade and slowly die of exsanguination.  The rusty razor blade would afford a far more pleasant death than traipsing through Nordstrom’s (there’s a place where I am definitely the turd in the punchbowl) while my sister runs around flashing her plastic and Mom’s gawking at all sorts of fugly high dollar kitsch she can’t afford.

I like mustard too, but NOBODY needs this!

I can’t get into the holidays.  I wish I could- but I have no money and no time to do any of the things that would make the holidays fun.   I thought I would at least be able to enjoy some time with my granddaughter, but I highly doubt that will happen either, thanks to my son and his abysmal relationship skills.

If I could avoid my entire family and all the holiday crud and come out sometime in March or April that would be OK with me.  But, alas, the drippy winter funk begins.  I know I have to deal.  Oh, and I have to remember to go to Target and get my scripts.  I don’t want to run out of Prozac anytime soon.

I’ll be armed with the camera for both my Thanksgiving Dinner in the Punchbowl and the OSU/Michigan Beer Drinking and Football Outing.  Comedy is the flipside of tragedy, and I’m going to be trolling for comedy this week for sure.  If I can get past the tears, that is.

Here we go again!

Channeling for Dummies, and a “Today In History” Lesson

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 Today in History, July 27, 1974 : Congress began impeachment proceedings on Richard Nixon.

I have to provide a slight disclaimer here.  I don’t believe in spiritism or communicating with the dead.  It is possible to communicate with the spirit world alright, but according to the Bible when one does that, you’re not talking to your dear departed Aunt Frances and you’re not channeling up George Burns.  Even though you think you might be chatting with someone who’s taking the Dirt Nap, you’ve really been having a convo with Beezelbub and company.  Of course, in Obama’s case, the line between him and Beezelbub is rather blurred anyway.  I’m already convinced that they are already quite good chums, and that Beezelbub’s been in charge of the teleprompter all along.  Just my opinion, that, but I’m pretty sure of it.

She does have skin like a rhinoceros, but not necessarily in a good way.  How about some Oil of Olay?

Not long ago, Hillary Clinton claimed to have gotten messages from Eleanor Roosevelt (Eleanor being the only First Lady I can think of who was both more radical and homelier than both Hillary Clinton and Michelle Obama, but I digress) which not only speaks volumes about where Hillary’s coming from, but about just how extreme Obama and his minions really are.  Learning from history is one thing.  Expecting historical figures to take a hiatus from the Great Beyond just to talk to you speaks both to your own personal narcissism as well as your own insecurities.

This being said, if Obama wants to glean some useful information from the Great Beyond (and again, I don’t believe it’s possible to do that) then Richard Nixon is his man.  If the people can convince the do-nothing Congress to grow a pair and impeach Obama as should have been done early in 2009, that is.  It could happen.  I hope it does.

There is no “working with” Obama and his cronies.  Appeasement does not work with bullies.

The situation the Republicans in Congress have with Obama and his cronies reminds me a lot of myself growing up.  I was the weak and sickly nerdy kid- bad coordination, bad clothes, thick glasses, the whole nerd package. I got the hell beaten out of me on an almost daily basis.  I had my things stolen and broken, and my oldest sister especially, did this with impunity. My sister didn’t stop taking my stuff and pounding on me until she took my car and ran it out of gasoline and almost out of oil.   I finally got pissed, saw red, and on sheer adrenaline alone, I beat the living shit out of her.   To this day- 26 years later- she will not ask to drive any car I own.  Appeasement just convinces bullies that they can extort more and more and that they never have to compromise.  Appeasing a bully just makes you the bully’s whipping post.  Take it from someone who knows.  The only way to defeat a bully is to fight back and show him/her that no means no.

Yes, we the people CAN remove a failed president.

As far as the Thief in Chief, I don’t condone violence or any remedy for B.O.’s despotic and likely illegal regime that isn’t specifically provided for in the Constitution.  The Framers of the Constitution understood human nature and built in a remedy for the people to remove a president who oversteps his boundaries and/or breaks the law.  Obama has already committed multiple impeachable offenses.  It’s just a matter of the leaders in the House of Representatives having the stones to not just call him on it but to actually DO it.  The Senate will follow suit when they realize that the public outrage against Obama might just extend to them too.  Stranger things have happened.

Even though impeachment might be a sort of symbolic thing (like it was with Bill Clinton) it effectively kept him under wraps and was at the very least a form of damage control.

Personally I think Obama should take the hint from Dick Nixon and bypass the drama, although I doubt if his incredible narcissism will allow him to.  Resign now and keep at least a shred of dignity, or wait until all the dirty scandals are dragged out in the open.

Neal Schon Rules, Bad News and Silver Linings, and Other Ephemera

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I’ve adored this guy’s work for 30 years so I’m biased, but this album is good!

I’m glad that I’d agreed to take my sister-in-law with me to the Journey show last night, because when I woke up yesterday I was damned depressed.  Somehow there’s got to be a silver lining in four more years of the worst president in American history, but yesterday morning I sure as hell couldn’t see it.  I still can’t, but part of the Serenity Prayer is accepting what you can’t change.  That being said, I will work like hell to change what I can, and I will still keep on telling the truth about the Naked Emperor.  I have a moral obligation to call out evil for what it is.   I hope and pray that the history of Richard Nixon will repeat itself.  The difference between Obama and Nixon, however, is a.) Obama is evil and corrupt to his rotten core and his deeds far exceed the treachery of Nixon’s, and b.) unlike Nixon, Obama thinks he’s God, and he will not peaceably resign.

The media (who remember have covered for Obama and his slimy cronies all along) are going to say that the GOP needs to move toward the center.  Bullshit.  The GOP needs to move- and stay- more to the right.  Many people didn’t bother to go out and vote for Romney because they couldn’t see a clear difference between the plan Romney proposed and the slimy bait and switch tactics that Obama’s been passing off.  Obama won partially because he’s a liar and adept at deceiving the American people.  He’s played the race card, apparently to the point of making people believe that just because one is black that their race gives them free rein to be completely inept but still get a free pass.  I say equal opportunity also means that every race has the equal opportunity to SUCK- and to be called out and face the consequences when they suck.  My black friends don’t get that, and most of them still think Obama is the best thing since sliced bread.

My black friends don’t believe me when I tell them about Obama’s complicity and approval of black genocide (40% of all aborted babies are black, but black people are only 12% of the population,) and how it works in his best interest to keep as many people as he can uneducated and governmentally dependent.  When I criticize Obama and call out his hatred of our country to them – and even to some white people I know who have inexplicably jumped on the Obama Titanic- the first response is that I’m a racist.  Though I also point out that I would vehemently oppose a(n) (all) white guy who has done and said what Obama’s done and said, my rational arguments against him fall on deaf ears.

Apparently these two ass-clowns were so funny that people wanted an encore.

It’s never too early to impeach, although Obama would really have to do something outrageous to cheese off Harry Reid and that crowd.  If it were possible for the public outcry against him to be so overwhelmingly loud that even the Dems in the Senate would have to hear and fear for their cushy positions, they would throw Obama under the bus, but the problem so far is even with all the egregious errors and trampling on the Constitution and the impeachable offenses that Obama’s committed, the media covers for Obama.  They’ve done a really good job of putting a ribbon on a turd, but let’s face it, even when you put a ribbon on a turd, you don’t make the turd not be a turd anymore.

But the Affirmative Action president gets a pass!  Apparently if you’re black (or half black) you don’t get the equal opportunity to face the consequences when you fail.

Sadly, while I liked Mitt Romney more as I listened to him, even I have to admit that I didn’t so much vote FOR Romney as I did AGAINST Obama.  That’s not a really great motive, even when you are voting against evil.  I think what this country really needs is to have someone really great to believe in, and who can explain his/her plan in a way that connects with the majority of people. Unfortunately the last one we have seen like that is Reagan, and he’s dead.  Romney is a good man, and I thought he had a much better plan than Obama, although I freely admit my mentally challenged deaf Husky could do a better job in the Oval Office than Obama.  At least Sheena is housebroken.  The problem is that Romney is not a Reagan, as much as people like me who are so disgusted and appalled with the Marxist-in-Chief would have liked him to be.  Romney appealed to those who really had it with Obama, but Romney didn’t appeal to those who for whatever (bizarre and whacked out) reason were neutral toward or favored Obama.  Therein lies the problem.

I don’t think that being less conservative and more politically correct is the answer at all, unlike the MSM pundits who want the American public to shut up and be good little socialists like they are in Europe.  I think being American, not accepting the status quo, and standing up for the truth is the only way to fly.  The challenge is how to get the right message across, and finding the right person to do it.

All I know is I will keep on telling the truth, and maybe one person might get it.  I’m too crass and to the point to even think of pursuing political office.  For the most part, I vent, but maybe my venting will make someone stop and think.

Back to Neal Schon.

I am so glad I got to hear his rendition of the National Anthem.

The Journey show last night was awesome, and so were the other bands- Pat Benatar and Loverboy were excellent live, and the whole show was certainly worth seeing.  If anything it lifted my mood and got my mind out of the dark funk.

This too shall pass.  I don’t like to let political views stand between friends, even though I believe very strongly in what I believe in.  At least I care.  I may not be 100% right but then again neither is anyone else.

Everyone has to believe in something.  I believe I’ll get back to jamming to The Calling and stay out of trouble for the afternoon.

Sometimes the Truth Hurts, I Am Not a Confectioner, and an Update from Fly-Over Country

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I think Little Mogadishu (corner of Morse & Westerville Rd.s in NE Columbus) was an excellent place to display this sign.

I’ve always believed the First Amendment works both ways.  Unfortunately when conservatives exercise their First Amendment rights, some ass-pilot has to jump in and block that freedom of expression, and they succeed in doing it far too often.

The Voter Fraud sign- which is part of the Ohio Revised Code- was deemed to be “racially offensive” and that it caused “voter intimidation” because it was put up in neighborhoods where voter fraud might be an issue (i.e. precincts that supported Obama heavily back in 2008.)  Unfortunately Clear Channel caved in and removed the signs, leaving us with another public service announcement asking whether or not we know if we are using the right car seat.

Granted, car seat safety is important, but so is making sure people understand that when you vote you follow the rules.  What is racist or intimidating about that- unless of course, your aim is to cheat, wink-wink?  This sign should only be intimidating to potential cheaters as far as I’m concerned.  What’s the problem?  Oh, apparently conservatives are not protected by the First Amendment?

This really pisses me off.

I am voting- at my polling place on Nov. 6th, because early voting in Franklin County is being held at a location in a not-so-safe part of town, where I feel intimidated even in broad daylight- smack in the middle of  the ‘hood.   I’m sure I’m not the only one of a certain ethnic background (aka: white people) who feels that way either.  But I am voting once, under one name, after showing my ID and signing the book, in accordance with Ohio law.  The voter fraud billboard wouldn’t bother me in the least if it were displayed in my little corner of suburbia- or on every corner- because I plan on following the rules.  Why is it “offensive” down in the ‘hood?  Why do I have to be afraid to go to the early voting center because of how it’s oh, so strategically placed?  Which voters are being intimidated here?

I may not vote early, for fear of not surviving the parking lot of the early voting center in one piece, or with a car in one piece, but I’m still voting.  I just want to be sure my name is in the book at my precinct and that my ballot is counted correctly.

I’m not a confectioner and I don’t candy coat the truth.  Racism sucks no matter which direction it’s pointed, and frankly I am tired of being made to feel guilty for being white and for refusing to apologize for being conservative.

It breaks my heart to see what Obama has done in this country, but especially in the arena of race relations.  I have friends of many different races – even Jerry is mostly Native American- and it makes me sad to see the veracity with which most black people hold on to the very ideologies that keep them from achieving more and getting off of governmental dependence.  I hate Obama’s politics not because he’s half black but because his politics are dangerous and wrong. As far as I’m concerned Marxism, socialism and communism are failed ideologies that need to be consigned to the waste bin of history- just like the list of “50 difficult things you can do to ‘save the earth'” list the greenies put out some time ago (which would be funny- if it wasn’t so downright lamebrained.)

I am afraid Obama’s woeful mishandling of foreign policy, his utter ignorance of history, and his thorough disdain for the importance of the Constitutional mandate for national defense is going to prove to be deadly for not only the US but the rest of the formerly free world.

As far as displaying billboards with laws and penalties on them, why aren’t the smokers screaming about this one:

These are posted in all sorts of places where smokers might want to light up!

I don’t condone smoking.  In fact, I loathe it in my car and in my house and Jerry is well aware of that fact.  But the anti-smoking sign follows the same principle of the voter fraud sign- the no smoking sign would only prove offensive to those who wish to violate the no smoking rule- yet these puppies are posted in just about every public place where a smoker might think it safe to light up.  It’s supposed to deter the smoker from violating the law.  What’s wrong with posting a law in a place where people may violate that law, to discourage them from violating that law?  If it’s not the law and just a threat, I’d understand the whole intimidation charge.  If it were legal to light up in public places and you posted a no smoking under penalty of law type sign then it would be intimidating smokers from doing something legal.  People voting multiple times, dead people voting, and ineligible people voting is illegal.  What’s the problem with pointing that out?

On a lighter note, Joe Biden made an appearance at the high school in Marion today (retch, gag, barf) but he forgot he was in OHIO and not IOWA.  People in Ohio do know the difference between Ohio and Iowa.  Ohio is further east and not quite as flat- for those not acquainted with the Midwest or who have never been to fly-over country.  I hope the people in my hometown see through this laughable ass-clown.  The Democrats have heavily contributed to fact the place has become a cracktown with very few jobs besides welfare. I will have to get the lowdown from the locals, but I don’t think he attracted too much of a crowd- other than the high school students who were probably forced to attend.

The actual movie “Beavis and Butthead do America” was funny, but these two ass-clowns are tragic.

Jerry’s Plate (Not a Guide for Healthy Eating) and Snarkiness Made Simple

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I didn’t add cigarettes, since technically one does not consume them.  But maybe I should have.

I think sixteen beers ought to do it- on a weeknight, anyway.

Granted, the FDA food recommendations have come a long way from the “four food groups” that we grew up with.  That “Food Pyramid” thing was just about impossible to fathom.  Now they’re telling people to visualize their plate.  Perhaps just telling people to save half of what’s on their plate for tomorrow would be much more effective.

For a minute I mistook Janet Napolitano for Henry Kissinger, until I remembered Henry’s a Republican, and he wears glasses.

I have to say I happened upon the Sad Hill site and I am finding it most entertaining, though in a sort of sad way.  I know lampooning the government is as old as the Republic itself (and remember, kids, as my 8th grade history teacher drilled into our heads: “Our country is NOT a democracy, it is a representative republic.”)  I admit my distinct right wing bias, and I also admit that I lampoon the loony left whenever I get a chance.

At least the hand dryer at Target isn’t blowing hot air AND lying.

Wherever Miss (never “Ms.”) Barker is, (I hope she is still in the realm of the living, though I know she has long since retired from teaching) I would love to thank her for her contribution to my love of history and for encouraging people to engage in critical thinking.  She is the one who told us the Soviet Union would fall before 1990…in 1981.  She also let us know the Soviets were not the real Nemesis of the World, as they could not sustain themselves economically and they would implode from within.  The distinction of being the real world villains would belong to the Middle East and radical Islam- back when all we saw of radical Islam was a few nut jobs in Iran.  The sad thing is- unless something starts going right for a change- I would be afraid to hear her predictions for ten years from today.

It’s too bad that students of history like Miss Barker aren’t the ones deciding foreign policy.   Unfortunately we have a president who instead of standing up to terror and injustice abroad, he hides behind Hillary Clinton’s pantsuit and refuses to take the blame for a criminal lapse in security even in our own embassy!  Unlike Reagan, who stood up to the failure of communism, pleading, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!,” Obama hangs out with Letterman, Beyoncé and Jay-Z, smiling for the cameras and schmoozing with the “stars” instead of making time to speak with the prime minister of Israel.  I understand Netanyahu is probably not nearly as “fun” as the Hollywood nut crowd, and he’s not as likely to contribute to B.O.’s campaign as is the Muslim Brotherhood or Hamas, but Israel is our only real friend in the Middle East.  Obama seems to like screwing that up.

I hope it’s not too late.

On a more pleasant, non political note (for those who might like it when I write funny stuff, but wonder why I am so into conservative politics) I came across some artwork that reminded me of my childhood:

I’m glad I generally got along with my Dad.

Of course I found this assignment intriguing, so I had to answer these for myself:

As I said, Dad and I usually got along.  I deserved the air hammer- but luckily, he missed.

The only thing I can recall that Dad did that really was unfair/out of line with me was to force me to be in my oldest sister’s wedding.  First of all she doesn’t like me in the first place, and the feeling is quite mutual.  This was the sadistic harpie who beat the living hell out of me almost daily for years.  That didn’t completely stop until I sent her to the hospital to get stitches in her mouth because she took my car without permission.  Why she wanted me in her wedding was entirely beyond me.  I was also going through a divorce at the time and had next to no money.  I know she was the Bridezilla from hell and I think Dad got tired of her whining about me trying to graciously decline being in her wedding.  I don’t know why she cared, other to deliver one sadistic last laugh at me. She has scads of more attractive and far wealthier friends who would have been glad to take my place.  At least I have the hollow glee of being the fugliest thing in her pictures.

It’s pretty heartless to expect someone to be in your wedding who a.) doesn’t like you to begin with, b.) is going through a divorce, and c.) can’t afford to waste money on a road trip she doesn’t have time to take and on a fugly dress she’ll only wear once.  I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again- the cruelest thing a woman can do to her unfortunate friends, or even more unfortunate relatives, is to ask her to be a bridesmaid in her wedding.  Trust me.   I wish Dad would have defended me on that one, but otherwise I can’t complain.  I got pretty lucky in that particular lottery.