Home for the Holidays

As Christmas approaches and I contemplate a house filled with people, I realize that I have become quite comfortable with just my husband and myself, along with the cat, dog, and horse. It's entertainingly busy, but generally things stay neat and tidy. When everyone hits my front door, I am going to be a lot more like this poor dear soul. OOOOOH Lordy!

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas!

HAHAHAHA!

I've had moments just like this...

One of the many reasons why I would not have been suited to a career that would have required I be in the public eye is that I am prone to just exactly the kind of attack which overtook this poor man. That, and swearing.

Smartz...I haz it.

Found this interview over at the wonderful blog by David Thompson, and I am dropping it here because I love Thomas Sowell, and because I WAS RIGHT! Or, to be precise, Mr. Sowell agrees with me. And that's even better than being right, because it also means I'm smart! Damn, I'm good.

The entire interview is worth listening to (not just the part where he agrees with me) for his theories on the intersection of wealth creation, geography and isolation. Basically, to sum it up, if you happen to get stuck in a shithole part of the world, like the Eskimos or the Aborigines, you will stay poor, backwards, and stupid. People need to interact to create wealth and to progress culturally.

Good stuff.

I would also interject into his thesis that FREEDOM is absolutely required for the creation of wealth because it ALLOWS people to interact on their own terms. You can't force creative interaction. You can only inhibit it.

Just my two cents, but seeing as how Mr. Sowell and I are BFFs now because we agree on "The Donald," I thought he wouldn't mind if I critiqued him a little...HAHAHA!

Ruminating....

Since I am back and yet have nothing of any real significance to say, I think I will just blab. HAHAHA! Blabbing instead of blogging. I like it. It suits me.

So....What is it with liberals? Have they gotten worse? I realize they've always been a little screwy, but lately, it seems ALL of them are just nasty, combative and presumptuous. Against all orders by Farm Boy to keep my mouth shut and sit on my hands, I have stupidly engaged in several discussions with liberals on our company's Facebook page. I know...I know...I should never have said a thing, despite the utter ridiculousness of their retarded memes scrolling by. But I did.

You will have to believe me, though, when I insist that I was REALLY NICE, and I was SINCERELY TRYING to get along while just suggesting that there might be a larger argument in one thread, or in another discussion, asking them to explain their position, or in the final instance, trying to inject some facts.

Oh. no. you. don't!

No context allowed!! You evil right winger!  No explanation of our beliefs!!! You hateful bigot! AND NO FUCKING FACTS!!! My opinions are all I need to be better than you!

I actually had one woman end a discussion by saying that her flat out declarative sentence -- when proven wholly and completely wrong by moi -- was only an opinion. REALLY? She was pretty fucking sure of herself as she threw around accusations and statements that sounded pretty fucking absolute like she had the benefit of KNOWLEDGE and TRUTH. When it was shown that she had neither of those, suddenly it was all just opinion. Even then, she didn't admit to a thing. Didn't acknowledge the facts. Didn't concede one of her bone-headed positions. By taking refuge in the claim that she was only giving her opinion, she was essentially able to ignore all facts and remain firmly convinced of that which is not so. It was like saying, "You can't prove me wrong because it's what I believe."

Fucking nuts, is what they are.

I know I should not be offended because I should know better. I know I should just stay out of it because I know you can not argue with liberals. They don't argue to get at the truth. They argue to let you know how evil and hateful you are because you disagree with them. This is their default position even IF you are sort of trying to agree with them, at least on some points. No. Way. Will. You. Be. Allowed. To. Be. On. Their. Side. If they catch even a whiff that you aren't 100% on board with all their orthodoxy, they will tear out your throat as quickly as they would a member of the Westboro church.

So, I started to think about what is the main difference between liberals and conservatives. I couldn't narrow it down to just one. I think there are a number of irreconcilable differences in the way we look at life and react to challenges. And many people much smarter than I have written about the differences. But I think there are a few important ones.

1. We care about the inside of a man. They care about the outside. Conservatives are interested in the inside of people. We are concerned with laws and social mores that encourage the making of good people. We support families, self-discipline, restraint - both in personal action and governmental power. Liberals don't give a damn about the inside of man, they assume that everyone is just good and that the only reason they aren't good is that something OUTSIDE them went wrong. Something in society or the environment or whatever...but it is outside. And they also are completely focused on laws and programs that deal with only the outside of a man. They focus on feeding men, not helping them lead good lives.

2. We care about truth. They care about power. This is the main reason why you can't argue with them. They are not even capable of listening with an open mind. The accumulation of power always, eventually finds itself at odds with truth.

3. Liberals are cowards. Life scares them. That's why they want power so badly. They don't like reality. They are scared of it. But if they have enough power, they think they can alter reality, make it "nicer." Their inherent cowardice is why they believe in fairy tales like gun control or that Islam means peace, and it's why they fight battles that carry no threat like global warming.

4. They are horny little bastards. One of the issues that animates them more than anything else is sex. They seem inordinately obsessed with any and all issues surrounding sex...and anything that would demand of them some degree of responsible behavior is THEOCRACY!!!! BIGOT!!! HATEFUL EXTREMIST RIGHT WINGER!!!

So, to sum it up, liberals are scared, horny little liars who only want to be taken care of so they can act like spoiled adolescents their entire lives.

Don't take it from me.

I Love You Guys

After months of avoiding blogging due to a serious and incurable case of "Performance Anxiety", I can't tell you all how ridiculously tickled I am to have old friends pop over so quickly and say, "Hi!"

I know it sounds weird, maybe even slightly creepy, that despite the veiled format of my blog, I really look upon my readers as friends, confidantes, and compatriots. Friendship is a tricky thing. It can be hard to understand the why's and the how's of when it happens, especially as we grow into adults and

we expect our friendships to reflect something more than that we sat next to each other in study hall. As I have grown older, my friendships are fewer, but more important, and they develop more slowly. They require a shared sense of humor, reasonably compatible viewpoints, and a deep curiosity about life.  This blog allows all those things to be experienced back and forth between me and my readers/commenters, and for that, I am grateful.

Thank you, all. For stopping by. For sharing your thoughts. For making me laugh, scratch my head -- sometimes slap it -- and for keeping me sane. Okay...that last part is a stretch, but I'm flattering you, so take it and be happy.

Perhaps I am especially sentimental because we've just celebrated Thanksgiving and the message of gratitude still resonates in me on a daily basis.

Nobility is one of my greatest virtues. LOL!

So thanks. I love you guys.

Checking in...instead of checking out.

One of the interesting things about blogging is that when you start and have absolutely NO audience, you have no expectations and no sense of obligation. You can talk crap, make up stupid stuff, ramble, rant and generally carry on all by yourself. Then people find you and it is thrilling! You exchange comments, you are childishly tickled to death that they would take the time from their day to read your shit, and you think of them as friends. But friends that you must perform for. I know that sounds weird, but there always is this underlying obligation that I must write something WORTHY. This is difficult for me as I have never written anything that is WORTHY in my life, and now that I have developed this sense of responsibility to do so, I've become a recluse...waiting for the WORTHY to kick in.

It hasn't.

So, since I miss my internet friends, I'm going to just write to say hello, I miss meeting you all here, and DOES ANYONE ELSE THINK THE WORLD IS GOING NUTS???

And by nuts, I don't mean the Islamic shootings in Paris and San Bernardino. That is completely rational on their part, given their beliefs, and only to be expected. The insanity is in the West's utter inability to understand and respond appropriately to the threat we face. People are being butchered, crucified, burned alive, raped, shot, and beheaded in the name of a brutal god, and our political betters rush to the microphones to tell us low grade, bare-foot bigots to just hold onto our reactionary, uneducated hatred and settle down.

Hundreds shot dead in Paris and our Beloved President lectures us FROM PARIS about the San Bernardino shooting, saying that this simply doesn't happen anywhere else. While I love irony as much as anyone, this borders on the creepy. And the primary thing our DOJ is worried about is anti-Muslim backlash. You remember how Muslims were being dragged out into the street and set on fire by the hundreds after 9/11, don't you? It was awful. Wouldn't want THAT to happen again.

Hundreds dead in Paris and Obama tells us from Paris that it never happened. Fourteen dead, and Loretta Lynch is more worried about what has never happened than what has just happened.

The world is going nuts!!

The worst thing is that history shows us that when the world starts going nuts, there is no stopping the plunge. We don't come out of the grand mal seizure until it exhausts itself in its own time and millions are dead. I think we are going to see some Very Bad Things very soon.

But one of the things I know for certain about such insanity -- there is nothing any of us can do about it. Not a damn thing. Given that reality, and the fact that I am sitting here alone, having eaten the last of three teeny little chocolate peppermint candies, I am pissed.

But I have a little Cognac left, so I have the proper libation for pondering.

Why are we so stupid?

We refuse to admit there's a connection between the fact that every time a Muslim becomes MORE religious, innocent people end up dead. When Catholics become more religious, they become Mother Theresa. Major difference.

Why are we so scared?

The main argument against recognizing Islam for what it actually is seems to be that there are so many of them that we can't admit the truth. People look at me and gasp, "But there are over a billion of them!" My answer, "So fucking what? That just means we've got some work to do, and we'd better get started."

Why is the West so willing to commit cultural suicide?

Knowing what we do about Islam, why are we letting in hundreds of thousands of unvetted Syrian refugees? Our leaders are either retarded or dangerously treacherous.

And why is SCIENCE! the god of the liberal until it smacks their precious tolerant ideology around? Then you're a religious bigot for using SCIENCE!

Studies prove it.

I get the feeling this administration just isn't on our side. Or on the side of the Constitution. But Joe Walsh is on our side. And on the side of our Constitution. Go, Joe!

There is just so much craziness, and there simply isn't enough Cognac.

And I have been having a lot of them lately...

True Story

Trying to Make Sense of the GOP

I am throwing in the towel, kittens. The world of politics, at least from my conservative point of view, has gone completely bat shit crazy. First, we have the inexplicable love affair with Donald Trump, aka THE Donald. REALLY? REA-FUCKING-LLY?

After the megalomaniac we've enjoyed in the White House for the past seven years, are we really so eager to elect a man whose nickname is THE Donald?

 "I'm sorry? What was that again?"

Even Bill Murray showed some restraint and humility about using "THE".

I don't care HOW mad you are, electing a man whose nickname is THE anything is a terrible mistake. Complicate that with the facts that "The Donald" has been a Democrat his entire life, a crony capitalist, and an embarrassing loud mouth, and you are a complete and utter idiot to consider him as a viable conservative candidate.

Now we have our delightfully "robust" Republican-majority House acting like a bunch of snitty mean girls over Paul Ryan not being conservative ENOUGH!! Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me???????

"The Donald" is conservative enough...but Paul Ryan isn't?

Excuse me while I flip out.

I have a headache and the room is spinning.

Best Tweet of the Day!

@Warden_AoS who won the debate last night? Sen. Marx or Sen. Engels?

— The Lockean (@TheLockean) October 14, 2015

Here I am, playing both parts.

This is my life. I know...I know...

On any given day I am either the lead dog...or the poor dear pulling up the rear.

There is no middle ground with me.

I don't know what this means and I don't care.

Just saw this new WARNING from Google or Blogger or basically I don't give a shit who.

European Union laws require you to give European Union visitors information about cookies used on your blog. In many cases, these laws also require you to obtain consent.

As a courtesy, we have added a notice on your blog to explain Google's use of certain Blogger and Google cookies, including use of Google Analytics and AdSense cookies.

You are responsible for confirming this notice actually works for your blog, and that it displays. If you employ other cookies, for example by adding third party features, this notice may not work for you. Learn more about this notice and your responsibilities.

I don't know if I use cookies or not. I can barely post. I'm not going to learn or investigate or spend one tiny little second finding out.

Fuck off.

European laws. If I have any European visitors...get bent.

Bernie Sanders' Fiscal Policy

FREE STUFF! Yeah!!!!

But how do we pay for it?

Bernie Sanders fiscal plan: pic.twitter.com/gOSyIO7hC3

— TheShoeFits (@theshoebart) October 14, 2015

It. Could. WORK!

But I think Bernie needs to use BOTH hands for it to work. Just my guess.

Best Halloween Scare EVER!

Of course, he still died...

An Indian man who shocked hospital staff when he woke up on an autopsy table just before a post-mortem was about to begin has died, authorities said Wednesday.

Great joke, but you're not getting out of it that easily. They said you were dead, and you're going to do it. Quit putting it off!

And then there are the people who MIGHT have died, except for extraordinary and expensive medical care, but can't be bothered to change a fucking thing about their crappy diet once their life has been given back to them.

I don't get people.

I'm cranky today and my sense of humor is skewed to the bizarre. Maybe it is because of the Democratic debate last night. What a nightmare! Could someone PLEASE tell Bernie Sanders that he doesn't need to talk with BOTH FUCKING HANDS every time he gets the mic? God! I wanted to scream at him to stop waving his hands around wildly as if he was determined to fill up all the space. All those gyrations and punctuations with his hands did NOT make the weird little pervert seem bigger or smarter. There is absolutely nothing you can do to seem smarter when you are a crazy-looking old man spouting the same old socialist nonsense that has proven disastrous everywhere it has EVER been implemented. But -- FREE SHIT, FOLKS!!! Now that's a political promise that will always have them clapping for more, like seals for sardines. And then there was Hillary, with the pronounced (and might I suggest injected) cheeks, smiling constantly as she parroted every answer anyone else gave. "Yes, I would do that, too..." "I agree with..." "Me, too!" And if she wasn't trying to grab someone else's answer, she was inserting "I'll be the first woman president" in the oddest places. But I did have to hand it to her when she mentioned all her accomplishments. That took some balls.

Oh, and everything will be fabulous once we tax the living shit out of anyone who has more than the idiots at the bottom. And I use idiots in the nicest possible way.

So, it's all good.

Chickens, Churches, and Shave Ice

Well, Farm Boy and I made the annual trek to Hawaii recently and, being entirely without imagination, went to Kauai...again! However, we are already discussing visiting the Big Island next year...but because we're bored, not imaginative.

Kauai is gorgeous. Breathtaking. And we always enjoy it. How can you NOT enjoy being in Hawaii? But you reach a point where you feel like there is simply nothing left to discover. And you're right. At least nothing left to discover that is superficial, easy, and can be enjoyed in an afternoon with relatively little effort - which is what I'm looking for on vacation. I am not looking to establish life long relationships with people I happen across, nor am I looking to hike 14 hours to places where, once you're there, you are as isolated as if you were on the moon. No, thank you. Vacation, for me, is hiking, swimming, boogie boarding, sailing, and snorkeling, but all within easy access of Mai Tai's, grilled mahi mahi, and soft beds.

Which brings me to my annual complaint about Mai Tai's and Hawaii. My only explanation for the complete corruption of a VERY sophisticated cocktail is that Hawaii is all about tourists who expect fruit in every fucking thing they eat or drink, while the Mai Tai is an extremely complex drink invented in San Francisco by Victor J. Bergeron at his restaurant, Trader Vic's. Mai Tai's do. not. have. any. fruit. in. them. Let me repeat that. Mai Tai's do not have any fruit in them. No fruit. No fruit juice. Nothing! Not guava. Not pineapple. Nada! Zero! Zilch.

The perfect Mai Tai has rum, more rum, topped off with a little rum, some orgeat syrup, Cointreau, and a tablespoon of lime juice (okay! technically fruit juice, but it's tart, citrusy and not sweet at all, so work with me on this...)


 
If you want it sweeter, you can add rock candy syrup, but why ruin a great drink?? It should be shaken and served in a martini glass, with the last rum (dark!) floated over the top. It is the quintessential cocktail, combining all the elements of an elegant drink - it looks beautiful, it tastes divine and it is served in the most elegant glass of them all. What you get in Hawaii has umbrellas, fruit, hurricane glasses and just UGH!!! It's not that the rum drinks served aren't tasty. It's that they are childish and remind me of the shit we drank in college that had to be sickeningly sweet for us young'uns to get down. I always find it amusing that the entire time I am in Hawaii, where Mai Tai's are on every menu, I am wistfully thinking of when I get home and get make an ACTUAL Mai Tai.

But Kauai is the Hawaiian experience. For anyone who has never visited Hawaii and just has pictures in their minds, Kauai is what you are picturing, other than Waikiki. Kauai is the island that is lush and floral and riotously verdant, waterfalls screaming to the valley floors, and cliffs impassable and ancient. But, more than that, Kauai is the island of chickens, churches, and shave ice.

Everywhere you go on the island, there are wild chickens. Parks. Roadsides. Restaurants. Beaches. There are chicken everywhere. There are also roadside barbeque pits serving huli huli chicken, so I'm guessing their food costs are kinda low. And it's delicious!






After chickens, the most plentiful thing on Kauai are churches. Lots and lots of churches. One can accuse me of cynicism, but I'm guessing that every church pastor EVER lobbied to open a church in the outpost of Hawaii. You don't see the same number of churches on tropical islands where it is customary to eat foreigners. Nope. You see churches on every single block of Kauai. Saving souls. One paradise at a time. And lest you think I am exaggerating, there are 127 churches on Kauai. One hundred and twenty-seven on an island that is 552 square miles. And most of those are uninhabitable. Or undeveloped. 

And then there is shave ice, which I am not even going to get into because it is a fucking snow cone - no matter what you call it. And I don't care HOW you try to romanticize it because you are hot and it feels good to suck on ice -- you are still sucking on ice. For my money, ice cream is always the best choice. And Lappert's has amazing, incredible, phenomenal ice cream. Ice cream that makes you sit down. Ice cream that stops conversation. Luscious luscious ice cream. 

But any Hawaiian island, provided you're on the west side, has the most amazing sunsets. They're so good you wait all day for them. 

The view from our hotel room.

For loyal readers who suffered through my post on United Airlines and its crappy first class service, Hawaiian Airlines is incredible compared to United. Actually, there is no comparison. If you are going to Hawaii, fly Hawaiian. That is all I have to say about that.

Aloha!

Off Topic - But Still Vital Information

I'm a Taurus, and this couldn't be more true right now.

Addendum to My Last Post Because I Still Can't Believe Trump Hasn't Been Laughed Into Obscurity

Have We Lost Our Ever-Lovin' MINDS????

Okay, kittens, I take a LITTLE break from slapping the stupid out of people, and the conservative movement in this country seems to have jumped onboard the Trump Train like we're in India or some place.

What are you thinking???

This is stupid on so many levels I find it difficult to know where to start; should I slap you all silly, or just throw a throat punch?

WTF?

Trump???

Honest to GOD, kittens, this is so beyond ridiculous that it is hard to fathom.

This is a man who first and foremost, because I am nothing if not shallow, looks ridiculous. As far as I am concerned, if you are worth BILLIONS and you can't find someone to hire that can do a better job on your hair than that - I do. not. want. you. running. this. country. PERIOD!

Second, this is a man who has made those billions by being snuggly with politicians, using tax laws and bankruptcy laws to scam the system. He is everything we are supposed to hate about the corporate/government fascism that is destroying the free market in this country.

Third, if Trump has ANY political record as far as his philosophical leanings, it is as a Democrat. He supported Hillary in '08 and even gave money to her campaign. He pushes that aside now as if it means nothing, saying that he is a businessman and it was his job to be friendly with politicians. So how come he wasn't friendly with Romney or Bush or ANYONE on our side? Hmmmmm???? Because he's a fucking megalomaniac who apparently has tired of simply buying politicians and now wants to BE one.

Are you kidding me??

Then there is the bald-faced fact that Trump is both arrogant AND ignorant. Haven't we had enough of that with President Peevish? Trump knows next to nothing about foreign policy, and so let's elect him now, as the world is heading straight into the jaws of Hell. Great idea. Just swell.

I understand that the conservative electorate in this country is mad as hell and is tired of being lied to by politicians. So being lied to by a businessman is BETTER? Really? How?

I despair. We are supposed to be the grownups in the room. Let the Democrats support candidates purely because they tap into their angst and desires, caring not a whit as to whether they will be any good at the job. That's what Democrats DOOOO. They elect Prom Kings and poseurs who tell them nice things about themselves and scare them silly about mean, nasty, greedy Republicans. We are not supposed to do that! We are supposed to be the ones who look critically at a man's history, background, character, and experience. We are the JUDGMENTAL ones, goddamn it! And now, when it is so important to be judgmental, we seem to have lost the capacity to judge at all and are acting like adolescents having a temper tantrum.

I give up.

I have a headache.

If The Donald continues leading in the polls, this will be my new bumper sticker. I. swear. to. God.

Apparently, liberals have finally demonstrated an understanding of how the marketplace actually works.

(Okay...my mad blogging skillz are a little rusty, and I have seen fit to edit this blog post several times. So for anyone who jumped right on over and read this when it was first published...it is different now. I fixed it. You're welcome.)

******************************

Supply and demand, bitches. Supply and demand.

The fact that with their favorite "non-profit", Planned Parenthood, the "supply" is illegally and ghoulishly harvested baby parts is a minor public relations issue, it would seem. Even for liberals, defiantly supporting such abhorrent actions is problematic, so websites like SNOPES jumped into action and decided that the allegations are UNDETERMINED.

Contradicting the notable SNOPES and its assessment of UNDETERMINED, CNN actually ran with the story just a couple of hours ago. Of course, they carefully presented it as if the damning evidence could be construed as maybe, perhaps, sorta, kinda UNDETERMINED as well, and therefore, we should all withhold judgment...you know...until the whole thing blows over.

This cautionary stance of not leaping to judgment seems, however, to be a position which proves much more difficult for liberals when presented not with the bloody harvested body parts of fetuses, but with the juicy raw meat of Senator Cruz's new book, "A Time for Truth".  Why, THEN, there is absolutely no reason whatsoever to hold your punches. UNDETERMINED, our collective asses!

Because THIS time, while the supply is neither illegal nor ghoulish nor intensely horrifying, it's worse. It is a bestselling book from a man who openly challenges liberal ideas while defending the wisdom and success of conservative ideas. And it gets worse. The man has a father who is -- HORRORS! -- a preacher! And -- unimaginably -- even worse! The man is a Tea Party hero.

So "The Time for Truth" is now, and the truth is Ted Cruz is a man who doesn't like liberals. I know...get outta here!

SHOCKED! I'm shocked, I tell you!

The good news is that his organs might be worth something.

This. Must. Not. Stand. Dead babies are just fodder for jokes, doncha know, but conservative arguments are completely outside the boundaries of civil society. But because of the obnoxious little thing called the 1st Amendment, at least for the time being liberals can't just outlaw his book. So they are doing the next best thing. Eliminating the demand. First, the New York Times ignored the book entirely, then they lied about it.  

Yet -- inexplicably -- the demon spawn's horrifying book is still SELLING!

Supply and demand, bitches. Supply and demand.

Did you say, "Shut up?"
You're going to have to speak up.
I can't hear you.

Senator Cruz, a man with a pointed and acerbic sense of humor, tweeted this:

Today's NYT *Bestseller List *A certain book was curiously omitted: https://t.co/Q0W2jMlZCT #ATimeForTruth pic.twitter.com/6pthBN1YZs

— Ted Cruz (@tedcruz) July 12, 2015

So liberals have found themselves in the untenable position of being forced to acknowledge the hideous book and its loathsome author. In today's YAHOO! news, Jerry Adler's review of the previously invisible book makes the front page. He clearly struggles with the idea that anyone could actually dislike liberals for any reason other than being motivated by resentment or pettiness. So, of course, Mr. Adler writes about just how resentful and petty Cruz is. So you needn't waste your money on the book.

There is nothing UNDETERMINED about the review of Cruz's book.

Cruz’s biography is a tale etched in resentment. Most often, the villains are Democrats, reflecting a visceral dislike that was bred into him by the father he still idolizes — a father who refused for two years to call his son by the Americanized nickname he adopted (he was born Rafael Edward) because he shared it with a certain famous Democratic senator from Massachusetts. Later, he suffered at the hands of his freshman roommate at Princeton, a “liberal student from New Jersey” who expressed his contempt for the cowboy-boot-wearing Cruz by gluing shut the snooze button on Cruz’s alarm clock. Then there was a “fairly well-known liberal professor” who gave Cruz a B instead of the A he thought he deserved for a paper that compared private charity, favorably, to government welfare as a way to help the poor. “Was it ideological prejudice, or something else?” Cruz asks darkly, adding that the grade probably cost him the summa cum laude diploma he otherwise had earned.

And things only got worse at Harvard Law School, a hotbed of “trendy Marxist philosophy” and a bastion of affirmative action. His outspoken conservative views kept him from the presidency of the Harvard Law Review, and he had to settle for a senior editing post instead. But this apparent setback was not actually a failure, because “the election was not necessarily for the brightest among us, or the most accomplished, or the most articulate. None of us wanted someone like that getting the job and thus increasing his or her odds of getting a Supreme Court clerkship at our expense.” That should reassure any readers concerned that Barack Obama, who was president of the law journal, may have been smarter than Cruz. (Emphasis all mine.)

OOOOOHHHH! That last part stung! And if our darling President Precious had ever allowed ANY college transcripts to be released, we might know the answer to that concern. As it is, we can just assume, according to Mr. Adler, that The Beloved is smarter than any right-wing, Bible-thumping, resentment-filled, woman-hating, sore-loser, scary-as-all-hell extremist.

You can take it on faith. Like the Iran deal.

In short:

Late-term living babies crushed with careful deliberation for their worth as dead babies. What's the big deal? I mean, other than insuring that the body parts are worth money.

A man who passionately believes in limited government and the freedom of the individual. OUTRAGEOUS!!!

This is all I've got to say about the recent bullshit covering every single blog, news report, TV show, and Facebook page.

This made me cry.

Because I'm a softie who can't get through a Disney film without tearing up. Add helpless animals and I'm sobbing like a baby.

Years ago the entire family went to see the Disney film, "Eight Below". WHYYYYYY I don't know. First, it was a Disney film. Second, it was about loyal, abandoned dogs. What the hell was I thinking??? Fifteen minutes into the movie, maybe less, I was sobbing like a teenaged girl dumped by her boyfriend at a school assembly. I. MEAN. SOBBING! I was choking I was crying so hard. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't be quiet. I was blowing snot bubbles as I slobbered and wailed. People were looking at me with barely suppressed disgust, bordering on fury, and still I sobbed and choked and coughed and hiccuped. It was awful. My kids actually got up and moved a couple of seats away.

After the movie they wanted to go out to dinner. As we exited the theater, they took one look at my ravaged face and, rolling their eyes, resigned themselves to leftovers at the house. No way were they going to be seen in public with me.

So, yeah, this little video made me cry.

I'm an awful person.

I had to watch nearly the entire video before I realized that it wasn't a joke.

How awful does that make me???

This Old Horse

This old horse, the Rancher said,
she’s seen some better days,
she’s eating up my profits,
and costs a lot for hay.

Another horse would suit me,
a stronger one at that,
she's seen a lot of miles
just like my cowboy hat.

This old horse, the Rancher said,
she helped me herd my steer,
I’m pretty sure she's magic,
I know I hold her dear.

Another horse would suit me,
one that can run fast,
maybe one that’s younger,
or maybe one that lasts.

This old horse, the Rancher said,
she’s long and far in tooth,
my children do remember,
Why not trade her now?Bring her to an auction?
Replace her with a cow?

The Rancher's brow grew heavy,
he took a staggered step,
his eyes did show his hardships,
in wrinkles, as they crept.

His breath, he took in deeply,
as he poised to say his words,
it’s as if the earth grew silent,
that his message should be heard.

This old horse, the Rancher said,
has given me her life.
I wouldn’t trade for anything,
nor either, would my wife.

Another horse would suit me,
and perhaps someday will come,
but this old gal, I love her,
she is the chosen one.

This old horse, the Rancher said,
her service she did lend,
her and I, have seen the years,
this old horse, she is my friend.

Another horse would suit me well,
but her home is here to keep,
I owe her sanctuary,
my love for her is deep.

Another horse would suit me well,
and younger days for me,
and I will keep my promise,
until our last breaths, set us free."

Poem by Jess Vee

Cats ARE assholes.

On her blog, Rachel Lucas used to have a category entitled "Cats and Other Assholes."

She was right. Cats ARE assholes.

Honestly, the owner taking the video should have known.

Because sometimes you have to improvise.

Submitted without comment.

Okay...my comment is, "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Balancing Act

A friend of mine dated an Argentinian polo player years ago and he was the quintessential stereotype...gorgeous, with long dark curling hair, charming, rich, and a real snake...but she was having fun, so whatever. I used to tease her mercilessly by strutting around and tossing my hair back in imitation of his exaggerated gestures every single time I said his name. "Rolando!" You just had to do that. Throw back your hair and give it a flamboyant Latin swoosh...!

But there is something about polo players. They are all fabulously good looking, rugged, lean, and well...yeah....

And can they ever ride!

Such A Deal!

I'm thinking someone made a wee little mistake?

Even I am not so desperate to lose "the multidimensional aging around the eyes" that I would spend $13,555.00 for a 1 oz bottle of super duper serum.

But to each her own.

Besides, for a limited time you can save $13,440.62! Only six left at that price! Jump on it, ladies.

LOL!

Bacon, anyone?

If you don't want to play with explosives, this is a pretty effective method of getting rid of wild hogs.

PAINFULLY cute.

This is so utterly adorable that I can't stop watching it. I also can't stop laughing...but that's me. I was never much of a mother, either. I was always the one laughing the hardest instead of running to their aid. Oh well...they both survived....just don't ask them about all their fond memories....HAHAHA!

A Good Idea

Hey...it could work.

Even the Pope thinks so.

The Unintended Consequences...

Lovers' Quarrel?

Hell has no fury like a goat scorned.

How to NOT stick the landing.

At all. Ever. Even with help.

How many times can YOU land after only jumping once?

Get Your Eye Bleach...

Over at Ace of Spades Headquarters, THIS is what started my day. Not as good as learning that we dropped nukes on ISIS overnight, but still pretty nice.

Attacks on Koch brothers to blame for Democrats' midterms losses, party officials say: http://t.co/zI2QvW1Nrb pic.twitter.com/msM1Ju6T7R
— The Washington Times (@WashTimes) February 20, 2015

Of course, Andy, who posted this is nicer than I. He left off the picture. Me? No way. The mug of DWS is sooo effing perfect as the picture of Democratic Crazy that it just SCREAMS to be a part of this uplifting little message. You can just hear her garbling another bon not.

Of course, the Koch brothers did it. They have such powerful right-wing juju that they get you coming AND going. If the poor widdle Democrats hadn't attacked them, they would have pulled off their stealth wins. But because they did attack them, they pulled of their stealth wins. HAHAHA! The sweeping losses at the midterms had NOTHING to do with the IRS targeting, the NSA spying, the disastrous Obamacare rollout, the shitty economy and invisible recovery, the insane debt and defiant spending, the Arab Spring, Benghazi, the government shutdown...I could go on.

No. No, those things are completely unimportant and did not affect the outcome at all. It was the Koch brothers. They are some powerful magic.

I love Democrats best when they are left struggling to explain why everyone hates them.

Good morning, kittens.

The Unwanted Sword

‘Tis thus a wicked century begins—

With slaughtered innocents—like all the rest,

And God is mocked by pious, bloody sins

The blasphemy of thinking murder blest.

Our people cry for peace—they bring us war.

We long for love—they bring us death and hate.

So we appeal, as we have done before,

To let the Lord of Battles choose our fate.

The way ahead is hard and long and bleak,

The sword is thrust, unwanted, in our hand.

But for our murdered children we must seek

To extirpate this terror from our land.

A grim and angry nation counts the toll,

And bids our waiting legions now, “Let’s Roll.”


Robert A. Hall

Former SSgt, USMC

#JobsForISIS

#JobsForISIS Your new pool boys. pic.twitter.com/SZzrYIoEYA
— Buttercup (@ButtercupWisdom) February 19, 2015

#JobForISIS Beauticians? pic.twitter.com/KuZz8n8d43
— Buttercup (@ButtercupWisdom) February 19, 2015

Because this...

Apparently a good jobs program is the answer.

So a good jobs program is Obama's secret to fighting ISIS? Great. He can't even put Americans back to work. How the hell is he going to get these goat-humpers jobs?

But, as much as it feels like we're all laughing as the world burns, it's been pretty funny over on Twitter today. I was supposed to be finalizing ads and working on a new label...but I barely made it out of Twitterland to make a deadline on a few things. Oh well...tomorrow is another day.

But today, the Twitterverse was AFLAME with snark about the rank stupidity of the Obama administration. Frankly, I don't think they're that stupid. I think they are that smug. They can't see the danger when they are so certain that their superior intelligence and understanding will win the day.

O. M. F. G.

So here are some of the better pics of the day.

SooperMexican

Selling handmade pillow covers on Etsy (Iowahawk)

It's only funny in an apocalyptic kind of way.

"I would unleash the wardogs of hell on those bastards."

I am in complete agreement, Joe Dan. And my "wardogs" would be shiny, shiny nukes. Who cares if the area is uninhabitable for a decade or so? Who's ever going to live there with these jokers in charge? Might as well nuke the living shit out of it now so that things can start healing.

And if I was an innocent caught in this whole mess, I would STILL pray that the nukes would come. So much better to die in the fight against evil than to simply be brutally lost to it...dying because evil is unchecked.

An Evening of Fine Dining

Farm Boy and I went to a "special" dinner the other evening. The dinner was held in a woman's home where she has installed a professional kitchen and turned a large room into a dining space squeezed to the very limits of cozy with five tables. To avoid all the regulations, requirements, licensing, and inspections that are necessary to open an actual restaurant in California, the owner hit on the idea that she would merely invite "friends" into her home for a lovely meal. You must be a member, which is a $1.00 fee, so perhaps setting it up as a private club also helps her avoid legal crap. All monies for the cost of the meal and drinks are considered "donations." Then, once or twice a month, she holds dinners on the Friday and Saturday of a particular weekend, seating 24 people twice in one evening. She posts the menu and features the chef on her website, and sends out email invitations to members. Sounded interesting to me! What we didn't know until we arrived and were seated was this terrific idea also entailed a signed paper from each guest that if we died of food poisoning, etc., we could not hold her or the kitchen responsible.

Despite the rather unsettling thought that my signature on that paper could actually prove necessary, the idea of running a restaurant without rules was intriguing and appealed to my renegade "fuck the government" nature, so I signed away my rights -- or signed my own death certificate, depending on how this meal would turn out - and decided to make the best of it. I really wanted it to be fabulous and memorable; Farm Boy just wanted to survive after I forged his signature.

C'est la vie. Bon appetit!

Well, we didn't die, but it wasn't memorable. It was thoroughly disappointing, to be truthful. I will admit right now that I am not that easy to impress with food, but I am also fairly accepting of that fact and manage to find something pleasant about almost anything I order in a restaurant. In other words, I may rarely roll my eyes, gasp in delight and savor every mouthful, but I generally can enjoy any meal as perfectly serviceable. This wasn't even that. But we didn't die, which is what Farm Boy likes to point out every time I bitch about what a disappointment it was.

Part of the reason for my serious criticism of this place is that it is a fabulous business model from a profit standpoint, and from a chef's standpoint -- so it was even more disappointing that it was done so poorly. Each meal is completely set by the chef who then has the luxury of preparing a menu exactly as they see the courses building on each other. There is absolutely no waste and the kitchen can be run like a catering operation. There are only two seatings a night. Easy peesy. I could run a restaurant like that. Basically, they are catering two identical parties for 24 on the same night. Obviously much of the preparation and cooking can be done ahead of time. The cost was waaaaay overpriced because every course was teeny weeny, the pours of wine were ridiculously small, and so, by my conservative calculations, they were making out like bandits! Shit! Even the napkins were no more than 5 inches by 4 inches big. Cover your dress? Yeah? Fuck you...we don't follow no stinking rules. Well, okay then. How about plates? Another big finger. Our first course, an antipasto course, was served on little wooden cutting blocks with legs, so your food was perched 8 inches above the table and threatened to roll off every time you attempted to pick up a bite. This

The infamous chopping blocks. You thought I was kidding.

necessitated that everyone at our table of six, Farm Boy, myself, and four strangers, all self-consciously fixate on their chopping blocks like children allowed to sit at the grownups table for the first time, carefully poised over the precariously perched food, praying they weren't going to be the one who saw an olive roll off the high, flat surface and bounce gaily to the table or floor. We did see one plate halfway through the meal, for our fish course, but it left and never returned. The main course was a bite of pork over polenta served in a tiny little bowl, and imagine my delight when the chopping blocks showed up again for dessert! Even better, this time the chopping blocks, holding two utterly flat, tough, chewy chocolate cookies sandwiching a fallen whipped cream filling, were accompanied by little itty bitty glasses which contained a chocolate sauce. It tasted just like Jello pudding. I. Kid. You. Not. Of course, that's if you could manage to taste it. Honest to God, half of the people at our table, Farm Boy included, had been left with cream soup spoons which were simply too big to fit into the teensy tiny little precious glasses. This predicament, coming as it did at the end of a rather exhausting struggle masquerading as a dinner without nearly enough wine, did not delight Farm Boy one bit. Tossing his spoon to the side, he stuck his finger into the gooey pudding/sauce and scooped it out to suck it off with the relish of a kid working a Jello pudding cup. You are not keeping Farm Boy away from dessert, even shitty Jello pudding dessert.

So fuck you. We don't follow rules either.

The only saving grace about the meal was that the other two couples at our table were fascinating and I enjoyed probing them with questions about their lives. Meeting strangers is one of my favorite things because I find I really like just about everyone for about the first two hours; after that it gets dicey. Farm Boy knows this and thanked me as we walked to our car for not bringing up politics. One of the gentlemen had come from Boston, gone to Harvard, even had a grandfather who had been a professor there. This, among other things, stamped him a crazy ass liberal. 

And I said nary a word. Butter wouldn't have melted in my mouth. If there had been any. An entire meal...and not a pat of butter.

Don't get me started.....

So here is a recipe that will make you gasp in delight. Promise.

GRILLED VEAL CHOPS WITH LEMON-CAPER SAUCE

2 servings

Ingredients

• 4 T. extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 1/2 T. white balsamic vinegar
• 1 1/2 T. drained capers
• 1 1/2 T. chopped fresh Italian parsley
• 1 1/4 tsp. finely grated lemon peel
• Juice from one lemon, add according to your taste
• 1 garlic clove, minced

• 2 8 to 9 oz veal rib chops
• Salt and pepper

Instructions

Whisk 3 tablespoons olive oil with next six ingredients. Season sauce to taste with salt and pepper. Set aside.

Prepare barbeque grill. Brush veal chops with remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Grill to desired doneness. Medium rare is best.

Serve with sauce.

This is divine accompanied by small, roasted potatoes, cut in half and tossed with some oil, butter, fresh thyme, and garlic. Start these ahead as they take about 30 minutes in a 450 degree oven. Sauteed green beans or wilted kale would be lovely as a vegetable.

Accompany with a glorious pink champagne.

Nice ring.

This is so true, it hardly needs to be pointed out.

Carnitas, anyone?

I love Texas.

Pig problem? What pig problem?

Brian Williams defended by Dan Rather and Geraldo Rivera. Does it get any better?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Sometimes life is so perfectly flawless that you just have to sit back and shake your head at the sheer wonder of it. God really is in charge.

Brian "Mad Max" Williams is now being defended by Dan "Fake But Accurate" Rather, and Geraldo "Even Bette Midler Says You Suck" Rivera.

I am SCREAMING with laughter. This is the funniest line-up one could imagine.

Steve Stockman, the congressman from Texas who could easily be a comedy writer if he decides to ditch the swamps of Washington, wrote:

Dan Rather has a memo that completely validates Brian Williams' story.

I have only one thing left to say to Mr. Williams, NBC in particular, and the entire MSM in general:

And just because I'm not that nice...here's a little something to leave you gagging...

Geraldo's Twitter selfie.

Now run and get some eye bleach.

I'm sorry.

Brian Williams misremembers being badass dude in the midst of war instead of actually being canape-eating asshole in an apartment on the Upper East Side

PTSD - Pussy Twit Surviving Delusions

What is it with liberals? It isn't just that they lie. People lie, no matter what their political stripe. But most people lie to not get caught with their hand in the cookie jar, so to speak. The typical lie is to avoid negative consequences. But liberals seem to have a curious propensity to lie, not about what they've done, but about what they HAVEN'T done. They lie about how grand and brave and heroic and compassionate and just all round awesome they are. And they lie about shit that is so easily exposed that it's as if they actually believe they are above the truth.

Wait a minute....Oooooooh....heeeelllloooo!

Above the truth. Yes, indeed.

Above the truth. Above facts. Above reality. And why not? Because they see themselves as the ones who create reality.

That's it, kittens. Liberals, especially powerful ones, see themselves as not just exempt from truth and facts having any meaning, they see themselves as the architects who create the truth, construct the facts, and then feed reality to you, Mr. Mouth-breather, Mr. Gun-hugger, Mr. High-horse-riding Christian Bigot. YOU idiots don't need the truth. YOU idiots wouldn't know what to do with it if Mr. Williams had slapped you around with it like the bull in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.  YOU idiots need to be constantly chided, guided, and railroaded into seeing things the way Mr. Williams sees them. For Brian Williams and NBC, the mission was never about some objective "truth"; the mission was to show you how dangerous Bush's war was, or how disastrous Bush's Katrina was. Bullets flying, helicopters crashing, bloated bodies floating by...all the tragic, horrifying results of what a fucking mess Bush's policies were. And if his facts also happened to include his own heroic, nearly super human awesomeness, then...well...that's just the necessary framing of a very necessary truth.

Mr. Williams had to assume the mantel of hero for your own good. It was necessary to sell the reality he wanted you to believe.

And forgive me for cynically pointing out how, as soon as Obama took the reins, Mr. Williams no longer felt it necessary to continue his super human exploits. The horrors of war were suddenly not something he wanted to get you idiots' pants in a bunch over. That might be politically difficult for The Beloved and his scheduled golf games, his constant fund-raising, and his empty speechifying. So he dutifully put away his Bowie knife and his sub-machine gun, tucked away his grenades and hung up his ripped, sweaty headband, and got back to eating those lovely little canapes and sipping champagne.

But don't worry, kittens. Mr. Williams, as well as Hillary "Landing in a storm of bullets" Clinton, and John "Magic Hat and Secret Missions into Enemy Territory" Kerry are ready, willing and able to leap into battle and once again tackle the furies of war and storms and 3:00am calls if a Republican candidate EVER gets anywhere NEAR the White House.

Rest assured.

They're on it.

Maybe This Should Just Be A Funny Blog...

One of the main reasons that I post so infrequently is that I am exhausted by the immovable nature of our political system. It simply doesn't matter what we do...nothing changes. This is because no one in Washington WANTS anything to change. It is political theater, everyday, and to think otherwise is naive and depressingly futile. And I haven't been accused of being naive for 30 years...and I'm tired of being depressed and feeling like nothing anyone is doing matters. I just want someone to take my little drum set and go beat it all they want. I am tired of the whole mess. When the shooting starts, I'll get back in the game. Until then, my mind has started wandering.....

The other day I saw a bumper sticker that said:

And I LOL'ed over that for days.

Then I saw this and it made me giggle all over again.

God! I wish I had both of those as bumper stickers.

Then, to take it in another direction entirely, this crossed my path and I have to share because it's damned funny, that's why.

HAHAHAHAHAHA!

Finally, this...or something very close to it...has actually happened to me. I have shitty friends.

So...whether I ever get the gumption back to start posting about the hideous wreck that is our political system and our corrupt-tastic government...or I descend into the bowels of bad jokes and worse taste...stay tuned.

At least I'm laughing!

Awesomeness in a Small Package UPDATED BECAUSE OF GRRRRRRRRR!

GRRRRRRR! So the video has been taken down. WTF? If they don't want you to share it, then why the fuck do they have a share button???

I give up.

Here's another video of little Harry Allen charging around a course on the jump off. He's amazing. Watch while you can. Who knows when this one will disappear.

Young Harry rides like an eventer...git'er done! We all come at fences like that in stadium, and we don't even HAVE jump off rounds! We just don't see the need to slow our horses down. HAHAHA!

**************************

This little boy and his pony are some kind of awesome! The way he gallops at those fences, you'd think he was an eventer. Mark my words, everyone in the Grand Prix world will know this kid's name in 20 years. Harry Allen. Remember that. He's going to be an Olympian, you can put money on it.

Trust Me On This

Early Acupuncture

For the man who has everything...except relief...UPDATED BECAUSE I AM REMARDED.

UPDATED BECAUSE I AM REMARDED.

But we all know that, don't we, kittens? Leonard has pointed out my inexcusable eff up in the comments below and...well...of course he's right and of course I screwed up this entire post because I was too lazy to check my email for the proper link to the joke before throwing this together. See what happens when I don't write anything for so long that I feel guilty as hell and then hurry to produce something without really attending to details...or even paying attention? It all goes to shit.

If it interests you, this is how I typically tell jokes, too. Jump in...wander around forgetting the story line AND the punch line...until everyone is laughing AT me and not WITH me.

So BEHOLD! Here is the REAL instrument of torture immeasurable relief...

It's a good deal more tidy and looks much safer for rummaging around in tight quarters.

If I had taken the time to get it right, I would also have been able to cut and paste the product description, which is divine.

• 8" long silver-plated ball-scratcher
• Reaches deep into your trousers for itch 'n' scratch relief!
• In a stylish presentation box.
• Gentleman's Ball Scratcher for the busy male executive
• Handheld chrome-effect ball scratcher presented in a deluxe metal case
• Ideal for those hard-to-reach places
• In the shape of a delicate female hand
• 9-inch handle for extra reach

AAAAANDDDD I would have realized that, why yes, there are indeed a number of reviews, and they are worth reading. HAHAHAHAHAA!

What a remard!

Happy New Year. At least we can all quit worrying that I'm going to develop into anything serious, noteworthy or even remotely successful in 2015. I'm the same remard as I've always been. Reassuring...isn't it?

 ************************************

Behold!

I can still use "Behold!" because it's only a week past Christmas. My blog. My rules.

I can't even bring myself to name this. You figure it out.

There are no reviews on this handy little gadget. Go figure. But after watching enough baseball games with Farm Boy to guarantee Alzheimer's before 60, I am shocked to realize that men need a specialized tool. I thought their hand was God's invention.

Oh well.