Tuesday, December 25, 2012

Merry Christmas...In Spite Of Everything

I have no real pithy or brilliant comments this Christmas morning.

My family is together and healthy and in a warm and peaceful place.

For now, I am employed and able to provide their basic needs.

I could ask for nothing more.

I am thankful, but I wish my father was still around.

I miss him.

The Currier and Ives image above always reminds me of the Christmases of my youth and the care-free, home full of love he and Mom provided.

I hope that my wife and I have been able to provide the same to our children.

Merry Christmas.

Friday, December 21, 2012

A Heart-Warming Yuletide Father/Son Talk

I had to take Number Two Son to high school today because his morning vocational classes were cancelled due to winter weather.

He is a cool kid.

He is handsome and smart and athletic and popular with the ladies.

In other words, he is nothing like me.

I don’t know where he gets it.

I need to have a talk with my wife.


Anyhoo…yesterday, apparently, his vocational school was put on “lock-down” because a business across the street was armed-robbed.

I said, “Cool!  How did that go?  Were you waiting for a disgruntled, short-dicked psychopath to hose down the school with an evil AR15?”

Number Two Son said, “It was funny.  Earlier in the day we had a lock-down practice, and then later in the day we had a lock-down for real.”

He went on:  “They had us shut off all the lights and computer monitors, lock the doors, and hide under our desks.”

I said sarcastically, “Oh really?  Wait for the bullet like a helpless lamb and do nothing?  How’s about bum-rush the motherfucker and stab him in the neck with a pencil?  Or throw computer monitors at him?  Anything but sit there and wait to die like an asshole…”

Number Two Son:  “Yeah…Coach…(swim team coach and West Point/Army veteran, deer hunter, gun freak)…said we should assault through the ambush!”

I remarked, “Yep.  Coach is exactly right…and he would know.  Gang tackle the bastard and fuck him up something proper.”

At about that time, we arrived at his school, said our good-byes, and parted company.

It is this kind of intimate father/son moment that really brings a tear to the eye.

Touching, isn’t it?

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Bringing Back An Oldie But A Goodie

Now's as good a time as any to bring this motherfucker back.

Click on it and save it.  

It should be big enough that you can print it and it will look good, then plaster it all over the place.

Churches, schools, shopping malls...whatever.


Sunday, December 16, 2012

Vigilance And A Duty To Protect

Michael Savage was right.
(ETA:  He's wrong about a lot of other shit, though...like drum magazines and "assault weapons.")

Liberalism/progressivism is a mental disorder.

The gore had not even started to coagulate in Connecticut, and every Commie-lib from President O’Vomit on down gnashed their collective teeth and wailed about new gun restrictions and “doing everything possible to prevent such evil from happening again.”

These motherfuckers live in a fantasy world.

Is the nation awash in guns?

Fuck yes it is, and there’s nothing that will ever make those guns go away.

It is a statistical impossibility to rid this nation of firearms.

Most gun owners won’t give them up anyway.

Ain’t gonna happen, and there will be a big-ass fight if it is attempted.

But the Commie-Lib doesn’t understand this.

The Commie-Lib believes there are two resolutions to the mass-shootings problem:

-Confiscate all guns.  Stricter gun control.

-Build an impromptu display of Mylar balloons, teddy bears, artificial flowers, and over-sized sympathy cards at the scene of the crime.  Light candles.  Cry.  Hold hands.  Hope this evil never happens again.


Hope in one hand.  Shit in the other.  See which hand fills up faster.

Evil will happen whether we want it to or not, and the only thing that would have stopped this satanic cocksucker from hosing down that elementary school would have been a strong and righteous man or woman armed.


At the scene.


End of fucking story.

The cops can’t be everywhere at once, and if you think they exist for the purpose of protecting you and yours, you are a delusional fuck.

As I, and countless others, have said before…most times Johnny Law shows up after the smoke has dissipated…just in time to string up the pretty yellow tape and draw chalk lines around the innocent victims.

with apologies to Norman Rockwell

So what’s it gonna be, America?

Are you gonna wait around for Occifer Friendly to stop the carnage? 

He will be late to the party.

Meanwhile, the body count is rising. 

You’d better shit a decision. 

What the fuck are you gonna do?

I sure as fuck know what I’d do, and it’s not sit around afterwards with my thumb up my ass and cry and sing Kumbayah.

Am I pissed off?

Gawdamn right I am.

Why am I pissed off?

Maybe it’s because the most innocent amongst us are unprotected from evil, and an inanimate object takes the blame.

An inanimate object, which in righteous hands, could have prevented this evil.

An inanimate object which has been regulated to the point that it cannot be legally used by the righteous to protect those most innocent amongst us.

I’m just a dumb truck driver, and I’m probably not expressing myself clearly, but it all doesn’t make sense to me.

Everything is ass-backwards.

Why does evil happen?

Ritalin?  Video games?  Broken homes?  Public education?  Lack of religion?  Hollywood?

I’ll be dipped in shit and rolled in crackers if I know, and I really don’t give a fuck as to why…

What I do know is that we cannot sit on our ass and let it happen.

Nor can we be denied the use of the tools to prevent it.

Merry fucking Christmas.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Remembering My Grandfather And His Brother On This Pearl Harbor Day

The first two photos are of my Grandfather who left a wife and young daughter (my mother) behind and served as a US Navy SeaBee in the Aleutian Islands.

The last photo of the sailor with the Springfield 03 is his brother, my Godfather.

I never met my Grandfather.  He died before I was born.

Much to my shame, I did not stay in contact with my Godfather, who is long gone also.

I have often wondered what these two gents would think today about the country they served way back then...

Knowing a little bit about both men from family stories, I'm pretty sure they would be saddened and disgusted.