Category Archives: Personal/Opinion

On Putin and Parenting

Well here we go again.  From all appearances it seems Donald Trump Jr just pulled off the bone-head move of the political decade and once again the resulting stink from a disjointed White House has all of us anti-Trumpers giddy with anticipation.  Surely this is finally going to motivate any  principled Republican in congress to admit enough is enough.  But I’ve learned not to get my hopes up.  In fact, hang onto your hats folks because on the horizon will be some of the most creatively entertaining political spin Conway, Spicer, and Huckabee Sanders have ever produced.  And remarkably our elected sycophants will continue to enable a man who has no business in the Oval Office.

Ooopsie!

Politics has become so polarized in this country this is where we have landed.  Wave after wave of alarming events pound the shoreline of our consciousness until rock solid principles of democracy and decency are pulverized into grains of indifference.  Instead of considering Junior’s behavior disturbing, defenders are treating it as if it was little more than a glass of spilled milk.  Just a simple mistake by a neophyte.  “Most people would take that meeting” says the President of the United States.

What in the hell have we become?  Put the idiocy and collusion surrounding this episode aside for a moment and just look at the computer hacking aspects.   What keeps getting lost every time one of these mind-bending stories surfaces is the fact there was Russian interference in our election process.  Geezuz H the country has been attacked and this administration is perfectly happy doing nothing about it.  The internet corruption that went on here is not much less frightening than the danger posed by the nut job in North Korea.  You could say what Russia managed to get away with so far is cyber sniper fire.  Besides fomenting fake stories on the internet, they hacked the election system computers in 21 states.  What’s to stop them from pushing the envelope.  It is not out of the realm of possibility that with the tapping of a few keystrokes they could accomplish the near equivalent of a nuclear missile strike- disabling a huge section of our electrical power grid.  They already have their foot in the door  Russia hacks U.S. Nuclear Power Plant  The results would be very similar to a nuclear missile attack. If you are interested in some shit-scary observation about this, read Ted Koppel’s book “Lights Out.”  

Ask the county what their number one fear is and half will say terrorism. Maybe you think it’s a stretch to say that election tampering by an adversarial foreign government is terrorism, but should all the lights go out and hospital ventilators stop functioning and gas pumps quit working, you might concede early intervention might have been helpful.   We know Russia meddled in our democratic process.  The point I am trying to make is we need to direct our  focus on the larger issue.  The reason all these investigations are going on is it is extremely important we find out if any American citizens were involved because they are either guilty of obstruction of Justice or possibly treason, or stunning and dangerous ignorance, all of which  might well serve to accelerate a more heinous foreign agenda. Robert Mueller is likely to expose Trump’s shifty business practices as well, especially if tax returns are subpoenaed, but the president has no one to blame but himself for that investigation.  A cyber war catastrophe in this country is just as likely to occur as a nuclear one.  Why so many people have chosen to regard this Russian intrusion with casual indifference is beyond me.

Most people would take that meeting?  Most people in the Trump family maybe.  Most normal people would contact the authorities.

I can not help thinking  how we have just circled back to the very beginning.  Of course before Trump got elected we had no inkling of how he would govern. Right after he became president I think the majority of us thought the guy should at least be given a chance.  That did not last long in my case.  If you are like me and have nothing better to do than sit on your ass all day, see my previous blog  https://www.asiteforsoreguys.com/gaslighting  .  As time has progressed, about the only consistent thing we are seeing from this administration is what a total clusterfuck it is.  Our democracy is certainly being put to the test.  Undoubtedly it will survive this shit-storm, but if congress is to get anything of substance accomplished its members had better pull their collective heads out of their asses and mitigate the damage.  Get a spine and tell the president he needs to quit deflecting, take responsibility, and start cooperating.  Hopefully Trump’s recent veiled threat against Robert Mueller if he investigates the president’s family business ties will raise your democratic hackles.

However, what we do know now that we knew from the very beginning of the campaign season is how bereft of moral character Donald Trump Sr. is.  Unfortunately it seems obvious what Senior considers good parenting is to make sure the polarity of Junior’s moral compass is as discharged as his is.  “It must be magic to raise children in a household where probity has no meaning.”  That’s a perfect quote from the editorial page of a Cincinnati newspaper.  What Donald Jr. did by biting on the bait offered by Rob Goldstone was reprehensibly wrong, plain and simple.  So comically ironic is the fact that Junior, in the process of defending himself on this very issue,  only made things worse by telling yet another blatant lie- on Sean Hannity’s show no less.   He can attempt to put any spin he wants on all of this, and god knows he’s been out there twirling his best, but it does not matter.  It is obvious the orange does not fall far from the tree.

I know Trump’s most entrenched supporters will believe this is acceptable behavior, that to them the end justifies any kind of means, and the staunchest congressional Republicans will keep deflecting.  But you can not defend the indefensible.  The “family values” plank of the Republican party platform was removed and shoved through a wood chipper the minute it accepted Donald Trump as its candidate.  The man always was and will continue to be a completely amoral narcissist, a whining liar, and as we are now witnessing,  an incompetent leader.  He believes his suspect values are the only proper ones and obviously those are the ones he has instilled in his children.   Every member of congress has  intrusive knowledge of this conduct on a day to day basis.  Maybe the general public has become numb to it. But congressional members have no excuse.  They are directly exposed, and by continuing to enable this president they are displaying a shameful example to their own children.

“Botched collusion is still collusion.”  Charles Krauthammer, syndicated columnist, Washington Post

“Russia is the one country that could physically destroy America,”  Steven Pifer, Former U.S. Ambassador to Ukraine

“Release your tax returns Mr. Twitterbitch,”  me and 224 million Americans.

 

 

Anniversary

I’m up on my roof.  I’m here because this is where my wife sent me.   She noticed some debris had collected between two gables and was sure I was just the one who could take care of that problem.  Between those two gables is a trapezoidal section covered with flashing and is fairly flat, so it is a natural staging area for fallen twigs and leaves to rest.  I am always hopeful  Mother Nature  will sweep them away with a succession of her bouts of stormy temper before my wife notices them.  She is a stickler for detail.  She’s not obsessive-compulsive or anything.  It’s just that there are some particular things that she feels important for appearances sake.  If the pleat of  a bed skirt is not lying flat, a throw pillow out of place, or there are dead bugs inside the opaque cover of an outdoor light fixture, it will get her attention.  And sometimes her concerns eventually mean more work for me.  Unfortunately one of those times is right now because the proper weather patterns never materialized to save me from this death-defying mission.

My work is done.  I managed to knock down all the twigs and leaves without participating  in their decent. Since the incline is minimal in this spot, I feel safe though.  Actually it’s kind of cool here.  I can stand, or I can sit down and rest my ass on the steeper part of the roof and let my mind wonder reflectively, or better yet, scan the neighborhood and mentally make fun of people I see walking around.  You get a different perspective up here.  I have a six foot fence that surrounds most of my back yard, and naturally that inhibits a lot of human interaction.  And that’s the whole point of a six foot fence really.   I don’t care to know your business, and I sure as hell don’t want you nosing around in mine.  Geez, there’s my next door neighbor strutting around without a shirt on again.  My wife hates that.  Usually there’s an accompanying  episode or two of plumber’s crack she feels she has do endure.  I keep telling her she doesn’t have to look at it. Change the channel for Pete’s sake.  But my wife was raised with a strong sense of right and wrong, and coursing  through all of it is a very elevated expectation of common decency.

Man I didn’t realize how nice the neighbor’s yard is behind me.  It used to be little more than a stark testament to what man can accomplish when he completely gives up on ambition- discarded containers and tires strewn throughout the yard, piles of dog shit on the patio, and every once in awhile the smell of a dead animal rotting away in the total concealment of weeds that were knee-high.  That new guy really got the place in shape.  Next to him lives a short, chubby guy who I have been told is an ambulance chasing  attorney and is a total asshole.  That’s the story circulating in the neighborhood anyway.  He has some great power tools though.  He’s always firing something up and waking me from my  afternoon nap. That strikes my wife as being inconsiderate.  If there is one word to describe my wife it’s considerate.  Champion of the underdog.  God don’t get her started on the plight of the Native American, unless you’re game for a rousing psychological bitch slapping.

Then right next to the attorney is-  you know I don’t know who lives there.  But next to that house live the Wamplers.  The boys are a handful and I can’t say I appreciate all the discharged bottle rockets I find in my backyard during the first week of every July.  Old man Wampler is a character though.  He is a neighborhood philosopher of sorts, likes to hand out unsolicited advice, and will surprise with a folksy saying every once in awhile.  One time when he was walking by my house we got engaged in a conversation about vacations we have taken and he made a point of emphasizing how important it was to take one by stating, “No matter what, once every year I pack up all my kids that aren’t in jail and just head out of town.”  That’s a sentiment that somehow just sticks with you.     

   Little Bobby Wampler Pictured Here the Day After Last Year’s Wampler 4th of July Celebration

Well enough of the contemplation.  It’s time to think about getting off of my roof.  Damn I forgot about this part.  At some point I have to scoot backwards to get onto my ladder.  If you think that’s easy, well eat shit.  Except for the section I was resting on, my roof is a series of 45 degree pitches.  God I hate this.  My wife would calm me down if she were up here.  I tend to get all panicky if I’m not reasonably certain of an outcome.  But my wife is forever the optimist, her cup always half full, although this Trump business is wearing on her a bit. It’s almost refreshing to hear her complain about something.  I love that woman.  Holy shit! You know what I just remembered?  It’s my wedding anniversary.

Ordinarily I’m not the romantic type.  I can safely say no one who knows me would argue that point.  I don’t mean to sound like I’m proud of it or anything.  It’s just the way I am.  I suppose I could put more effort into that factor of the relationship equation.  But through the years I’ve managed to convince my wife all  holidays are just a capitalistic scam and if we are smart we should always forgo the pretentiousness.  Basically my feeling is neither of us should have to explain ourselves.  We know how we feel.  For Pete’s sake we’ve put up with each other for 46 years so obviously we are not lacking in communications skills.

That’s me.  Is that wrong?  Right now I’m beginning to think so.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate my wife.  She is a remarkable woman. She’s thoughtful, bright, loving, generous, patient, and holy cow is she a thorough housekeeper.  Very methodical.  And organized.  How did I get so lucky.  Now I kind of feel like a dick.  I don’t know what I’d do without her.

    My Wife is a Housekeeping Wizard

Sometimes we banter about who will die first.  If that topic comes up, it’s usually because we have just reflected on the genetic background of our respective families.  Since my mother is 98 and remarkably spry, we inevitably conclude that I would be the winner.  That’s if you believe there is victory in living longer.  But in fact I would be the loser in our situation.  I have to go out first.  I can’t figure out that damn dishwasher.  And the washing machine?  Just forget about it.  All those cycles and nobs and settings.  Bunch of unnecessary  manufacturer’s  hubris if you ask me.  It might end for me in a few minutes if I and my aluminum ladder make contact with those power lines attached to my house.  With my luck though the only thing I’d take down would be the cable TV service. Then I’d be lying in bed all crippled up without any television.  That would really suck.

Shit I hate being up here.  If I make it back to earth I swear I’ll turn over a new leaf.  I’m going to hop in my car and go get my wife an anniversary card, one that is overflowing with syrupy romanticism.  And a present too.  I think she’d really enjoy a box of Swiffers.   I don’t know what they are, but she is always raving about them.

So, HAPPY ANNIVERSARY SWEATHEART!  I LOVE YOU VERY, VERY MUCH. Now please call the fire department and see if they can send someone to get me down from here.

Also, if you believe I’m up here on this roof with my lap top you’re kind of a dumb shit.  If you can’t figure out how I wrote this you’ll have to go ask someone who is a little more perceptive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Isolation Shield

     

President Trump has established a Monday morning tradition of meeting with Kellyanne Conway and Steve Bannon to review news reports from the  weekend.  This is a transcript of a tape recording from the meeting of Monday 6/5/2017 that was made unwittingly by the president when he accidentally hit “record” on the office entertainment system while he was trying to figure out how to watch a DVD he made of himself dancing.  The recording was discovered by a maintenance technician and has been subpoenaed as evidence related to the Mueller investigation.

***Sound of door opening and closing and shuffling feet***

      

TRUMP:  Good morning.

CONWAY and BANNON:  Good morning sir.

TRUMP:  What have you got for me?  I watched Fox all evening.  I wish Hannity had been on. He should be on more, like twelve hours a day.  I think Fox should think about that.  He has a great, tremendous program.  Lots of people like him.  Like, many people.

CONWAY:  That’s so true sir.  I love that guy.  Well, I channel surfed all evening and didn’t come up with much that’s new, although there was that commentary on DC channel 12.  It was on pretty late so you might have seen it after watching Fox.

TRUMP:  No. I’m tired of watching fake news.  I stuck with Fox all night.

CONWAY:  Well sir, the story was sort of a documentary, and it basically named you the most obtuse president in the entire history of the country.

TRUMP:  WOW!  The most!  Well you know I’m a winner Kellyanne.  I never lose.  Always a winner.  And it was a documentary thing.  That’s good.  Not just some reporter blowing hot air?

CONWAY:  No sir.  It was an hour long documentary.  A  lot of prestigious people contributed.  But I’m not sure you understan…

TRUMP:  Who’s my competition?  I beat out Obama, right?  I must have.

CONWAY:  Yes sir, by a mile.  But…

TRUMP:  That’s perfect.  How ’bout Washington, or Lincoln?

CONWAY:  Not even close.

TRUMP:  All right.  Things are looking up.  I don’t need any more bad news.  I just don’t want to hear any more bad news!  Bad news- NO, NO uh-uh. No more. I think we should really run with this ah, obstruse thing.  How do you suppose this got started, I mean, what put me over the top?

CONWAY:  Oh I’m pretty sure it was an accumulation of things, but my guess is it was backing out of the climate change agreement that propelled you into first place.

TRUMP;  I knew that was a good idea.  Tillerson said we should stay in, but I just knew leaving was the right thing to do.  I have a knack for calling the right shots.  Intinct, Kellyanne, instinct.  That’s what it is.  I have a natural feel for things.  I knew I was going to win the election.  I won by a lot too.  Biggest electoral win since Reagan.  It was huge.  You know that.  I might have to think about firing Tillerson. Ok.  So how can we take advantage of this.  I mean, can we do anything else to really, like, slam the door on it.  I don’t want any of those other guys sneaking up on me and  snatching this away.  Who’s the closest to me?  I know you might think I’m pushy, but I’m a competitor.  And a winner.  Always have been.

CONWAY:  Yes sir I do know that.   Well there’s Buchanan.  He kind of sat around and let the Confederacy take hold.  And Harding played poker all day while his friends plundered the U.S. Treasury.  Those two are right behind you.

TRUMP:  Buchanan and Harding.  Hmmm.  Can’t say I know much about them.  Did either of them play any golf?  I think we should watch out for Harding.  Sounds like he might have been a good deal-maker. He must have had some real loyal people on his team.  You reward people like that.  Loyalty-  very important, very important.  Just like you guys.  Loyalty is big, I mean really huge.  Actually though  it’s all that poker playing that really bothers me. You know about my casino’s.  Everyone knows it was all those ridiculous state regulations that, you know, that’s why I got out.  And look how I made out.  All those investors got stuck and I came out like a bitch.  I know what I’m doing.  It’s how I make deals.   It’s what I do. Now, the dishonest media might start some rumor that Harding would have been better at running casinos.  That just might be a problem.  I think we should come up with something to really cement this.  What do you think Steve?  Is there anything else we can come up with to make sure I hang onto this.

BANNON:  Oh sir, we’ve just got started.  I’ve got you covered, believe me.

TRUMP:  I know Steve.  I have all the confidence in the world in you.  You were right about the climate change deal.  I knew I could count on you.  Of course I was going to go down that road anyway.  I have that instinct thing-  it’s always there.  But you always watch my back.  I appreciate it.  So what ideas have you got?

BANNON:  Well there is a lot we can do on the European front.  We should probably keep pounding away at Germany- you should maybe make an announcement that anyone owning a BMW or Volkswagen has to ship it back to Germany.  And Macron could stand to be taken down a notch.  I know you think he’s a showboat anyway.

TRUMP:  Ya.  Showboat.  You got that right.  That handshake story- it’s just all fakey.  Fake news. He didn’t lock down on my hand.  I locked his hand up.  He couldn’t get away.  i had such a grip on his hand-  you can see it.  The dishonest media keeps saying what a tough guy he is. I was the one that had the tight grip, like a grip that was so strong and tremendously ah, grippy.  My grip is big league- everybody knows that.  A lot of people say I have the tightest grip like, they’ve ever seen, or ah, felt.  And you know Macron has a really old wife.  Not a ten like Malania. Or Ivanka.  That daughter of mine.  Is she hot or what?  Have you seen her in a swimsuit?  Those froggies don’t have women like we do over here.  I don’t care what they say.

CONWAY:  Melania is beautiful sir.  And of course Ivanka. She…

TRUMP:  You know you could be a ten Kellyanne.  You could!  You just get some of those breast implants- automatic ten.  That’s what it’s all about Kellyanne.  You have to have the breasts.  No tens without those.  Trust me.  Implants- you’d be a ten.

CONWAY:  You’re way too kind sir.

BANNON:  I have an idea I’ve been toying with for quite some time and I am starting to think this would really lock things up for you Mr. President.

TRUMP:  What’s that Steve?

BANNON:  Your tax returns.  Release them.

TRUMP and CONWAY:  ARE YOUR CRAZY!!

BANNON:  I know it’s a radical idea. But listen to me.  Most of the country wants you to do it.  Even half your base.  So right there you make them happy.  Then, when America gets a gander at the returns, we give it the old Trump spin and they will realize what a clever businessman you are by using Russian money to save your business, and then screwing the commies by overcharging them on real estate purchases and hiding the profits in those Cypriot banks. All of that without paying any income tax!  It’s the kind of thing your base will love you for.  And your detractors can only dream of being so financially astute. Their balls will wither from envy.  They won’t know what to do. It’s a complete win-win.  Of course we’ll have to pull Kislyak in and assure him it’s all part of the plan, but Putin knows there’s no way were going to screw him.

TRUMP:  Hmm.  Maybe your onto something there.  But I don’t know.  What about Ryan.  Say what you want, he’s been right out there hitting the dishonest media. He did a fantastic job getting it across that this government stuff is something new to me.  Release my tax records and I might lose Ryan.  I’m a smart business man.  Business.  It’s what I do. I make the best deals, the most tremendous, greatest deals.  He doesn’t understand business like I do and might think, like, I did something bad or something.  Can you believe that?  It’s business!  I have to admit this job’s been a little tougher than I thought.  But you can see I’m getting the hang of it.  I’m. like, a real smart person.  I know a lot of things.

CONWAY:  Yes sir.

BANNON:  Watching you work has been a real eye-opener sir.

TRUMP:  Thank you Steve.  But no, I think you’re wrong on this one.  It’s like a secret recipe, like Kentucky Fried Chicken.  You think Kentucky Fried wants their secret recipe out there for everyone to see.  No way Steve.  You know, I’m getting kind of hungry.

CONWAY:  Shall we take a break sir?

TRUMP;  Yes, I think we should.  I’m going to run down the hall and catch Whatshisname- have him make a McDonalds run.  You want anything?

CONWAY and BANNON:  No sir.

***Sound of shuffling feet and door opening and closing as Trump exits.***

CONWAY:  Should we keep playing him like this?  I’m starting to get nervous.

BANNON:  Kellyanne, come on!   Did you ever think it would be this easy? .  You’ve got to hang in there.  We are getting so close. We can ride the 38 percent into the next term.

CONWAY:  35 percent.  No way I was going to tell him the new number.

BANNON: OK.  35.  Still, we were sent here by them to burn the house down.  That’s the only way we can save it.   Besides, you heard him. You just admitted it yourself.  No more bad news.

CONWAY:  God I hope you know what you are doing.  Are you sure we need a wall along the Canadian border?

BANNON:  Come on.  I’ve explained this.  You said you are with me all the way.  You saw how I got him to work the solar panel conversation into the Mexican wall.  The left eats that crap up.  We just have to keep stroking him.  He loves walls.  You know that.  Strike while the iron’s hot!. We have a congress that’s nothing but a bunch of spineless jellyfish.  They are absolutely terrified of the guy.  It’s just too easy. The Isolation Shield is not just a dream now.  We have the technology and manipulative genius to keep foreigners out of the country and environmentalists out of our business- for good!  We can’t let up.

CONWAY:  I know you’re right.  What about Alaska and Hawaii though?  How are you going to extend the Shield’s electro magnetic field?

BANNON:  Hawaii could be a problem.  But most of those people aren’t true Caucasians.  Bunch of hula dancers and flaming baton twirlers.  I’ll be dropping subtle hints we should cut the whole place loose.  Revert it to Commonwealth status.  They caused nothing but problems when we introduced the travel ban anyway. That really snapped his strap.  And Alaska, are you kidding?  How many camel jockey’s are going to want to cause trouble in Alaska.  And anyone  from either state will be free to move about once they prove their white Christian status like the rest of us and have their radio frequency chip implanted.  Now remember.  The first full cabinet meeting is coming up soon.  Start spreading the word the president does not want any bad news  We want nothing but supplicant praise coming out of their mouths. And  you should get on Facebook and Twitter and start some rumors about  the turbulence from wind turbines causing cancer.  And when you have time throw something salacious out there about Harding-maybe make it look like he was involved in bestiality or something   That will make the president happy.  I’d do that one myself but I have to get cracking on getting Ginsberg off the bench.  It shouldn’t be that hard.  She’s just a sneeze away from a life-threatening pneumonia infection.  The Supreme Court and Muslim ban are within our grasp. Let’s get to work.

 

***Sound of shuffling feet, door opening and closing as Kellyanne and Steve exit***

INDEPENDENTCOMMENT:  Readers of this article should take note it might still be considered classified information.  You could face charges of treason should you share its content.  However,  keep in mind it is Mr. Bannon’s intention to let President Trump decide the insertion location of the the RF chips so mentioned above.  Legal consultants are therefore confident that any exposure to litigation will be non-existent, since a just review would most certainly reveal these actions to be an assault on human dignity,  which, many would concur, is an accurate characterization of many Trump policies as well as the man himself.  For the good of the country and protection of your loved ones, you simply must share.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Scotland Residents Concerned About Trump Impeachment Rumors

Lightbart  News report by Doug Furr

In an unusual turn of events, many Scottish communities are suddenly worried about the  impeachment rumors swirling around President Trump.  Only a short time ago the current U.S. president was recognized as the most hated man in Scotland, usurping the position from Edward Longshanks, the most despised man in Scottish history,  The infamous achievement was brought about after Mr. Trump started a smear campaign of intimidation in order to bully local residents who objected to the golf course and gaudy clubhouse he built along the beach of the coastal town of Aberdeenshire.

After a recent national poll was taken however, the president fell all the way to third place, behind the aforementioned Longshanks and Phil Oxenbauls, historically rumored to be the person who disemboweled William Wallace.  Why the sudden down surge of unpopularity?  It all has to do with the economics of Scotland.   It seems the diminishment of Mr. Trump’s unfavorable standing  correlates to the increases in sales of scotch, the third largest industry in the country.  Ever since Donald Trump became president, U.S. sales of scotch have skyrocketed.

I recently paid a visit to Brokenwinde, a peaceful lowland  hamlet situated on Scotland’s eastern shore.  There I met up with Peter McDooglestein, president and CEO of H. McMac and Company, makers of McMac scotch whiskey. The company has a long history in the alcohol production business.  Peter’s great, great grandfather, Hyman McDooglestein, was the first Rabbi to settle in Scotland, and dabbled in Kosher wine making.  The business gradually expanded to include the production of scotch, and over time their scotch developed such a prestigious reputation it was decided the company would discontinue peripheral products and concentrate solely on its single malt.

H. McMac Company employs 94 people, almost a third of Brokenwinde’s population.  A mere three months ago there were only 37 employees.  Peter McDooglestein attributes the increase in hiring and fortune to Donald Trump.  Since his inauguration, Peter said that U.S sales of McMac scotch have increased ten-fold.  “I got no understandin’ of what that fella’s s up to, but ever since he took over I ken tell ya it’s been real good for me and most of us in Brokenwinde,” he emphatically explained.  “I sure hope ye good people keep him on fer awhile.  I hear he’s made some trouble, but ye know how it is.  Live next to a pig sty and ye git used to the smell of shit after a bit.”

Mention the word “Trump” and Brokenwinde natives often respond with a traditional Scottish salute.

After a tour of his distillery, Peter took me to a local tavern, where I sampled a dram or two of McMac over lunch.  It is a fine lowland scotch, with a solid nutty flavor and just a slight, peaty aroma..  I had just finished my last drink, when another, very offensive aroma, came whiffing about.  “Don’t ye worry thar me friend,” Peter said with a grin. “That aint yer president come visitin’.  I just had the need to have a blow under me kilt.”

Having been back in the states for a couple of weeks, I have to say Peter McDooglestein is at least partly right.  A lot of people really have adjusted well to the smell coming from Washington.  Does not seem to bother them at all.  As for me, I just can’t seem to get past all the stink.  I know it’s just me.  Just my constitution I suppose.  But as one layer of shit after another piles up in the Trump White House the stench is simply becoming personally intolerable.

If you are like me and you find yourself reflexively gagging from the odor emanating from the White House, you might find my solution to the problem useful- McMac scotch. I don’t want to make any promises, but I can tell you it gets me through the day.

 

 

 

Is There Dog Shit in Heaven?

One day in high school, I think it was during my sophomore year, a group of us were sitting around shooting the breeze when the subject of immortality came up.  The conversation eventually progressed to a discussion about whether or not a dog has a soul.  You should be aware that this was a Catholic boarding school for boys, Assumption Abbey in Richardton North Dakota, run by a dedicated bunch of Benedictine monks, so I suppose a topic was more likely to stray  from the hedonistic than at a typical public high school.  I’m not saying we were any better than those publicly educated.  Or smarter. I just think for good or bad the religiously educated are  inclined to have more thoughts with a theological bend. That’s all.  Plus at the Abbey about a third of the kids were seminary students, so the odds of one being included in your conversation were pretty good.  Though they were not undisposed to interject secular subjects, their good judgment tended to tamp down those that seemed to be spiraling toward the perverse.

Two of my best friends emerged as the flag bearers of each position. George, one of those seminary students, believed a dog did indeed have a soul.  Frank, whose general conduct at the time set the standard for someone who should never be allowed near a seminary, staunchly supported the negative argument.  I was in Frank’s camp, but not because he was a particularly good debater.  In fact Frank was our close class equivalent of the West Point Goat, the cadet who graduates last in his class.   With a military cadet, there is usually a lot of luck involved (as well as a some cash- the Goat collects a dollar from every cadet as a reward for the accomplishment).  You just hope after four years you hit the sweet spot academically and still graduate.  Probably the most famous West Point Goat was George Armstrong Custer* and he was no dummy.  He was a notorious prankster and it was all his demerits that earned him last place. That’s kind of how Frank operated.  He studied enough to get by, but knew when to back off and attend properly to his many troublemaking duties.

Frank Went Out of His Way to Make Sure Freshmen Felt Included During Welcome Week

I have to say Frank held his own, but the reason I agreed with him was what I recollected from grade school.  The nuns at Holy Name taught me only humans have souls and entered heaven.  No dogs allowed.  We didn’t seem to be evolving towards any satisfactory resolution in our debate, so it was ultimately decided that we should seek the council of a higher court, the Abbey principal, Fr. Francis.  He set us straight right off.  It turns out a dog does have a soul.  The catch is it’s not an immortal soul, like ours.  Because we can reason and shit I guess our soul is a lot better.  A dog’s soul falls short of the admission requirement into heaven.

Fr. Francis was very much esteemed in our circle, so I assumed his verdict would satisfy all parties.  I can’t think of another priest that exhibited a sense of fairness and could connect with his students like Fr. Francis.  The way he connected was with the knuckles of a clenched fist, unlike Fr. David who clobbered me with a four cell flashlight.  However, Fr. Francis’s involvement aside, Frank was not about to let the matter drop.

After a few days thinking on it, Frank did concede, but then elevated the logic to a new level and concluded that yes, a dog has a soul, but it was also immortal.  He recalled a story that had somehow slipped his mind during our debate, probably because he had attended to an inordinate amount of hell raising that day.  Long story short, It seems one of Frank’s neighbors knew a fellow who ended up upside down and unconscious in a pick up truck he was driving and this guy’s dog  pulled him from the burning vehicle and gave him mouth to mouth resuscitation.  Well that seemed a little far fetched to me, but Frank says he got the story from an extremely reliable source, so from that point on Frank’s position was dogs have an immortal soul and will join us in heaven.  You have to admit if that story is true that’s a lot of uncanny human-like reasoning to omit from consideration.

To be honest with you that particular high school deliberation was never a big concern of mine then, nor has it been since, until just recently.  I like dogs, but favor those that are undomesticated.  I am particularly fond of wolves, and if it weren’t a violation of a city ordinance I might consider keeping one as a pet because that seems like a good way to get rid of the stray cats that shit in my yard.  But then I’d have to deal with wolf shit, so that’s obviously a counterproductive solution.

My son and his wife have a dog, Alfie, and we occasionally take care of him.  We have a few more boundaries we expect him to observe than his owners do, but Alfie quickly came to understand them and we get along just fine.  He is cute as the dickens but every time I take him outside to do his business I’m reminded why I don’t have a dog of my own.  I was doing just that  two weeks ago when my own opinion of the spiritual side of dogs took a turn.

We had two days of storms that left a solid sheet of ice on the ground that was a quarter inch thick.  I am normally a very careful person, but unfortunately made a rare miscalculation when I took Alfie out to download.  I slipped on a path of river rock in our back yard and about knocked myself out when my lower back smashed down on a soccer-ball sized stone.  I laid on my back disoriented, swearing and groaning in agony.   What brought me to my senses was the sensation of Alfie’s tongue hosing down my face.  He even managed to slobber all over my glasses.   In an effort to escape all the flying fluid, I slowly rolled onto my stomach, letting out another series of profanity-laced moans.  The little fellow must have sensed I needed more attention, so he addressed the situation with a saliva shampoo.

Alfie- Prostrate in Supplication

After carefully analyzing my predicament, I managed to crawl back to the house on all fours.  I took stock of things and figured I had better get to an ER.  I had concerns that I might have broken a rib, or even my hip, plus it appeared I had a compound fracture of my right ring finger.    I went to my bedroom to get a warmer jacket, and when I came back out there was Alfie lying prone in the hallway, his chin on the floor and eyes rolled upward with a forlorn look, like he was extending an apology.  He followed me around the house while I grabbed my car keys and wallet, and all the way to door.  He kept his eyes on me the entire time, checking to make sure I was all right.  And basically I was.  At least my ER visit revealed no broken bones.  My finger was just dislocated.  But when I got home three and a half hours later, there was Alfie waiting nervously by the door.

Naturally I was uncomfortable that night and couldn’t  sleep.  I thought about how Alfie had reacted, and remembered the dog story Frank had told me long ago.  It dawned on me that more than likely that dog had not really administered CPR.  The guy the dog saved was probably forced back into consciousness out of fear of drowning in all the saliva.  Mystery solved!  And yes like Frank, I am now a firm believer there will be dogs in heaven, if they are anything like Alfie.  HIs soul must be immortal. My guess is God has some type of heavenly reward in store for an animal with that kind of human-like intuition and empathy.

However, if there is an afterlife, I don’t want to spend it cleaning up a bunch of dog shit.  And I am pretty sure if you see me doing that, I’m in trouble.  God must have determined I didn’t make the heavenly cut.   And by extension, neither did you or all those dogs you see me following around.

*Coincidentally, an Abbey graduate (class of 1962) achieved West Point Goat honors, and like Custer, died on the battlefield (Vietnam).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why Bad Things Happen to Good People and Other Christmas Thoughts

The other day some dirty bastard stole the lid off my garbage can. Damn it that pisses me off.  It was the lid to my super good can too, one of those that Rubbermaid makes appropriately labeled “Brute.”  That thing is indestructible.  It’s my secondary can though because it’s a little heavy.  Our primary can is constructed of light gauge plastic.  It can’t take the pummeling from my garbage men like the Brute can, but it’s easier to take to the curb.  Not that I need that accommodation.  It’s a consideration I have for my wife.  I’m not a dick and make my wife haul out the garbage cans.   I always do that.  Sometimes she tries to look busy by fiddle-farting around with the recyclables, but I’m the one that does the heavy lifting.  But I worry that someday I won’t make it back from my mountain hike after a boulder pins my arm against the side of the narrow canyon I was walking through, and she’ll have to move the trash cans around.  I like to think ahead.

So I had to set both trash cans out for pick up because we had extra garbage that week.  There is a 50 pound limit per can, and if you overshoot, the garbage collectors can tell real quick.  It comes natural after you lift something heavy on a regular basis.  Then they take it out on your garbage can and fuck it up real good.  I bought one of those fancy cans with wheels once.  Not a month went by when one of the traveling sanitation experts gave it a good toss and shattered a wheel.  That kind of pissed me off because I had taken some extra time to re-distribute some really stinky garbage between the two cans so neither would exceed the 50 pound limit. I suppose the dead squirrel I stuck on top could have set him off.  I probably should have bagged it up and dusted off some of the maggots.  Those make a nice treat for the birds.

Good view of some nice-looking Maggots

Well anyway I walked up and down the street, thinking maybe a gust of wind had come up and carried away my lid,  That is not an unnatural occurrence, but such was not the case this time.  I have a neighbor that’s kind of shifty and thought maybe he stole my lid, but that notion turned out to be a dead end.

I don’t need to tell you an unnatural rage was boiling inside of me at the thought of having to spend money on a new heavy duty trash can when all I needed was a new lid.  I got a little depressed and started thinking what a shitty deal that was and how fucked up the world is.  My mind began to wander into dark places.  I started to imagine all the cruel ways I could get even with the scummy son of a bitch that stole my trash can lid if I ever caught him.  My favorite involved a butane torch and a high torque electric drill.  I even waxed philosophic, pondering that great existential question “Why do bad things happen to good people?”   Most everyone in my neighborhood think I’m a pretty decent guy. OK there was that one time I told my neighbor on the back side of my fence to go fuck himself.  But who wouldn’t be upset when someone sprays weed killer that drifts over to your property and kills all your garden radishes.  In the end he saw I was right and apologized, so I’m pretty sure even he would agree anyone who steels a thrash can lid is a smelly piece of shit.

So I thought real hard about why bad things happen to good people, and it really didn’t take me long to figure that out.  The reason bad things happen to good people is there are too many assholes walking around that do bad things like steal your trash can lid.  The sooner we get rid of them the better.  Problem solved.

I didn’t recall ever seeing lids sold separately anywhere, but I was confident if such a thing was available it would be at my favorite hardware store.  It’s a Westlake Ace store about a mile from my house.  You may have read about it in Plumbing and Stuff.  Neither the owner, Mr. Jimmy, or Roxy, the most helpful hardware store employee ever, was there, so I had to settle for Fred and it turned out they were out of Brute trash cans but he was not aware that the lids were sold separately anyway.  Well naturally that just enforced my thinking about all the injustice in the world and I headed off to Home Depot and then Sears because they  were right on my way to my favorite liquor store.

Both of those places had Brutes, but they wouldn’t sell me a lid separately.  They cited their one can /one lid policy and it had to do with inventory control and their precious scanning guns and all that shit I really didn’t want to hear about.  Well I was just getting more worked up about the whole thing after that.  Lowe’s was right on my way home so just for the heck of it I stopped in.  Plenty of Brutes and lids there of course, but there weren’t any bar codes on the lids so I was pretty sure I was out of luck.  But I ran into Roger, or rather he ran into me with the forklift he was driving.  I guess you could say it was my fault since I snuck under the “Isle Closed” tape that spanned that isle, but god damn it I get tired of that.  Every time I go to Lowe’s they’re dicking around right in the place I need to get to.

Roger jumped off his fork lift and said he was real sorry and all that.  He had run over my foot, and it really did kind of hurt, but I was pretty much concentrating on my lid problem right then.  I explained how shitty my day was going, so he shuffled through the Brute lids and because there was no bar code on any of them, at first he said there wasn’t anything he could do.  But then after he noticed me limping around he had a change of heart and told me to just take one.  He even escorted me to the exit door.  Do you believe it?  Didn’t cost me a dime!  I don’t have a picture of Roger but he looks something like this, only he had clothes on at the time and isn’t this white.

Roger Driving His Fork Lift

But on the way home I was struck by the second half of that existential equation- “Why do good things happen to bad people?”  Obviously what had happened to me at Lowe’s was definitely a really good thing.  The odds of running into a clerk that is remotely helpful,  let alone a nice guy, are slim in the first place.  But a nice guy that is willing to go the extra mile and risk unemployment just to make me happy?  Those are long odds my friend.  So was I a bad person because something good had happened to me?  As I have pointed out there is a variety of corroborators  who will vouch for me if I slip them a Hamilton.  I have always believed I am a good person, but suddenly I was doubting myself.

By the time I got home I had that conundrum all  tidied up.  The guy that gave me my trash can lid ran over my foot too. I think I’ll lose a nail.  So good to bad- that was a wash, and then of course there was the really bad deal of the stolen trash can lid that started this whole thing.  Like always, if I think on something long enough it starts to make sense.  That was two bad things to one good thing. That is pretty much the exact ratio of how things work out for me.  If you do that math right, you have to conclude I’m nothing short of a good person.

A lot of us get this whole business of good and bad happening in the world all complicated by throwing God into the mix.  But for that you have to believe there is such a thing, and if you take a look around you have to wonder about that.  A lot of bad shit happens, and it’s not just an occasional circumstance.  Right now we have Aleppo and ISIS and suicide bombings, and plane crashes, earthquakes, tornadoes and floods have been going on forever.   That’s lots of bad stuff and some of it I guess you could blame on God if He is actually up there somewhere. Or you can go the other way and say all this horrific shit just proves there is no God.  You can hardly blame a fellow if he thinks that’s a bunch of bull.  Personally if I were God I’d run things a little differently.  What is troubling is a lot of what’s bad is carried out in the name of someone’s god. That is totally fucked up.

I think what you have to do is carry on the best you can and throw in a helpful hand now and then.  My plan is to play it safe and not bet against Pascal’s Wager, and then die and see what happens.  Or not.  And if there truly is a reward that awaits, I’m not so much interested in whether its a place where we get to live it up all day drinking single malt scotch or simply experience peaceful bliss floating around on the clouds.  I just want to be there and make sure the slimy shit ball that stole my trash can lid gets the fiery compensation he deserves.  Merry Christmas!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Toxic Masculinity

I read stuff.  And every once in awhile I come across something that is so timely and pertinent that I wonder why it is news to me.  Toxic masculinity is a term that strikes me as falling into that category.  I am not sure how prevalent the term is, but for me credit is due Amanda Marcotte of Solon.com.  The abridgment of her article appears in a July edition of The Week magazine, something I read regularly.  I don’t know if she is the originator of the term.  For all I know it might actually be an official diagnosis in a  compendium of psychiatric disorders.   But my point is I heard about it and wonder why I haven’t heard about it before.

To paraphrase Ms. Marcotte’s article, toxic masculinity is a distorted form of manhood geared toward dominance and control, views women and gays as inferior, valorizes violence, and glamorizes guns.  And while toxic masculinity aspires to toughness, it is rooted in a fear of being soft, weak, emasculated.  Almost all mass killers share this fear.

This article appeared in The Week magazine shortly after Omar Mateen went berserk in Orlando.  From what I have read about him, toxic masculinity would seem to describe his psychological state, in a layman’s fashion anyway.   But there are so many examples of this exhibited by people we see every day walking around in our communities.  Take “Bluto” here for instance: http://www.rawstory.com/2016/06/go-fcking-make-my-tortilla-unhinged-trump-protester-goes-batsht-insane-on-hispanic-protester/

Makes you proud to be an American.  We have all seen a guy like this at one time or another.  They love political rallies, but lots of times they are at the ball park embarrassing themselves a few rows up from you and totally ruining your day. OK.  That guy might be just an obnoxious drunk.  But he’s so unsavory you have to label him as semi-toxic at least.   The point is these guys are all over the place.  Maybe you had a confrontation with one.  Yikes!  What do you suppose the deal is with the bare chest?  You think he wants to show off his sculpted torso or his tattoos?  He might want to be careful.  He’s got two nipples hanging out there.

Here’s the thing about nipples.  I’m just postulating here, but I think my theory dove-tails nicely with masculine toxicity.   I’ve been thinking on this for several hours.   On a man nipples are confusing.  What the fuck are they doing on a guy’s chest anyway?  They don’t seem to posses any evolutionary advantage in any way.  Bluto might want to be aware not only does he have nipples, but there’s some estrogen flowing around in his chest and elsewhere. Unlike nipples, guys need estrogen- for maintaining bone mass, and believe it or not, some is needed for normal erectile function.

You suppose that female stuff could all of a sudden start surging or something and make Bluto get all girly.  I think it’s possible.  It could be a big worry for him.  I bet that’s why he is lashing out.  Maybe its not testosterone overload that’s pushing his buttons.  Raging hormones is something attributed to women as well as men. What exactly causes all the fuss is unpredictable.  I imagine we all go through a hormonal roller coaster ride now and then.   I’m just sayin’.  All the ebb and flow of different hormones probably has something to do with feelings of sexual identity.  It just makes sense.  What guy doesn’t feel a little uncomfortable watching “Brokeback Mountain”, or even “Bird Cage.”  Bluto would probably say the movies are disgusting, when possibly, deep down, he’s a little worried he just might be suppressing some underlying attraction.  My guess is it’s not muscles or tattoos Bluto wants to show off.   It’s his nipples- like so many women liked to do as a form of protest in the 60’s.  I came to appreciate the gesture  back then.  Now- not so much.  Toxic masculinity explains a lot.  Geezuz Bluto put your shirt back on and go get help.  Your insecurity is showing.

Depositphotos_35997699_s-2015

Original, more sexually secure Bluto

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or how about this guy.

You Reap What You Sow

I know. I said I would never blog about Trump ever again.  I just can’t help myself.  It’s becoming a catharsis.  I had to do this because this Glenn Beck conversation could not dovetail any tighter with my last two Trump blogs.

http://www.rawstory.com/2016/08/watch-spooky-caller-stuns-glenn-beck-by-threatening-to-go-after-trump-if-he-breaks-wall-promise/

What Donald Trump does not seem to understand is there are a lot of shit for brains people like this walking around in our gun obsessed society that consider his hateful, vitriolic rhetoric  inspiring, and of course the ironic result here is Mr. Trump’s inflammatory discourse is inflaming  at least a few of his die-hard supporters to consider reprisals against him should he not produce the promises he has so emphatically and carelessly made.

images

Working the Crowd

Most of Mr. Trump’s policies lack substance, but his most fervent supporters have to feel Trump is mind-dicking them with his immigration policy.    During the primaries he insisted he would form some kind of goon squad to round up all 11 million undocumented immigrants and send them back over the Mexican border.  Dangling that juicy worm in front of those who are fed up with politics as usual proved to be very effective bait to hook a good percentage of us.  (Yes,  include me in the group of disaffected, but not in the group that supports Trump or believes anything he says).   It appears his new campaign manager finally did what several of his primary opponents couldn’t  do and explain the folly of this totally unworkable solution.  But waffling on this was apparently what triggered the appalling rant with Glenn Beck mentioned above.  The likely reason Trump canceled  a couple of rallies during which he was to outline his immigration policy was because it suddenly dawned on him he didn’t quite think his proposal through.  During a Fox News forum he went so far as to seek the advice of the studio audience to assist him in formulating his personal immigration strategy.http://www.esquire.com/news-politics/videos/a48000/trump-immigration-hannity/  Crowdsourcing your signature campaign issue-WTF?

Trump’s second, and always his fall back immigration position, is he will build a wall, and of course have Mexico pay for it.  Both the goon squad and the wall ideas worked well in the primaries for him.  They are simplistic approaches to complex problems that might resonate with people during the ramped up rhetoric of a political rally, but fall woefully short of substantive solutions when the time is taken to logically scrutinize them.  And once again the “Trumpeter” went off on a tangent in front of an adoring crowd  bugling one of his surreptitious songs that could very well motivate some unhinged looney to shoot somebody.http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/onpolitics/2016/09/16/trump-clinton-secret-service-disarm/90523014/

It’s just this kind of trumpestuous (my word) rhetoric that could backfire (emphasis on fire) on Mr. Trump should he actually get elected.

This presidential race is turning out to be one of the most controversial in our history and it has revealed a dark side to our social fabric.  What I once thought was scar tissue covering our nation’s wound of racism and bigotry has turned out to be a thick scab that has been ripped away and has disturbingly exposed a festering cyst of intolerance and narrow-mindedness.  Surely we are better than this.  Both candidates leave a lot to to be desired.  But one of them almost proudly presents himself as representing everything reprehensible to anyone who believes in this country’s principles of democracy and, even worse in my opinion, conducts himself in ways that are aberrant to normal social behavior.

Like never before, most of us will be voting against a candidate rather than for one, or voting for a third party candidate because we understandably believe neither of the major party candidates are worthy of the office, or, sadly, so fed up we won’t vote at all.  I caution you to chose your poison wisely.  There is at present a very good chance that somehow the electoral process will uncannily align in a way that allows Donald Trump to become the next president of the United States.  Think carefully about what could happen should this occur.  The man exhibits almost every clinical marker of a sociopath and as we have seen time after time during this campaign, has anger issues that are dangerously problematic.

When this thing is all over, I am curious to see what the loser has to say.  Social discourse in this country has plummeted to such a low point that it would not surprise me at all if  the common courtesy of a congratulatory phone call is not extended.  All of us should be better than this.  We must be better than this.

Quake State

It was about seven in the morning this Sunday when my house started shaking.  I knew what it was, because I’d experienced the seismic wave of a far away earthquake once before.  That was when I was a kid in 1959, when a huge quake occurred in Yellowstone National Park and the shock shook my parents house in Sheridan WY 250 miles away.  But even though I was not confused about that ten second earth-spasming event, I was still alarmed.  I have a nice home.  I started to imagine the worse, something I do kind of regularly, but not in the way you might think.  I don’t consider myself to be a pessimist.  I simply like to analyze stuff and think ahead, something I took away from Boys Scouts long ago.  Be prepared.  Like, I just filled in a cavity in a small retaining wall in my back yard that a den of snakes was living it up in, and now I bet the timbers shifted around enough so those damn snakes will just make themselves at home back there once again.  Or worse, what if somewhere a coupling on my natural gas line got loosened up and my house exploded.  I guess at least that would take care of my fucking snake problem.

But here’s the thing.  Yellowstone is a natural hotbed of seismic activity.  There are thousands of earthquakes happening there every day.  They are very natural phenomena.  Takes a lot of pressure off the hydrothermal plumbing.  Sunday’s quake was not a natural phenomenon. The center of that thing was in northern Oklahoma, a good 400 miles from where I live now in Omaha.  Oklahoma too, has a lot of earthquakes, fifty or so a year.  That wasn’t always the case.  Used to be a couple a year, like most places in the midwest.  What happened to Oklahoma is oil fracking.  That’s not natural at all.  The state of Oklahoma is our nation’s gold medal champion of human-induced earthquakes.

But there is a new contender emerging- North Dakota.  Part of the Bakken Oil Field lies just underneath the western soil of about a third of that state.  Bakken oil shale brought jobs and prosperity to North Dakota, and it brought a lot of misery and- fracking.  You can find hundreds of articles written about the good and the bad about North Dakota’s oil boom.  One of the best I’ve read is this one. https://placesjournal.org/article/dakota-is-everywhere/?gclid=CMqg7Lj5-M4CFQ-EaQodaAwNBQ  It is really long.  If you don’t have time  to to read it, I feel compelled to point out one thing that caught my eye.  Deep into this text is a conversation a rancher, Brenda Jorgenson, had with a  state oil regulator.  Brenda recalled a discussion the two of them had about the waste pit near the oil well on their land.  He claimed that the plastic liner- the barrier between the toxic liquid in the pit and soil- would last for 40 years.  When Ms. Jorgenson voiced concerns, the regulator’s reply was “You won’t be around after that anyway.  What do you care what happens after you’re gone.”

I love the sate of North Dakota.  I went to high school there.  In my opinion it is getting raped by big oil.  Again, just my opinion. But the bust is already occurring in a few western ND cities.  The state of North Dakota, as well as you and I, can take heart though.  There is at least one dedicated group out there trying to save us from ourselves- the Native Americans living on the Standing Rock Indian Reservation.  There is an oil pipeline under construction to carry oil from North Dakota to Illinois.  The charted path of the pipeline runs along the reservation’s northern border at some point.  Concerned about a future pipeline spill, and disruption of sacred tribal land, the people living on the reservation are protesting.  They have brought construction to a halt and it is getting a little ugly.  That’s about all you need to know, but in case you’re interested, here is more information.

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/08/27/us/north-dakota-oil-pipeline-battle-whos-fighting-and-why.html?_r=0

Well, I guess there is another thing you should know.  The pipeline as mapped is going to run under the Missouri River.  What the fuck are these oil douchebags thinking?  How catastrophic would a busted pipeline be if oil gushes into the Missouri River.  I drink that water.   It is a known fact there is little oversight of our already vast network of oil pipelines, and guess what is in all likelihood going to be consistently happening with all the fracking going on in North Dakota.  It will be Oklahoma.2.  You can bet all the shaking has the potential to wreck havoc with any kind of piece of shit pipeline.  Geezuz these guys piss me off.  To them everything is just fine because we are perfectly safe- for 40 years anyway.

italy-quake                                                    130px-IowaTipi

Non-quake Reistant Structure                                                          Quake Resistant Structure

Trophy Wife

Well my trophy wife is at it again.  She got another award, and she is retired!  I never received an award of any kind when I was working, let alone since retirement. I have caught a trophy fish or two, as you can see from this photo, Fishermanbut I never received any kind of award for it or anything.   But my wife just keeps piling up the awards. While she was working she received an Outstanding Teacher Award from the YWCA, an A+ Award from Omaha Public Schools, and was a recipient of an Alice Buffet Outstanding Teacher award.  That one was especially sweet, because it’s funded by Alice Buffet’s nephew Warren, and as you might have guessed, a sizable amount of cash went along with it.  Plus 500 one dollar McDonalds coupons.  No shit.  Granted a person can only stand to eat at McDonalds for so long.  But you start handing the coupons out to neighborhood kids and they think you’re a nice guy.  Then they won’t egg your house at Halloween.  So the coupons worked out well that way.  These are just the majors.  There are all sorts of school and personal citations and conferments she’s wracked up.  If you think I can name them all you have your head up your ass.

But just in the past two months, she picked up not one, but two more awards.  Remember, she’s retired!  First she got a call from her alma mater, College of St. Mary, informing her she  won a special alumna achievement award.  Then  last week she got a letter from the Nebraska Art Teacher’s Association to let her know she is the recipient of the very prestigious Roscoe Shields Service Award.  Geezuz it never ends.

winner    LEFT:  My Wife with One of Her Trophy’s

For the record I did come real close to scoring an Employee of the Month Award when I was working for Target.  But then along came Fred, the logistics exec and an unequivocal prick.  He started lobbying for Bambi, a member of his logistical team and who also had a part time job as a pole dancer at a strip club about two blocks down the street.  The word is Fred applied what some would say was undue pressure on his subordinates, and thus I came up a few votes short.  I never thought Bambi was the corporate type, and in my mind she was totally undeserving of the award.  Sure, I have to admit there were some things on the company ship I could never get on board with, but at least I never told any of my supervisors to go fuck themselves, which I heard through the grapevine is something Bambi suggested Fred should consider attempting on a number of occasions.  Fred always chose to overlook Bambi’s outbursts though, probably because he chose to underlook the big boner he got anytime Bambi would happen to toss attention of any kind his way.

I believe my opinion of Bambi was ultimately validated, because less than a week after receiving her award she disappeared.   I can’t say for sure if that award went to her head or anything, but I heard from a pretty credible source it’s what motivated her to leave town for Vegas where she felt she could apply her talent to more poles, emotionally crushing Fred’s balls in the process.  The  end result was substantiation of a fundamental yet casually dismissed principle of life:   Big boners often interfere with logical thinking and have a way of impeding real progress.

Unknown-1    Except for some recognition from an infatuated supervisor, Bambi worked here in relative obscurity

wmfokabdz1tpg9id3rmn   This is the facility where Bambi labored tirelessly to become a real crowd pleaser

My personal trophy case might be empty, but there is no doubt in my mind that the moral revealed in Fred’s story is something you can take to the bank.

Oh my gosh you know what I just remembered? I should have got some kind of award for saving that woman’s life. They hand out awards to people who saved someone’s life all the time. I never got one. How come?