The Secret Life of Todd

"Young man! Another Mai Tai, please."

He knew he would never drink it but the girl would and it helped to convey the "tourist" look. He was wearing plaid bermuda shorts, a loud, flowery shirt and a floppy cowboy hat and mirrored sunglasses. His flowing blond hair was tucked into the hat. The oversize shirt helped hide his muscular frame and the comfortably concealed AMT .380 in his waistband. The girl wore considerably less and yet was still appropriate for the Brazilian beach.

"Tot, oh, Tot...", said the girl.

"It's Todd. Todd." he said.

Her language was as beautiful as she was but she had trouble with words ending in "d".

"Yes, Tot. Please to rub more lotion on my back. Don't want burn." She turned her already bronze back toward him and scooted closer between his legs on the chaise lounge and pulled her long black hair over one shoulder expectantly. Todd was looking over that shoulder and not paying attention to the leggy native. His attention was focused on the man with the briefcase walking casually in their direction down the beach. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt on the beach and carrying a small, plastic briefcase, all of which made him stand out to Todd's trained blue eyes. He was looking nervously around but trying to act casual.

When he got to what Todd estimated to be twenty feet away he set the briefcase on the sand.

"Hold your ears", Todd told the girl.

"What?"

"Put your fingers in your ears, quick!"

By the time she had reluctantly put her fingers to her ears Todd had pulled the .380 from his waistband and sighted in the man's thoracic cavity at the same time the man pulled a large-frame revolver from the briefcase and was bringing it up with both hands toward Todd and the girl.

Shots rang out across the sand.

"Yap, yap, yap" said Dori. "Yappity yap, yap."

The dog was looking up at Todd expressing her desire to get back in the car. The other two dogs were also ready to go and standing by the car patiently. Todd realized where he was and walked toward the car, his feet dripping from the Lake Worth water. He glanced back over his shoulder at the sun going down over the small beach area but continued toward the car.

All four hopped in. Todd slowly eased the car out of the park toward the street.

"Bo, get back. I can't see. Sarah, you ok? Dori, don't roll the window down, baby. Good girl. Good girl."

Open Carry

My Dad sent me his thoughts on Open Carry. I concur on everything except Miss Kitty. I think she's hot.

Why I am Against the Open Carry Law
I have my license to carry a handgun. However, I object to the Open Carry Bill.
I carry a pistol almost everywhere I go but I am very much against an open carry law. I have a license to carry, but do not want everyone to know that I am armed. Why? Here are some reasons:
1. Some of my Christian friends would argue that I should not carry a gun. I am a Christian but I am not a pacifists. I will defend myself, or others, if necessary. However, I do not want to openly carry a gun and get in arguments about why I carry it. I simply do not want to have to defend my position for carrying a gun with just anyone.
2. Wearing a gun openly would certainly provoke questions and a lively discussion. I do not want to use my firearm as a topic of conversation. I do not know a lot about guns and would rather talk about other things. There are certainly other topics to talk about other than why I carry a pistol.
3. I do not want someone to ask to see or examine my pistol. It’s too dangerous and I don’t want to have to say no to a friend.
4. I do not want some half-drunk jerk to think I am a smart aleck, or trying to be a big shot, and attempt to goad me into an argument or fight.
5. I do not want some child, mentally disturbed person, or someone strung out on drugs to come up to me and try to grab my gun.
6. I am not a law officer. I fear that someone upon seeing me wearing a gun may expect me to come to their aid when I am not qualified to help them.
7. I am fearful that if the law is changed to allow a person to openly carry a gun, that some people will use their gun as a device to bully or intimidate others, whether they ever draw the gun or not.
8. I also fear sitting with my friends in the coffee shop and a couple of armed punks come in rob everyone. If my gun is openly visible, and they decide to shoot someone, I would be the first person they will shoot.
9. It seems possible to me that if a carry bill passes that our culture could slip back into what it was in the late 1800’s. The legends of Fort Worth’s Luke Short and Jim Cartwright are fascinating but I am not longing to be a cowboy trying to get one up on the bad guy in front of the local saloon. I have no interest in Miss Kitty and I find riding a horse all day to be mighty uncomfortable.

XXXChurch

Grace?

"Grace? She passed away thirty years ago." No, not that Grace, Aunt Bethany. God's grace. I was thinking about it this morning and was thinking about how amazed I am by it especially in relation to my own sinfulness. When I realize my own "badness" it makes God's goodness even "gooder". But then I realized that God's goodness has nothing to do with my "badness" and conversely my relative goodness does not make me deserving of God's grace.

I don't understand it either.

Hello Allah!!

They never heard the shots but two Taliban machine gunners in Afghanistan felt the sweet relief of death from the hands and rifle of Craig Harrison in November 2009. According to American Rifleman and several internet sources, this British sniper set a new world record by "dispatching" two insurgents from a distance of 2,707 yards. Yes, that's over 27 football fields and yes, he made that shot twice! Two shots, two kills, two world records. And by "dispatching" I mean DRT Dead Right There. He was using an Accuracy International AWM in .338 Lapua Mag. That shot is over a mile and a half with a weapon with an effective range of about 1500 yards. Breath, squeeze, wait 6 seconds, dead guy. Breath, squeeze, wait 6 more seconds, another dead guy.

"Hello, Allah, we are ready for our 72 virgins! Hey, wait, you're not Allah..."

My week, my life

Since my life is turning into a country western song I think this one sums it up best. Not every word is appropriate but it's surprisingly close.

David, Tristan and Goliath

Sometimes even big kids can be scared and being alone seems to make it worse. David was often alone and tonight was no different. He was a shepherd and shepherds had to take their sheep to where the grass was green and tall and that often meant taking them many miles from home and family. There was no soft, comfortable bed or warm fireplace. There was no hot meal. There was only sheep and the huge night sky filled with bright stars.

Alone on the rolling hills and open prairie David often had to scare off or even kill wild animals that were threatening his flock of sheep. When a lion or bear tried to take one of the sheep he would use his slingshot to protect the sheep and himself. It was never easy and he was often scared. What if he missed? What if he hit the animal but didn't kill it? It might come after David and try to kill him and David had no one else to turn to. He knew he had to protect his flock and he knew nobody else would do it.

"God", David cried, "I'm scared! I'm not even grown and I have so much to do! What if I can't do it? What if I mess up?"

"Don't be afraid, David. I'm with you."

David always felt those words in his heart whenever he got scared. He knew God was speaking to him and it never failed to make him feel better. David often looked up into the huge, starry night sky and wondered how and why God cared for him so much. He would look around at the sheep and the goats, the grass and the trees, the huge mountains and the wide open spaces and he always felt very small. He didn't understand why the creator of everything would care about him but he knew God did care and it gave him courage every day.

"David! Hey, David!"

His father called to him early one morning.

"David, I need you to go check on your brothers. I'm worried about them. They've been in combat with the Philistines for a long time and I haven't heard from them. Go make sure they are alright."

So, David left immediately to check on his brothers. He, too, was concerned about them but he began to sing as he walked. He made up the music in his head as he went along.

"The Lord is with me. I will not be afraid. Yes, He is with me. I will not be afraid!"

He sang loud and long and soon the long trip was over. He saw the two armies lined up for battle and he ran closer until he found his brothers. Just as he was about to ask them how they were doing he heard a man from the enemy army yelling. He looked across the open field to the Philistine army and saw the man. His name was Goliath. Everybody knew Goliath. He was the biggest man David had ever seen. He was a warrior over nine feet tall with shoulders as wide as a table. His head was as big as a cows' head and not much better looking. He carried a spear and a sword and just his armor weighed more than David did.

Goliath yelled across the field at the men. He made fun of them and called them names. He said they were chickens and that even their God couldn't save them this time. David couldn't understand why nobody would challenge Goliath. Yes, he was big but he was saying horrible things. David couldn't let him continue.

David told the men around him that he would kill the giant and defend his country and their honor. The men laughed at David and told him to go back to town with the other kids and the women but David didn't listen to them. David looked again across the open field. He felt the warm breeze and saw the sun slip out from behind a cloud. Maybe this was too much. Maybe he should just go home and let somebody else fight Goliath.

"Don't be afraid, David. I'm with you."

He felt God's words again in his heart and knew what he had to do. He looked once more at Goliath. Directly behind Goliath stood four other huge Philistines and the rest of the Philistine army. They were all massive warriors but David had a plan. He found five smooth rocks laying on the ground and put four of them in his pouch. The fifth one he put into his leather slingshot and took off running toward Goliath. Goliath laughed at the young boy running his way and started walking into the field toward David.

Goliath was furious now as he saw David, just a kid, running toward him swinging a slingshot over his head. He was screaming at David, calling him names and making threats to kill him if he came any closer. David was close enough now he could see Goliath's black eyes. He could see the sweat coming down from under Goliath's huge helmet but all David could hear was the swish of his own leather slingshot whirling over his head. One end of the slingshot was tied around his wrist. He let go of the other end at just the right time just like he had done against wild animals to protect his sheep. The rock that was in the middle of the slingshot flew like lightning and hit that huge head of Goliath's right between his eyes with a thud every man on the field could hear.

David's hand reached for another rock in his pouch but it was not necessary. Dust fell on David's sandals as Goliath hit the ground in front of him. The stunned Philistines backed up several feet as David approached the big man. Without waiting, David grabbed Goliath's huge sword out of his scabbard and lifted it with both hands high over his head. The razor sharp blade reflected the sunlight across the field as both armies watched in amazed silence as David swung the weapon down and cut off Goliath's head, ending the battle for everyone.

David's eyes were wide. His heart was pounding and he realized he was sweating. He glanced first over to the Philistine army and saw them running away. He then looked toward his brothers and heard a loud shout coming from the men on his side. Still holding the sword, David saw his brothers and the other men running toward him. They ran to him and hugged him and thanked God for protecting him. They crowded around him, laughing and celebrating, congratulating David on his bravery.

In the crowd, David found his young friend, Tristan. Tristan had run with the men to congratulate David and as they all shook David's hand and patted him on the back, Tristan hugged David and told him he was glad he was alright.

"David, weren't you scared? He could have killed you!", said Tristan.

"I have to admit, Tristan, that I was a little scared at first but I remembered that the Lord is with me and I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?" David smiled at Tristan and hugged him hard. The men in the crowd around them grabbed David and put him on their shoulders and carried him back to the camp laughing and celebrating. Tristan walked with them laughing and singing out loud, "The Lord is with me. I will not be afraid. Yes, He is with me. I will not be afraid!"

It's useful again.

For some reason my wife forgot to take her wedding dress when she left. I guess it can still be good for something. Perfect for a table cloth. What else do you think I could do with it?

Thank you

I might could try to explain or describe or amuse or depress with lots of words, facts or quotes. I will not try to press the fact that I am serious or that what I say comes from the heart. Nothing I can write will do justice to the picture. To all the servicemen and women who have fought and died for my freedom I just say "Thank You".

another good day!

I'm trying to figure out exactly where this fits in the top three days of my life. It was fun to ride in the cars, alot of fun! But even better was seeing my old man getting into that car and even better still, seeing him get out with a huge smile nearly as big as mine! We talked, we laughed, we made fun of people, we prayed for people. We discussed theology and dogs and women and other stuff we don't understand. I just hope I'm there someday when "Just act like you know what you're doing" gets us into a lot of trouble! That'll be a hoot! Thanks, Pop. My best stories will always have you in em!

Unheeded warning

Many years ago I went with the girl I was dating at the time to her parents’ house for Thanksgiving and a family reunion. My girlfriend’s whole family was there. She had brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, nieces and nephews all there laughing and having fun with everything for which to be thankful. I remember her grandmother and grandfather were sitting on the couch next to each other when somebody set the grandfather up with a loaded question.


“Gramps, if you had to do it all over again, would you marry Grandma again?” they asked with a smile.


Gramps didn’t blink.


“No” was his simple answer.


There was some uncomfortable laughter but it was quickly obvious that Gramps was not kidding.


“But, Gramps, I mean…you wouldn’t have all your kids and grandkids. Wouldn’t you do it over again, you know…” they asked encouragingly.


“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Well, why not?”


“Too hard.” said Gramps. “Too hard.”

Bathroom wall wisdom...

No matter how good-looking she is, somebody, somewhere is sick of her. Now there's proof that it works both ways: Halley Berry is breaking up with her long-time boyfriend Gabriel Aubrey and he's "sad". Following Friday's multiple reports of a split between the Oscar-winning actress and the French-Canadian male model, Aubry confirmed the news.

"I am sad to say that Halle and I have decided together to separate at this time," Aubry's statement reads. "She is, and will forever be one of the most special and beautiful people that I have ever known, and I am certain that we will continue to have only love and respect for one another."

He's a male super-model and she's...well...Halle Berry!

I know how you feel, Aubrey. It happens to the best of us.

Storytime in parts

--Part XVII--Conclusion

Marilyn and Teddy wandered through the town, and eventually were drawn to a big crowd forming around a bandstand. There was a festive mood in the air, and as they approached, they could see that the high school band playing "Hail to the Chief". After a brief introduction from the town's mayor, a tubby bald man with a squeaky voice, the President took the stage and started giving a speech.



As Marilyn listened to the intonation of the President's voice, her thoughts dwelt on the events of the past day and on her seemingly hopeless, purposeless situation, when suddenly Teddy became very excited, barking and scurrying around Marilyn's feet, apparently taking interest in two men. Marilyn watched them as they ducked under the rope cordoning off the stage area. They don't look like press or police, so she wondered what they were doing. She couldn't see the face of one of the men because a baseball cap is pulled low, showing only his scruffy chin. However, the other man turned towards her long enough that she recognized him. Her mind began to spin, and before she could fully grasp the significance of what she saw, she called out, "Ike!" The grocer turned towards her, and when he recognized her, a look of panic filled his face. With a thud he dropped a heavy object on the ground and bolted. The other man turned and stared at her, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Before he could move, a Secret Service agent grabbed Jimbob Cade.



Marilyn's attention returned to Ike Elsheim as he darted away from the crowd, when his trajectory carried him past a tall, shabby figure who no one had noticed approaching. Don extended one arm in a quick motion and sent Ike tumbling in a graceful arc, landing solidly on his back. Two Secret Service agents were on the scene in moments, dark glasses and black suits exuding authority and a no-nonsense manner which made questioning their commands unthinkable. The crowd broke out into pandemonium, as police and security officers tried to maintain order and a flood of Secret Service men emerged from the shadows, surrounding the President and hustling him away in the waiting limousine.



"On your feet, this way both of you" barked one of the men in black to Ike and Don. They were escorted firmly to the Secret Service command center, a makeshift arrangement unpacked from a large truck, with an assortment of radio gear, surveillance equipment, metal detectors, and rifles, where another officer was searching Jimbob.



Meanwhile, Officer Blunt caught sight of Marilyn in the crowd. She stood out because she stood frozen in place, while most of the crowd surged away from the chaotic scene. Blunt caught Marilyn by the arm and led her to the command center. One Secret Service officer was examining the object Ike had dropped, a chromed .38 special revolver. Another announced "This man is not armed" as he finished frisking Jimbob.



Marilyn, Blunt, Ike, Jimbob, and a half dozen secret service watched in shock as Don pulled a gleaming Secret Service badge from his pocket. "I took this from him earlier today," Don announced, withdrawing an identical revolver from his overcoat pocket, and handing it to the ranking officer on the scene.



"This one is not armed either," reported the officer who was searching Ike. "All he had on him was this," he said, holding up a key ring with a set of car keys and a police insignia. Upon seeing the keys, Officer Blunt turned white, "Men, we need to find a Birmingham squad car. Those keys belong to Hank, my partner. I left Ike in his custody last night." It took just a few minutes to locate the car, parked two blocks away on a side street, Hank's body in the back seat.



As Ike and Jimbob were cuffed and taken away, several Secret Service officers questioned Don about his role. Don explained, "I was sent here by direct order from the Director. We knew that there was a conspiracy to assassinate the President today, but we didn't know the identity of the second shooter. Our intelligence indicated that Marilyn would recognize him, so it was my job to make sure that she was here. Marilyn may not realize it, but she was the hero of the day."



Don offered to drive Marilyn and Teddy home. His car was a model she had never seen before, but she was so exhausted that she couldn't ask about it, but instead fell into a deep sleep as they drove. When he dropped her off at the curb, he handed her a gallon of cold milk. "Take this to your mother. I think she is waiting for it." She looked at the expiration date on the glass bottle beaded with condensation. It read 4/11/2019.


**Afterward**

As the reader well knows my imagination runs wild sometimes but also needs a nap afterward and I would like to sincerely thank all parties involved for their inspiration for this abomination of a true story. I would also like to thank Don Dodson who kicked this over the finish line by writing the entire last chapter. Don is a great friend and the smartest person and best writer I know. You can read more of his stuff here: http://dondodson.blogspot.com/ and here: http://obamainc.blogspot.com/.

Dear Lord...

What do you think Harry Reid is praying for?

Good friends

Why don't we do this more often? Here's the scene: dinner on the back porch, simple and delicious with fun, relaxed conversation. Nobody trying to impress anybody or show off or be the center of attention. Nothing fancy although the cook went to some trouble and yet the evening seemed easy and comfortable with no pressure, no pity and no problem too big for our mutual Savior. Forrest and Germania embody peace, joy, wisdom and contentment mixed with a love for each other and for Jesus that is truly inspiring. Thank you, guys, for the evening and thank you, Lord, for my friends.

It's complicated.

There is a button that you can check on Facebook regarding your relationship that says, "It's complicated". You can be married or divorced or single or complicated. I'm kind of in the stage now where I'm a little bit of all that. Everything about my relationship is complicated. I never had reason to think about it before but now I have to wonder about how to act in front of some people. Do I tell people I'm about to be divorced or that I'm single or married or nothing at all? Do I have to wear a shirt when I eat dinner? How much is my house worth? Who owns the bed? What do you do with a family Bible when there is no longer the family in the front cover page? Hmm...I don't know.

The Bible tells us "Lean not on your own understanding but in all your ways acknowledge Him". It's a good thing I don't have to lean on my understanding or I would probably fall over. God never promises us a life of ease. In fact, Job said that "Man born of woman is of few days and full of trouble". Job would know too! But I do know one thing. I have told our Bible Fellowship class at church a hundred times that God gives peace and joy even in the hardest times and the other day I realized that I think I was right and didn't really understand it until now. I know I'm not the first one to go through this and won't be the last. So I'll tell all those who unfortunately come this way in the future that while life will be complicated, if you acknowledge God in all you do you don't have to rely on your own understanding.

Windy Sunday

Sunday morning prayer time with the Pastor. Small group holding hands. Men and women gathered together to ask the Creator for blessings. Powerful. Meaningful. Quiet.

Frrrtt!

From across the circle.

Why is that bodily function so funny? No burp, blink or yawn can compare.

The 5th grade boy in me squeezes his eyes tight and bites his lip.

God, help me not to laugh is my prayer.

I've been pre-occupied...

Sorry for the light blogging lately. I'm not giving it up. I have some ideas on some things I want to write about but unfortunately after 8 years my marriage has "become insupportable because of discord and conflict of personalities". That just means I'm another statistic and it makes me mad. I don't know what divorce etiquette is and it probably doesn't include blogging but this is my blog and my therapy. I'll be glad to talk with anybody about it but there's not much left to say. It wasn't my idea nor is it what I want. There ought to be a warning sticker attached to a marriage license advising that this ceremony may be hazardous to your wealth.

Bly (Iron John)

What does it mean when a man falls in love with a radiant face across the room? It may mean he has some soul work to do. His soul is the issue. Instead of pursuing the woman and trying to get her alone...he needs to go alone himself, perhaps to a mountain cabin, for three months, write poetry, canoe down a river, and dream. That would save some poor woman alot of trouble.

Good day

There's not many things better than chocolate chip cookies hot out of the oven and a cold jug of milk.

Summary for the week so far...

I've always known I wasn't the smartest guy around...In fact, I had pretty much convinced myself I would rather be funny than smart...but sometimes I just wish smart would show up...I mean it would be nice to be at least one of the two.

Bad day for somebody...

Pretty sure somebody lost their job today. This is a trailer house sitting upside down on the side of the road. As far as I know, Obama did not cause this job loss.

Ears to You

I finally got the perfect idea for making some money. There's no overhead. No start-up costs. No franchise fees or dues to pay. I got this idea at work today as I tried to talk to an older woman on the phone about her taxes. I say "I tried" because she wound up doing most of the talking. I don't know how or why but she talked about everything she could think of. I tried to explain what she owed and she talked about the weather. I mentioned what would happen if she didn't pay her taxes and she said she didn't like Obama. I soon realized that this poor little old lady just needed someone to talk to.

That's when it hit me. I'm getting paid to listen to some old bat talk about whatever she wants. This is obviously a niche that needs to be filled and I'm just the man to do it. Sure, it drives me crazy when I'm trying to explain something important but what if that was what I was there for? Why not? I could be a professional listener. Obviously there are alot of people in this world who just need someone to talk to. I know because I try to talk to them all the time. You know who I'm talking about. You don't go visit your elderly aunt or the neighbor across the street because you know they will never let you go. I'm going to solve everybody's problems with that.

The pricing schedule has yet to be finalized but I think some people will pay pretty good money to have me sit in their living room or at their office and just say, "Uh-huh" and "really?" and the ever-popular, "tell me more". As long as you're paying I'm listening. Just ask "why is that?" or "when did that happen?" and before you know it...ka-ching baby! It's a job even I am smart enough to do. Just keep my mouth shut and ears open. Not a bad skill for everyone to learn but I'll cash in on the folks who never have.

Also, the other aspect of my services could include (for those who need just the opposite) telling my own stories. I have a million of those and for a small fee (smaller than listening to yours) I could share them with your shut-in neighbor who just needs some company. Now this would be cheaper than listening but as soon as I finish and you start to tell me your story the price goes right back up. That's the way it goes. Everybody thinks their stories are better so be prepared to pay for it. Quality listening doesn't come cheap and you get what you pay for.

So, I think at least a dollar a minute would be fair. Maybe a travel reimbursement will be included and tipping is accepted when appropriate. Democrats are extra. We can swap referrals. Nobody wants to converse with an axe-murderer. Anyway, I think it's a good deal for everybody. Goodness knows some people need it! So, tell your friends...if you can get a word in edge-wise.

Today's quote

We cannot at one and the same time show that we are clever and that Christ is wonderful.

--James Denney

Some useful info...

I am an extremely laid-back kinda guy. I rarely ever get mad. It's even more rare that I show it and I have been in only a few real fights in my life. Maybe someday I'll share some of those stories but not today. It is probably a good thing that I don't get mad easy 'cuz Hulk Hogan I ain't. More like Colonel Hogan or Ben Hogan maybe but not Hulk. Anyway, if you want to stay out of my blazing rage, I have three rules for you:

1) Never touch me. At all. Seriously. My wife and maybe a very few select family members can touch me without me taking it as a threat. Some situations are better than others (like church) but as a general rule, just don't touch me.

2) Don't point your finger at me. If you are picking me to win a prize and point and say my name in a friendly way then we have no problem but if you have a problem with me and wag your finger at me I'm going to take that as a threat. You have made it clear to me that you want to fight. Even worse is a finger poke in the chest. You leave me no choice but to physically convince you not to do that.

3) Raising your voice in anger is how non-adults start fights and I'm just childish enough to retaliate physically. Don't yell at me. We can resolve any conflict with our inside voices. If you scream at me I have to assume you want to go to Fist City and I'll lead us there.

That's it. Up to a point you can do almost anything without making me very mad. Calling me names doesn't really bother me. You really have to purposefully do me wrong to make me want to fight. Even then, I'm not the biggest or toughest guy on the block but I will give you one more hint: I AM armed. Have a great day!

Me blog you long time!

Comments to my last post from オナニー:


逆援助
SEX
フェラチオ
ソープ
逆援助
出張ホスト
手コキ
おっぱい
フェラチオ
中出し
セックス
デリヘル
包茎
逆援
性欲

My first international comments! And if my Mandarin is correct the translation is "my last possum just parked in a handicapped zone" but I may be off. Not sure what the second word is.

And now to illustrate...

The Four Rules
1. All firearms are always loaded.
2. Never let the muzzle of a firearm point at anything you are not willing to destroy.
3. Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot.
4. Be sure of your target and what lies beyond it.

"Now, class, always make sure thatBOOM!!!"

Gary

I'm gonna miss my friend Gary! He died last night after 33 months with glioblastoma which is alot longer than the doctors expected. God was incredibly good to bless Gary with few symptoms and a great attitude all the way to the end. He made me laugh and inspired me and lived how Jesus would appreciate. This picture would have been clearer if both of us hadn't been laughing so hard. Thanks, Gary, for everything!

Edit: Please read http://www.bpnews.net/bpnews.asp?id=27851

and http://glioman.blogspot.com/

h/t: http://dondodson.blogspot.com/

Satan

Sorry for the weird formatting. I couldn't figure out how to do it any other way. Maybe it's because you are supposed to buy it but it also says that even if you don't buy it to at least watch it.

We could be in Acapulco right now.

I'm sick of cold weather. I'm especially sick of it when I think I was there last winter.

James and I don't understand.

In the front of my Bible there is a note that I wrote to remind myself of an important date. The note reads, "I was saved Feb. 16, 1975". I grew up in a Christian family but still probably did not completely understand what all "saved" entailed in 1975. And that's okay. If we waited until we completely understood everything none of us would ever make that decision. For me, as a small child, I knew enough to know that everybody did things that were wrong and I wanted Jesus to come into my life and forgive me and I wanted to go to Heaven and that was pretty much all I knew about it. Looking back, I realize that's all I had to know. I also realize how much more there is to know.

Today I visited my friend James in the nursing home. James is 65 years old and has always had the mind of about a 6-7 year old. He has always been slow-minded and he has always had a child-like loving heart and loves to go to church. But now dementia has taken away my friend and he doesn't even respond to me. I don't think he recognizes me at all. He lives in a dreary, smelly old place with dreary, smelly old people that he does not know nor do they really know him. He shares a tiny room with another man and has two pictures of his mother hanging on the wall. A tv set sits on a small dresser. That's all the possessions he has. He has nothing to do all day but watch tv. And I have to admit that all I can really do for him is pray that God takes him soon.

The older I get and the more I think I know about God, the more I realize I don't understand. I don't understand why bad things happen to good people, or why good things happen to bad people. I don't understand why God allows some things or if he causes some things to happen and just allows other things to happen. I don't understand alot of things. You can ask my wife or my boss about that, but I am beginning to understand that this life is all about having a relationship with God and not just knowing facts about Him. So someday I will ask Him all those things but until then I will trust Him. And I look forward to seeing my friend James there too. I do know that.

AMT .380

Life is full of compromises. Not the least of which is deciding what gun is right for you. My little AMT .380 gets nothing but grief from everybody that ever sees it. It is very small. There is no safety and no sights. It only holds five rounds and the .380 is on the fringe of what most consider to be caliber enough to be a man-stopper. Lots of people that have had an AMT complain about reliability. In the gun world, this is the ugly stepchild.

This was the first pistol I ever owned. I bought it new with my own money when I was probably still a teenager. I carried it concealed one way or the other for about twenty years. I carried it in my boot or inside my waistband and sometimes in my pocket and sometimes still do even though I have a bigger, better gun. I often had failure to fires at the gun range until it got completely broken-in and often thought about trying to trade for something else but knew it had a bad reputation.

The biggest problem I have with it now is trying to find and pay for ammo. It is not nor was it designed to be a target pistol or a bear-slayer. It doesn't have lasers or adjustable carbon fiber diode gas-impinged night sights. The grips are not ivory or even wood. It's not comfortable to shoot nor does it make a big hole in the paper. It's not alot of things but it is considerably better than nothing at all and if you want concealability in a snag-free frame I will be one of the few to choose the compromising little AMT.

Gotta love Ambien!

Wow. That's all I can say. When I woke up this morning I thought, "I better check and see what I wrote last night". What an idiot! It's sorta like a good story, though. I think a good story should be told even if it makes me look bad. Same thing with late night drug-induced blog posts. I'm leaving it up there, misspellings and all cuz it's funny! When was the last time you heard "oom boppa mow mow"? I don't even know. Wow.

Ramblin' Fever

My legs are shaking. My eyes are glazing. My brain is...bored! I'm obviously succumbing to the fever of the road and I gotta get out of here soon but it's way too cold! All I can do is think about where I want to be in about four months. Well, maybe three. Should I go to California?

Or maybe I should go to Big Bend here in Texas.

Or maybe a beautiful ride through what could easily be home--somwhere in Dixie. I miss the mountains but don't want to be cold. Yet anything would be better than going to work every day and then coming home to the highlight of seeing if somebody wants to be my Facebook friend. I picture a mountain road winding back on itself over and over with fresh air and no tpr reports with me riding naked, rubbing green jello on myself and singing "oom boppa mowmow" and saying"Wee!" when I go down the mountain shooting my pistol at birds high above. What time is it? UhOh, half past Ambien. No wonder. Let's all go to bed, huh?

Gubernatorial Debate

Huh, huh! I said guber! Seriously, I thought tonight's debate for Texas Governor was very impressive. Very well done and I have to admit: Medina looked pretty good. Does anybody else see Perry and Hutchinson as disgusting, typical politicians? Is a vote for Medina gonna be Ross Perot'd off? She seemed to have answers when the others tried to blame either Washington D.C. or each other. They all had some tough questions. Hmmm...

Can't wait

You know what's better than a raise? You know what's better than respect or recognition? You wanna know what really has morale pumping in my office? Jean Day. Yep. Tomorrow is Jean Day and you can almost feel the electricity of skyrocketing morale as we all contemplate the age-old question of Wranglers or Levi's. Man, this makes up for everything.

He didn't need it anyway.

For my 500th blog post I would like to give this thought: How do either one of them ever live this down?!

I'm not even trying to google a good picture of this.

Help for Haiti

Please go to the link on this page for Samaritan's Purse to donate to helping Haiti. I've worked several times with this group and know that money sent through them will be well-spent. I really want to go there to help and maybe I can soon but for now they just need money. I'm sure the Red Cross would be great as well but Samaritan's Purse also meets spiritual needs of hurting people. Also on Facebook.

Sunset

Sometimes I think God is just showing off. And why shouldn't He? If you can pull off a show like this, more power to ya. I guess that would be "all power to ya". Anyway, the picture, of course, doesn't do it justice. There is even a rainbow on the far left that doesn't show up on my camera phone as I drive down the highway. I guess if you can literally move the heavens then my problems don't sound like such a big deal, huh?

Gun names

In the mid-1980's the U.S. military adopted the Beretta 92FS to become its standard issue sidearm. They immediately called it the M9. Dozens of manufacturers produce a Model 1911. It's also known as the 1911/A1. It mainly is known to come in .45 ACP but also comes in almost any number of other calibers. A Model 70 Winchester rifle can come in almost any caliber from .22 to .458. The military's rifle is the popular M-16. It's also known as the M-16A1, M-16A2, M4, AR-15 and it shoots the .223 round which is also known as the 5.56 mm.

Still with me? Good grief, I don't even know what I'm talking about! All I know is that guns should have names, not numbers. Not names like SIG Sauer (why is the sig in all caps but not the sauer?) or Garand or Walther. I don't think these people know how to spell. I think guns need more nicknames so I know which one people are talking about. I like "Ma Deuce" or "Burp Gun" or "Grease Gun". Even "Tommy Gun". I know what that looks like. It even has more nicknames: "Trench Broom", "Chicago Piano" or "Chopper". Any of them are better than "Thompson submachine gun".

I know of at least one "Poodle-Shooter" and a few called "Ol' Faithful" or "Tiny" or "Big Boy". I'll just call my pistol "Bill". It's short, plain, and nothing fancy. It fits. I don't have a name for my shotgun but maybe "Mudfence" because nothing can be pretty with that name. So, what do you have? "Padre" or "Buzzsaw" or "Cereal Killer"? Maybe a "Screamin' Meemie" or a "Bugle"? Just don't tell me you have an AR-10A4 SPR or I'll get ol "Loudmouth" after ya!

I fell off the bandwagon.

Gotta be honest here. All I can think about is how all you folks that thought Jerry Jones was the anti-Christ for firing Tom Landry now think he walks on water. Somebody explain why I shouldn't have a problem with it. The argument that "it's just a game" works both ways. If it's just a game then why should I (or you folks on the bandwagon) care?

Storytime in Parts

--Part XVI--

Master Special Officer Craig Miller had been stationed at the Secret Service headquarters in Washington D.C. since just before the 1950 assassination attempt on President Truman. He had been a New York police investigator for seven years and had served six years in the military. He had risen quickly through the ranks and was now the lead agent of the White House branch of the Secret Service in charge of protecting the president. He was a stocky 6'2" with a short flat-top haircut. His dark gray suit was custom made to accomodate his large frame as well as a sidearm in a holster on his hip. He also carried a multi-band communication radio, a surveillance kit, a large personal pocket knife and his identification badge. There were no photos of friends or loved ones in his wallet.

Miller had seen combat. He had seen death. He had gone headfirst and eyes open into places no man should ever see. He had undured training that would literally kill most men and had received even more scars than he had medals. He was prepared for any contingiency, ready to take a bullet or defuse a bomb. His fellow agents joked that Miller could kill a man with a sponge if he had to. Everyone respected Master Special Officer Miller. Everyone except the one contingiency for whom Miller had failed to train. Now this contingiency stood staring up at him unimpressed.

"Whatd'ya do with Teddy?"

Miller looked at the little ragamuffin through his ever-present sunglasses and said, "Excuse me?"

"Where's my dog?"

"I...I...don't know."

"Well, where's Don? He'll know."

"Don who?", said the agent.

President Eisenhower was talking a few feet away with Officer Blunt in very animated yet subdued tones and had left Marilyn with his most trusted security officer. They were all standing in the hotel lobby having just left the chaos of the reception outside and entered into another chaos inside as the hotel staff, various reporters, city and state dignitaries and their entourages as well as muliple layers of security personnel all hovered around being very busy with the arrival of the most powerful man in the country. This most powerful man called his most trusted agent's name so he could come over to verify some of Blunt's story and that is when the most powerful man and the most trusted agent lost sight of the unplanned-for contingiency.

As Marilyn ran, she was now sure this was the worst thing that could happen. She would never have dreamed that the police and the President of the United States would all gang up on her and her dog all because somebody thought Teddy had bitten them. It was not even true! How could this happen? She had to save Teddy again so she made a break for the door. Nobody paid any attention as the young waif sifted quickly through the mass of people and hit the exit running. Just as she passed through the door she heard her named called from somebody inside the hotel and from somebody outside the hotel. She ran even faster now. She had to save Teddy!

Storytime in Parts

--Part XV--

Marilyn hardly noticed the drop of sweat heading down her back from the back of her head. She no longer heard the marching band from the local high school playing an uninspired version of "Hail to the Chief". She did not notice the woman across from her waving a flag nor did she even realize that Don and Teddy were no longer standing next to her. She could not smell the exhaust fumes from the black limo just a few feet away and yet, with all her senses being bombarded, the one thing she noticed was his after-shave.

She was reminded of her grandfather and while the smell was not totally unpleasant, Marilyn felt very uncomfortable. Her vexation was multiplied by the fact that she was obviously in the wrong place at the wrong time. She recognized Officer Blunt as he put his hand on her shoulder and spoke to her and at the same time the President of the United States was introducing himself to her and looking at Blunt like Blunt should be saying something or doing something else. A Secret Service officer was now standing on the other side of her talking into a radio all the while people all around her cheered and the band played mercilessly on.

The president repeated himself. "Dwight Eisenhower", and added, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

With still no response the president looked at Blunt and then quickly glanced at some of the crowd. He was getting mixed feedback coming from the body language of the people around him. He expected the girl's parents to be there with her but nobody seemed to be with her and yet the local policeman seemed to know her and yet the poor child was filthy and smelled of mud and pancakes. He was used to meeting people who froze up when they were introduced but the child seemed to be considerably more worried about the young officer. To make matters more awkward the girl seemed to be handing him a syrup-smeared dinner plate. In just a few seconds the president went from Commander-In-Chief confident to just plain confused.

He took the plate, looked at it and said, "Oh...thank you?" His voice was more questioning than grateful. His smile was now awkward and forced. As he was just about to walk off from the graceless encounter Officer Blunt spoke up.

"Her name is Marilyn...Mr. President. She's...umm... with me." Blunt, like the others, was trying to recover his wits.

The president looked relieved at getting even this much information. At least he could work with it.

"Well, Marilyn, is this your daddy?", he said with a patronizing grin.

"No!", said Marilyn excitedly and emphasized, "And I am not with him!"

The presidential grin was replaced with a confused scowl as Eisenhower looked expectantly at Blunt now. The Secret Service officer was gently trying to remind the president of his schedule but was given a curt "just a minute" finger. The band leader was unsure how many stanzas of "Hail to the Chief" he should play and an awkward laugh followed an untimely "We like Ike!" hollered from a man in the crowd.

Officer Blunt tried to explain but stammered around so long that finally the pressured president interrupted and with his shoulders settled and his hands on his hips said firmly, "Look, I want both of you to come with me right now". The Secret Service officer took this as his cue and ushered the president, Blunt and Marilyn into the hotel.

The confused head-tilt of Teddy seemed to summarize the situation as he stood next to Don watching at a distance.

Storytime in Parts

--Part XIV--

Marilyn's mother still sat at the family's modest kitchen table. She stared, hardly blinking, at the back of her left hand without noticing the hand or the table cloth on which she rested it. She failed to notice the smell of the fresh coffee her husband had made before he left to look for his daughter. She had long since quit noticing any other smells or hearing the usual sounds of life in her house. The dark wooden paneling on the walls, the humm of a passing car, the warmth of the sun as it sneaked across the window of the room. All evaded her senses at this point as she stared blankly with her head down.

Twenty-eight years old with pleasant features and a matriarchal confidence usually found in women much older, she now felt so many feelings internally that it seemed to block out any external stimuli. Her daughter had been missing for nearly two full days and her initial concern now included feelings of guilt, wrapped in panic and now starting to subsume a repressed sense of anger. She did not want to feel angry and tried to explain to herself why she should not be and yet she seemed to be losing that mental self-debate. She let her mind argue with itself of the justification for her being mad.

She, of course, was not mad at Marilyn or really anybody else for that matter. Like a crisis usually does, the situation with Marilyn had prompted her to think about the big questions of life. She now thought of not only the "wheres" and "whens" of Marilyn's disappearance but also the "whys". Why would God do this to a precious child? Did God actually do this or as their preacher had said, did God just allow such things but not cause them? If God allows evil things to happen then it must be for some reason and if it is for His reason then is that any different than causing it to happen? This course of thought led her to feelings of enmity between her and "The Almighty".

Her well-worn Bible lay on the table next to her. She was as accustomed to using it as she was the salt shaker on the table next to it. It had given great comfort many other times in her life as well as good news and practical information on the best ways to live so she instinctively picked it up from the spot where she had her daily semi-quiet times. Between making meals and tending to household business she tried to always make time to read a few passages daily and then talk to God about her family and friends, asking His blessings and wisdom for them all. This time she just needed some questions answered.

Just the act of opening it up to the Book of Job and seeing her own handwriting in the margins brought a distinct peace and a certain level of understanding to the situation that surprised her with its swiftness. She realized that she knew some of the answers and also that some things had to be accepted with faith. She may never understand how prayer works but it fell off of her tongue in humble appreciation, "God, thank you for taking care of my sweet Marilyn." She paused and added with what may have been the slightest of smile, "and Teddy too."

JD

The death of a dog may not compare to the death of a human and I will not minimize your human loss in the least but, as I told someone today, I learned more about love and loss from JD than from most any person I've ever known. He has been gone five years today and I still hope to someday be the man of character that he was.

Would you rather have this or Easter bunny boy?

There's gotta be a caption in there somewhere...

My Santa is better than my Easter Bunny.

Does this cottontail make my butt look big?

I'm unwanted.

Good news from the forsaken desert of Mormon delight that is Utah! I called the court today to check on the status of my arrest warrant and evidently my letter to the judge worked. I am officially no longer a fugitive. My bandit days of glory are over and now I have to readjust to normal life no longer in fear of every siren or flashing light. Hopefully, I can continue this life on the straight and narrow but there are no guarantees. The illicit high of living on the edge of right and wrong is calling me back to the life I was born to lead. Danger and scandal are in my blood. I'm a highwayman with a black Shadow and I'm born to run. Just not to Utah.

I need a scam.

Years and years ago I worked for a guy who was a pretty good business man. In fact, his business continues to grow and thrive even today. I remember talking to him one time about how it seemed to me that everybody had some kind of scam going on. Everybody seemed to have something shady but lucrative going on and I was thinking out loud to him one day about how crazy it seemed to me that people worked so hard to try to make a few extra bucks by trying to rip somebody else off.

He heartily agreed with me that if people would just put as much effort into legitimate ventures that everybody would be so much better off. We seemed to be of the exact same mind about the detriment to everybody involved when it came to illegal, immoral or even under-handed dealings with people and that we could hardly stand people who were "scammers". In the next breath he went on to tell me that the "only thing" he had going on was this complicated scheme he had been doing with his federal taxes and maybe a few minor kickbacks to some local movers and shakers. You know. That's all.

I look back and realize that was my first step into Crazytown. It is the ultimate naivete to think you are not naive. I have at last come to the realization that I am the only one left in the world not trying to pull something over on somebody else and I'm tired of it. I want in! I hope all the good scams aren't gone yet. I am actually a big fan of a good scam. In fact, I hate to admit it but evidently Al Gore is a smoking genius! I mean look at this whole climate change deal. We first heard it called "global warming" and when that title failed to fit he just called it something else and said it was now even worse. Now the only way I can prevent polar bears from drowning and kids in Somalia from starving is to pay money. Genius!

Hitler once said that if you tell a big enough lie enough times that pretty soon people will believe you. So I'm working on my scam but don't worry, it's going to be big. Well, maybe not "climate change" big or "Obamacare" big but still pretty big. I need something, though, that will be as big or bigger than my previous boss or even the boss I have now, who's scam is to make everybody feel bad so she feels good. It's even working out pretty well for her and she's no smarter than I am. So, this is just a warning. Be careful around me because I could be using you in some way for my profit. It could happen! Oh, wait...maybe I shouldn't have said anything. Dangit! I already messed up! Nevermind.

A great addition to a classic!

I rarely even add any comments to the comments about anything I post much less post a comment as a post. Make sense? But I have to make an exception here with a comment from my last post about being a lonesome fugitive. I enjoy reading any comment a reader has to make but this anonymous reader evidently had enough time on his hands to write a few new verses to a good old Merle Haggard / Willie Nelson tune and, I have to admit, would make them proud with it. Now, if you don't know the tune to "Pancho and Lefty" then get off my blog! Go read that Daily Kos guy or Perez Hilton or something, you communist, puppy-killing, scumbag! Anyhow, it's too bad, DR, that it will have to stay anonymous and nobody will ever know what geezy riding, cb-talking, Shakespeare-referencing, Latin-speaking, long story-telling loyal reader ever wrote this. Yep, too bad. Oh, well. So...just in case you missed it go back to the comments section of the last post. Merle and Willie and I recommend it.

I'm a lonesome fugitive.

I knew this double life would catch up to me sooner or later. I just hate for it to end like this. I'm a wanted man now. An outlaw. A desperado with a checkered past and now I'm on the run. Don't try to stop me and I can't take you with me. It's too dangerous for you and you would only slow me down. It has to be like this so be strong.

I just got a letter in the mail from Justice Court of Uintah County, State of Utah. It is a warrant for my arrest commanding all peace officers in the state of Utah to attach my body (whatever that means) before the court asap. To be served day or night, Sunday or holidays. Evidently, that terminology is only used for the really hardened criminals like myself who are convicted of the crime of...wait for it...you'll love it...wait for it..."improper lane travel w/ crash". Yep! They gave me a ticket for crashing my motorcycle in their state.

My last memory was riding down the road, no alcohol or excessive speed involved, and then waking up in the hospital. I still don't know who found me as I was unconcious for several hours and when I woke up in the hospital there was a traffic ticket literally stuck in my pocket! So, evidently, the state trooper who was first on the scene took my gun from my possesion and replaced it with a ticket for not signaling that I was about to crash. He crammed a ticket into the front pocket of my lifeless body and then drove home with my pistol!

So, let this be a lesson to you, kids. Make sure your lane travel w/ crash is proper or at least don't do it improperly in Uintah County Utah because now I must be moving on. They'll never catch me alive because I can't go back to the Mormon Big House, you hear me?! I can't. It's a life of the bandit wanderer for me now, always one step ahead of the law. I looked for trouble and I found it, son, straight down the barrel of a lawman's gun... oh, wait, that's my gun!

Santa 09

My second year to be Santa for some special needs kids and I had a blast! Look at all the candy canes in her hand. This was the second time she came to see me and said she had six more siblings that needed candy canes. I would have given her the whole bag of candy canes if she wanted!

The Symphony

I saw both ends of the spectrum today. I had to go to the Walmarts (my wife says I should quit calling it that) and I saw a perfect mullet, a woman in total camo from her pants to her shirt to her cap, and one of the fattest people I have ever seen. In the time it took me to get some medicine and get out of there I felt I lost about 50 IQ points. This evening, though, was just the opposite. My sister invited some of the family to go to the symphony and we had a great time. We all got dressed up and I acted like I was not a brain-dead redneck long enough to feel some brain cells almost come back to life. I'm sorry the picture is not better but it shows how close we were to the orchestra. I could have read the music, well...if I could read music. Wow! The sound was incredible! The musicians were incredibly talented and we had front-row seats to see and hear as well or better than the conductor himself. I went to their website and the first chair violinist plays a 1710 Stradivari worth millions of dollars. I can't even comprehend that! Do you know how much camo you could buy with that kinda money?

I guess this makes me a climate change "denier"

Just more evidence...

Interesting but never gonna happen...


h/t Landshark

Could it be?

It's very rare that I even try to predict anything and even rarer when I'm right about something . Ok, this is the first time but I would say it's a pretty big deal! I don't want to...actually, I do want to tell you that I told you so. Global warming is a complete and total hoax.

To Bob

Dear Sideshow Bob, I thought you would appreciate the next few posts. Enjoy. I did.

Homer and Joe

Who doesn't love unicorns?

Marge and Sarah

Hutz and Putz