Which one doesn't belong?

Dear Lord...

I know I haven't talked to you much, however this past year you have taken away my favorite actor, Patrick Swayze,
my favorite actress, Farah Fawcett,
my favorite musician, Michael Jackson,
and my favorite salesman, Billy Mayes.

I just wanted to let you know that my favorite president is Barack Obama.

Amen.

Matthew Henry 1662-1714

Peace is such a precious jewel that I would give anything for it but truth.


A dog can whip a skunk but is it worth it? Pop

h/t DR

There should be doves in these pictures.

Look close and see the scaredest jackrabbit in the county.




This is how I feel sometimes: the only one of these in a herd of those.

Dorky

Ok, to make up for having to read that last post, here's something more fun. This picture was taken December 7, 1941. The mother of all these kids thought the world was going to end because of Pearl Harbor and so demanded that all the kids pose in the yard for this picture. My friend, Dorothy Cybil, (They called her Cyb. I call her Dorky.) is on the front row with her arms folded looking to her right and smirking. She just turned 80 this last week. I've known her and her family for about 30 years now and I have always told her that because she's so tough I'm gonna have a pair of boots made out of her hide when she dies. She thinks that is the funniest thing ever. I went to see her on her birthday and as she walked me out to the car as I was leaving I told her that if she doesn't quit shrinking all I'm gonna get is a pair of slippers! I love you, Dorky!

Ugh.

That's the best way to describe me right now. Ugh. It's 3:30 Wednesday morning and I'm obviously wide awake. Sorry, no more midnight Ambien posts anymore, by the way. I dropped that stuff about a month or so ago and usuually sleep great but tonight for some reason I can't. I went to bed early and fell right to sleep but woke up about 1:30 with my mind racing.

Well, between my mind racing and Dori wanting up on the bed, I couldn't sleep. Lots of things to think about. I'm going dove hunting in a few hours and looking forward to that. I just took the Civil Service Exam and did well. I'll find out about my score mid-month. I may have a stalker. I found one flea on one dog yesterday for the first time all year. I think I may know a great secret to how church should be done. My computer runs ALOT faster without a certain filter on it and I'm working on plans to build a storage shed out back.

Now with all that stuff to think about, what's on my mind as I wake up? Ex-wife, divorce. What a waste. Ugh. Long pause...OK, I'm not going to give you everything. In fact I may delete this post later and consider writing it as therapy. Heaven knows I need that. Don't we all? Anyway, my mind keeps coming back to how much has been wasted. The divorce was final about 2 months ago and she has been gone from the house about 5 months. I keep finding stuff that has to do with her and throwing it out or giving it to her or her mom. Pictures, keepsakes, documents...stuff. As far as I know, there is nothing with her picture or name anywhere in the house except for some Christmas stuff I need to get from the attic. I deleted every picture of her or her family from the computer and online. I chunked or sold everything else because I don't want to be reminded of her but that process is excruciating.

Looking at wedding pictures, for example, is a whoopin'! What a great day that was! All my friends and family were there and everybody was having such a good time. My first grade teacher even came! Now looking at those pictures all I see is a waste of time, money, effort, emotions and resources. I threw away pictures of the family vacations we took to Schlitterbaun. All those love notes, birthday cards and anniversary cards I had been saving: trash. Notes from my parents saying how much they loved both of us and were so proud of us. Notes from her parents saying I was the best thing to happen to their daughter. All of it is a waste of paper now. All because of choices she made. Because raising kids is hard. Because staying married is difficult. Because doing the right thing means continuing to do the right thing.

So, what's the lesson learned here? What have I learned through all of this? It's the same lesson that our kids have unfortunately learned from it as well, I'm sure. They are grown now and are working on becoming responsible citizens on their own and I'm sure that we have all learned the same lesson: never get married and if you do then absolutely don't ever have kids. That's what we have learned. How sad. What a waste. Ugh.

Path thith on and make a differnth.

I didn't know what was going to happen first: I thought either the floor would cave in or the dog would bite him. Poor dog and I don't even know who Justin Beiber is but poor Justin Beiber.

5 years

Alot of things can happen in five years. I know Rome wasn't built in a day but I'm pretty sure after five years they had a pretty good start on it. The Empire State Building took about a year to build. The Golden Gate Bridge took about four years. The whining about New Orleans has lasted five years with no end in sight.

I saw in the Star Telegram this morning that the residents of New Orleans and the Ninth Ward in particular are complaining that not enough has been done to help them rebuild. First, and I know this is crazy talk, how about let's all live in places that are above sea level. You know, just in case something bad should happen like another big storm or something. Secondly, how much help do you people want? The word "help" implies that we are going to do this together. Having been to the area three times since Katrina and having busted my hump tearing out walls, roofing houses, using a chainsaw to remove limbs and trees and cleaning up in every way I'm wondering what the problem really is.

Don't get me wrong. I was glad to help and would go back in a flash if and when I'm needed but in my experience it is time for New Orleans to put on its big girl panties and get to work. Pity parties get old pretty quick and I'm tired of bringing the cake. Many times I was sweating on top of a roof using a hammer and nails while the able-bodied homeowner was below me on the porch working a 40-ounce. I tore out walls of a house while the owner watched tv in his government-provided FEMA trailer parked on his lawn. I traveled at my own expense to get there and work on houses that were owned by people I did not know and would never see again while all the men of the neighborhood sat in lawn chairs and watched. Pardon me if I'm not as much the "Helpy Helperton" I used to be.

C'mon Nawlens! It's time to cowboy up. Nashville had horrible flooding recently as well and it barely made the news because the citizens immediately went to work helping each other. Emphasis on "helping" in that sentence. They worked together instead of complaining that the government and everybody else owed them something. I know times are hard but it has been five years and yes, more should have been done by now. Much more, New Orleans.

Flying Circus

I wonder if Monty Python was flying this plane as well.

I will be doing this...

Guys, hunting season is fast approaching!

I found this on a female friend's blog and wanted to share it. She says:

My sweet husband invited me to go hunting with him this year.
I Couldn't believe it...the first time ever!
I never thought he'd be willing to share his 'guy time' with me
And being the thoughtful man that he is, he even gave me an opening day present.
He calls it 'The First Timers Lucky Hat'. I'm so fortunate to be married to him.

I have attached a picture of me in my lucky hat.


h/t Random Thoughts

This just in...

My former pastor just put this on Facebook and I thought it was so appropriate to my last post.

"Sunday's Coming" Movie Trailer from North Point Media on Vimeo.

h/t Pastor Jim

Some brief thoughts on today

Church was good this morning but I think we are making this more difficult than it has to be. Since I left my old church (more on that to come) I have visited around to several local churches and I believe that instead of having a traditional service and a contemporary service that maybe I need just one good worship service. Is this what the first church did in Acts? One service for the young people who have no musical talent and one for the old folks who have no energy left? There's too many rules in church today. I'm not talking about moral issues, I'm talking about the rule that says church has to be an orderly show where everybody is comfortably entertained. Church has to be over by noon EVERY WEEK so we can go eat. Church has to be led by professional leaders. Church has to be in a church building. Church success equals the number of members. These "rules" need to be rethought if Christians are going to remain relevant around here. Two thousand years of "church" and now we need to get back to basics and quit making this thing so difficult.

Hello my new trusted friend!

I just got this email response from a post I put up here over a year ago and wanted to share it:

"Hello!

I'm new to this , but I guess I shall be spending quite a bit of time here as there seems to be so much going on! I'm hoping to make some new friends
Peace out, Dennis from [url=http://www.*******payday.com]Payday Loans[/url] website!"

So, let's see...Dennis from Payday Loans Website wants to be my new friend because there is so much going on. Interesting.

Dear Dennis my friend, It's so good to meet you and since we are now friends and since you assume I am as brain-dead, no brain cell-having, drooling on the short bus stupid as you are I'd like to welcome you to this exciting, fun-filled blog where you can be loyal reader #2. I also can't wait to go on your website even though I'm sure you hadn't planned on that and maybe I can spend some money there or at least catch a nasty virus. And I'll tell all my homo blog friends about how great you are, Dennis, and maybe we could all meet at the Texaco bathroom in stall 3 at midnight and swap url's and recipes. Thanks for making the effort to find me, Dennis and peace on you too.

XXOO--Todd

Caption this.

Actually, Colonel, since I'm omniscient I already know your secret recipe.

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?