Here it comes

Hang on gun fans, here it comes! The ball has started rolling and is picking up speed and soon we'll all be lucky to have BB guns in our Obamanation. Second Amendment, Schmecond Amendment! Better buy 'em now while you can! Let me know what you purchase.

My most beautiful

And the award goes to...'53 Buick Convertible! I love the chrome. I love the lines. Two doors and still huge! Eye candy at its height!

Thanks DR

Gotta love stupid-funny rednecks!

If you brand your cattle with spray paint, you might be a redneck!

If you take your bull to senior prom, you might be a redneck!

If you tattoo your girlfriend's initials on the side of your bull, you might be a redneck!

If you drive a 3/4 ton Pontiac, you might be a redneck!

It's hard to see her but Cody Shane's girlfriend is still in the passenger seat.

Good friends, good church, good grief!

Everybody has a bad day every once in a while. Sometimes that day can stretch into weeks or months and we've all been there. Well, anybody with teenagers has probably been there. This week has been pretty good. Last week was one of the worst I've ever had. Several times this week I've wondered what people do that don't have Jesus in their lives and don't have Christian friends and a good church to come beside them and hold them up. Where do people go when they need help and advice and wisdom? Do you have friends that would pray for you in the middle of the night? Do you have friends that will come to your house just to sit with you or help you do things that you could do by yourself but don't want to? I do. I have friends like that. I have friends that take time out of their busy, stressful day to help me, council me, or just text me to let me know they were praying for me. All I can say is, thank you. Thank you so much!

Job 2:11-13

Rules to live by...

You can debate all day long whether these apply to you or not and hopefully you will never have to figure it out but if this ever happened I hope you can remember the rules. Maybe you have seen them before...


And if I seem to be looking at you funny, it's because I'm remembering #21.


Thanks DT

My point is...

Ok, yea, thanks for the input on the last post, "Interesting Article". Evidently I was the only one who found it interesting. So anyhow, here's my point which I got from the comments section of the linked article: Even with my Concealed Handgun Permit, there are certain places that it is illegal for me to carry my gun and yet I have to admit that unless there is a metal detector at the door, I'm probably carrying. Not everywhere, but most places. And the only way you will ever know if I'm carrying is if I have to pull it out to save a life and there is no other way. I am trained and prepared, knowing the consequences and the benefits and I would rather face a jury of my peers than have a good guy get killed (me or you). So, that's my point.

Interesting article

But even more interesting comments afterward. What do you think?

Catholics get all the cool stuff!

I don't think Baptists even have any patron saints much less this one. We do have Bacon Explosions though and I think that's better.

Storytime in parts

--Part VII--

The human body is an amazing machine of self-preservation. When the vocal cords detect the presence of water or other liquid they sometimes will constrict causing a partial blocking of breathing in which, in the case of near drowning, the situation can last just long enough to block any water from entering the lungs and enable a person to survive for a few seconds under water even if it is unexpected. The condition, laryngospasm, is exactly what happened to Marilyn in the few seconds she was in the creek. Scared, wet and confused, she pulled herself up the other bank and sat down and cried. The clandestine creek had swollen in recent rains that also enabled a growth spurt in the tall grass which made the rivulet almost invisible to Marilyn as she had run out of the barn. Her realization of it failed to make her feel any better, though, and now her situation was dire indeed.

Her mother did not know what kind of dire situation her daughter was in but she now knew that she was missing. After Officer Blunt had taken Ike to the jail, he called Marilyn's mother and told her what he knew of the situation. He assured her that Marilyn would be home soon and that everything would be fine and he was pretty sure that he was not lying to the woman but mainly wanted to make her feel better by saying it. Nobody knew where she was or if she was okay or not but how do you say that to a mother? To be honest, he had not had time to think about Marilyn since the Ike incident. His day since that event had been gorged with interviews of town folk, phone calls, paperwork and other investigation as well as visits to the medical examiner, the chief of police and the mayor. Blunt's first murder investigation was wearing him out but he knew that Marilyn's mother would be anxious to hear about her.

In the meantime, Teddy was quite excited about this new aspect of the adventure. Neither he nor Marilyn knew how to get to the other one without walking what seemed like miles down the creek until it was shallow enough for her to walk across it to him. She did what she had to do to get to him and then fell down next to him exhausted and buried her face in the fur of his neck and let all of her weariness and frustration wet his collar. He sensed her agony and sat still next to his friend until she finally relaxed and lay down next to him. Pretty soon both were asleep in the grass.

Bullet Bob and why I don't care about the Super Bowl

One does not read this blog for the sports. You have probably noticed. The Olympics were pretty interesting because you don't get to see that kind of stuff very often and I like to watch rodeos but other than that, there's not much room in my life for televised sports. I can appreciate how much effort goes into such games but I'm just really not interested anymore.

I saw in the news that "Bullet" Bob Hayes was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame this week and it hit me that the reason I lost interest in the game started with him. He was actually my hero when I was in grade school. I had his poster on my wall over my bed and loved to pretend that I was as fast as he was when I ran. He motivated me as a boy of about 6 or 7 to run hard and play hard and enjoy the game of football more than any other game. I wanted to be just like "Bullet" Bob.

I don't remember how old I was exactly when I heard the news that Bob Hayes had been arrested on drug charges. Looking back on it, what he did was not too uncommon for today's world including sports heroes but back in the day when I was just a young boy wanting to be like that man, what he did was unthinkable. I vividly remember going into my room and slowly taking down his poster from my wall and folding it up and putting it in the trash. I was devistated.

I went on to play football in middle school and high school and loved the game much more than it loved me. You know the joke, "I may be short but I'm slow!" That was me and so I knew pretty quick that my future in football was short-lived. I still enjoyed watching the game some, it was just that seeing grown men abuse the system that put them there, go on strike for more money and use all kinds of drugs and all that stupid stuff just put a bad taste in my mouth for professional games.

This isn't about bashing Bob Hayes. I just don't care who wins the Super Bowl today. I am all about the Super Bowl party that I'm about to go to. Who knows, maybe they will even have some good commercials?

Things I would rather be doing than watching the Super Bowl:

Storytime in parts

--Part VI--

Overall, today was turning into a great time. His ribs were a bit sore behind his left front leg but Teddy was not going to hold one kick from a surly ol' judge against a beautiful, freedom-filled afternoon. What more could a guy want besides a brisk walk in the sunshine with his best friend across fields and down roads, behind buildings and houses and even the occasional respite under a tree? Sometimes he thought he might miss the little metal water bowl back at the house but as long as Marilyn was walking and talking to him, Teddy felt pretty good about things. He had confidence that wherever they were going that she would take care of him and so he was as carefree as ever.

This buoyancy of spirit, however, was confined to only half of the daring duo. Marilyn trudged along with the stubborn naievite of a child but was slowly starting to forget how this plan was supposed to end. She knew that she and Teddy needed to get out of this town but the thoughts of where and how were slowly walking their way through her mind with each step she took. Recollections of her now-former home began to creep painfully into attention along with an irritating realization that she was hungry and thirsty. She and Teddy had walked several miles at an expeditious pace with few stops and she was realizing that she was not only spent physically and emotionally but she was also probably lost as well.

Marilyn stopped beside a pole barn and looked around. Teddy watched her for a second but was quickly distracted by what might be in the barn and proceeded inside. Marilyn followed, welcoming the coolness of the open-sided barn and was glad to find an old mower to sit on.

"Here, Teddy. Which one do you want?" she asked, holding out a choice of candy bars to the dog.

Teddy sniffed the first one he came to and tried to bite it but Marilyn pulled it away long enough to unwrap it and then handed it back to him.

"Good, because I don't really care for peanuts." The two of them shared their few bites of candy and Marilyn slumped back in the seat of the mower with a sigh.

Teddy was just finishing his when Marilyn saw his ears go up and forward and his body stiffened. He licked the last of the candy from his lips and let out a soft growl. Marilyn then heard the voices and looked up as two men in overalls approached the small barn. They were talking to each other but one man seemed quite disturbed and was gesturing with one hand as they walked. As they got closer, Marilyn recognized the gesturing man as the man from church of whom her father had labeled "Brother Thundermuffin" for his ability to raise a ruckus about everything that happened at church, none of it ever being done to his liking.

Marilyn slid off the side of the mower and was holding tight to Teddy as the two men got closer. She just knew that if they caught her they would call the cops and she would be put in jail and who knows what would happen to Teddy then? Her imagination quickly went to places she refused to go physically and she silently promised Teddy again that she would protect him.

A quick "C'mon" was all she said and all it took to bring Teddy in right behind her as she flashed out of the far end of the barn and right over the edge of the unseen creek into and under the rapidly moving water! She heard a splash, a bark and then nothing but darkness. The two startled men were unsure what they just saw.

I'm a model, you know what I mean? And I do my little turn on the catwalk!

A female co-worker had a copy of Vogue magazine in the office today and I glanced through it and wondered: Looking through a womens' magazine all you see are beautiful female models in the ads. When you look at a mens' magazine all you see are beautiful female models in the ads. Where do male models wind up working?

I'm no schmuck!

I may not be alot of things that I should be. I may be alot of things that I should not be. One thing I ain't, though, is a schmuck. I'm not even sure of the definition of the word. It's sort of one of those things that you know it when you see it. I hate the feeling of someone trying to make me out to be a smuck when I'm obviously not one. It's sort of the same feeling you get when you're a tourist. I don't want to be like everybody else and I don't want people thinking I'm stupid. Am I the only one knowing what I'm talking about?

Here's my example: I joined the National Rifle Association in August of last year. Without exaggeration, it was within two weeks after joining that they sent me a letter asking me to renew my membership. They had not even sent me my membership card and they already wanted me to send them more money. Now, I understand that the NRA does not survive without money (I'm not stupid, remember?) but if I had wanted to sign up for multiple years I would have done so. I also don't like being asked if I want a fried pie at McDonald's for the same reason and yet I understand why they ask -- because some people are schmucks!

At least twice a month I get a warm and loving personal letter from Wayne LaPierre who is the Executive Vice President of the NRA. Each one tells me how smart I am for joining and how valued I am to the association and how they could not do it without me. I'm sure a miniscule part of that is true but today's letter said that if I would just renew now that I would "save the NRA the cost of sending more notices". No (head-bob) kidding! I have a better idea. If they would just quit sending me notices it would save them money on sending me notices! And quit calling me Todd..."Dear Todd", "Thanks to you, Todd", "You're so hot, Todd! Love, Wayne" What do they think I am? A schmuck?!

Storytime in parts

--Part V--

The scene had died down outside of Ike's store with Judge Maloff and Melissa along with officer Blunt all coming to the conclusion at the same time that the real problem of the day was going to be inside the store. It seems that the violence and commotion outside was being outdone by the havoc being played out inside. The judge held his daughter behind his back while Officer Blunt approached the front door and for the second time today put his right hand on his holstered security-six.

Walter Blunt, tall and baby-faced for his twenty six years, had plans to become a veterinarian in high school but realized quickly that his grades would be a difficult hurdle to get over for such lofty plans. Serious and agreeable, Walter got along well with everybody in school including his teachers but found it hard to make more than average grades in class. He had many acquaintences but few real friends and had attended the local college with the help of his mother and with extreme effort and a couple of extra years had managed to graduate with a degree in criminal justice. He knew his mother was proud of him but he had few glories as his life's history had unfolded so far. He enjoyed the aspect of his job that involved helping people but in this quiet, quaint, quadrate little box of a community he felt his passions underutilized. That all seemed to be changing in this one moment.

Officer Blunt reached the door and looked inside. He could only see Ike's ankle and foot sticking out behind a wooden aisle filled with groceries but he could hear Ike screaming, crying, rambling incoherently and evidently doing some sort of damage to his store. Just as Blunt opened the door a worn wooden plank from the floor was pried up and tossed over the aisle nearly hitting Blunt and sending cereal boxes flying out of its path. Blunt felt himself breathing and heard himself calling the merchant's name as everything seemed unreal. Time seemed to be moving through the most narrow of hour glass as the young officer moved his body heavily around the corner.

"Ike, stop it! Aw, gee, stop it, Ike!" Blunt grabbed Ike from behind and pulled him away from the hole in the floor with Ike bringing part of a corpse with him as they both crashed into a gondola full of snacks.

"I told her to just shut up but she wouldn't do it! All day long she nagged! I told her to shut up, I told her!" cried Ike. "Even when she was dead she was loud! She wouldn't shut up! I had to do it! I had to!"

And Marilyn thought her day was bad...

just to see if i could do it

Here's a post to prove I can do it on Ambien (2hours ago). I used to live by a guy who put a 4x8 sheet of plywood in his front yard with the words, "Stay off of my lawn Mr. McGinnis!" I thought it was strange until I met McGinnis.

James 1:8

A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.

Mmm...bacon explosion

Wow! Pork with pork! I never would have thought of it. Butter me up and wrap me in a 5x5 bacon weave. Ooh! Oh! Then dip me in some jalapeno cheese sauce. It's like fat-boy p&rn.

Ecclesiastes 10:2

A wise man's heart directs him toward the right, but the foolish man's heart directs him toward the left.

Yea, what he said!

I was not expecting this from a site that is often as stupid as mine.