Life in the Country, ain’t it grand

My wife and I have spent a good deal of our lives living between the city limit signs of one metropolis or another. As urban dwellers, we found the constant rumble of noises drifting in and out as life moves along quite comforting. But the older we got, the more we found ourselves longing for the quiet country life we remembered from our childhood days. So when we decided to retire, we wanted to move to a more peaceful setting. We searched the world over and chose this small house in the southern Missouri Ozarks and settled in for a quiet country way of life.

We were greeted on our first morning of blissful country life by the neighbor’s rooster telling us that 4 hours of sleep is enough. He was quickly joined by a chorus of dogs (at least one for every house within a five-mile radius) declaring their desire to have the rooster over for breakfast. Then it was time for every mufflerless vehicle in the county to rev up their engines in preparation for the parade down our country lane. ‘The Branson Belle’, a paddle boat on the lake ten miles away blared a horn to announce that it was time for another load of tourists. The whistle from a train crossing Hwy 248 mixed with a mooing of a hundred head of cattle, a couple dozen crows, and a few hundred other species of birds rounded out the orchestra.

But as I sit here in my rocking chair on the porch. I sip my coffee and watch the sun rise above the leafless oaks and maples. I raise my cup and give a smile. Because I know I’m home.

Happy 43rd Birthday to My Oldest Son…

Joshua – 1977…
You probably don’t remember that day. Even for me it now seems like it was another universe. It was your first birthday. We called Fort Ord California home and, as it was with most Army families, we were as penniless as the winos down along the banks of the Salinas River. Your mother baked you a chocolate cake from a .29 cent box mix and decorated it with some homemade icing. We stripped you down to your diaper and sat you in your highchair while we sang birthday songs to you. You laughed as you crumbled your cake into oblivion.

Let’s Get Real People – A nation falling apart…

As earthquakes rock California, a heat wave sends record temperatures through Alaska, flood waters cover the Midwest, wildfires out of control, Russian collusion, a North Korean leader bent on world destruction, as is Iran, drought and famine in India, the U.S. democracy on the verge of total collapse, Antifa protesters promoting violence, utter chaos at our southern border as thousands of children are denied basic necessities and a congress that refuses to even agree that the president does indeed take a shit every day…what is the one thing we American worry about the most?

The damned dress that Milania Trump wore to the July 4th celebration.  

WTF people!!!!  If we do not get our heads out of our asses and demand change, we deserve everything we get.

Just my two cents worth…

Let’s Get Real People – Charred Trump on a Podium…

This is where all the little trumpeters are telling me that I’m supposed to feel sorry for our Commander in Chief because his teleprompter went on the fritz and he had to adlib sections of his speech. Now granted, there are things that I’m willing to forgive anyone that has the mentality of a 6 year old when he has to face a crowd and there are no words for him to read. A 6 year old might forget that airplanes and airports were not invented before the revolutionary war.  A 6 year old might not know that the declaration of independence was adopted on July 4th but not signed until August 2nd.  A 6 year old might not know the difference between the Revolutionary War and the War of 1812. A 6 year old might not know who Frederick Douglass was. Also, to a 6 year old, any crowd larger than a thousand people is often referred to as millions.

But the President of the United States of America and the Commander in Chief of all military branches should know these things. It wasn’t like he was boarding a plane and someone asked him these things out of the blue. How many weeks has he had to prepare for this speech?

I will give him kudos for not whipping out his phone and reading from his favorite book…See Spot Run.

So my friends, if you’re willing to concede the mental capacity of our president, I’m willing to forgive him for yet another example of a man who has no idea of what the hell he’s saying.

Just my two cents worth…

Just my two cents worth…

Let’s Get Real People – Judge says rape is ok as long as you’re from a good family…

Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce to you the winner of the ‘You’ve got to be efn kidding me trophy.’ I give you, the not so Honorable Judge James Troiano of Monmouth County Superior Court from the great state of New Hampshire.

In 2017, a 16 year old boy was accused of raping an intoxicated 16 year old girl at a party. If that wasn’t enough to have his penis whacked off with a dull knife, this Eagle Scout filmed the entire thing and circulated it across social media. At one point, even texting his buddies: “when your first time having sex was rape.” Clearly demonstrating a “sophisticated and predatory” action.

The prosecution, like any one with half a brain would agree, petitioned for this sub human to be waived in juvenile court and tried as an adult.

Alas, it was not to be… In steps our infamous judge and denied the motion. Sighting, (you’re going to think I’m lying) “the boy’s actions were not necessarily rape. Because ‘traditional’ rape cases involve ‘two or more, generally males involved either at gun point or weapon, clearly manhandling a person.”

This bean bag without stuffing went on to say that the boy should not be tried as an adult because, (I shit you not) he comes from a good family who put him into an excellent school and he was headed to a good college.

This wacko continued pulling turds out his ass with, “the girl and her family should have been told that bringing charges against the boy could have a ‘devastating effect’ on his life.

WTF you shit for brains.

I guarantee, if this boy was from a poor inner city family whose mother and father both worked two jobs just to keep food on the table, his ass would already be locked up for the rest of his life. God knows what would happen if the kid would have been African American or Hispanic.

I can only assume that this punk ass kid was going to attend the same college that good ole Troiano graduated from. Maybe his parents were members of the same country club. So I just have one question for the court. If someday you’re at the golf course and pass out from a few too many martinis and the caddy decides to stick his nine iron up your 18th hole. Is it ok? According to you, as long as he gets good grades in school and is alone while he has you bent over the golf cart.

My God, what more proof do we need? This is just another example that ‘rich white privilege’ is still running rampant across America. As long as we have old white haired men running our government, nothing will ever change.

Just my two cents worth…