Laura over at Fetch My Flying Monkeys is one of my favorite places to go. She is a hilariously funny writer and always has the coolest stuff on her sidebar; such as this little gem...
Thanks Laura, for everything!
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Occupy Wall Street BS
I've said for a long time to folks around here that the OWS crowd is made up of morons. My usual feeble attempt to convey this is by asking why is it okay to be rich if you're a sports figure or hollyweird nut-job, but the rich leaders of industry are evil?
This is usually answered with an explaination of how the sports/hollywierd-o-s have EARNED their money. (What?? Seriously?? And these people are allowed to vote and pro-create?? W.T.F?)
Newbusters has a great article that shows the top 25 supporters of OWS are worth over 4 billion bucks. They are the 1%...
This is usually answered with an explaination of how the sports/hollywierd-o-s have EARNED their money. (What?? Seriously?? And these people are allowed to vote and pro-create?? W.T.F?)
Newbusters has a great article that shows the top 25 supporters of OWS are worth over 4 billion bucks. They are the 1%...
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
WVU Salute to Military
One of the best SNCOs I've ever known and a great friend, posted this on his facebook wall. I HAD to share it. Thanks to Scott for sharing the link, and thanks to all who have served and their families for their support.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Why I Love Living Where I Do...
I took this pic a couple of days ago. The dirt mound he's on is about 50 feet from the front door. Looks like he made it through hunting season okay!
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
Boo Hoo
Boo Hoo, poor Obama was compared to Hitler... what a shame, I mean no other President was ever comapred to... wait a minute, I seem to recall GWB being called Hitler more times than I can remember.
So gee whiz Barry, how does it feel bitch?
BTW, notice the NM plates, which is a shock since NM is VERY probama...
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Ten Years
Ten years, but it still feels like yesterday. As ever, time marches on and I look back over the past decade and reflect on the changes in my life. I've been retired from the military for over six years, have not found a job that gives me satisfaction or a sense of accomplishment since. I have a low tolerance of BS and appreciate our way of life more and more. I deplore what our government has become and is doing to our great country.
I pray each day for our warriors, our country, and our way of life. I will never forget.
I wrote this years ago and use it to remember where we were and where we're going.
It started out as just another normal day; the weather was nice, not perfect, but not bad. The sky was blue with only a few high altitude clouds. It would be a full day of flying for our squadron of F-16s. Again, nothing really out of the ordinary; we had a full schedule planned and my job as the Lead Production Superintendent or Pro Super, was to ensure we had all the jets covered with appropriate mechanics. Their job was to either support the active flying or fix those that had mechanical problems. Just another day…
I spent the early morning like all others; in a meeting going over the condition and plan for each of our 27 assigned jets. Little did I or any of us know how the world was changing while we discussed aircraft status. After the meeting, I went out to my truck to get the daily work started. I was coordinating with the mechanics the who, what and where we would do that day when we had an odd radio call. “Attention all radios this net, this is the MOC (Maintenance Operations Center) with an announcement. All local flying has been cancelled; please respond with your call sign.” “Rude 1 copies” I replied but didn’t really think much about it. Cancelling flying is rare, but not uncommon in the military, but usually I have an idea of why; bad weather, an accident or something like that. This day however, I was just thankful we didn’t have to worry about flying our schedule, but could instead; focus our efforts on the several jets that needed maintenance. Boy was I in for a shock.
I still didn’t have any idea what was going on since I didn’t have the radio on. In my truck, I had to listen to two tactical radios and use my cell phone, so I didn’t play the radio. I was briefing my supervisors about the change in the schedule when another odd radio call interrupted me…”Attention all radios this net, this is the MOC with an announcement. Implement THREATCON BRAVO. I repeat implement THREATCON BRAVO. Please respond with your call sign, MOC out.” “Rude 1” I said then wondered aloud if there was an exercise I wasn’t aware of. I told my supervisors to get moving with BRAVO procedures, and then went over to a Security Policeman driving around the flightline. I asked him if he knew what was going on, but he was as clueless as I was. I couldn’t really call the MOC to ask, since they were probably eye-ball deep in what ever was happening, besides, I knew I would be briefed soon enough. Right now, we just needed to follow orders and get things done.
About ten minutes later, the Chief of Maintenance came out to my truck and started talking about smoke boiling out of the Pentagon. I thought he was talking metaphorically, you know, I pictured all the Generals with smoke coming out of their ears as they worked some issue. I still didn’t know. Then he talked about the crash into the WTC. “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. “You haven’t heard? Where have you been?” he asked. Out here doing my job, now what the hell is going on?” He told me we were under attack. I couldn’t comprehend what he was telling me, so I went into our ready room and saw the images of the second plane flying into the south tower. I was stunned for about 20 seconds, then knew we needed to get focused and be ready for whatever tasking we would receive.
I immediately called my supervisors together and had them round everyone up and form them up in the hangar. I needed to talk to them. I don’t really remember what I said, but it was along the lines of “Our country is under attack. We need to put our personal thoughts and feelings aside and focus on what we’re trained to do.” “Anyone with family in NYC or Washington, get with your supervisors after the brief.” “I know you’re worried about them, but I’m sure you won’t be able to get through to them for a day or two, so try to contact them, but don’t focus on it.” I told them to focus on what we needed to do to get our jets combat ready. We’re trained and ready, let’s show them so when the commanders start looking for jets; we’re right at the top, ready to roll.
I told the supervisors to keep an extra eye on anyone with family in the area, not to let happening. I told them to let everyone take breaks when they needed to get updated on what was happening, but to make sure they didn’t forsake their jobs. I didn’t need to worry since our biggest problem was getting folks to take breaks; no one wanted to stop working. Those men and women, some no more than pimple faced kids, had to be ordered to eat or rest. These people were (ARE) DEDICATED. I was so proud of each and every one of them, and humbled to have been leading them.
We got our jets ready and were standing at the ready, wondering what our tasking would be. Since I was the Lead Pro Super, I had to attend the pilots briefing to let them know what the status of our fleet was. As I sat there, listening to the latest intel I couldn’t help but feel for the first time in my life, that I was glad I wasn’t a fighter pilot. I looked at their faces as they were briefed on the possibility and rules of engagement of engaging and firing on an unarmed airliner. I couldn’t read their expressions, but know they had to be conflicted inside. I know they would have performed their duty had they been tasked, but was praying they wouldn’t have to. Thank God they didn’t.
The rest of the day was a mixture of meetings, giving and taking orders, and praying. Praying for the victims, praying for our leaders, praying for those who would be asked to go into harms way. Yes, it was only a few hours since the towers fell, but I know we would be sending folks into harms way.
Later that night, after working a 17 hour day, I was able to call my wife. She was on her Air National Guard weekend and 500 miles from home. She told me they had been on a C-130 getting ready to fly a training mission, when they suddenly shut down the engines and told to get off the plane and return to their squadron. After they were briefed, they went into action putting together emergency response kits (her unit is and Aeromedical Evacuation Squadron) and verifying everyone’s qualifications in case they were called to help. She too had a very long day and told me the folks in her squadron were just as dedicated and focused as mine were. I had no doubt about that; the people who serve, whether active duty or Guard or Reserve, are a patriotic, dedicated, honorable population. I’m humbled to be in their company.
While talking with my wife that night, we finally allowed ourselves to grieve. We cried on each others shoulder, even though it was over a phone line. We prayed together. We cried together. We comforted each other.
Since that day, we keep the victims, their families, and those in harms way in our daily prayers. We refuse to forget; please don’t forget either.
I pray each day for our warriors, our country, and our way of life. I will never forget.
I wrote this years ago and use it to remember where we were and where we're going.
It started out as just another normal day; the weather was nice, not perfect, but not bad. The sky was blue with only a few high altitude clouds. It would be a full day of flying for our squadron of F-16s. Again, nothing really out of the ordinary; we had a full schedule planned and my job as the Lead Production Superintendent or Pro Super, was to ensure we had all the jets covered with appropriate mechanics. Their job was to either support the active flying or fix those that had mechanical problems. Just another day…
I spent the early morning like all others; in a meeting going over the condition and plan for each of our 27 assigned jets. Little did I or any of us know how the world was changing while we discussed aircraft status. After the meeting, I went out to my truck to get the daily work started. I was coordinating with the mechanics the who, what and where we would do that day when we had an odd radio call. “Attention all radios this net, this is the MOC (Maintenance Operations Center) with an announcement. All local flying has been cancelled; please respond with your call sign.” “Rude 1 copies” I replied but didn’t really think much about it. Cancelling flying is rare, but not uncommon in the military, but usually I have an idea of why; bad weather, an accident or something like that. This day however, I was just thankful we didn’t have to worry about flying our schedule, but could instead; focus our efforts on the several jets that needed maintenance. Boy was I in for a shock.
I still didn’t have any idea what was going on since I didn’t have the radio on. In my truck, I had to listen to two tactical radios and use my cell phone, so I didn’t play the radio. I was briefing my supervisors about the change in the schedule when another odd radio call interrupted me…”Attention all radios this net, this is the MOC with an announcement. Implement THREATCON BRAVO. I repeat implement THREATCON BRAVO. Please respond with your call sign, MOC out.” “Rude 1” I said then wondered aloud if there was an exercise I wasn’t aware of. I told my supervisors to get moving with BRAVO procedures, and then went over to a Security Policeman driving around the flightline. I asked him if he knew what was going on, but he was as clueless as I was. I couldn’t really call the MOC to ask, since they were probably eye-ball deep in what ever was happening, besides, I knew I would be briefed soon enough. Right now, we just needed to follow orders and get things done.
About ten minutes later, the Chief of Maintenance came out to my truck and started talking about smoke boiling out of the Pentagon. I thought he was talking metaphorically, you know, I pictured all the Generals with smoke coming out of their ears as they worked some issue. I still didn’t know. Then he talked about the crash into the WTC. “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. “You haven’t heard? Where have you been?” he asked. Out here doing my job, now what the hell is going on?” He told me we were under attack. I couldn’t comprehend what he was telling me, so I went into our ready room and saw the images of the second plane flying into the south tower. I was stunned for about 20 seconds, then knew we needed to get focused and be ready for whatever tasking we would receive.
I immediately called my supervisors together and had them round everyone up and form them up in the hangar. I needed to talk to them. I don’t really remember what I said, but it was along the lines of “Our country is under attack. We need to put our personal thoughts and feelings aside and focus on what we’re trained to do.” “Anyone with family in NYC or Washington, get with your supervisors after the brief.” “I know you’re worried about them, but I’m sure you won’t be able to get through to them for a day or two, so try to contact them, but don’t focus on it.” I told them to focus on what we needed to do to get our jets combat ready. We’re trained and ready, let’s show them so when the commanders start looking for jets; we’re right at the top, ready to roll.
I told the supervisors to keep an extra eye on anyone with family in the area, not to let happening. I told them to let everyone take breaks when they needed to get updated on what was happening, but to make sure they didn’t forsake their jobs. I didn’t need to worry since our biggest problem was getting folks to take breaks; no one wanted to stop working. Those men and women, some no more than pimple faced kids, had to be ordered to eat or rest. These people were (ARE) DEDICATED. I was so proud of each and every one of them, and humbled to have been leading them.
We got our jets ready and were standing at the ready, wondering what our tasking would be. Since I was the Lead Pro Super, I had to attend the pilots briefing to let them know what the status of our fleet was. As I sat there, listening to the latest intel I couldn’t help but feel for the first time in my life, that I was glad I wasn’t a fighter pilot. I looked at their faces as they were briefed on the possibility and rules of engagement of engaging and firing on an unarmed airliner. I couldn’t read their expressions, but know they had to be conflicted inside. I know they would have performed their duty had they been tasked, but was praying they wouldn’t have to. Thank God they didn’t.
The rest of the day was a mixture of meetings, giving and taking orders, and praying. Praying for the victims, praying for our leaders, praying for those who would be asked to go into harms way. Yes, it was only a few hours since the towers fell, but I know we would be sending folks into harms way.
Later that night, after working a 17 hour day, I was able to call my wife. She was on her Air National Guard weekend and 500 miles from home. She told me they had been on a C-130 getting ready to fly a training mission, when they suddenly shut down the engines and told to get off the plane and return to their squadron. After they were briefed, they went into action putting together emergency response kits (her unit is and Aeromedical Evacuation Squadron) and verifying everyone’s qualifications in case they were called to help. She too had a very long day and told me the folks in her squadron were just as dedicated and focused as mine were. I had no doubt about that; the people who serve, whether active duty or Guard or Reserve, are a patriotic, dedicated, honorable population. I’m humbled to be in their company.
While talking with my wife that night, we finally allowed ourselves to grieve. We cried on each others shoulder, even though it was over a phone line. We prayed together. We cried together. We comforted each other.
Since that day, we keep the victims, their families, and those in harms way in our daily prayers. We refuse to forget; please don’t forget either.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
The Ultimate Friend
I wish we never had to lose another of America's finest, but know that until the job is done, stories like this will keep coming up.
God Bless our warriors and their families. Have a tissue ready...
Dogs really are man's best friend and I hope Hawkeye finds peace someday. My prayers are with Jon Tomulison's family as well as all who died in that horrible attack.
God Bless our warriors and their families. Have a tissue ready...
Dogs really are man's best friend and I hope Hawkeye finds peace someday. My prayers are with Jon Tomulison's family as well as all who died in that horrible attack.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Once again the gubmint is trying to "fix" it's financial woes on the backs of those who serve the greater good. I'll fight this proposal tooth and nail to the end. Military members have to serve honorably for 20 years to be eligible for their retirement and they do so in far off and oftentimes hostile environments. They have earned their retirement.
Now, if Congress is willing to forgo their retirements (which they are eligible for after a mere 5 years) then we can start to talk, until then, I say this to our elected officials: Keep your fucking hands OFF military retirement.
Military members who complete 20 years of honorable service are eligible for 40% of the average of their last 3 years pay, with a 2.5% increase for each year after 20. So if a person serves 25 years, they are eligible for 52.5% of the average of their final three years of pay. To be eligible for 80%, a member has to serve for 36 years. In comparison, the starting amount for a member of congress' retirement annuity may not exceed 80% of their final pay. Remember, congress is eligible for their retirement after only 5 years; oh yeah, and they are not in harms way.
Now, if Congress is willing to forgo their retirements (which they are eligible for after a mere 5 years) then we can start to talk, until then, I say this to our elected officials: Keep your fucking hands OFF military retirement.
Military members who complete 20 years of honorable service are eligible for 40% of the average of their last 3 years pay, with a 2.5% increase for each year after 20. So if a person serves 25 years, they are eligible for 52.5% of the average of their final three years of pay. To be eligible for 80%, a member has to serve for 36 years. In comparison, the starting amount for a member of congress' retirement annuity may not exceed 80% of their final pay. Remember, congress is eligible for their retirement after only 5 years; oh yeah, and they are not in harms way.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
He Has My Attention...
Herman Cain has definately gotten my attention lately. He's saying things I've said for years and so far, he's making alot of sense.
It's way too early to tell who I'll support, but right now I'm leaning towards Mr. Cain.
I'll keep you posted!
It's way too early to tell who I'll support, but right now I'm leaning towards Mr. Cain.
I'll keep you posted!
Friday, May 13, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
It's Not Unusual...
I'm sure many of you have seen this, but I can't help myself! I had to post it. I. Had. To. ;)
Tuesday, May 03, 2011
I Hope I'm Wrong
So now it starts...
I hope I’m wrong, but I foresee the writing on the wall. The leftist bleeding hearts are going to start putting pressure on SEAL Team Six for killing OBL instead of capturing him. I hope to hell these warriors are not scapegoated and charged with murder, as so often seems to happen.
It seems to me, as an admitted pessimist when it comes to this administration and the MSM, that ground work is being laid to vilify yet again our great military. I hope I’m wrong.
Keep an eye on this folks and stand ready to defend the SEALs if necessary.
I hope I’m wrong, but I foresee the writing on the wall. The leftist bleeding hearts are going to start putting pressure on SEAL Team Six for killing OBL instead of capturing him. I hope to hell these warriors are not scapegoated and charged with murder, as so often seems to happen.
It seems to me, as an admitted pessimist when it comes to this administration and the MSM, that ground work is being laid to vilify yet again our great military. I hope I’m wrong.
Keep an eye on this folks and stand ready to defend the SEALs if necessary.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
My dear friend Cara wrote a nice little piece about Queen Elizabeth and it made me think of the two years I lived in England, and my feelings about the country and the Royals. I suppose I am an anglophile. I loved living in England and most everything I came in contact with there.
I remember being shocked at warm beer served in the pubs, and now, almost 25 years since my first pint, I still can’t stand most American beer.
My wonderful wife still doesn’t understand why I love British comedies; she just doesn’t get the humor. I personally can’t stand the American version of “The Office”, but will roll on the floor watching my dvds of the original British version. Sheila knows what I’m talking about there!
As for the Royals; I’ve always admired Queen Elizabeth. If her actions during WWII weren’t enough, then the way she has served her nation as Queen speak volumes of her character. I don’t necessarily agree with a monarchy per se, but I do respect how she has handled her position.
I remember being given the day off of work for Charles and Diana’s wedding, so a few of us went down to London town to check it out. WOW Talk about pomp and circumstance! I can’t even begin to describe the atmosphere that day. Of course, we were young GIs loose on the big town, so there were a lot of pints involved, so a lot of the day was lost…
I remember being in London on July 20th, 1982 when the IRA detonated two bombs killing four members of the Blues and Royals, seven of their horses, seven members of the Royal Green Jackets, and injuring over 50 others; both civilian and military. We had left Hyde Park an hour or so before the explosion, and learned of it when we entered a pub. The carnage we saw that day on the “telly” in that pub still stick in my mind.
I’ve visited England several times over the years, and I never get tired of it. As a self-proclaimed history buff, I love touring the country and just experiencing it. I still remember being 19 years old, standing at Warwick Castle and suddenly realizing how lucky I was to be a hick cowboy from a small mountain town in Colorado, and actually seeing places I learned about in high school history. Many people I went to school with still to this day, have rarely traveled outside our valley, let alone clear across the Atlantic.
I remember being shocked at warm beer served in the pubs, and now, almost 25 years since my first pint, I still can’t stand most American beer.
My wonderful wife still doesn’t understand why I love British comedies; she just doesn’t get the humor. I personally can’t stand the American version of “The Office”, but will roll on the floor watching my dvds of the original British version. Sheila knows what I’m talking about there!
As for the Royals; I’ve always admired Queen Elizabeth. If her actions during WWII weren’t enough, then the way she has served her nation as Queen speak volumes of her character. I don’t necessarily agree with a monarchy per se, but I do respect how she has handled her position.
I remember being given the day off of work for Charles and Diana’s wedding, so a few of us went down to London town to check it out. WOW Talk about pomp and circumstance! I can’t even begin to describe the atmosphere that day. Of course, we were young GIs loose on the big town, so there were a lot of pints involved, so a lot of the day was lost…
I remember being in London on July 20th, 1982 when the IRA detonated two bombs killing four members of the Blues and Royals, seven of their horses, seven members of the Royal Green Jackets, and injuring over 50 others; both civilian and military. We had left Hyde Park an hour or so before the explosion, and learned of it when we entered a pub. The carnage we saw that day on the “telly” in that pub still stick in my mind.
I’ve visited England several times over the years, and I never get tired of it. As a self-proclaimed history buff, I love touring the country and just experiencing it. I still remember being 19 years old, standing at Warwick Castle and suddenly realizing how lucky I was to be a hick cowboy from a small mountain town in Colorado, and actually seeing places I learned about in high school history. Many people I went to school with still to this day, have rarely traveled outside our valley, let alone clear across the Atlantic.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Basic Finances for Government Idiots
I just don’t get it. Do our elected officials really think we the American people are stupid? Granted, by our own actions we’ve help perpetrate that idea by continually, year after year, allowing them to get away with their lies. We allow them to spout worthless platitudes that sound good, but don’t say anything of substance. Then we allow them to keep right on passing legislation that puts our nation further and further in debt and at risk.
The most important lesson I ever learned was to think critically. To LISTEN and analyze what is being said; to look beyond the words and find what is really being said.
For example, when president O says that “We cannot continue to spend more than we bring in…” I know what he’s saying is “raise taxes”; not “let’s reduce our spending”. And we keep letting them do it to us!
I wish I could get away with that sort of mentality. “Hey boss, I’m spending more than I make, so I need you to give me more money.” Hey, that should work right?
For those of you like me who are feeling the pinch of $4 + a gallon of fuel and rising costs on just about every conceivable consumable, without an increase in wages, we’ve had to make some adjustments to our budgets. I’m spending less. I’m doing without certain things and trying to be as efficient as possible.
What I HAVEN’T done is borrow more money to offset the increased living expenses. In other words, I haven’t raised my debt ceiling.
I’m not surprised that president O’s first and seemingly only reaction is to increase the government’s income. He did the same thing during his campaign; whenever funds were slowing down or lacking, he just went out and stroked the sheep to give him more money. He raised over $745 MILLION dollars (with vast amounts from questionable sources) for his campaign, nearly double what McCain raised. The point is, it never occurs to him to adjust spending, just go get more money!
Sorry Mr. president, but you can’t just keep telling us to give give and then give some more. You need to make dramatic and drastic cuts to spending if we’re ever going to get out of this mess.
How about this Mr. president; ask all the non-producing citizens (and especially non-citizens who are getting benefits from Uncle Sam) to give a little. Have them give up some freebies that us producers are paying for.
They talk about the evil corporations and how they’re sending jobs overseas or paying very little in taxes. They rely on our ambivalence or ignorance to not ask why corporations are doing these things. Because our elected leaders have hobbled them with so many regulations that they can’t afford NOT to send jobs overseas, or that THEY are the ones who wrote the tax codes, GIVING the corporations LEGAL loopholes to reduce their tax liability. Who’s really to blame?
And why is it that when they raise taxes on the “rich”, my taxes still seem to go up? Hmmmm, interesting phenomenon.
I’m by no means the smartest guy around, but I listen and think for myself. I ask questions instead of blindly accepting what is being said.
WARNING Adult Language Ahead
It’s time to quit fucking around and pull your head out of your ass Mr. president, and everyone on Capitol Hill. Stop fucking lying to me; I’m smarter than you think. Be a leader and make some tough calls for once. If you’re not willing to do that, then take your ass back to Chicago and go organize a community or two.
The most important lesson I ever learned was to think critically. To LISTEN and analyze what is being said; to look beyond the words and find what is really being said.
For example, when president O says that “We cannot continue to spend more than we bring in…” I know what he’s saying is “raise taxes”; not “let’s reduce our spending”. And we keep letting them do it to us!
I wish I could get away with that sort of mentality. “Hey boss, I’m spending more than I make, so I need you to give me more money.” Hey, that should work right?
For those of you like me who are feeling the pinch of $4 + a gallon of fuel and rising costs on just about every conceivable consumable, without an increase in wages, we’ve had to make some adjustments to our budgets. I’m spending less. I’m doing without certain things and trying to be as efficient as possible.
What I HAVEN’T done is borrow more money to offset the increased living expenses. In other words, I haven’t raised my debt ceiling.
I’m not surprised that president O’s first and seemingly only reaction is to increase the government’s income. He did the same thing during his campaign; whenever funds were slowing down or lacking, he just went out and stroked the sheep to give him more money. He raised over $745 MILLION dollars (with vast amounts from questionable sources) for his campaign, nearly double what McCain raised. The point is, it never occurs to him to adjust spending, just go get more money!
Sorry Mr. president, but you can’t just keep telling us to give give and then give some more. You need to make dramatic and drastic cuts to spending if we’re ever going to get out of this mess.
How about this Mr. president; ask all the non-producing citizens (and especially non-citizens who are getting benefits from Uncle Sam) to give a little. Have them give up some freebies that us producers are paying for.
They talk about the evil corporations and how they’re sending jobs overseas or paying very little in taxes. They rely on our ambivalence or ignorance to not ask why corporations are doing these things. Because our elected leaders have hobbled them with so many regulations that they can’t afford NOT to send jobs overseas, or that THEY are the ones who wrote the tax codes, GIVING the corporations LEGAL loopholes to reduce their tax liability. Who’s really to blame?
And why is it that when they raise taxes on the “rich”, my taxes still seem to go up? Hmmmm, interesting phenomenon.
I’m by no means the smartest guy around, but I listen and think for myself. I ask questions instead of blindly accepting what is being said.
WARNING Adult Language Ahead
It’s time to quit fucking around and pull your head out of your ass Mr. president, and everyone on Capitol Hill. Stop fucking lying to me; I’m smarter than you think. Be a leader and make some tough calls for once. If you’re not willing to do that, then take your ass back to Chicago and go organize a community or two.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Patrick the Pitbull
I meant to post this the other day when I first heard about it, but time and other things got away from me again (yeah, big shock there!).
Time and time again I’m reminded why I have such little faith in the human race. More often than not, I think I’d be so much happier if I could close off my life from the rest of the world and just live my life with my animals and a (very) select few other people. I know the few readers of my blog will agree with me that this story is beyond words. I’m so angry that it’s a damn good thing that Kisha Curtis lives in New Jersey and not anywhere near the Rude1 Ranch, since firearms are plenty around here.
I’ve never been a real fan of pitbulls, simply because my canine companions are generally of the working dog or retriever breeds. However, I know that pitbull’s generally get an unfounded bad rap simply because of the idiot humans who abuse them and train them to be violent. Plus the media inflates bad press about the breed and fuels more fear of them. This breed, more than any other, has suffered severely from misinformation.
No matter your feelings about pitbulls, this story should piss you off beyond measure. No creature deserves this horrific treatment. I wouldn’t have blamed this dog if he was afraid of and/or violent towards people after how he was abused. Thankfully, he appears to recognize the love and care he is finally getting and isn’t harboring any ill will, however, time will tell.
I can hardly look at the pictures and videos without tearing up and seeing the red rage. I was almost physically ill the first time I saw the pictures. Words can’t describe the magnitude of my anger towards the piece of shit who did this to that poor dog.
Heros come in all shapes and sizes, in all kinds of places. We usually think heros are our military, law enforcement, fire fighters and medical professionals; and rightly so. However, the garbageman who took the time to look into the garbage bag and call the authorities is a hero to me, as well as the staff taking care of Patrick.
**UPDATE**
Patrick Seems to be doing quite well, all things considered, under the loving care he is recieving. He still has a long way to go, but he is a fighter in the good sense of the word. His pictures show what a special little guy he is.
Thank you to those caring for him so well, and to all who wish him well.
Oh and I see the piece of Shite (my Scots coming out) Kisha Curtis is out on $1,000 bail. I hope they throw the book at her and then smack her in the head with it.
Time and time again I’m reminded why I have such little faith in the human race. More often than not, I think I’d be so much happier if I could close off my life from the rest of the world and just live my life with my animals and a (very) select few other people. I know the few readers of my blog will agree with me that this story is beyond words. I’m so angry that it’s a damn good thing that Kisha Curtis lives in New Jersey and not anywhere near the Rude1 Ranch, since firearms are plenty around here.
I’ve never been a real fan of pitbulls, simply because my canine companions are generally of the working dog or retriever breeds. However, I know that pitbull’s generally get an unfounded bad rap simply because of the idiot humans who abuse them and train them to be violent. Plus the media inflates bad press about the breed and fuels more fear of them. This breed, more than any other, has suffered severely from misinformation.
No matter your feelings about pitbulls, this story should piss you off beyond measure. No creature deserves this horrific treatment. I wouldn’t have blamed this dog if he was afraid of and/or violent towards people after how he was abused. Thankfully, he appears to recognize the love and care he is finally getting and isn’t harboring any ill will, however, time will tell.
I can hardly look at the pictures and videos without tearing up and seeing the red rage. I was almost physically ill the first time I saw the pictures. Words can’t describe the magnitude of my anger towards the piece of shit who did this to that poor dog.
Heros come in all shapes and sizes, in all kinds of places. We usually think heros are our military, law enforcement, fire fighters and medical professionals; and rightly so. However, the garbageman who took the time to look into the garbage bag and call the authorities is a hero to me, as well as the staff taking care of Patrick.
**UPDATE**
Patrick Seems to be doing quite well, all things considered, under the loving care he is recieving. He still has a long way to go, but he is a fighter in the good sense of the word. His pictures show what a special little guy he is.
Thank you to those caring for him so well, and to all who wish him well.
Oh and I see the piece of Shite (my Scots coming out) Kisha Curtis is out on $1,000 bail. I hope they throw the book at her and then smack her in the head with it.
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Amazing: Channing Moss and the RPG
I found this link through Broadside and had to share it. There are graphic images so be forewarned; however, I dare anyone, even all you steely-eyed warriors out there to not shed a few tears.
God Bless our brothers and sisters in harms way. Thank God for our military medical professionals, and everyone who helped save this fine young warrior.
God Bless our brothers and sisters in harms way. Thank God for our military medical professionals, and everyone who helped save this fine young warrior.
Tuesday, February 01, 2011
Horse Crap
Greetings from the West dear friends! Evidently, I’ve severely neglected this ole blog for quite some time. Sadly, life does get in the way, and I guess I don’t think most of my ramblings warrant posting. Oh well, who gives a shit anyway right?
Actually, I thought that winter would bring things at work to a crawl since the farmers can’t do much, but not so! We’ve been super busy and even behind a bit, so I’m pushing the guys hard to get caught up before planting season.
We’ve been pretty lucky in the winter weather department this year; very little snow except up in the high(er) country. I say higher because the ole Rude1 homestead sits just over 9,000’. We’ve also had fairly decent temps this year, with only a few really cold days and nights. Much nicer than the -28 for months we had the last couple of years. I know the farmers want more snow, but I’m just happy I don’t have to plow every other day.
So I was reading BR’s blog the other day and he mentioned how Smokey was being a bit of a pain for the farrier. Well, I suppose I should have paid better attention because my mare and I had a little disagreement on Sunday as I was trying to pull her shoes and trim her feet.
I really should know better since she has always been a bit finicky about having her feet done, but usually she just pulls a bit and tries to step on my feet, then quiets down and lets me do what I have to do. Things were going well at first, she was well behaved as I pulled her front shoes and trimmed her hooves. Things started going south when I started on her hinds. First, she kept pulling her foot out of my hands and stomping her hind feet. We went back and forth a few times like this with her showing her impatience and me talking and rubbing her till she let me pick them back up. Finally, she kicked me in the calf as I was pulling her left rear shoe. Well now, we can’t have that so I went and longed her around for about 10 minutes. She was bucking and showing her dislike for a few minutes, then calmed down and did what she was supposed to. She was listening and obeying my commands like she always does, so I figured she was ready to finish her feet. Boy was I wrong!
I went back to working on her left hind when she pulled her foot out again and tried to kick me. So back to longing we go. I worked her to the left for about 10 minutes and she did perfect. Just as I started her to the right, she came in close and was crowding me. As I stepped back away from her, she kicked back and caught me right below the ribcage, dead on. Now I’d like to tell you that I cowboyed up and ignored the pain while getting her back under control, but that would be a damn lie gentle reader. The fact is, I don’t care who you are, when a horse kicks you full on in the stomach, you go sailing back flat on your back as you curl up into a little ball sucking for air. The good news is that she didn’t catch me directly in the ribs, but the bottom rib on my left side is either cracked or at least severely bruised. Who cares, there isn’t much you can do for it either way, so why go get an x-ray? I can tell it isn’t broken so I’m just taking it a little easy for a while.
In hindsight, I should have known better. She is notorious for being picky about her feet. Usually, it’s just a little inconvenient, but I think that since she’s been in the pasture all winter with little to do, and with the weather starting to get really nice (that is until today) she is getting a bit of spring fever. My wife was upset at my mare but I reminded her what Jeanette Walls wrote in Half Broke Horses; she was just being a horse and really it was my fault. Besides, by the time I was able to get back up and figure out I wasn’t seriously hurt, too much time had passed to correct the mare as she wouldn’t understand the why she was being corrected. Not to worry, we’re going to spend a lot of time teaching her to be more respectful.
So now you know the latest news from the Rude1 Ranch. I’m a bit sore, but none the worse for wear. The mare is running around the pasture with half a pedicure, but we’ll finish that up once I can bend over again.
Actually, I thought that winter would bring things at work to a crawl since the farmers can’t do much, but not so! We’ve been super busy and even behind a bit, so I’m pushing the guys hard to get caught up before planting season.
We’ve been pretty lucky in the winter weather department this year; very little snow except up in the high(er) country. I say higher because the ole Rude1 homestead sits just over 9,000’. We’ve also had fairly decent temps this year, with only a few really cold days and nights. Much nicer than the -28 for months we had the last couple of years. I know the farmers want more snow, but I’m just happy I don’t have to plow every other day.
So I was reading BR’s blog the other day and he mentioned how Smokey was being a bit of a pain for the farrier. Well, I suppose I should have paid better attention because my mare and I had a little disagreement on Sunday as I was trying to pull her shoes and trim her feet.
I really should know better since she has always been a bit finicky about having her feet done, but usually she just pulls a bit and tries to step on my feet, then quiets down and lets me do what I have to do. Things were going well at first, she was well behaved as I pulled her front shoes and trimmed her hooves. Things started going south when I started on her hinds. First, she kept pulling her foot out of my hands and stomping her hind feet. We went back and forth a few times like this with her showing her impatience and me talking and rubbing her till she let me pick them back up. Finally, she kicked me in the calf as I was pulling her left rear shoe. Well now, we can’t have that so I went and longed her around for about 10 minutes. She was bucking and showing her dislike for a few minutes, then calmed down and did what she was supposed to. She was listening and obeying my commands like she always does, so I figured she was ready to finish her feet. Boy was I wrong!
I went back to working on her left hind when she pulled her foot out again and tried to kick me. So back to longing we go. I worked her to the left for about 10 minutes and she did perfect. Just as I started her to the right, she came in close and was crowding me. As I stepped back away from her, she kicked back and caught me right below the ribcage, dead on. Now I’d like to tell you that I cowboyed up and ignored the pain while getting her back under control, but that would be a damn lie gentle reader. The fact is, I don’t care who you are, when a horse kicks you full on in the stomach, you go sailing back flat on your back as you curl up into a little ball sucking for air. The good news is that she didn’t catch me directly in the ribs, but the bottom rib on my left side is either cracked or at least severely bruised. Who cares, there isn’t much you can do for it either way, so why go get an x-ray? I can tell it isn’t broken so I’m just taking it a little easy for a while.
In hindsight, I should have known better. She is notorious for being picky about her feet. Usually, it’s just a little inconvenient, but I think that since she’s been in the pasture all winter with little to do, and with the weather starting to get really nice (that is until today) she is getting a bit of spring fever. My wife was upset at my mare but I reminded her what Jeanette Walls wrote in Half Broke Horses; she was just being a horse and really it was my fault. Besides, by the time I was able to get back up and figure out I wasn’t seriously hurt, too much time had passed to correct the mare as she wouldn’t understand the why she was being corrected. Not to worry, we’re going to spend a lot of time teaching her to be more respectful.
So now you know the latest news from the Rude1 Ranch. I’m a bit sore, but none the worse for wear. The mare is running around the pasture with half a pedicure, but we’ll finish that up once I can bend over again.
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