Pure entertainment Archive

Our Representatives are a Bunch of Scallywags!

Posted January 19, 2016 By Gospel

side4Gun Control is another way our government is dialing for our dollars!

Isn’t it interesting concerning the originality of the word “filibuster?” In the 1600s, the word was used in many languages and referred to those individuals who were pirates. You had the captain of a vessel, the quartermaster, who provided a balance of power in managing a crew, and the crewmen themselves; all known as filibusters. They were pirates. It wasn’t until the 1860s when the word took on a legislative tone and the light began to shine on the scurvy who called themselves representatives of the people. And then they let the piracy begin.

The earlier use identified filibusters as basically a bunch of robbers of merchant ships at sea. Today, the term is also used primarily in the US Senate to describe one party pirating another party’s efforts to get around the will of the majority of US citizens or passing something because that one party just so happens to be in power at the moment but can’t put together the 60 votes needed to ram something down our throats like Obamacare. The democrats didn’t have the 60 votes but they played games with the rules to get it passed – it was criminal but since they are immune from recrimination since they control the ethics committee; they got off scot free.  Just like what happens when the Captain on a pirate ship has all the power and no quartermaster to hold him in check. But in our case the Democrats mutinied with the Captain’s help to change from being privateers to pirates of our economy. Given the chance, the republicans will do the same.

Usually, governments would hire privateers to go after other ships “legally” to control shipping or take down pirates. It was like a contract for service just like building roads today. While out there on the open seas, the privateers where taken over by a type of scurvy called greed, had a meeting of the crew and they all voted to go rouge, become pirates, keeping all the booty for themselves. They divided the booty amongst themselves and the government of the people and by the people got cheated and no pot holes got filled. The only difference to this story is the booty is made up of our tax dollars which does less and less work for us every day; just mostly for them. These privateers get themselves elected so they can go to Washington, D. C. where they decide to become pirates since everyone else is doing it.

A lot of good citizens send their money in early because they just don’t know any better. The government holds it for up to a year in their coffers so they can start raiding it right away. The good citizen goes without, then files his taxes and gets a big chunk back in the mail. It amounts to a loan to the government with no interest. When the government comes up short with their play booty, they borrow from the Chinese and pay an interest rate by using our money, not theirs. If you don’t send in your money early, you will be fined for not sending in enough money ahead of time for them to pirate. If you fail to pay your taxes on time when you do owe, you get fined. If you set it up on payments you pay interest. These pirates have got us coming and going.

There are a ton of the examples of how they suck us dry. If I lose $6000 in one year trying to invest in the stock market to make extra money, they don’t let me deduct the whole amount as a loss. They will only let me have a deduction for $3000. They want to hold the rest over for a year and then let me deduct the second $3000 the following year. So I have to pay taxes on the $3000 they disallowed as a loss this year. If I lose $30,000 in a crashing market that they probably caused by their mismanagement of our tax dollars, it will take me 10 years to recoup that loss. But, If by chance next year I make $50,000, they will let me claim my accrued loss from prior years. That sounds like a good deal, right? But it usually doesn’t work that way. The market usually comes back slowly over several years and I make a little each year. I am still only permitted to claim $3000 of that major loss each year. I will be paying taxes again on the lost money each year until I catch up. Sounds like a case of the Ponzi scurvy; only taking vitamin C won’t protect me this time.

We are about to get another tax rammed at us. They want to begin a gun control system where every gun in America is registered. In most cases right now across the country, only the purchaser of a gun has to go through a background check at the time of purchase. As long as they can pass the check they can buy as many guns as they want. Many of these purchasers are straw purchasers for drug dealers, gang members and any other type of criminal you can think of. Drug dealers give the addict a small hit, send them into a gun shop to pass a check and then walk out with several guns of the exact same make. It is then the addict gets the rest of his hit. Some are just guys and girls from rural states buying guns for $100 bucks a piece, removing the serial numbers and then driving them to New York City, Chicago or Los Angeles where they sell them on a street corner for $500-$600 apiece. They are gun runners like rum runners or moonshiners. None of which the government has ever been able to control. If the government begins limiting guns, then the price will go up for illegal guns because the government caused a shortage. Supply and demand is the name of the game. If the price goes up then there are those who will find a way to fill the demand because there is so much more money to be gained.

The government doesn’t really care about the death of innocent children at places like Sandy Hook. Like they say, “never let a crisis go to waste.” This is an opportunity to get people stirred up emotionally, play like you are doing something about Sandy Hook, and come up with a new system of taxation. There are approximately 260 million registered cars on the road today but there are probably that many in junk yards, parked in garages or just standing idle in the backyard, front yard or out in the field gathering rust; all of which are not registered.

But at least we can see them. Guns are in just about every closet in America hidden behind a ton of junk cloths no one ever wears. They are in gun safes and cabinets and under millions of mattresses. There are interestingly enough, about 250 million of them – about the same as cars. But cars wear out; guns do not.  There are about 16 million guns sold each year according to the number of background checks. But people are always doing private sells between each other to get extra money to live on. They supposedly found out through surveys that there are about 50 million households with guns. But each time gun control comes up as an issue, the number of households with guns drops in those surveys. So if guns don’t wear out for about 50 years and there are 16 million being bought each year at gun shops, I would be willing to bet that there are a bunch more guns out there no one knows about except the owners who won’t admit it for fear of some form of reprisal. They just lie on the surveys for so many reasons. If you buy a gun for safety purposes, why tell anyone who asks the question over the phone, whether you have one. It defeats the purpose. Duh!

So let’s get back to the expenses on owning a handgun. A prime example is New York. You might pay upwards of $300 dollars for the purchase of a gun. Those are revolvers where you have to hand fill the revolver 6 times after firing all six rounds. Semiautomatics come with magazines and clips that you can load infinitely prior to any firing, depending on how many clips you have and how many you can carry on your person at one time. Those guns are upwards of $800. But then the state comes into the picture. New York wants $340 for the application fee and $94 to $105 for taking fingerprints depending on the method. The gang members get a better deal buying a handgun off the street at $500. Nobody knows and nobody cares. There are 11,000 homicides by handguns in the US each year, and 9000 are black on black homicides with illegal guns. The deaths are predominately in black neighborhoods, mostly very young kids, in states that have the strictest gun laws and fee systems run by democrats but have the most killings with illegal guns. They do not care about the deaths; or they would fix that problem. In Brazil, they cleaned out an entire neighborhood infested with guns and gangs to prepare for the Olympics coming to town. It can be done.

Our government wants any money that can be had to be had. They want to do what they always do – find ways to milk the private sector for as much as they can get. And gun registration is the golden goose – the ship on the high seas that is loaded up to the mast with tons of gold ripe to be taken by the modern pirates of the day. They are after the fees. They are already taxing our liquor, want to legalize marijuana so they can tax that and they tax every car annually.They charge you $400 for a passport and now they want just about that much for every gun you own. They already tax the gun companies on their income. Then they charge gun shop owners a fee for a license to operate and now they want to tax each gun owner for each gun they own. I wonder if they are going to give me a discount if I own 10 guns; or at least put me on a payment plan over several years so I can pay these fees. The kids will have to do without for a while since I need to feed the government first.

They do not know where all 260 million guns are at, who owns them or even how to start the “taxation process.” So they will just begin with new gun sales, scare those who have old guns with fines if they don’t come forward and when your gun you sold in your garage sale is used by the guy who sold it to a guy who sold it to a guy who kills kids in their own neighborhood, they are going to hold you responsible for the crime, fine you for not registering your gun and the rest of those guys who had the gun will go free since they didn’t register the gun when they had it.

The insurance companies got into the game, too. They must have offered to put a great deal of money into the re-election coffers of our pirates if they would include in the law a requirement that gun owners insure their weapons. It is a win-win situation for pirates and insurance companies; we lose. And the pirates will find a way to bring more money into their personal coffers by granting the insurance companies tax breaks if they speed up the insurance process by offering incentives to get as many guns insured as possible.

It never ends. Our duely elected officials always tell us they are looking out for us but they are really looking out for themselves since it is so enticing to pick up all the money floating on the open sea of US private civilians trying to make a living in a world of piracy created by our government. They are the most parasitical bunch of swashbucklers, wining and dining on rum and caviar and hanging out at the local punch houses while we are stuck eating barnacles and drinking grog when it will be only a matter of time before we will be “dancing the hempen jig” dangling from the financial disaster of a rope around our necks sucking the last penny from our hardworking lives.

Argh! I’m shivering in my timbers.

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Jellyfish and Democrats are Twins

Posted December 21, 2015 By Gospel

Sadly, they both have a Mouth and Anus

I have not been able to find anything in nature that comes even close to describing the characteristics of the common democrat species. Until now! I was amazed at the similarities. It was like experiencing one of a set of twins for years, not knowing the other existed, until I met the other twin face to face. The characteristics leaped at my mind like an electric shock springing from a cloud. Within a nanosecond I knew that I had finely cleared up the most amazing mystery known to the conservative man. Face to face? Not really. Jellyfish don’t really have a face.

In fact, they don’t even have a brain. Or a heart. And just like their name, they really aren’t what their name implies. A jellyfish is not really a fish. And democrats aren’t really democrats. They are actually a little bit further down the political spectrum foodchain. Like jellyfish that live below the surface of the sea, the democrat lives just below what they say they are at the moment. If they say they are democrats, they are concealing the fact that they are socialists, or a little deeper; communists. But there is a whole new level of peculiarity about them. They have an uncontrollable urge to dictate. They practice the most subtle form of dictatorial dominance. Like the word “subtle” used in the previous sentence, they are like the ‘b;’ silent. They are subliminal. There, another “sub.” Like jellyfish, they lurk below the surface like a nefarious submergible. And if you happen to come in contact with them, you will get stung.

Jellyfish have no eyes. And like democrats they can’t see where they are going, don’t care who they bump into and are absolutely certain they are moving in the right direction. They don’t want to see where they are going because their existence depends on blindly going where no one in their right mind would want to go. Yet it fits their ideology of fantasy. Just like a jellyfish dancing blindly through the currents of the sea, so do the democrats who crash through humanity with no care of the outcome. Jellyfish hide under the sea and democrats hide under the sea of humanity. Both have the same characteristic; they are spineless yet fearless. Who cares who dies while they are about their tasks of unknowingly destroying every fabric of their world?

Just looking how each moves itself around is also telling. The jellyfish moves by contracting its body in the sea water in which it exists. It does this with a simple network of nerves that contract and release much like the democrat that contracts to hide behind someone else to blame and then swells with ego to take credit for catching the evildoer they blamed for what they had done. They contract like a leopard about to pounce on its prey and then swell with ego when it manages to destroy any existence of another not of their ilk.

And, because jellyfish are related to corals, you could also say that democrats are closely related as well.  Corals and jellyfish share the same basic body plan just like democrats. It is shocking to bring up the subject of evolution – something endeared by democrats. Both corals and jellyfish evolved from something more like a sponge-coral than a jellyfish. It is interesting that the word sponge comes up. Sponges suck up moisture from its environment just like democrats suck dollars from our economy. It is so revealing to find out that democrats evolved having a sponge in their ancestry. Sponges evolved into corals, jellyfish and democrats. And why do I know for certain now that democrats are polyps? Polyps are what they call each one of those microscopic, carnivorous beings, or corals. Yep. Democrats are polyps. They feed on the flesh of our economy delving deep down using their long jellyfish-like tentacles to milk every last dollar leaving only a reef made of bone and economic ruin.

Democrats are actually not like corals. Corals are actually alive. Democrats are more like the reefs the corals create. The reefs are made up of calcium carbonate. That is why democrats are so hardheaded. And to think that the most disgusting thing known to democrats is carbon, and then you find that reefs are in part, a structure including carbon. And, another thing needs clarity in this discussion. Corals and jellyfish are related in such a way that they are part of what biologists call a phylum – or division. And that is why democrats are so divisive. They are not part of our phylum.

These creatures can fool you with their spectacular light show drawing you into a hypnotic trance and then sting you with hundreds of dangerous harpoons laced with their deadly toxin. The only ones that are not fatal are the ones who magically develop brains, eyes and a heart going through a metamorphosis where they become republicans. Yeah, I know. Poo-Poo happens when the lights go on and you finally are able to see and think and reason.

So to conclude, and to insure that normal humans learn to exclude this particular Cnidarium of the Cnidaria family from all their political discussion, we need to recognize what democrats really are. They are Jelly-crats!  They are spineless, brainless, sightless, heartless, and of course, bloodless, slimy carnivores who sting you to death while sucking the life out of your highly evolved system of capitalistic perfection you give your lifeblood to protect. Jelly-crats certainly always drool but God help us if they ever get to the point where they rule.

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Medicare Part G, Who Knew?

Posted November 23, 2015 By Gospel

Medicare Part G for the elderly, finally!

Government help at last

Government help at last

A close friend of mine received an email and forwarded to me. It concerned an answer for older folks who need Long-Term Care but do not have the funds to afford it. Who knew that our Government would provide a solution to that dilemma just like they always do when they step in to help the elderly in need.  It is another element of Medicare that practically no one knows about until now. The politicians certainly did not want us to find out about it after the fact. It appears an congressional aide slipped in this provision to a large piece of legislation no one read; at least the politicians didn’t!

It’s called:

MEDICARE PART G

NO, really, all seriousness aside. It exists for the using as the need arises.

Let’s explain how it works. It is a plan that totally fits the politically correct way of doing things.

Say you are an older senior citizen and can no longer take care of yourself and need Long-Term Care, but the government says there is no Nursing Home Care available for you.

 So, what do you do?  You opt for Medicare Part G.

 The plan gives anyone 75 or older a gun (Part G) and one bullet.  You are allowed to shoot one worthless politician.  This means you will be sent to prison for the rest of your life where you will receive three meals a day, a roof over your head, central heating and air conditioning, cable TV, a library, and all the health care you need.  Need new teeth?  No problem.  Need glasses?  That’s great.  Need a hearing aid, new hip, knees, kidney, lungs, sex change, or heart?  Need a wheelchair or canes or crutches?  They are all covered!

 As an added bonus, your kids can come and visit you at least as often as they do now!

 And, who will be paying for all of this?  The same government that just told you they can’t afford for you to go into a nursing home.

 And you will get rid of a useless politician while you are at it.  And now, because you are a prisoner, you don’t have to pay any more

Is this a great country or what?

But concerning that sex change option. The benefit you get is all the sexual activity you could possibly ever NOT want. But luckily, your benefactor,  the United States Government, in their infinite wisdom, will take care of you on that note, also. They will give you as many free condoms as you need to handout to all your sex partners and that will give you the pleasure in knowing there is little chance of you contracting an STD. There is another benefit that comes with the sex change package, an endless supply of Preparation H to help increase your pleasure in all this sexual activity. And just in case your partners begin to lose their interest in you, and can provide them with their very own free prescription to a lifetime supply of Cialis. But keep in mind you need to advise them of the most undesirable side effects which are  include flushing, headache, upset stomach, diarrhea, nasal stuffiness and dizziness. In rare cases, men have experienced erection that last for longer than 4 hours (or is that 4 days, not sure). In such events, they need to be advised to visit the prison dispensary.

By the way, when you pass away in prison for any reason, you get funeral services that are totally inclusive at no charge. This includes embalming and postmortem reconstructive anal surgery.

I don’t  know about you, but I am cancelling my Long-Term Care insurance!

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Obama Presidential Portrait

Posted November 20, 2015 By Gospel

President on ToiletThe Television was in its usual state when I went downstairs this morning to get my coffee. It was on. Dana Parino was hosting a documentary program about the Presidency of George W. Bush. Part of her presentation was when she was in the White House with President Bush discussing various Presidents’ paintings. The Portrait of Lincoln was his favorite. He favored history and mentioned he emulated Lincoln during his presidency. I couldn’t help but wonder how President Obama will control the creation of his masterpiece.

I learned that it is the Non-Profit White House Historical Association who foots the bill using private donors. That is really good for us because some of those paintings nowadays cost as much as $40,000. The National Portrait Gallery is where you can find most of the paintings of our presidents. President Bush had his own donors cover the expense for his. But Presidents can’t have their portraits unveiled until after their term of office is complete. During their presidency, a photograph is used, and after that the photo is replaced by the painting. During Bush’s portrait unveiling in the White House, he stated to the guests: “Welcome to my hanging!

Presidents normally pick their preferred painter. With Clinton, Hillary controlled that. Why does that not surprise me? She reviewed many offers and interviewed and reviewed the work of a lot of them. And sometimes she would permit Bill to tag along on some of the interviews. They decided on a black man from the South, the first black man to ever be called upon do a president’s portrait. I’m guessing she might have done that for political reasons in the event she ran for office. That would be a good campaign item to work into her speeches. She had the man paint a portrait of her as well, for the First Lady’s picture. The question was, I am sure, which painter is going to get us the most votes. There is another interesting fact off the subject of paintings, Clinton doesn’t have a Presidential Library, it’s an Adult Book Store.

Needless to say, President Kennedy’s portrait was painted after his death and Jackie controlled that one. The artist did not want to paint a dead man’s eyes so the portrait shows the President looking down in such a way that his eyes are not visible. President Kennedy was my President when I was in high school. Like most young people then and today, it seems being a democrat is the right thing to do. Then later in life we find out who these democrats are, what they do to get elected and how they stay elected. I was an early convert to Republicanism. You notice they don’t have an “ism” for democrats so they use the closest thing to it calling themselves followers of socialism or communism. I think if you have a political following, you should be able to describe it with an “ism. Just like their party, democratism doesn’t work.

But then we have the forthcoming portrait of President Obama. And I am sure Michelle is really going to get involved in that effort. In fact, she already is, coming up with a potential painter who she gave the leeway to present what he felt would be a good idea. They even have it hung already in the White House, but where no one can see it yet. That way they can check it out occasionally to see if it tickles their fancy. It is a painting of the President sitting on top of the world. The globe clearly looks like it is made of porcelain. His pose portrays him looking like a President sitting on a throne. I suppose that is what gave them the idea to hang it in the President’s private bathroom. That way he can get used to viewing himself while sitting on a porcelain throne, sitting on top of the world with his pants down below his knees. The painter was careful to insure his pants were not so low that they would obscure his presidential shoeshine.

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Illegals and Their Lawyers = Parasites

Posted September 13, 2015 By Gospel

Lawyers, Unions and democrat politicians are parasites – along with their fellow illegal immigrants. But why? My story tells all. (Updated to 2015)

Gold-Bricks1

Garage Door Mural

Since our economy is going into the toilet and taking me with it, I wanted to show my disappointment with arrogance by making a political statement. What better way but to have people think I had started to buy gold and hold it in anticipation of the looming market crash everyone expects. It is going to be catastrophic. So, I found this really great site where I could buy a mural that covered my entire garage door. As you can see above, the picture I picked out was that of a stack of gold bricks that made it appear they were neatly stacked in my garage. But how would I know something would happen that would capture the eyes of the entire neighborhood and go viral.

It wasn’t long before I heard a few sirens outside. When I looked out my upstairs window, I noticed an ambulance with a stretcher being pulled out, two police cars parked at various angles blocking any traffic from getting by, and a newsman from a local mainstream media outlet filming, using equipment hooked up to huge cables running out of the back of his news truck which was weighted down with a huge extendable antenna on top. I was curious as to what was going on and ran downstairs, unlocked my sliding glass door and made it pass several other onlookers to get a better view of what happened. There was a person being loaded on the ambulance stretcher, hooked up to an IV, getting his blood pressure monitored and his vitals reviewed by the paramedics. One paramedic was on the phone apparently talking to the emergency room giving the latest update about the person’s condition to a doctor on call. The police were walking around trying to ask onlookers if they had seen what happened. No one had. It wasn’t until the next day when I learned from the police what had happened.

My doorbell rang and their was a couple of knocks on the door as well. Whoever it was, it seemed they where anxious to get someone to answer. I pulled back the side curtain and noticed two policemen seriously positioned at my front door. I opened it. The first thing they asked me was, “Is the garage door with the mural on it, yours?” I just love their trick questions since the condo number on the wall above the garage door matched the one on the front door they just knocked on. “Of course,” I said. “Yes.” “What’s the problem, officers?” “I am sure you know we had an incident where someone was hurt yesterday right in front of someone’s garage door. Well, the man we took to the hospital yesterday couldn’t speak English so it took us awhile to get an interpreter to translate for us so we could get his side of the story. That’s when we learned that he actually didn’t know what happened because he had blacked out and couldn’t remember. But one thing we did know was that it happened right in front of your garage door. The doctor told us it appeared he had been running really fast and smashed into something knocking himself out.  We think it might have been your garage since we just took a closer look and found blood stains on it at a level that matches our victim’s general height. The interpreter mentioned that he may be an illegal alien and we confirmed that later this morning because he had a record and had been designated as one who was under a deportation order. They released him this morning from the hospital and we have not been able to find him. ICE released him a few weeks ago asking him to return for his deportation date and he didn’t show.” “Wow,” I said. “You guys are really busy. But what does this have to do with me?”

They continued. “Here is what we think happened. We believe he may have been casing the area looking of an opportunity to break into one of the condos here in your complex. But when he saw the gold bricks on your mural, he thought he had struck gold and made a quick dash to your garage thinking he was about to strike it rich. That is when he ended up on the ground passed out. We have no idea why you are displaying that mural but in doing so you may have unintentionally cause bodily harm to an innocent passerby. So I am sorry, but we are going to have to ask you to take it down so it doesn’t cause any further injury to unsuspecting victims who might happen to be walking by. And since the victim doesn’t have any insurance, the hospital has asked us to file a report as soon as possible so they will have cause to send you a bill for their expenses incurred while caring for him. As a consequence, we may have to site you for causing bodily injury and charge you with aggravated assault since the damages were significant. We are sorry for the inconvenience, we are just doing our job.” I was going to say, “wait, I didn’t get all that. Could you start from the beginning?” But that would not be a good idea since they may think I was being facetious. I was not looking for a free ride to the police station at the moment.

Later that afternoon, I learned that, though the police and ICE were not able to find the guy, an attorney had. A server arrived at my door and presented me with a request from the man’s attorney asking me to provide the name of my homeowner’s insurance company so they could file a claim. There was also a notice that they had received a copy of the police report and were in the process of filing a civil action asking for compensatory damages to cover anticipated long-term pain and suffering caused by serious injury at no fault of their client. They recommended that I come to a meeting in their office to discuss a settlement agreement to avoid formal court proceedings from being filed on behalf of their client. I said, “I’ll get back to ya on that,” and closed the door. As soon as I closed the door, the phone rang. It was the ambulance company calling to confirm my address so they could send me a bill for transportation expenses associated with the victim’s transport to the nearest hospital.

It wasn’t long before my address was out for all to see. I knew for sure that was the case when I began to notice an ever-increasing string of automobiles starting to slowly drive past my home. Some of the vehicles had one or two occupants but several had as many as 4. I noticed that many of those cars had Obama/Biden stickers pasted on them in places where there was very little other space since numerous other stickers blanketed the back side of the car leaving just enough room amongst all the anti-Bush stuff, pro-choice, peace and gay rights stickers. The rest of the cars were hispanically adorned with Mexican flags and words that I didn’t understand. Some were painted in really pretty colors with glitterful, tiny reflective strings of lights in numerous colors flowing along the lowest exposed points of the entire car. I could tell when they were coming by, since some of them scrapped the speed-bump outside my window because their shock absorbers were completely worn out. I could also tell the same thing when I would hear bass music pounding on my exterior walls, shaking my foundation and causing all the pictures on the interior walls to tilt to one side or crash to the floor.

Needless to say, this was a little scary. I, for the first time in my life, started seriously fearing for my life. I finally broke down with my reluctance to buy a weapon and sneaked off to the nearest gun shop. I picked out a nice semi-automatic with extra clips and bullets that were extra powerful and had hollow points. But before I could get a gun, I had to go through a background check. It didn’t take long before I learned I would not qualify to buy a gun based on two reasons. First, based on my prior military service, I was put on a small dose of antidepressants by the VA, The other issue was associated with the fact that there was a recent record of a police report filed that indicated a possible pending assault charge. I had no other choice but to defend myself some other way. On my way home, I stopped by Walmart to buy a couple of high-powered pellet guns and a crossbow. But I needed more security so I got a quote from a home security vendor. It was $4500 for 24 hour of monitored security and a ton of wiring throughout my home attached to sensors from motion, to broken glass, to body heat. There was a bunch of other things but I had no clue what they were for. That quote was way outside my budget by just about $4500, give or take a few pennies.

I am not stupid so I figured out a more cheaper way. The other precautions were ingenious. I stopped by the local furniture store and found a stuffed, life-sized English Bull Dog accessory for my home. I returned to Walmart and picked up a beware of dog sign in English and Spanish and another sign that said this home is protected by Smith & Wesson. I then got on the computer to find a local home security service, copied their signage trademark to a JPEG file, enlarged it using photo shop and pasted it on a round board I fashioned on a table saw in my garage. I nailed it to long wooden stake I found at the hardware store used for temporary barriers on construction sites. I positioned the sign outside next to my home where the street light would shine on it to improve visibility from the street. I also found an electronic kit where I could create a small box with an LED blinking red light powered by a battery to attach to the wall in clear view from the sliding glass window so anyone who looked in could see that their was a professionally installed security system up and running. I bought little round chair leg coasters and stuck them to all my windows so they would be in clear view. I attached a short wire to them which  ran behind the curtain where I taped the end to the wall out of sight. Walla! I had window security glass breakage detectors.  Who knew I could do so much with so little? I set up a nylon fishing line “trip wire” that ran into my house and hooked up to a bell I attached to the wall next to my bed. I figured I better not use poison darts since I was not sure the “Make My Day Law” covered me if I did any harm to illegal immigrants who  aimlessly and innocently walked on to my patio area who did not understand what “Smith & Wesson” meant.

The traffic outside my home began to taper off. Probably because I was beginning to become old news and their were for sure many others impacted by the bureaucratic red tape, gun control, racist accusations, retaliation for not supporting illegal immigration and abortion and any other label with which the liberals used to describe me. I was becoming a little more relaxed just about the same time when my homeowner’s insurance policy holder representative called me to inform me they were settling out of court, paying all the expenses associated with the injured party. Then they inform me that since they decided to settle out of court, my insurance was going to be increased as a result of my negligence. It was then I noticed I was even becoming a little more relaxed but my wallet started to tremble.

It was just a few days later.

Wow! Did you hear that? I think I heard a thump coming from the area in front of my garage. Oh, shoot! I forgot to take down my mural of gold covering my closed garage! Dang. I called 911 and pulled out my smart phone, tapped on my Spanish translator software application, and rushed outside to take care of the victim. As I approached him, he was still conscious so I yelled into my phone, “help is on the way,” and I then pushed the translate button. The phone blurted out, “Ayude a estar por el camino.” The guy looked up at me and said, “Was?” (pronounced “VOS.”)

“Oh Shit,” I said. I think he is German!

It wasn’t long after that, and after the police report was filed, that cars started driving by my house adorned with German Flags and “Scheiss Ami”  or ” more formal “Beschissener Amerikaner” stickers pasted on the rear! The rough translation of both meant “Shitty American.” And just as a side note, the US State Department called to tell me that my Passport needed a special stamp; “Not permitted to travel to any country located within or adjacent to the European Union or countries in Central and South America.” I will be just a matter of time before an Islamic Terrorist hits my garage door and “BOOM,” I would be barred from visiting anywhere in the Middle East. The State Department will have all those countries on a no travel list anyway, but a little overkill won’t hurt.

Yeah, freedom is just great! If you are liberal.

OR, if you are a member of a labor union who contributed 96% of all their political contributions to Democrats, or lawyers and law firms who contributed 76% of all political contributions to Democrats. And isn’t it interesting that the majority of Democrat elected officials in our entire government are mostly lawyers. To be politically correct to Massachusians you need call them “Lahyas.” Have you any idea why we will never see tort reform? Or get rid of Public Labor Unions? Most Republicans are from the business sector. Any idea why corporations are hated so much? It is because they hire liberals but don’t pay them to stop working so they can live at home. There is another sub sector of liberals who vote Democrat, have not worked for quite some time and get food stamps to spend on the greater things in life, like Marijuana and all the other more “Progressive” concoctions known as designer drugs, H, and Crystal Meth; to name a very few. The problem with them is getting them to remember to vote. These folks needed to be on food stamps because they ran out of money when their 99 months of unemployment checks, granted to them by a liberal president, ran out.

Yeah, I know. I got carried away with that last paragraph. Just ruined a perfect story. I am going to just have to learn to stifle my free speech to which I actually am not entitled unless approved by a liberal.

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Poems From the Gospel of JJ

Posted September 18, 2014 By Gospel

 Bon Bon

   My Bon Bon

I have a little bonbon

I keep it in-a box

With several thousand latches

And thirty-seven locks.

My bonbon is so yellow

With little streaks of green

I’d eat it up just like that

But that would be to mean.

I love my little bonbon

It’s all I have in life

If someone were to take it

I’d stab ’em with a knife.

So I’ll just keep it hidden

For no one ‘er to see

We’ll live as one forever

Just my bon bon …….and me.

.

.

Cute+Ducklings+Funny+Pic

       MY LITTLE DUCKLING

 

   I had a little duckling,

I called him Socrates,

He was so very naughty

And very hard to please.

He’d wake me in the morning

With little peeps of rhyme,

I’d tell him to be quite

And give me peace of mind.

When he was unhappy,

I’d take him to the sea

To play upon the wet warm sand

And perch upon my knee.

He loved no more than bathing

In mothers coffee cup,

I’d fill it to the brim

With sparkling seven up.

He loved the little bubbles

To run along his sides,

It made him feel so happy

And then he’d run and hide.

But I knew where to find him

Wherever he may go,

He’d leave his tracks all over

Like footprints in the snow.

But time has passed on by now,

He grew too old, you see,

I no longer have my duckling,

I had him with my tea.

.

.

doe-and-fawn

In a Meadow

(Ode to the Hunter)

In a midsummer meadow

Near a blue calmly stream

There’s a doe and her fawn

Taking peacefully the green.

The wee fawn asks of mother

In a questioning sad way

Where has daddy gone

I’ve not seen him today?

But mother in answer

Soft tears in her eyes

Wants not to bring harm

Wants not to tell lies.

Your father’s away, my son

Venturing through time,

Where life is a happy one

 And bells are sweet rhyme.

 So we must be brave, son

And be good our lives through

For the time will come, son

When we must leave too.

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Sage and Montana

Posted September 12, 2014 By Gospel

Mother Nature stepped in last evening to let us know fall is underway. We woke up to 30 degree weather this morning with a light snow near the middle of September. My wife and I had two furry guests; Australian Shepherds named Sage and Montana. They were spending a couple of nights with us while their owners drove another furry friend, an English Bull Dog named Andy, across country to Washington, DC, to reunite her with her parents, my son and his wonderful wife. We put our dark jackets on over warm clothing to take our two guests out for their morning constitutional. It was not long before we were able to come back in. But not before all four of us had our dark coats bespeckled with a dose of Mother Nature’s white frozen flakes.

Our son and his wife, married for two years now, were doing very well in Portland, OR. He had just graduated from the University of Portland with a Political Science Degree and she had a well-established position with a great company. But then our son was accepted to attend the American University Law School, in Washington, DC. They both agreed they would make the move and fortunately, her talents made her extremely valuable to several companies and three attempted to make her offers that were quite good. She settled on a position located near Washington, DC.  The offers included an agreement to fund her move to include household goods, two cars and all transportation. It must be nice to be so much in demand during our current economic times where many people found it difficult to find work. But she really is very talented at what she does.

Because of Andy’s flying restrictions, her parents volunteered to drive their daughter’s car across country to give Andy first class accommodations with her own personal entourage caring for her every need. The airlines do not permit English Bull Dogs aboard their planes because of the potential for breathing issues associated with her breed. Our daughter-in-law flew in from DC, to meet Andy along the way to help with the drive eastward. Yes, Andy is their first baby raised from a pup, and she is very special to us all. She is my grand-puppy. And she can call me her Grand-doggy, too, anytime she wishes.

And now back to our doggy sitting adventures. Montana and Sage live out on a ranch near us and after two days, we took them back to their home so they could get back to running the property in hot pursuit of any critter crazy enough to cut across the property. On our way, we reached a point in the road where a sign appeared. “Dear Crossing.” And sure enough, here they come. A Doe and her Fawn followed by the Buck in the family began crossing the road. We pulled to a stop as they slowly made their way across. But I think they were moving too slow to satisfy Montana in the backseat because he began barking instructions telling them to get moving. But that didn’t cause them to move any faster. After all, they did have the right-a-way; the sign said so. It’s not Montana’s fault, he can’t read signs.

When we reached their home, the leashes were detached the moment I opened the rear door and they hit the property on a dead run, barking, immediately going on 4 foot patrol searching every inch of land surrounding their home. They also managed to catch up on another constitutional break during their casing of the land on which they considered themselves to be the primary protectors. It was still in the low 30s so it was a little on the cool side. My wife and I were due another  visit later on in the day so we stayed a while letting them in and out so they could keep up on their security duties but not get too cold in the process. I brought a book to read and got in a few chapters. By noon, and according the weather reports, the temperature was still in the low 30s. So it was time for us to go take care of some errands. I called Montana and Sage into the garage where they had warm accommodations and a good supply of water. Montana was not too cool to that idea so I had to use my “I’m real tough” commands to get him to sit next to Sage and wait for me to close the garage door; showing a stern palm that stayed in plain view until the door got within 6 inches of the ground which meant I was serious about those sitting instructions. That was a pretty difficult task trying to get them to stay put.

My wife and I came out again in the evening to give them their evening meal, a few more minutes of security duty and; it is off to bed they go. They can’t be out at night because that’s when the not so friendly foxes, skunks, porcupines and raccoon begin their nocturnal rampaging. Those guys are another story when it comes to security. It is best to let those guy do their thing during the night without interruption. Montana and Sage could really get themselves into a serious mauling, or if they happen onto somebody who can put up a serious stink, they may be looking at a prolonged scrubbing in a location far from the house out of nose shot. They could also find themselves coming home yelping with pain looking like industrial pin cushions. That would get them front row seats to a dreadful special event; a trip to the vet and his tweezers where they get called up on stage, the operating table, to become the stars. Ouch.

Why go through all the trouble of trying to keep them in the garage when a neat trick would do the trick. All I had to do is get one of their treats; a peanut butter tasting biscuit in the shape of a flat bone, break it in two and have them sit and then lay down. Then I would simply hand each a half and they would ignore everything going on around them while I pushed the button on the control. They looked at me, still in the lay down position, and the door going down, but they couldn’t concentrate on that; that half of a cookie tasted better than a trip to the Outback Restaurant for a steak dinner. Well, they don’t know about that since they have never been there; but I have. That steak and baked potato tastes better than a dog biscuit. At least I bet it does.

The next morning was interesting. As I pulled up to the garage door to let Sage and Montana out, I got out of the car and delayed as long as I could in eager anticipation to see what was about to happen. They knew I was their but didn’t make a peep. The door only got up about 8 or 9 inches before Sage and Montana crawled out screaming with joy to see me, made a few spins and prances in circles before constitutionals and security duty called. Like darts they were out on patrol making a counter clockwise trip around the house. That took several minutes which gave me time to prepare their breakfast. I stayed awhile so the garage door ordeal would not come to quickly. I fixed their bowls with the meals they liked best and changed the old water to being fresh again just inside the garage door to the house, in the mud room. I called them. One after the other ran into the room, and I closed the door behind them. Sage, given the chance, would eat both bowls, so I had to watch her while Montana nibbled at his food as though he still had patrolling on his mind. He moved back and forth from bowl to door. I had to keep reminding him that he would have to eat before hitting counter-clock wise patrol again. I would let Sage out first since she was done eating and give Montana more time to finish eating. Then out he went on a dead run returning to where he and Sage left off.

Our visits would last about 6 days after which the owners would return home by air and we would pick them up. The routine became comfortable for my wife and I and and all indications were that Sage and Montana were happy seeing us each time. It even got a little mysterious for us when we walked out the door to the garage to notice that one of their two sleeping pads was missing. They are about 3-4 feet across and about 4 inches thick. We got ourselves into a mild panic wondering how could one of those pads come up missing. All kinds of ideas flashed through our minds as to how something light this could happen. We went outside looking for a missing pad. It is a three car garage with a large cement circular form driving way big enough to turn around it with a car. We walked out to the road entering the circular driveway to find the missing pad under a tree with a few puffs of cotton padding spread around a hole that seemed to be getting larger. We had notice initially that there was a small hole when the pad was in the garage. We knew at that moment, that either Sage or Montana had moved the pad out under a tree to probably have something soft to sit on in the shade or just have something to chew on in between jaunts around the house on patrol.

That pad problem would have again. But this time, two pads where missing. I looked out to where the pad was following the previous theft and it wasn’t there. Wow! One of these canine robbers was playing a mischievous trick on me. This time I had to go out to the road before I saw one of the pads. It was across the road laying in the field with large cotton balls surrounding it. But that was only one pad, when two were missing. I had to look farther. But then I saw it. It was laying under another tree around the side of the house blending in the landscape making it hard to see. I gathered them up and returned them to their proper place in the garage. It didn’t happen again in the six days. But I was ready for it should it again. I still don’t know which one, Sage or Montana, was playing this cat and pad game with me. My guess it was Montana. He gave me the impression that he would do something like this. Sage was older and little less spry so Montana gets the blame in my mind. He is the pesky one; the leader of the pack.

I would stay at the house for awhile to give them a chance to get in more doggy activities. On one trip to the house and after they had eaten and gone out for awhile, we went out to check on them. In a few minutes they returned. Sage was all wet like she had just taken a bath. We were curious as to how that happened and we began making the rounds around the house, too. But clockwise was our route. There were small bodies of water to our left as we downed the steps around to the back yard. And sure enough the evidence revealed itself. There was a small pond at the foot of the steps and a flat rock pathway passing it. A few steps further down was a hot tub with its cover on. We looked across the lawn to see tree large bowl like receptacles with water bubbling over. At first we thought maybe Sage has gotten into one of them for a quick dip in the cool water. But that was ruled out a short time later when we noticed the rock pathway had a streak of a wet water mark leading from the small pool and the grass. She had been in the pond at the foot of the steps. These two happy go lucky shepherds were probably frolicking around and Sage probably accidentally fell in. But it was time to go for us. But we waited a few minutes so Sage had a chance to dry off in the warm sun.   It was back to the garage where they eagerly following me convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt a half of a doggy biscuit was about to brighten their day. There was no room between me and these two beggars as they took a sitting position on their blanket next to the two pads. It reminded me of the old homeless guys sitting at an intersection holding a sign which said they would work for food. But in this case, the sign said “I will do tricks or follow any command you want, just give me a peanut butter flavored biscuit.

Finally, I gave the down command and they each did an instantaneous belly flop knowing for sure the long awaited time had come. I handed each their share and with garage door opener control in hand just walked out side and pushed the button. I watched as the door made its way down but they stayed in the prone position chomping away. They peered at me as I went out of sight but did not fail to keep chomping and check around them for any scrape that might have fallen. We had been told that getting them to stay in the garage was going to be extremely difficult but the treat trick was even better than stealing mattress pads. But before we resorted to this approach, we were told we could leave them out all day. We tried that but as we left heading for the remote controlled gate about 100 yards down the hill, they two made stealthy attempts to follow us. We would tell them to go home but they would just make larger loops making their way to the gate about the same time we got there. We opened the gate and drove through and the gate closes automatically. They just passed by the gate through a narrow path designed to permit people to walk past the gate. We drove up the road farther. And they continued to follow.  It was clear they were going to follow us regardless. We had another gate to get to which was about a quarter mile away opening to the road way. We just got through the first gate a up the road another hundred yards or so and turned around. We had to return to the doggy biscuit method of control in the garage. We would try that again.

When I was young I had a Australian Shepherd named Buttons. But she was little more passive than Sage and Montana, probably because we had a warmariner who made it his sole purpose in life to steal the show. Buttons would just sit and watch as Pete the Warmariner made prancing around in a perpetual frolic his primary form of enjoyment. He never learned to not do that around Sam the Terrible, a black cat we also had. Several times Pete would forget what happened before and pull his frolicking routine up next to Sam who would fire off with blinding speed several punches to both sides of Pete’s face, claws extended. The yelping in pain was part of his routine, too.  Buttons, I am sure, was just sitting watching Pete learn that history really does repeat itself, over and over again. But his memory seems to be lacking. Buttons was probably thinking, “gosh, how dumb can these Warmariners be?” My time spent with Sage and Montana was a lot of fun. It reminded me of the good old days when I grew up on a ranch with our dogs and Sam the Terrible in Southern California. Sage, Montana and I had a good time frolicking ourselves. Now back to life with humans. Oh how boring. I wonder if they might like peanut butter flavored biscuits?

I wrote another story about Sam the Terrible! (click here) and enjoy the fun I had with the furry friends I grew up with.

 

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Howard Stern Needs to Go!

Posted June 27, 2014 By Gospel

I have just got to get off my beaten path for a post I am compelled to write. I have always enjoyed watching the great talent that finds it way to “America’s Got Talent” on NBC. But Howard Stern is the worst judge ever. The other 3 judges bring a lot of respect, quality and humor to the show. But not Stern. His arrogant arguing with other judges is really disgusting. He is really not funny, he is disrespectful to those who really should not be on the show and he tries to upstage the other judges all the time. He butts in trying to over talk the other judges and he is really disrespectful to Howie. His constant flirting with the two female judges is really sickening. Howard Stern really has to go; and very soon.

I really enjoy the entertainment from the performers, good or bad, and good input from the judges. Good clean judgments of talent by the judges along with a great deal of good humor is fantastic but Stern is not funny, he is deeply disrespectful to everyone, and his attempts to inject himself in an attempt to draw attention is not helping the show. When I watch, I am really pleased with all the interaction with the audience, the humor of the judges and honest, straightforward appraisals of talent. With No Distractions. Howard Stern is a lot worse than a sore thumb. He is a thumb attached to entire body covered in gangrene. He really needs to be amputated quickly. He is decaying the rest of the show.

There is a reason he doesn’t take his shirt off and he most always wears black. His disgusting attempts to act like he is cool flirting with Heidi and Mel B is being sorely disrespectful to them. It is so obvious in how they respond to various acts were men take their shirts off that, Howard Stern has not got a chance. The act that failed where a lady tried to teach Howard to sing was one of the most ridiculous moments ever on the show. For a producer to thing that that is going to be entertaining and humorous is a joke. If the producer continues to choose such moments thinking it is going to improve ratings then he or she needs to go with Stern. Send them both to the trash bin.

Just knowing I am going to have to put up with Howard Stern doing his thing makes me want to go watch something else. Numerous times during a show I will burst out with negative comments about how he injects himself into programming. If you can’t find anyone to replace him, just go with three judges. I want to see good entertainment on the stage and fun moments from the judges. A good mix makes the show very popular but Stern is a huge error on the part of the persons who decided to put him on the show. Get your head out of your apex and send the gangrene packing.

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Manning Should Retire – A Strange Reason!

Posted February 3, 2014 By Gospel

Omaha Means Pass to Endzone!

Like football fans all over the country, their favorite teams usually provide a good source of entertainment. Manning and the Broncos had a good run. It got them into the Super Bowl. In, fact I was here when we had the Orange Crush back in 1977. But that game last night showed me that I was caught by surprise by a team that was far superior. The Seattle Seahawks are an exceptional team. Their defense overwhelmed the Broncos front offensive line. And although Russell Wilson only threw a few passes, the early few showed some jitters, but those passes thrown after he settled down demonstrated an exceptional talent.

Russell Wilson can throw on the run with great accuracy going to his right or left, where other quarterbacks have some difficulty with one or the other. Defenses try to force quarters to run to their weak passing side. Russell doesn’t have one. He can also do it well while running at a blinding speed. But he still needs an offensive front line that can get him some time. They did well enough and where they lacked he made up for it with sheer talent. His down field passes were perfectly timed, crisp, powerful and on the mark. The Seahawks were clearly the better team. A quarterback with exceptional throwing talent who can scramble like hell is really hard to beat.

Usually the teams the Broncos played had their difficulties getting to Manning and his quick 2 to 3 second drop to pass kept them at bay while Manning performed at an exception rate. But in last night’s game, the quality of the Seahawks defensive rush was just good enough to get to him a fraction of a second quicker. That was apparent by the number of times they managed to get a deflection of the ball or contact with Manning’s arm just as he was getting into a cocked position. That fraction of a second made a huge difference.

A team with an ability to rush a quarterback better than most teams, also needs a secondary crew who can hold the fort during the rush. The Seahawk defense demonstrated why they are rated the best in the NFL. I have heard for years that the team with the best defense usually will win the Super Bowl. The word on the street seems to think things have changed; that high scoring teams can dominate. But last night’s game proved the old defensive ability argument still holds. And based on the close games for the Seahawks during the playoff games getting to the big game, tells me the NFC had the better teams at the top of their rankings. The Broncos, San Diego and the Chiefs were all fighting for second best. The Chargers or the Chiefs would have lost the Super Bowl soundly.

During the game, I could feel the emotional pressure building up within me each time points against the Broncos occurred. I had hope that Manning would be able to work his magic. But that never came close to happening. So I had to tell myself I got caught up in the Bronco hype and didn’t get to see the Seahawks play at all during the season. I had no comparison. I blindly predicted that the score would be lopsided in the opposite direction. I was only off by about 65 points and the other team won. I based that prediction on what I saw in the playoffs not being able to compare the NFC to AFC since the teams played each other in their respective conferences. But after the Super Bowl, I could see that the NFC had more qualified teams.

So how should I deal with the pressure? It’s simple. The Broncos had a really successful season and it was fun to see your home team do so well. It provided a great source of positive entertainment. But when the conferences determined their best team to send to the big game, clearly the NFC had a much better team to send. And I need to realize that this is only a game and last night, the best team clearly won. That is what is supposed to happen. I have to admit that this football thing has the potential to get you stirred up. And some people can let that pent up emotion get out of hand. Some get violent, some drive drunk and some just lock themselves up in their room for hours or days. Hey, it is only a game. The world has to go on and about this time next year, the old game that happened several months back will be ancient history. Players will have changed teams, new coaches will have taken over, injuries will have changed the mix, and players will retire. But there is one more thing no one realizes and Manning is a good example.

Manning is a great quarterback but he should retire. He sustained a pretty significant injury to his neck a few years back and professional football is an extremely dangerous sport. That makes it more risky for him to continue. He has broken a lot of records and will find himself in the Hall of Fame regardless of the outcome of this game. The losers get $40,000 so that is not bad, either. But there is one more thing that is ironic about this game of football specific to Payton Manning and many other players. He will lose all that money in New Jersey taxes if he plays for the Broncos next year. That’s because he would be taxed by New Jersey based on his entire salary for next year because he will play a game in the state. But if he quits or gets traded, he won’t. Now that is a really stupid part of this game. Our ridiculous tax laws play a significant part in what happens to teams each year.

Who knew? The tax man is screwing with my team and yours. Players make decisions to change teams to get the best bang for their buck. That seems to go against all the hype. So who has a good chance to make it to the Super Bowl next year? I have absolutely no clue. Maybe we should ask the tax man.

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Global Warming at 50 below Zero

Posted January 20, 2014 By Gospel
The Big Five O

The Big Minus Five O

 

This Polar Vortex is really telling us a lot about our current world and the absolute diabolical impact of Global Warming. And I have only one thing to say, “Global Warming is killing us.” Without global warming, the temperature would not dip as much as -50 to -60 with the wind chill factor. Can you imagine what is happening to the polar ice caps? They must be melting exponentially since all the cold has moved to the Equator. Who knew? Well the global warming scientists knew when they “settled” the problem 15 years ago. The settled science holds that “The colder it gets the more impact global warming is going to have on our fragile environment.”

It might be too late to round up all the flamingos and equip them with a leg warming device that regulates itself with changes in the temperature. We would also need to determine the left or right handedness of each. If scientists can figure out everything we need to know about global warming and settle it, then certainly they can figure the handedness of a flamingo. Actually it is quite simple. The cleats with the most calluses will determine the handedness. My only problem is “How are we going to figure out which one of those flamingos are ambidextrous.

The polar bear population has been exponentially increasing over the past 15 years fooling the rest of us, but it was the scientist swearing by global warming predicting the population would decrease. How could we know that they meant it would happen as a result of extreme freezing of their habitat cutting off their food supply trapping it at least 15 feet below the frozen tundra? They are not going to be able to fatten up enough to hibernate through the winter. Mother Nature strikes again and here to keep us informed are her siblings, global warming scientists.

There is another question that puzzles me. Why would a Russian ship loaded with a bunch of scientists, a crew and some vacationers, go to the south pole to gets some proof that global warming exists? Isn’t that science settled already? Then to top that off, all the melting polar ice cap somehow managed to trap a ship in miles of frozen tundra. In fact, the ice was as much as 15 feet deep for miles. So hard was the ice that 4 ice breakers could not get to them because the ice was too thick. They would have to wait until spring for the ship to free its self. Oh wait, I just remembered. The current rotation of the earth means the northern part of the globe is having it winter now and the southern part of the globe is experiencing it summer months. Go figure. It took the momentary clearing of the skies to permit helicopters to get in to save them. And the selfish scientists and vacationers took all the seats of about 5 helicopter trips in and out and left the crew to wait for the ice to melt.

They have a term in the medical field for doctors who are really bad at what they do or when they practice medicine without a license. Quacks! They have boards that work hard at weeding them out. We need that same type of licensing system for scientists. They are like a pack of foxes all working together to guard the chicken house. They act as peer reviewers for each other. They sit on their own board. And it was scientists who came up with the idea that there is no such thing as settled science. If there was, then the whole earth would still be flat. So how is that that they can just arbitrarily decide that there is only one science that is settled – Global Warming?

And about this settle science thing. I keep hearing from people who are not scientists that the science is settle and that 97% of all scientists agree. And the scientists don’t complain about this statement from someone who is not one of them. So if we all can agree that science is really never settled than I can only reach one conclusion. At least 97% of the scientists mentioned above are just flat wrong. Not whether global warming exists but that it is settled. If they are absolutely convinced that the science is settled than how can we believe them when they say global warming exists. The are at least wrong on 50% of the issue. So what is to say that they are wrong about the other 50% as well.

With this issue, like flamingos, we find ourselves with only one leg to stand on. But I know one thing that is definitely settled. We need to put that decision on ice – at least until summer is above the Equator. O yeah. And the polar bears are getting a little too promiscuous to support the theory that they are decreasing in number. If you are a settled science guy; don’t you just hate when that happens.

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