Hitting the hot spots

The flag is the flag. People have bled, fought and died for it. The colors do not run and, unless the country falls and is taken over by another country, it does not change.

The confederate flag is a piece of our history. It needs to be flown as a remembrance of who we are and what we have gone through to get where we are.

Vaccinate your kids. If not for their sake then for the kids they come in contact with. If you don't want to then please move to the Appalachians and live with the hillbilly's.

Racism is wrong in every form

Discrimination is wrong in every form. You cannot deny someone just because you don't like what they like.

The President is the President. They all have sucked from George Washington on down but that's what we signed on for when we ditched Britain. The next one will not be any better. You may not like the man but respect the office.

No one in politics should be able to continue to hold their office longer than 10 years. That part of our system is broken and needs to be fixed immediately but who is going to vote their job away.

Corporations exist to make money. They will care about every aspect of their bottom line before they care about you. That's commerce. That's the way it works. Get over it.

If you are in a country illegally you have absolutely no claim to any benefits of that country. If you do not like it then leave said country.

Dont hurt your kids. Love your family and be excellent to one another.
OK I think that covers everything.
Did I miss something?

the end is nigh

I used to think that the world wasn't spiraling down the drain. That the reason we heard about so much crazy going on was just because, due to the internet and modern tech, we had more access to more information. That the world had just grown smaller because we knew everything about every little corner and knew it instantly.
I was wrong.
The world is spiraling down the drain. Morals are a rare commodity and common sense isn't so common. They say that, as a whole, the human race is smarter now than it has ever been but on any given day we fail to prove the fact.
We need a reset. An apocalypse that thins the herd and sets us back a decade or two because without it we are running downhill face first into an armageddon of our own design.
I'm not trying to be a bleak Bennie here, I am just scared to death of what is around the corner.
Something has to change.

Depression, in someone elses own words

Depression, in my own words.

You can’t explain to someone who hasn’t been there what it’s like to wake up, and the black curtain of storm clouds have suddenly dropped around you. How do you face the people around you, silently mouthing to each other “again?”. How can you explain that the objectively irrational impulses seem subjectively rational? That you understand that you’re not OK, but there’s nothing you can do to change it, while the world goes on making demands as if you still felt “normal”.
Your partner still wants you to be able to be there for her. The kids still want to get hugs from you – and they still need to eat. The boss still wants you to output widgets. The bank still wants you to make payments on the credit cards you used to survive when things went pear-shaped last time. The landlord still wants his rent.
There are two ways things can go from here. Sometimes with a good night’s sleep (or two, or more), and some looking after yourself, things will be OK again, and you’ll pick up your stuff, and keep moving forwards.
Sometimes, things don’t get better. The wiring isn’t just on the fritz, it’s burnt out. If you ask for help, they’ll insist on chemical assistance. They don’t really understand quite why or how the chemicals work, but “they should help”. They might (will) have side effects. The cure might end up being worse than the disease. If that one doesn’t work, they have others. Or a cocktail of medications, each one to deal with the side effects of another. That way lies its own unique madness.
With the meds, they might prescribe talking. Lots of talking, in the vain hope that like the infinite monkeys with their infinite typewriters might turn out some Shakespeare, if you say enough words for long enough, everything might fall into place. Sometimes they’re good at listening, sometimes they’re not. With the right person, it helps.
Some sift your words carefully, picking out the little nuggets of truth that help you understand a little better who you are. Others nod, grunt, and write you another prescription. I’ve known both. And it’s expensive to sit in a little room and talk. When you’re in a situation where you need to sit in a little room and talk, there’s a good chance that you’re not in a position to be able to afford it.
Fortunately, for me, most days now resemble ordinary. I wake up. I stare at the face in the mirror worn with lines I don’t remember collecting, and stubble that feels like it belongs on someone older than me. I go to work, and try to fit into “normal” like a cheap suit that I bought in a hurry and can’t take back.
But occasionally, there are those days. Days where the mask is tissue-paper thin. Surviving the day is an act of will that leaves a lingering exhaustion that seeps into your bones. Like a drowning man in a flash flood, you wrap yourself around the hope that the waters will recede soon, and you’ll be safe and dry again.
At least until the next deluge.



--While I own the sentiment I cannot claim the words.
This was created by a creature called a Warwick on Wazzapedia

The Devils Drug

I seem to have a problem with some of the more basic human functions.
Ever since my teen years, I've always had insomnia.
Sometimes it is slight sometimes it just totally kicks my butt.
In fact, in the past 3 or 4 months I have been averaging maybe about 

2 hours a night.
That's from 3am to 5am and that's if I am lucky.
Not sure what was causing it but I think it passed last week.
I mentioned it to my doctor on Wednesday and he said "Hey! Try Ambien!"
My doctor really, REALLY likes his prescription pad.
I said "sure! I will give it a shot. I could use at least 1 good night's sleep."
He said "be careful though it can cause amnesia."
"Why the hell would you prescribe it for me then?" I thought but figured 

what the hell.
And what have I learned?
*ahem*
Ambien is the devil 

 This is what I would assume a roofie feels like.

I normally toss and turn and mumble and get up and basically turn the bed into 

the linen equivalent of one of those paint mixing machines you see at Walmart.
I took a 10mg pill on Wednesday night, oh about 8:30pm because hey, sleep!
And according to my wife flat out died.
Or basically I was an immobile sack of meat with a pulse.

Until, that is, Zeus started whining.
No, the Elder Greek God did not start complaining to me,(however I wouldn't 

blame him because Zeus sounds so much cooler than Jupiter but that's a different

 train of thought.)
No it was my daughters German Shepard that did.
So About 11ish I dragged my sluggish butt out of the bed and mumbling what I can

 only assume were Celtic magical incantations, because they were not words. 

Or English. Or even fully audible for that matter.
I let the dog out of his kennel and took him to the garage door.
Now here is where I must have not have been moving fast enough because as soon as 

I opened the door I was airborne.
The whole thing is kinda fuzzy so I do not know if I just tried to take a step 

and utterly failed at the simple act of walking
Or I was pushed out of the way by the furry lummox that is Zeus.
I am thinking it was the former but for the sake of ego, I am claiming the latter.
Anyway
I ended up on the garage floor and where my left foot was flat footed my right foot

 well I basically tried to stand on my ankle.
Yeah it is still bruised and painful.

From what I have pieced together I then went into the living room with the dogs

 and carried on a scintillating and intelligent text conversation with my daughter 

that was both witty and enlightening.
Yeah...
No.












I can vaguely remember typing on the phone but it's like looking through

 a Vaseline smeared lens

 and as for the typing I think it looked more like a 4 year old mashing piano keys

 than anything as dexterous as typing.

So as you can see kiddies, Just say No.

The Invisible Mom

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Best Analogy of the Existence of the Invisible God I’ve Ever Heard

By Patrick Morley

Even though we can’t see him, we believe in him.

My daughter-in-law sent me this story by Hungarian writer Útmutató a Léleknek:
In a mother’s womb were two babies. One asked the other: “Do you believe in life after delivery?”
The other replied, “Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”
“Nonsense,” said the first. “There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”
The second said, “I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we can’t understand now.”
The first replied, “That is absurd. Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. But the umbilical cord is so short. Life after delivery is to be logically excluded.”
The second insisted, “Well I think there is something, and maybe it’s different than it is here. Maybe we won’t need this physical cord anymore.”
The first replied, “Nonsense. And moreover, if there is life, then why has no one has ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”
“Well, I don’t know,” said the second, “but certainly we will meet Mother and she will take care of us.”
The first replied, “Mother? You actually believe in Mother? That’s laughable. If Mother exists then where is She now?”
The second said, “She is all around us. We are surrounded by her. We are of Her. It is in Her that we live. Without Her this world would not and could not exist.”
Said the first: “Well I don’t see Her, so it is only logical that She doesn’t exist.”
To which the second replied, “Sometimes, when you’re in silence and you focus and you really listen, you can perceive Her presence, and you can hear Her loving voice, calling down from above.”

I am not preachy and I dont flaunt my religion but I liked this analogy enough to add it here.

Hunting

Hunters.

You know, I get it. I truly do. I understand about the stalking of the prey thing. I've even done it.

Its not for me but I get it.

What I don't get...

What I don't understand is why do you hunt what you hunt?

You can hunt wild boar in the American South because there are an invasive species that needs to be culled or else they take over. Plus they are dangerous. Cool. knock yourselves out.

Or

If you need to hunt down a rogue tiger or elephant because they have endangered the populous. OK sure. I got your back on that one.

Even if you are hunting elk, antelope, deer, pheasant, etc. That's fine because the hunters that hunt these normally eat them too.

But walking into a lions territory and gunning him down. Nah that's not cool.

How would you like it if you were sitting at home and someone kicks your door down and says “ill give you to the count of 5” and then hunts you down and kills you just to have their picture taken next to your cold corpse.

Why kill a giraffe? Thats like going onto a farm and shooting farmer Joe's cow.

There is no sport in killing a docile animal.

There is a difference between killing a deer and a giraffe. The deer is going to be eaten the giraffe is purely for the sport.

As for elephants, that's just wrong. Clear across the board, its wrong.

I would rather see you give a 9mm to another human and then you can hunt each other. Now that would be sporty. That would be worth the picture.

Hunting a grizzly bear with a Bowie knife? Go for it. Hunting anything with just a Bowie knife is cool by me. That shows you have stealth and patience and endurance. Shooting a grazing animal from a football field away just shows you have a strong pocketbook.

I don't see it as sporting unless the animal has the same chance that you do.

Evenly matched.

A sporting chance as it were.

Watch for motorcycles

My nephew Andrew had just gotten off of work and was heading home. Home was just 2 blocks away and he was crossing an inersection on his motorcycle when he was struck by a young lady in her truck.

He fought a valiant fight for a few hours but eventually succumbed to his injuries. He left behind a young son and his wife of two weeks.

He was my first "son" and I do miss him greatly.