Blog Post
It’s Saturday, some of the world isn’t working and that would include me as well. So I’m musing about this and that.

Finding a New Career

We all know that it takes neither brains or talent to be the US President, but what about the British Prime Minister? On Juliette’s Blog, I read (her account) of Sir Winston Churchill walking out into the garden, standing there with the snake deployed and pissing on the roses while the maid gazed on.  It made me think that if I developed that talent (which Barack may not have since he pees sitting down) that I could be a great politician
If I had a seizure, fell and hit my head, maybe I too couldn’t remember anything, and I could be the Democratic Party’s contender — and I could lie to the FBI without recourse. Who says that fits can’t be profitable? I need to learn to foam at the mouth and do the chicken if I want to succeed. 
Nuptial Bliss and Warming a Chair
He was shot in the back of his
head. You can see the bullet
coming out of his forehead.
NOT the groom…
Friends invited me to their daughter’s wedding in downtown Santa Ana last night. The “wedding chapel” was a converted warehouse in an area where industrial meets the ghetto, not far from the courthouse where I used to work. Friday afternoon traffic in that part of California is something to behold. Manhattan, Mexico City, Athens, Beijing and London are not worse. I’ve done them all. 
You may ask yourself how good of friends they were to invite me to fill a chair. I’m beginning to wonder. The bride, a former lesbian, was turned straight by a Chinese guy whose parents don’t like the parents of the bride, so that was all fun to watch. It was not an open bar, but the small plastic cup of fountain Diet Coke was fifty cents…yes, that kind of wedding.

The food was served in two stations. Fish head soup and noodles on one side and sliders with french fries on the other.

The minister was a few bricks short, inappropriate and did everything except slap on an emergency clown nose. I found out from his monolog that he’s the preacher at a local rescue mission. Then it made sense.

After a slice of dried out cake, and some clapping at the first dance, the this and the that, I slithered out through a side door to battle traffic home. The friends came to my daughters weddings and I had to reciprocate. I brought a cash gift to pay them back for the re-gifted toasters and crock pots that they gave my kids.
Social Justice
Bill Gates, a liberal, weighs in and sounds conservative. Naturally he’s correct. 
And the residents of the greater Charlotte Mecklenburg area are taking Gates’ advice and enriching themselves at the expense of the local merchants — and leaving a Molotov Cocktail on their way out the door. Somehow, I don’t think that’s what Gates was talking about.
It’s fall, and all of my grandchildren play sports. Attending those games is always enjoyable. I shout, encourage, and am the perfect grandfather. I excoriate the competition and excuse their occasional fumbles and stumbles.
There are T-Ball, soccer and flag football games to attend and all of that is very important.
At the end of the game, there is the inevitable visit to the snack bar where grandpa buys (no Skittles anymore), a hot dog, etc for the kids. Because that’s what grandpas do.  There is a picnic of sorts as the kids eat their hot dogs and juice box. Then a return to the snack bar for an ice cream cone before handing them off to Mom and Dad. Sometimes there is chocolate for the road (to torture Mom and Dad).

The big ramp-up to Halloween is underway and my two granddaughters who live with me are no exception. Savannah walked into my den the modeled her new princess dress and wand (right), giving you a glimpse of both my sweet granddaughter and the interior of the Bat Cave.

The granddaughters will be both be princesses and the grandsons will be various super heroes and mutant ninja turtles, which are heroes to reptiles worldwide.

The annual candy harvest is something that is looked forward as being only a stepping stone away from Christmas (the big haul).

The Libertarian Option

Gary Johnson is a fool.

Yes, you never Trump people…rally around Gary Johnson. He’s a doofus. (see “Finding a New Career” at the top of the page) A Clinton administration would be like a pig rodeo, but Johnson. Really?

There are some good people in Congress who I think would have made credible candidates for the US Presidency, but they were either honest (and didn’t have the backing of the corrupt machine or Wall Street like Ted Cruz), or lacked general support. There was Jeb! the dynastic candidate who nobody wanted – and according to Fallon, is driving an Uber to make ends meet these days.

Clinton should be in prison, Johnson should be managing a fast food restaurant. Stein is a good comrade and crusader/community organizer in addition to work as a medical doctor with a coat hanger in one pocket and a stethoscope around her neck.

At least Donald Trump has his heart in the right place, backs the Second Amendment, and has met a payroll and knows what it’s like to have the government boot on his neck. He’s the only option and all he wants is that America be great again.

37 thoughts on “Contemplation

  1. Yay, I got here before Fredd! I use your friend Fredd, (who seems to work on GMT) as my time sensitive rule of thumb. If I get to comment before he does, I'm going to have a productive day – if I don't I know I'm going to muddle through chaotically. And it's actually accurate. Fredd is now my time nemesis. But I digress…
    Larry, I think you'd make a great PM but as I said on my post, you will need to pledge allegiance to warm ale, hot tea with milk and fish and chips served in newspaper print or the Brits won't be having any of it. Pissing on roses is no problem; we call that being "one of the lads"
    Your Granddaughter is most definitely a beautiful princess and that, Sir, is gonna cost you 🙂

  2. ..But, if you get the job you have to make me Chief of Staff and Chief of Clowns. Otherwise I'll have you thrown in the Tower of London.

  3. Jules: the early bird gets the worm, and it appears I shall go wormless today. At my advanced age of 61, my bedtime is now 8:45 PM, and wake up in the morning is 4:45AM Central Standard Time.

    I used to subscribe to the Chicago Tribune, which I would read in the morning with a cup or two (or 5) of what we Yankees call 'joe.' But the Trib just got too liberal for me, and now I just read Virtual Reality to replace it. LL is every bit as informed as those left wing moonbats at the Trib. More so, in fact. I do, however, miss the Trib comics section, but LL's story of Gary Johnson is a suitable substitute today.

  4. *makes note in diary of Fredd's wake up time. Being 6 hours ahead of the game means getting here before my elevenses to be victorious*

  5. I'm not sure what happened – probably Hillary hacked me. Trump may be a goober, but he "just looked a whole lot better…"

  6. Wow, a needle-dick Chink saved a woman from a life of muff diving? He must have a nine inch tongue and can breathe through his ears. I personally never saved a women like that, though I might have driven a couple to become lick sisters (sigh). You should have video’ed the wedding. I bet that was an experience. Have fun with the grandkids. Those days will be over way too soon. And I think Johnson is a Johnson.

  7. Can't I simply pour English tea over ice? Add a little lemon and sweetener? I love fish and chips but the mushy peas would be banned.

    Cost me? You have no idea.

  8. I've always said that people need to give Trump a chance. Hillary has had a million chances and a million failures — and that's just how it shakes out.

  9. I pretty much hate all weddings, but the one you attended sounds really bad.

    I saw that Johnson vid somewhere else. Unfortunately, what is seen can not be unseen.

    I've been a Trump fan since his long ride down the escalator. His escalator in his building, I might add.

  10. No you bloody can't, you philistine! And mushy peas are a staple. Thou needs somet moist with yer chip supper, lad.

  11. Barack would say, "YOU DIDN'T BUILD THAT" to Trump. But Trump would just laugh at the goofy moron.

    I hate all weddings — except one wedding that I attended in Palos Verdes (up the cliffs from the ocean) where a lady who worked for me married one of the LA Raiders (from the football team). The whole team was there and the wedding itself was exceptionally fun. But of all the weddings I've attended that's it. Just the one.

  12. I'm an ugly man. I'd make a hideous woman and I'm very attached to my dick – so princess is out.

    Barack is both a politician and a princess, so it is possible to be both.

  13. And make a hell of a lot more money. (If, indeed, money is worth anything)
    Better deal in gold.

    And, you need a 15-20 foot pile of skulls near the gates…but not too near. They really smell like shit in the summer.

  14. I need to have the skulls cleaned by carrion beetles and then lacquered before they are piled near the gates. I realize that would defeat some of the purpose, but all for hygiene…

  15. Thankfully the grands took after their mother 🙂 And that 'must' have been an interesting wedding…LOL

  16. "…one of the lads."

    "Lad" is an English slang term roughly equivalent to "Dudebro". Except apparently a more nancy, big girl's blouse version of "Dudebro" that completely loses its shit at the sight of a lockback pocket knife of the variety usually given to Texans on their eighth birthday.

    H/T VFTP

  17. Okay – I take that back. A friend got married in Crown King, AZ, whose population is now a whopping 133. Back then it was about 60. The road at that time was scattered with boulders and we had to drive the 27 miles off I-17 in a low slung caddy. We cursed the bride every inch of the way. Boy, were we wrong. We had a before party at the mayors house (which you can now rent for $165.00 per night.) The bride road into her wedding on a horse wearing a vintage lace dress and white cowboy boots. Afterwords, we all had the one of the best steak dinners I've ever had in the Saloon (still there.) Many of the guests stayed over night in sleeping bags in the bar (handy!) We completely forgave her the boulders in the road.

    You should Google Crown King and look at some of the pictures. It looks exactly the same as 30 years ago. Hope they graded the road, though.

  18. I can only hope that Jules is not putting me in the category of a "pajama boy" because I'm willing to urinate on roses at 10 Downing St. in order to advance my career.

    I haven't had a sip of cocoa in many years.

  19. My grandchildren only inherited the best of my DNA. All of the crap ended up on the cutting room floor.

    The wedding was – rude. The skid row evangelist apparently knows the wedded couple and discussed what they'd told him about the first time the they had sex, right there in the service. I didn't go into details (above), but I cringed.

  20. I know where Crown King is. It's roughly 100 miles from the new compound. The road in from I-17 is rough. I am told that the road down from Prescott is better, which is why I've never taken that road.

    Crown King is cool.

  21. This guy Johnson can always say "I ran for president." He probably doesn't stop to think that's about equal to saying, "I slammed my dick in the door of a bar-room in Bangkok." No Larry, I didn't do that, but I knew several people who did. And they didn't even have to buy TV time to tell people about it.

  22. What? Not to put too finer point on it, but I think I understand the term "one of the lads" better since I live in England. I wouldn't go calling them Nancy boys down the East End or back streets of Salford- those types have been playing with knives before they were 8 years old…

  23. My brother stabbed me in the arm with a dagger when I was younger than 8, I shot a deer when I was 7. These are AMERICANS that Solartov is talking about. ;^)

  24. I have NEVER slammed my dick in the door of a bar-room in Bangkok. I've done a lot of stupid things but never that one. I'm old enough that I will likely forgo that Earthly pleasure unless I'm reincarnated (the way that Bill [a Buddhist friend] predicts). I will venture that Bill slammed his dick in a bar-room door in Bangkok. If not actually, then metaphorically. I know that he did it in the Philippines.

  25. Give her my best and convey a dinner invitation next time I'm in town – which will be more frequently in the coming months. We can have a pig sandwich at the St. Francis or anything else.

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