Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes! The New Substack is up, and yeah, haven’t started charging for it yet. I keep getting told I should… maybe I’ll get around to it one of these weeks. Either way, Sunday!!! Sunday!!! Sunday!!! ‘Member them “Monster Truck” Commercials? back in the day?
Good shit there… Only went once to one of those rallies. It was one of the kids in school’s b-day party… his Dad was BIG into NASCAR and Monster Trucks. THANK whatever Deity that DeadDad was wired into, as he made me bring/wear earpro. Like HIS big ole googly-earmuffs we normally only wore when we went shooting. I took some shit from the other kids. Initially We ended up having to leave about 40 minutes into the show. ALL the kids, (‘cept me) and the Adults had headaches and were deaf AF… those who didn’t have earplugs that is. Me? I was the only one who suffered no ill effects.
So, Latest and Greatest From Da Kraine. Seems that there’s a viday out there. H/T to Shitshow over on Gab, for the Yewtoob link, but I already had it… Sapper N I watched it last night. Longer than the usual 2-3 minute ‘combat vidya’:
WTF!?! SrlsY?
I can embed it easier from the YT than the Russian site that it was originally poasted on. A quick Breakdown of the TL;DW.
From what it appears to be is a lone T Variant (80? 90? Not sure) Russian Tank that essentially goes on a full on suicide run. Like no joke. The Ukies are coming in (from the right side as the video is oriented) on what appears to be a meeting engagement of two Tanks (probably T-64s as that’s the majority of what the Krainians have left at this point) as well as what seem to be some (3? 4?) US Made Maxxpro MRAPs. Reason I say that’s what they are is that INSANELY High-Profile is visible from the vidya even at 2 or 3 kliks away.
The ‘narrator’ of the story appears to be the Drone Operator and his chief? boss? Unknown but BOTH of them are like flat out floored at the size of the Balls on the Crew of this Tank of theirs… The tank keeps dodging, juking and weaving, and keeps blowing the ever living shit out of the Krainians, much to the amazement of the Drone Operator(s). VERY cool video if they could get more footage or after-action footage…
Looks bad for the ‘Home Team’ in that particular vid. Which then leads me into an article I found that was written in google-translated English-from-Russian talking about the captured western gear. The link to the article is HERE and pretty much tells you what -I- expected.
Literally, no earth shattering reveals here to be seen.
The biggest takeaway that the Russians did get was that “…the maintainability of Western technology is “extremely low, especially in the field.” It also features resource-intensive maintenance. This situation is caused by “design features”, sometimes irrational, the source said.” Which is by design of course.
The Russians build their gear to be maintainable, as we used to for the crew to be able to do basic, hell even complex maintenance in the field. These days? Not so much. The Military Industrial Complex needs those machines to requirehighly specialized tools and replacement parts that only THEY can supply. That AND the technicians themselves for that matter.
In Afghanistan, 90% of the maintenance of the newer M-ATV (Oshkosk made) was ALL performed by factory technicians.
Like ALL of it. The –only– time I saw ANY ‘wrenching’ being done on the M-ATV was basic PMCS, which stands for Preventative Maintenance Checks and Services, i.e. make sure the oil and cherry juice is topped off, that the leaks are within spec (they always leak) and that was about it.
ZERO Unauthorized wrenching. ALL of it done by “Forward Placed/Based” Maintenance Technicians supplied by the various Usual Suspects like KBR, CACI and the like… exactly who is providing the wrenching for these projects? Not sure. Initially there were a LOT of calls for guys to go over, myself included, but since I’m not a Vehicle Tech, I have no real clue on what the deal is for the Krainians toys.
I’m sure there’s a nice, big, fat juicy Cost Plus Contract that was awarded somewhere without oversight and or bidding. Like Millions, if not Billions long term, ‘cos these cost plus gigs are never short term.
They’re ALL invariably long term, fixed priced, and include a parts program for all the fiddly bits that’re needed, ‘cos as Ivan said, the somewhat “irrational design features” are just that… A feature, not a bug.
It’s so that Uncle Sugar is ‘forced’ to buy the $700 gasket that -could- probably be made/gotten for $.07 cents, but which would mean that Senator Pusnuts Faggotface doesn’t get to “bring home the pork” to his constituents in the form of long-term manufacturing contracts. Which, by the by are usually then re-farmed out to Chy-Nah as a subcontracted piece-per-pay work anyways at a quarter cost of what the actual retail price would be.
And then, Lo and Behold! When the reality of “We need this NOW (JIT Delivery, just in time for those unfamiliar)” comes around, and then suddenly: “Hey! There’s a delay ‘cos the sub-contractor in West Laos has a localized supply issue, but we’re sure it’ll be resolved in a few weeks!” No one ever seems to be held responsible, even though it may cost lives. Thankfully our DotMil has never (so far) had to go IRL toe-to-toe with a peer DotMil since Korea, ‘cos right now?
Ain’t no way in FUCK are we in any way, shape or form capable of doing anything against Russia, never mind China… hell I think even the Canadians if they decided to get squirrelly up in Vermont, ain’t a whole hell of a lot we -could- do. The very fact that the Russians have called out the essentially unrepairable nature of our heavy gear, (and even then, they haven’t seen an Abrams yet) and the overly-complex designs which are NOT meant to ‘protect’ the people on said heavies, but to further the profit(s) of the manufacturers via an expensive and/or complex repair need on said parts.
I mean no wonder the Brits ordered the Krainians to NOT field the Challenger… it’s not the ‘sooper-secret-armor composition I think, inasmuch is that it’d me poor advertising of their “best Tank” when it comes to potentially selling them to other countries like Egypt or Saudi, both of whom in the past have bought British Tanks.
Hell, Krauss-Maffei, the makes of the Leos have gotten the proverbial ‘black eye’ when it comes to just how lame their Leopard II Alpha 6 model was/is. Before when the Leo IIs were getting smoked in Yemen, the excuse was that it was the ‘export model’ and “not as good as the 2A6” as it was the export model and therefor not the best version. The Krainians put that lie to rest mighty quick, or rather, I should say that the Russians did… rather quickly, and I think now that’s part of the reason that they’re continuing this stupidity. Russia needs to be punished for showing that the Germans vaunted Leopard Tanks ain’t so vaunted Aye?
You can only imagine how bad it’d be IF they’d actually sent the M1’s over there… There’s a LOT of leaked footage and pictures of the Yemen fight again showing the ‘export model’ of the Abrams ALLLLLLL sorts of torched up. General Dynamics’d be well on the hook for another spectacular failure…
Anyways, food for thought. More Later, I’m baking Chocolate Chip Cookies tonight. Big Country
Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes! Another day come and gone. This one, again, I literally slept completely away. The docs say it’s because I’m running at full steam all week long that by the time the weekend comes around, my batteries are ‘depleted’.
You know it was a full nights sleep when your ‘breakfast’ is Sapper waking you up with Papa Johns. At 1730. Sheesh. Last night though was fun and productive. I made and we all ate the entirity of the batch of molasses cookies I made. They were a bit too ‘poofy’ (a wee too much baking soda… just a lil too much) that made them a bit more ‘cakey’ than I like but the flavor was so good… between the three of us, we killed the whole batch.
The diet? What diet of which do you speak? Actually, the diet has been going gangbusters. 4 weeks, and Ozempic and man, I’m down almost 29 pounds in total. Between eating well, no soda (outside of a morning Monster/RipIt) and walking? I’m rapidly getting back into good shape.
So I can let it go when I bake up a premium batch of good cookies and gorge.
Now, as to recent events: Bitch McConnell?
Yeah The Gerontocracy ain’t looking too good these days…
Pretty sure that IF the Founding Fathers had thought it possible, there would have been an “Aging Out” Clause put in the Rules.
Thing was, back then? The average age/life expectancy of a Male in 1776 was 38 years old. Only the ‘genetically blessed and/or ‘well off’ (like Washington/Franklin and the rest) made it past their fifties… Hell, Washington cashed in at 67, which back then was old.
The very fact that these fucking retards are saying that the current Pretender to the Glorious and Harmonious P&PBUH (Plus 10%) Orifice of The (p)Resident, The Dementor-in-Chief, Emperor Poopypants the First, Chief Executive of the Kidsmeller Pursuivant, Good Ole Slo Xi-Den is up for re-election!?!
Fucker is already the oldest, most worthless skin-puppet in the Orifice NOW and in history… never mind that IF they manage to steal the whole show again, he’d be 82 fucking drooling years old when he’d have to take the Oath again, not that taking the Oath means –anything– any longer.
And because they ALL have been making sure that they’re essentially ‘the only ones capable of doing the job’, i.e. insuring that they don’t have viable replacements (as having a viable replacement makes them vulnerable, so that’s a no-go) means that WHEN they die, as it will happen…no threats, it’s just a statement of nature/facts, (despite how they LOVE to try and change reality to suit their twisted egos) that there ain’t no capable people to carry on… which opens up a bunch of potentially unpleasant problems… I mean the VP? Harris-the-Ho was picked BECAUSE she was a vacuum-skulled half breed dothead-black chick with no real chops… and all the rest of the ‘new breed’ are either hopelessly compromised/Judaized (Zioclops Crenshaw for one) or utterly dementedly stupid (Occasional Cortex, the Titty Bar Slore) that we as a country? Yeah We’re fucked.
I mean looking at Feinstein? Are we sure she’s actually alive? Modern servo-technology and nanobots have come a long way… for all we know that corpse in a chair is literally reanimated in another room, and they only wheel her out of the fridge for public votes that she has to be visibly present at.
It’s “Weekend at Bernies” 24-7 these days. As they say “This will not end well” More Later Big Country
Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes! What a week we’ve had here at Ye Olde Casa. Dad’s medical condition has improved, however, both of Gretchen’s ‘rents are firmly believing that they can handle taking care of themselves still whereas the evidence shows that they’re not.
We got the report from “I’vefallenandcan’tgetup dot com (j/k) and it shows that Dad’s taken a header at least 24 times in the past 18 months. One day it was 3 in a row. However, they’re not listening, nor wanting to hear it. I’m of half a mind to just hand him my pistola with one round and telling him to just get it over with now, as opposed to dragging us through all this non-stop bullshit. >Le Sigh< We all know I can’t and won’t, but yeah, that’s where I’m at at this point. The daily drive for Gretchen has been killing her, never mind cutting into any of our (non-existing) extra income. It’s like a $50 trip each time, which adds up. She’s even offered to go back and live there half the week, just to make sure there’s some stability, but then they refuse even that.
So, he’s got physical rehab ahead of him, and he’s telling us that he’s NOT going. Told Gretchen to tell him he either does rehab, or we won’t bring the Gran up for a visit. I hate to be the asshole in this, but I’m overstressed, overtaxed and generally, I’m wore-the-fuck-out.
A couple of bright lights here though have been you guys. The donations we got have been keeping our heads above water (thank you for all that y’all have done on that let me tell you…) and another thing was I got a rather ‘cryptic email’ from “Steady Steve” warning me of a ‘package inbound’ and to be aware.
Now, generally, things like that are to be approached with Level 4 MOPP Gear and/or an EOD Suit… that being said Steve has sent me some stuff in the past, so I wasn’t too concerned. What did show was a rather lavish gift of some premium steaks packed in dry ice. Like try Waygu Filet Mignon.
There’s steaks, and then there’s fucking steaks man!!! Holy. Shit. The note included mentioned his apparent horror that we’d been fucked up via that bad Mickey D’s we had a ways back, and so he gifted us some top end steaks…
Hoo boy man… I’m gonna have to think long and hard of the “how and when” for them babies… Waygu? Never had it before and I sure AF don’t want to fuck it up when I cook them… any advice from the peanut galley is welcome, as that level of beef is beyond my skill set/knowledge.
The other aspect of the gift was the comedy that I had messing with the animals… I took the dry ice and did the “make it foggy/steamy” by putting water on it… The Sausage Princess was alllll sorts of weirded out… I didn’t let her get close to the ice itself, but when I ‘watered it down’ and it went all sizzling and foggy, she tripped. Pretty humorous.
Again, me most ‘umble thanks to Steady Steve for his unbelievable gifty. They will be enjoyed to the max bro.
Now, as far as ‘current events’ Lets see… biddness as usual. Everything is “fucked”, heading towards “more fucked” with a slight chance of “increased fuckery” in the interim. The very fact that they haven’t gone after the Pretender to the Glorious and Harmonious P&PBUH (Plus 10%) Orifice of The (p)Resident, The Dementor-in-Chief, Emperor Poopypants the First, Chief Executive of the Kidsmeller Pursuivant, Good Ole Slo Xi-Den for what are blatant and obvious “high crimes and/or misdemeanors” when they literally tried to fry a sitting President for making a fucking phone call is not lost on “Joe Sixpack”
The disparity is what’s going to get them in deeeeeeep shit. I mean the IRS announced they’re no longer going to show up at people’s domiciles, probably ‘cos they know they’re more than likely to ‘disappear’, seeings that “…if the (p)Resident’s worthless crackwhore son gets away without paying taxes, why the fuck should we?” If there was ever a moment where the old western “Multiple S’s” come into play, that’d be it. Those being: Shoot ’em Shovel ’em and Shut up about it. I got a buddy with a John Deer, 10 acres and he’s a good friend. The definition of which being one who helps dispose of the bodies Aye? Make of it what you will. Just remember, it takes two parts bleach and one part peroxide to fully remove bloodstains. Jes’ Sayin’
Now, as far as economic ‘stuff’… I happened on something recently that was a HUGE indicator of “shrinkflation” as they call it. I ran out of Garlic Powder. Now, in this house? That qualifies as an emergency. I use that shit in everything. I use real garlic when I need to, but for ‘fast and dirty’ dinner making, a dash of the powder works in the interim. Besides, lots of the dishes I make, I don’t want/need the itty-bits of the garlic floating around in whatever I’m making.
So I ran to Publix, and bought the BIG jug of Garlic Powder they have. It wasn’t until I got home until I saw the difference:
Now, I fished the empty one out of the trash for the picture.
The new one is on the right, and was in the spice rack area that all the ‘other’ BIG bottles/jugs of spices are. The label on the spice rack in the store even shows the same label for the one one the left. My guess is this’s a new change, and they haven’t gotten up to speed.
First thing though, is you can tell right off the bat is size difference. 9oz on the old, versus 7.2oz on the new. The new jug is also just a wee bit ‘thinner’ than the older one, without the flaring. I even asked the kid if this was the ‘intermediate’ size bottle, and he was like “Nope, that’s the ‘new’ BIG bottle.” Told me he had a LOT of customers asking about it, as the cost?
The new one at 7.2oz costs as much as the old 9oz one did.
Granted, maybe being a bit petty here, however, it’s indicative of a greater problem, that being costs being ‘artificially maintained’… I.E. I buy what I think is “the big jug of spice” and yeah, I did, and yeah I paid for what I paid for it the last time.
HOWEVER
Reality is, I lost 1.8oz of product in the deal. That adds up pretty quickly when dealing in bulk. Just for grins, I calculated that the ‘missing 1.8oz’ makes up, in a case of the product call it 12 bottles in a case for shits n grins, an old case of 9oz bottles is 108oz. Say a bottle costs $5. That’s $60 a case for 108oz worth of product. (Mind you I’m making up all of these numbers purely for demonstrative purposes)
But when you lower the amount of product, and charge the same price? At 7.2oz per bottle, instead of 12 bottles, you get 15 bottles of product with a $15 profit.. 12 Bottles of 7.2oz worth of product comes out to 86.4oz of total product per case. That leaves 21.6oz of ‘free range product’ if you will, which just so happens to be enough to fill -exactly- three more bottles.
By shrinking the amount per bottle, and charging the same (the theoretical $5 per bottle) that’s $15 that’s now a ‘freebie’ but still hurts the consumer, ‘cos, leastways in THIS house? I’m going to be burning through 7.2oz of Garlic powder a hell of a lot quicker than I would have on the 9oz jug.
Now, multiply that by thousands of cases/bottles. Pretty good gig if you can get it Aye? Let me know what y’all see shrinkflation-wise as well… I’d be curious. I know Publix isn’t per se trying to fuck over the consumer, but this IS a pretty obvious case where the numbers and the ‘skim’ worked out pretty evenly, considering I pulled the dozen bottles per case and the $5 per bottle out of my ass, just for making an example.
And yes, the Substack will be up NLT Sunday. I had to trash the original one, as ‘current events’ in the Krain have gone sideways, and my points that I had done up are now moot. So, instead, I’m doing a writeup that will be a must read. Check it out. So, More Later Big Country
Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes! OK… JUST woke up. Got a call on Sunday Morning, 0830. Dad had fallen again.
This time he was transported to the ER. Head injuries and multiple contusions. How in the Hell he got that banged up falling in that teeny bathroom beats the shit out of me… So, instead of a nice lounging day, Up and fly to the Villages (no escort this time).
Find out that the time before that he fell and that we we not notified b/c friggin’ Mom managed to bamboozle the LifeFon Folks into NOT calling he broke a rib and snapped his femur implant from when he got in that car wreck a few years ago.
Four times now in the past month that we know of.
Two of them in the past 48 hours Plus, this time, he’s got bedsores on his ass that we weren’t notified about, pneumonia, and liquids in his chest cavity (over a liter and a half drained!) from the broken rib. Plus a concussion, and ripped skin on the elbow and knees. Lost of blood, but not really that bad… like I said, he’s got a fuckton of other things we had no idea about.
The Neurologist has been brought in ‘cos they now think his balance is perma-shot thru Uh yeah… ya fucking think? So I’m out of pocket for now. We were dealing with Mom (who’s oars ain’t fully in the water if you dig me) and Dad, who I’m –hoping– pulls through. I’ll get back on the Sub and things as we go. Told Dad he’d better get better so’s I can fucking kill him next time around. At least Glorious Tractor Factory is covering me (without pay amiright?) More Later, Appreciate all the support BCE
Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes! Kind of tired today. The whole Fam packed up and went over to meet with Ranger J and his side of the Clan, and we spent the majority of the day at the pool in his rather upscale neighborhood center. Got me quite a bit of sun, as did Gretchen, who actually didn’t come out of the pool all. day. long. Ranger J’s wife Lee and his sister were part of the fun, as well as some big assed container/cooler of a Rum Based Jungle Juice they were all hitting.
Good Times, Good Times.
Gretchen looks pretty damned good these days…
Sapper for the most part was neck deep in his latest book, and me? I was just grooving on the whole day. Hit about 100 today, but the humidity was down, and there was a nice off shore breeze hitting us. RJ is over at Apollo Beach, and like I said, a bit on the upscale side of nice. The pool is one of the ‘adult pools’ so we didn’t have the usual passel of screaming kiddos, as that’s for the other pool/splashpad which we could hear off in the distance.
We DID again get another call with Adrianna. This time a vidya chat with her and the BabyDaddy. We all, Sapper, Gretchen and I got a turn chatting her up, and at one point Gretchen, despite being on a video call, played ‘chase’ around the house in Tennessee, with the BabyDaddy running after her, holding the phone so’s Gretchen face was on there going “I’mmmm gonna getcha!!!” to much squeals of delight and laughter. I did the “Oogie-Boogie-Boogie” voice when it was my turn…
Tell you what, and no, I’m not going soft, but I will say, the BD is doing his best, and being very cool about this, as there –is– a court order that we’re supposed to have ZERO contact, and as he put it, “Y’all are kin, and it ain’t right what DC done did like that.” I’m even now seeing that almost all of his issues stem from her… she done did him up wrong and hard. Granted, he’s no prince, HOWEVER…
He’s doing well by us and Addy, and I suppose that’s what really counts. That and he’s also talking about wanting to bring her down here for a visit… we shall see. We ALL are in agreement that Dumbcunt is cancer in human form, and well, we’ll just have to see how it goes.
Long Game and all that Wot?
So… Substack Tomorrow. Working on it. Got some typing done this AM, only to debate on starting over. That’s one thing as a writer that irritates me… sometimes you just know what you wrote is crap, and it’s ‘do over time’. The framework is there, but the words just weren’t ‘flowing‘ so to speak. Maybe tomorrow…
As now? Early in the AM we have to go to Mom and Dads. Got the call from LifeAlert. Dad took another ass over teakettle. He’s fine, BUT: The deal was if he fell AGAIN within a 3 month Period, I think it was from June 10th to August 10th, then we had to talk about doing the assisted living thing. Even worse about THIS incident is when Gretchen called her Mom, she flat out told us that she “…had told those people not to tell us this had happened!” Which is -literally- a WTF? kind of thing….
So, now we have to have a bit of a tough talk. The main issue is, Dad took the tumble again and he’s taken a tumble each time while using a 4 point walker assist. In fact this time? He stood up to go to the bathroom, got “dizzy” and fell over. On to the carpet again, and managed to miss the furniture thankfully.
The last time he fell in the bathroom and if it wasn’t for falling into the shower curtain which broke his fall, it would have been a hell of a lot worse. He still managed to break off the porcelain soap thing on the wall that’s like the standard soap dish in gajillions of houses, so now at some point I have to repair/replace that. Before that? He fell backwards getting off the throne, and broke the tank off, which I then had to spend the day and a lot of $$$ getting a new shitter and installing said-crapper
Love ’em both, but maaaaaaan
It’s time for that tough talk… not for nothing the very fact that they’re almost two hours away by car (an hour and a half if we’re flying/police escorted, and yeah that’s happened too) but it’s getting time for a Reality Check, which is they just. can’t do. it. anymore. Ugh. One Weekend… just one weekend I’d like literally nothing to go on but maybe sleep in, get laid, have some food, watch some TV and call it a weekend. Meh…
So, let me wrap this for now. I got more coming. More Later Big Country
Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes! Ahhhh the weekend. What a bonus after this particular week. Between Goyslop Poisoning, being overtired, then waking up at odd hours, and the add on of stress from the Glorious Peoples Tractor Factory? Yeah, I’ma having a -few- hits from Ye Olde Irish Tears. Namely my fave Tullamore Dew.
Part of my problem is I’ve done too good a job at the Factory. Now Head Commissars are writing Checks on Lowly Worker’s Body to Clients that he can’t can’t make good on. I mean it’s complimentary that the Top of Current Politburo think so highly of me, but at the same time, I’m doing a hell of a lot more than I’m getting paid for.
Whatever happened to “From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs”?
I got a fuckton of ability, but I sure as Hell ain’t getting a taste of what I need… meaning a raise and/or another person to help me out, as I’m fucking swamped. I mean Glorious People’s Tractor Factory is actually getting more clients specifically because of my work but it has yet to translate to even a raise.
Did I mention last November was my One Year with the Factory?
Not so much as even a “Congratulations”
In fact, the H.R. Cunt fucking openly snubbed me. There’s a daily email she puts out… with a list of people who’ll be out, with pithy little worthless H.R. sayings like “Let the wind of one help lift all of us” and new age fuckery like that, as well as at the very bottom “Congratulations to John/Jane Smith on ‘X’ number of years with the Company!” with everyone else who’s managed to suck it up, and stick around and whatnot.
Me? Nada. No mention at all
I’ve never even met the bitch. And the email I sent to the Chairman of the Politburo regarding the snub and a LOT of other things I’ve had to deal with specifically relating to her?
Never heard –anything– back.
Shit like that just shoots the morale right in the ass. I do know that H.R. beeatcha has issues with the IT Commissar, and it may be that it’s a guilt by association as he did get me the job (thanks Bro!) and we’ve been friends now a while, BUT
Tell you what, next time I’m at HQ, I’m going to verbally, politely mind you, but put her the fuck on notice that I am not to be fucked with.
What I’d really like to do is dig a hole, and fill it in But that’d be the old, unmedicated Big Country. This’s the newer, kinder, medicated one.
For Now.
Anyways. Besides bitching about work, I figured out what the Weekend Substack is going to be. Pretty much MY take on what’s going on currently in the Kraine, and how what we see may not be what reality is… Wheels within Wheels and all that. Lots of info, as well as I’ve started a new print project with the 3D Printer. Making some fun stuff that IF it works out, I’ll let you know.
I’m also planning a raffle next week. Got me something cool and sort of Unique to a point. I’ll be putting it on the Substack for your viewing pleasure. Russian Related and related to my write up I’m working on. Which also brings me to the whole “Make it a pay-for-play or not?” meaning the Substack? Right now, I’m leaning towards keeping it open, as long as a few folks keep subscribing.
Lets face it, I need the cash. The move back here totally fucked me, and breaking the lease, the internet bill, (helped by y’all, many thanks!) and allllll the subsequent fuckery that is still ongoing… I haven’t mentioned it, but Dumbcunts Lawyer filed a motion to collect a chunk of what was raised by us on the GiveSendGo for the fight to save Adriana.
They’re trying to say that because she’s the Mom, and we used her as the reason to raise the cash, that somehow, she’s entitled to half of the final take, of which there ain’t shit left of, as we used it to do exactly what we said we were using it for, which was to try and save the kid from her and the BabyDaddy. How the fuck that even works is beyond me, but, I guess there’s “The Law” and then “Tennessee Law for Outsiders”… It’s ongoing, but at least the BabyDaddy is staying out of it. In fact, he’s actually being rather cool.
As you know, we essentially lost, mainly because the Mother (Dumbcunt) pulled all sorts of shit towards the end, which is still ongoing and the Judge in this farce-of-a-case decided to fuck us over even moar. Without recapping too much, we had a judgement against us that removed our visitation and any and all rights to her unless we paid Dumbcunt half of the raised $$$.
That’s like $26k, which we don’t have. We told the court, the judge and her to go fuck themselves. Hell… she doesn’t even have custody of her. However… not sure how or why this even was legal, as we don’t/didn’t/won’t have $$$ for a new lawyer to fight, so we bailed to Florida, and since then, the only current summary judgement against us is No more seeing/visitation. Not sure where we stand as far as $$$ to Dumbcunt, but as I told Gretchen, “It’s hard to collect if……………………” Which really put me in an exceptionally bad place
Which now comes in something a bit different.
The BabyDaddy has, despite court orders, been doing Video Chats with Addy and us, as well as keeping us in the loop. She totally remembers us, and gets all fired up to talk to us. Her language ability IMO is still behind but she -is- considering the environment and circumstances, coming along. Here’s Her latest:
OMG that smile….
I’ll give the boy this, she looks happy, is clean and outside of that HORRIBLE haircut, looks and when she talks to us is doing great. Breaks my heart to a point that she IS doing that well, BUT
My entire issue was to make sure she’s taken care of, and is still the number one mission. I’ve told the BabyDaddy if he even fucks up one micrometer, I’ll be up there like a fucking plague that kills everything and everyone in my path Seems he’s taken that to heart, which, despite my own selfish motivations (as I miss her soooooo fucking much) she’s doing well with him.
That being said, he’s being good. So Far. Shocks the fuck out of me, but hey… The Dumbcunt on the other hand? Let’s just say I wouldn’t expect her to have a fulfilling experience overall in the long run.
I’ll handle things as I always have, God’s Hand on mine, In His time, As He wills it. Amen.
So, on short, I’ll leave it at that. Been a full day. More Later Big Country
Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes! Man, so much for Mickey D’s. Gretch surprised me with a double chee-booger for lunch yesterday when she got back to the house. She had a coupon on the app for 30% off, and a clipped paper coupon (yeah, she does that too… a lost art form in itself). Been a long time since I had a Clownburger.
Gonna be an even longer time now. No idea who had what and/or transmitted what but I’ve been doing wind sprints between the bathroom all day sick as a dog. Gretch has been in the bed, alternating as we got two full bathrooms here, and both have been overtaxed like a champ today.
Glad some of you all appreciated my story about Ole Pud. I re-read it myself this AM and realized I forgot to mention that he looked damned near exactly like the pic I got off the Goolag. Big Satan-Black sucker. Some chicks who used to ‘come ’round the way’ initially were scared to death of him, as he was a Giant Catzilla looking beastie. That ALWAYS changed in 0.2 seconds though because Ole Pud was a Man-cat’s Man-cat. Another thing I forgot to mention he was a whore… Pre-Ball Chop, we’d hear him servicing all the local cats in the area… two cats going at it is a loud violent affair. So as far as Hoomon Females? He’d amble up to -anything- female and start lovin’ for skritchums. He also may have had a lil bitch kitten meow, but when he purred? He sounded like a Detroit diesel at idle. Loud doesn’t begin to cover it. That’s a big reason we think he started slaughtering, well everything because of the nuts being gone. Couldn’t bang the locals, so he needed a new hobby.
Anyways Another thing, I do belong to Navy Fed. The problem is that we only have ONE locally, which sucks and is overrun with Muh Diversity all. the. time. and there’s ZERO ATMs outside of that one location. There is a location at McDill, and that’s a hour hump away. I know a lot of stuff is done on line, but to fully transfer over is a pain in the ass. Have to see what happens as we progress through the stoopid.
Now, for Poly-Tics:
Let’s translate this: “He’s a gud boi! He dindu nuffin’!!” I was going to make this a ‘guess the race’ contest but as you can tell, and has already been broadcast, the moron in question is a blaqq kid.
Pvt (E-Nothing for reasons we’ll get into) Travis King while on a tour of the DMZ in Panmunjum suddenly broke away and ran across the border to Norksville. The Norks snatched up the kid, and that’s the last he’s been seen, and hopefully will be.
Initial reports read like he’d been snatched. Then the real-time story, out of New Zealand started seeping out as some NZ Folks were on tour with him, and got interviewed by NZ news. The Puzzle Palace found itself on the back foot as like I said, they seemed to be starting to angle that the Norks had grabbed him. The tourists from NZ however crushed that shit right off stating that he ran across the border, grinning like the fool he is, flipped off the US side and ran right to the NK guards, who then hustled him off to who-cares-where. They thought it was a TikTok stunt.
Heh. Nope. In fact as we get deeper into this shallow-dweller-of-the-Muh Diversity Gene pool, it’s a nigger being a nigger. Seems that Travis had just been released from a two-month stint in a South Korean jail for assault and other monkeyshines. Even before this (and now being madly downplayed) is he had been ‘on the radar’ for acting like a thug on the regular towards the locals.
The arrest for assault on a South Korean wasn’t even the first. No no… the first one he got off because his race card actually worked on the local he’d beaten on didn’t “…want the young soldier to get in trouble.” Thing of it is, once the Local Cops get your number so to speak, and you’re known as a thug/troublemaker locally, especially around small bases like his?
Eventually you’re going to get nabbed. Now according to Sapper who did a tour in Korea, his understanding is that local jails are not fun places. Now this’s purely anecdotal. During his in-brief, like mine in Germany, or anywhere for that matter outside of CONUS (CONtinental United States) the DotMil, ALL branches tell you the “do’s and do’s NOTS” Guess this kid didn’t listen or care. To continue. South Korean Jails are by US standards are hard time. You get put in a room, with a stool and sink and shitter. That’s it. You’re not allowed to talk, interact, do anything. Not sure what the punishment is for breaking that, but I do know that corporal punishment in general runs as a ‘cultural thing’ in SK.
Also for this fucking tard to have even landed in the local hoosegow means his Chain of Command probably wanted him in there. For all reports, this fucker is a punk kid who was going to get everything due to his thug ass. SO, after he beat up a local who pressed charges, unlike the normal “We’ll handle it from here” thing that the DotMil usually does, they were like “He’s all yours!”
A big reason that there are so many protests in and around DotMil bases internationally is that due to a lot of SOFA (Status Of Forces Agreements) rules, the US DotMil is supposed to handle punishment and when they step in, it pisses off the locals. Okinawa has this happen a lot and usually makes the news. Now, not sure as to fighting and busting up the locals, but in Germany? The Local Military Command handled the punishment of the perp. SK? Not so sure. It is, to me leastways very telling that his Chain of Command did NOT step in.
However, they did do one thing, which is on completion of sentence, he was transported (that day mind you) to the Airport. He was to be transferred to Fort Bliss for a continuation/completion of sentence, meaning from the reports I’ve read, he had two more months that he was going to do in the Stockade in Bliss, and then get sent to civvie street with a Dishonorable Discharge.
Even Army Secretary Cumstain Worthless…err Christine Wormuth stated: “…stressed that the priority remains to bring King back to the U.S. “regardless of the fact that there’s misconduct” while acknowledging that he will “absolutely” have faced “additional consequences” including potential jail time for the assault.” Now, for the Secretary of the Army to have mentioned the assault? Damn… he must have really done something exceptionally egregious to the South Korean local… dunno… just speculating, but I do know one thing
Whomever the dumb fucker was who dropped him off, at the Airport, and failed to make sure he was on the plane?
Career Dissipation Light Engaged.
I mean not only did this kid fuck up himself epically, but now? Damn son, talk about taking everyone with you. Lot of good people are going to be fried in oil over this, as it doesn’t get much higher in the Chain of Command than Secretary of the Army, and considering she’s a Full bore Card Carrying Marxist Social Justice Warrior, IF this fucking spoiled worthless piece of inoperative farm equipment does get back to our side of the pond, you can guarantee he’ll not only get a hero’s welcome, but get promoted.
Sounds harsh but I hope the Norks fucking give him the Warm-Beer treatment and send him back to us vegetablizied or already dead. As I said, lots of Good Peoples careers just took Ye Olde Giant Shit. And all because of a lack-of-impulse control “Gud Boi Who Dindu Nuffin!” had his Race Card declined.
Fuck that guy with a chainsaw. More Later Big Country
UPDATE So, seems the Korean Times gives a faaar more in-depth reason for why Pvt Kangznsheeeit was ‘detained’ by the South Koreans. The link is HERE but for brevity, I’ll put in the some info: (any notes from be will be in bold and in parenthesis)
“Legal sources here said Thursday that King, 23, received a 5 million-won ($3,955) fine from a court in Seoul on Feb. 8 on charges of inflicting damage on a police patrol vehicle. (because of course he did)
King, however, did not pay the fine (do they ever pay their fines? asking for a fren) and was eventually detained in a prison workshop for 48 days in line with a court ruling that he be held for one day for each unpaid 100,000 won, the sources said. (FA/FO the SK don’t play I’d say)
He was accused of repeatedly kicking the back door of a police patrol vehicle in Seoul’s Mapo district in the wee hours of Oct. 8 and inflicting damage that required 584,000-won worth of repairs. (there’s that impulse control issue again)
King was apprehended by police at that time for suspected violence at a nightclub. (all reports have said he beat up a local -AGAIN- NOT a first time incident) He reportedly did not cooperate with police officers demanding his personal information and kicked the door of the police car while shouting foul language against Koreans and the Korean military, according to police investigations. (Race card thrown and….)
(DENIED!) King was detained from May 24 to July 10 in a penitentiary in Cheonan, 85 kilometers south of Seoul, before being released and relocated to an American military base in South Korea for a weeklong stay. He was reportedly found to have fled Incheon International Airport on Monday afternoon while in the process of boarding a flight to Dallas. (Yonhap)”
SO Yeeeeah… not only did he get in a fight and beat up a local, when the Local Cops showed up, he did what every other worthless nigger int he United States does, which is performed the obligatory Chimpout at the cops, and tried to trash the car that the fuzz showed up in.
Bit of a game changer from the info our Information Organs, the Ministry of Lies and Propaganda have seen fit to overlook the extra-stupid monkeyshines. That and all the pics they’ve been showing are that of what look to be a very young innocent looking kid… Any bets his current photos got the “Trayvon Treatment”? That’s what I call when the media find a picture of the kid that makes him look all innocent, when in reality, his current look is just short of a niggered-up Post Malone or wannabe gangbanger… usually with Guns, Money Grills and Drugs.
Yep. because of the Soros Backed DAs who spring any and all who do anything to the cops, effectively hamstringing law enforcement, got me a hunch our young troop here thought that the same rules were in effect. Black Lives Matter and all that horseshit. That he could get in the cops faces, trash a cop car and that nothing was going to happen.
Reality however, is a stone cold motherfucker
Then he spent two months at hard labor in a South Korea Work Camp. After which, he was getting sent home, to go to the Stockade at Fort Bliss to do another two months. Then get thrown out on his ass with a Dishonorable Discharge. Now, RUMINT was he might have been able to get out with a General Discharge under Less-Than-Honorable, but now?
Fucker better be on his knees sucking Nork Dick hard ‘cos Now? A gen-yoo-wine Deserter? Oh yeah, no matter what Secretary of the Army Cumstain Worthless tries to do, this kid is finished.
And that’s even IF the Norks want to send him back.
He ain’t the first to do the same exact thing. A link to a pretty good write up about other US Army morons who crossed the “Z” is HERE The only thing of note to it though is this: Out of the 5, maybe 6 morons who did it, only ONE ever got out, and that was because he married a kidnapped Japanese chick who, when Kim wanted to improve relations with Japan, sent her home, and he got to go as her husband. And my understanding is he had to stay in Japan, lest he go to the States and have to face time for being a deserter in time of war (Nam).
Otherwise, there ain’t no coming back from Norksville that I can see. One thing that does tell me he might be sent back though is his blatantly obvious obnoxiousness and stupidity is readily apparent. Glorious Leader Kim Jong-Un may just decide to get rid of him, as there’s not much propaganda value in a semi-literate violent hood rat with questionable impulse control and violent tendencies. Got me a hunch Kim is going to discover what “nigger fatigue” is with this kid sooner, rather than later.
Hell, if it were me? Two to the Back of the head, dump him in the Yalu and tell the US “You owe me one.” for having rid the world of at least one more useless future welfare/prison rat. Jes’ Sayin’ More Later BCE
Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes! Many thanks who assisted in the contributions to keeping the lights on around here and apologies for the Backstreet Boys reference. You guys and gals are The Best!!! Now, the horrible boy band? Besides being a good lead-in title, No shit, one of my first GIANT stadium concerts was… with great shame mind you…. Paula Abdul, with the Backstreet Goober Brigade opening for her…
Hey I was what? 21/22? I was on date #3 with what became Wife Number One, the tickets were free, I had a huuuuge bag (I think a QP as memory serves me) of premium doobage and I didn’t have to drive? Thinking back, the show purely sucked but I did get laid, so that was the price to pay back then pre-tinder and whatnot… dinner, drinks, a concert/movie/show, more drinks, then the horizontal bop IF you didn’t totally show your ass. In fact that show blew rancid dead donkey dicks… it was around that time when Paula Abdul went from “perky cheerleader hot” to “bloatapotamus”… not a recommended sight to see, especially when she was all in a transparent -something- and writhing around on stage…
Which BTW, GN-BN, we had great seats riiiight up front where I could count the indentations of the cottage cheese-thighs and what was prolly a reeeeally rank fupa, as hard as she was sweating… like a Borax 8 Mule Team Sweat…
Gross me out…
Thank God it was good doobage as I previously stated. So, not doing poly-ticks today, nor doomporn. Lotta folks been pointing out the negativity man…
That’s right Baby… So, in going with that, I thought of a funny story I told Gretchen like early this AM, as for whatever reason I couldn’t sleep at all last night… was down at 0130 and up this AM at 0600.
Dunno why, maybe because Bob-the-Cat came in when he heard us mumbling. He likes to come in and let the slaves know whats gone wrong overnight and then demand his morning skritchums. Gretchen has KILLER long professionally done nails (she does them herself) that she keeps in just barely under “Freddie Kruger Sharpness” LOVE me some skritchens myself. Back during the Kung Floo when everything was closed, I sprung on a HUGE supply of the ‘stuff’ for her to do it herself, as she -is- a beautician… like school trained, former head stylist at the Biltmore Estates for like 15 years… there’s a reason she’s known professionally as “The Hair Diva”. Anyhoo…
Might have been Bob that triggered it but I got to thinking about another cat from waaaaay back when. Right after Gulf One in 1990/91, me and my Battle Buddy RIF’d and went into our Reserve time. Getting RIF’d (Reduced in force…) post Gulf they offered an ‘early out’ for like everyone, especially us trigger pullers, (of which they had an overabundance of at the time) left us with like 8? plus years of Reserve Commitment, but we were good with that.
We moved into a double-wide trailer in the foothills of the White Mountains in NH… a bit of a ways outside of Farmington. Middle of nowheresville back then. Still sorta is, but looking on Goolag Erf, the place has come a looong way with some what appear to be exceptionally expensive new McMansions. Because it was New Hamster, and it was a trailer, the rent was like $200 a month.
Did I mention it was a trailer? An uninsulated trailer? Winters were….interesting?shall we say? My Battle Buddy, we’ll call him “D”… D’s mom had originally rented it when she got her 4th? 5th? divorce… she was cool, but a bit…. neurotic. That’s the kindest way of putting it. “Bugshit Fucking Nuts” just is too harsh for her because she -was- like a second mother… as the Brits would say “stark staring mad donchaknow eh wot?” Had a ‘thing’ about cleaning. Like we’d go grocery shopping, we’d bring home the food, and she’d spray down and/or wash every. single. container. with antiseptic. Reeeeeally hardcore about dirt and germs… and she went through men pretty quickly b/c she was really good at hiding the cray-cray, (and she was hot too for an older lady which didn’t hurt, and no, she was like my mom so no you pervs, nuthin’ happened) so eventually the mask would come off, and for her, it was wash-rinse-repeat… Anyways… I’ll call her DMom for this.
She got a new squeeze and moved out, and offered up the place to us… the Landlord didn’t care as long as we didn’t blow up the place or burn it down, to the point he let us put in a firing range off the back porch (we were really out in the boonies like I said) and do pretty much whatever we wanted out there. It was waaaaaaaaaaay outside of ‘town’ and back then it was like a microdot ON a postage stamp if you know what I mean.
We also ‘inherited’ a cat… Which in this case, t’was NOT you’re ‘normal cat’. This was a Maine Coon Cat. Got a hunch the majority of you know of what I speak, but here’s a pic to give you an idea of what we were dealing with:
Now, this’s a example as back in those days, there were no digital cameras/phones. Unfortunately, I never did get a pic of that Big Bastard. In fact now as I recall, 1989 to about 1995 was the Luddite Lifestyle in the extreme compared to these days… Now, Our cat? He was sort of runty, only coming in at 12-13 pounds initially. More on that in a few. DMom named him “Puddy-Wuddy”.
Not exactly a burly name for a cat who had claws like fucking Wolverine man let me tell you. Part of the reason he got that sorta faggy name was, well… for a GIANT fucking Clawed Deathkat, he meowed like a little bitch. As in he had this teeny, tiny Mike Tyson lisping meow you could barely hear. Used to crack us the hell up when he’d be cussing out us slaves in that little kittenish voice of his…
Now Pud as we called him, he just sort of showed up randomly one day, and decided DMom was now “his Hoomon” and that was that. He had a collar, but no tag, and no one ever said anything about missing a Giant Fucking Catzilla, so, hey cool Giganticus Felineus-Rex man… faaaaar out man! (We were smoking a lot of weed back then, attempted to grow it even on the roof of the trailer under an “acquired” camo-net and poles. It was crap-weed but we had fun doing it)
Now what was funny was there was an overlap of D and DMom and myself living there. We were there when Pud showed up, and since DMom was feeding him, that was who he attached himself to. The pattern after she left was whoever fed him he tended to follow around. He was an indoor/outdoor cat, and preferred to use the latrine outside, which we liked as that meant no nasty cat box to deal with. He was really good about letting us know he had to go, and could get shall we say dangerously persistent, especially if you were asleep/passed out hammered (which back then was a daily occurrence. Party til you drop man!) The reason it was dangerous?
Those Wolverine claws?
He’d sink them into whatever appendage that was available. Now, he knew not to like maim us, just enough to let us know “Slave!!! I have to piss/shit NOW!!! Get the hell up and let. me. OUT!!!” We learned our place in the Grand Scheme of Pud’s World rather quickly let me tell you. So, right before DMom bailed, she took Pud to the vet. It was a Drill Weekend so me and D left, and DMom had told us A) She was taking Pud to the Vet, and B) She was moving in with her new Boyfriend.
OK, no issues here man, made it easier to party now that the adult has bailed.
We go out for the weekend, and got back home, dirty and all funned out from 3 days in the woods playing “Army.” Now normally, when no one was going to be home for a extended spell, we’d put Pud out. No worries with him being out there as in our immediate Area of Operations, there weren’t too many critters that’d want to tangle with a Catzilla. Well, this time, we get home, and maaaaan.
There’s an IRATE 14 pound Ball of Clawed Hate and Fury in the house. With a big patch of fur missing around his nether region.
I won’t go into the attack, but Pud definitively let the slaves know that they had been highly remiss in their duties. We got out of it with minimal bloodshed as both D and I were still in our BDUs with the sleeves down, and our pants were bloused over our Jungles. That being said we had to stich some rips and tears because as I said, Pud was pissed.
Not that I blame him. For whatever reason, the Vet had offered to neuter Pud for free as there was some push to cut down on ferals or some such shit at the time. Either way, Mom went along with it, and Pud got his balls chopped.
I’d have been pissed off too. He sure as fuck was, and let us know it.
Which leads us into the hilarious (leastways to me) part of the story. This was late Summer/early Fall when this happened. It’s a gorgeous time in the area we were living in. Temps juuuust right all the time… very little rain, and like no humidity. We had a new neighbor who’d moved in, a not completely unattractive female, a single mom whos name escapes me, but D took her on as a regular FWB. I was dating the X at the time, and she (the X) came by on the regular or I’d travel down to her, which showed how serious it was getting as one-way from my crib to her ‘rents was like a 120 mile trip.
At least the gas was cheap Aye? As I remember like maybe 90 cents to a $1.10 if it was “up” To think I used to bitch about that back then…
Our living area, like on the property, we had a few ‘things’ around the house. One was an old wood pile under a tarp from the previous residents of the casa. The trailer had a wood stove and I should emphasize the had to have a wood stove as maaan, ALL of our Artic Survival Training came into play in the deep winter. NO insulation. The central heat (HA!) was barely capable and when the wind started cranking? Hoo boy man. We’d be walking around in two sweatshirts, two pairs of sweat pants, two pair of sock… you catch my drift? (Bad pun, sorry). Long johns were the daily uniform. Now, because this wood pile was rotten AF and bug infested, we didn’t use it and instead, we’d bought a couple of cords of dry stuff from the local Lumberjack. You know you’re in a small rural town when you got a local Lumberjack… he cut us a deal as I hooked him up w/some good Herb I was getting down in Boston so after he delivered it, we stacked and prepped our own ‘clean’ woodpile.
Back to the early Fall. Old Pud had started gaining weight like a Chinese Mandarin Court Eunuch. Shot up about 4+? maybe? pounds. His disposition towards us really didn’t change, however, some of the days that he’d be out overnight? When he got back we’d find him on the front porch doing a cat version of ‘cleaning his weapon(s)’. Assiduously digging the chunks of unidentifiable bio-matter from the claws, and the mats of blood from his fur. One time the blood matting was bad enough to warrant a bath in the kitchen sink, and surprisingly, he didn’t even kick up a fuss. It was like he knew he needed help getting the blood out.
First time we saw him like this we initially thought he was hurt. The bath was more like triage for us. But nope, couple of not-too-serious scratches, maybe a bite or two from the ear or tail, but Pud generally came back with his sheild, rather than on it. Our prime concern was he’d get road-pizza’d if he wasn’t careful. That winter he still kept rolling out, be gone a couple days once and a while, and come back if the weather got really cold. One time after a fresh snowfall, we saw Pud’s prints (that or a fucking mountain lions, could have been either) in the snow and we tracked him a bit, only to realize that he had set up under the tarp and old woodpile. Made us happy that he’d figured a place to crash if he needed to.
Now. Springtime showed up. Gorgeous time there too. I think that change of seasons is THE thing I miss about New England. Pretty much the only thing.
D and I were enjoying just being bums. Life was good, the cat was cool, we had a good thing going and we knew it. Not for nothing, a really good time was had by all. Now, as it was Spring, we had the obligations of Spring cleaning. The Landlord was a bit up pissed off about a lot of the deadfall branches and shit that always comes with heavy snow. Seems the local dude who cleaned up that sort of shit wanted a LOT more shekels than the year before. We sat down with him over some beers and weed, and came to a deal that we’d do the work, and he’d knock a month or two off the rent. Part of the deal was we had to clean the WHOLE A.O. which also incorporated his other two trailers, one that had D’s friend-with-bennies and this nasty old biddy at the front of the street.
We lived on a dead-end road that was supposed to have like a mini-trailer park on it, leastways back in the early 70s whoever set the place up had that idea. There were like 9 slabs for the trailers and the piping had been laid. Problem was, only three trailers ever got set up, mainly because whatever fool thought putting in what was essentially an uninsulated aluminum box on a mountaintop in New Hamster had no fucking clue what the winters were like there.
SO because of this, as a trailer park, it was a bust. Ours was the last one on the left and our road was a dirt track essentially. I -think- it was supposed to get paved at some point, but never did. Good Ole FWB was our across the street neighbor. The last trailer we think was supposed to be the Landlord’s place, but the guy who owned it (the trailers and property) when we were there never lived in it, and he never knew what the original plan was. So instead of him, we had Ye Olde Fishwife living there… Man, she was a nasty old bitch. ALWAYS calling the sheriff on us. Had a nasty yappy Bichon dog that was just gross… always dirty and bitey. So bad because the mailbox was up by her house, we had to take the car to avoid either getting cussed out, or having this rancid little nastymutt attack us. Mind you, we were far enough back that even when we were ‘throwing down’ you couldn’t hear the music. That was her main thing she’d call the fuzz on us for… not the gunfire, loose whammenz, or weed… nope… that ‘Debbil Moosic Rock and/or Roll!’
The Sherriff for the area was cool. His deputies too. Knew we were vets, and that we weren’t doing anything highly illegal… Left us alone for the most part. Deal was if he could hear the music from her place when he got out of the car, he’d let us know. 90% of the time, it was bullshit thought. I think the onlytime we really had it cranked was when I got some new Tower Speakers and we were playing Manowar “Black Wind Fire and Steel” at skull-bursting levels.
Our bad man, sorry about that… want a beer?
Now, back to the story. We started cleaning up, and we had all the time we wanted to do it in really. To be honest, busting our balls, we could have probably knocked it out completely in a week. We actually had until June 1st to get it done. We started about Mid-April when it was warming up and the rains weren’t too bad. We’d gather all the deadfall, and each weekend, we’d bonfire the fuck out of it. Good Times.
Now, towards the end of May, we got to the back side of the crib. The cleanup had gone smoothly up til then. The back side? That’s where that nasty rotten woodpile was. In all seriousness, we didn’t want to hit that we weren’t sure how we were going to deal with it, as we fully expected that this shit wouldn’t burn as it was all nasty and rotten. Just how nasty, however, we had no idea.
We finally got to it, and by way of starting, we ripped that big ole nasty tore up tarp off. You know, those BIG blue reinforced ones? Not the shitty Chineseum ones, but a pretty substantial one… anyways, we ripped it back only to get literally in the face with the stench of death/murder most foul
Or should I say ‘fowl?’ Seems that post ball removal, Pud had evidently become what we figured to be a sexually frustrated mass murderer. Possibly THE most prolific serial killer cat EVER.
There were literal -stacks- of corpses. Squirrels, Rabbits, Chipmunks, oh damn there were a lot of fucking Chipmunks. Birds of all ‘flavors’… There were Raccoons, even a Fox, and God help us, 3 (we think) utterly putrescent Skunks. Could have been more as they’d all gotten ‘melty’ and ‘soupy’ into a fucking pile of rotten goo… Yeah we puked. Both of us.
Seems Pud? When he lost his nads, he also lost his compunction against mass murder.
While we were doing this, Pud showed up. He climbed on the pile, and just -looked- at us. Like all proud… like “Look guys! How’s this for a kill streak?” Y’all who have cats know exactly ‘that look’ Jeez. We were living with a fucking Feline Version of Jeffery Dahmer.
Worst part was when we started to kind of push everything into a pile… Ooey Gooey pure Horrorshow More Vomiting Ensues. Now there’s also a side note. Back a few months previously, about 3 or 4 weeks after Pud got chopped, the Deputy showed up asking if we’d seen or knew anything about nastymutt going missing? (you know where this’s going)
Now AT THE TIME we told him in all honesty we had no clue. He was aware of the friction with the Old Bitch, as she blamed us for everything… so nothing more came of it. Until we got to the bottom of the corpse-pile. Fucking a dead dog… It had to be nastymutt almost fully desiccated by that time and had been DOA for quite a spell… We -think- the annoying fucker was one of Pud’s first kills. After that, Everything else was a freebie. (Politicians please take note)
We learned for sure that it was for sure nastymutt when we found the collar still on the corpse. That and the little bastard was MIA, so THIS DOA matched. Case closed. Cue “Law and Order Theme”
From what we could see, Pud had disemboweled the thing, and dragged it’s dead ass back to what became known as “The Trophy Room”. Reason we called it that was because, no shit it looked organized.
Birds with Birds Squirrels with Squirrels And so on and so forth.
The question then came up (for about a millisecond) if we should let the Old Harpy know what happened to her fucking asshole dog. It took D all of a second to say “You think she’d tell us if the roles were reversed with Pud?” I told him, “Well yeah she would, if only to make us feel shitty about it… fuck her… and even if we do tell her, she’ll raise a stink worse than these dead fucking skunks with the fuzz and try to get the Pudster in the shit.”
So that issue being decided, we worked for about another 30 minutes until we realized just how nasty this shit was going to be. I mean it was already nightmare fuel… Ain’t no way in Hell were we going to bag this shit up like the other garbage. So we went in another direction. Dug and scraped a firebreak between the pile (both wood and corpses) and the Trailer and held us a big ole Viking Funeral, sans boat.
That shit stunk too. Burning up old rotten corpses is a nasty-fucking-biddness as we came to learn. The whole time, Pud just sat there… Watching us. Almost like a Roman Emperor watching the slaves clean up the Arena Floor after a particularly brutal Gladiatorial show. Just like a cat Aye? Quite the look of satisfaction as I recall.
Ole Pud, well he stuck around with us for another 3 or so years as D and I went our separate ways when we went on active duty. We dropped Pud off with DMom, and my understanding he lived a few more years after that. Figure he was about 10 when he cashed in. To this day, he remains as I call him “Themost prolific serial killer cat ever.” Not a bad epitaph for a cat I think.
So, I’ll do some more as we go. Hope you enjoyed More Later Big Country
Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes! On my fon right now, rather the wireless hotspot on my fon. Hard to poast when Spectrum shut off my house-internet. Seems that the car payment ($560 a month) got ‘double punched’ and the bank hasn’t unscrewed it… the internet bill is one I always forget, so I’m regularly a month behind… apparently now two months because when I did the bill, there wasn’t enough to cover it in ye olde Bank (Thanks PNC!)
PNC Bank said that they’ll “look into it,” which means at least Monday/Tuesday as this’s happened before… My own fault they tell me, that I had ‘double clicked’ the ‘submit payment’ button, but I seriously doubt it. Last time this happened they didn’t return my bux for like 8-10 business days. And then then next month they tried to say I had missed a payment.
Considering the shenanigans that all the banks seem to be playing, I’d be curious how much they make on, oh say if 10,000 people had this exact thing happen to them, how much do they make in holding MY cash and everyone else for that timeframe? THEN, imagine if they’re doing it to all the people, but on a rolling basis where it’s hard to prove?
Call me kooky, but these days? Anything and Everything is possible ESPECIALLY when Big Biddness/Banks and whatnot are involved. In fact I’ve come to expect nothing but evil from all involved parties.
So, this purely sucks… “Unlimited Data” from Verizon gets throttled pretty damned fast. And this means I’m burning bytes so to speak. I use the Internet for Glorious Peoples Tractor Factory, so hence, lite poasting.
Gretchen is pissed ‘cos she only watches streaming on the Revo… Although I -might- be able to get our neighbor Church Lady to let Gretch piggyback on her Wi-Fi as her router is right next door, as in the Master BR where Gretchen watches TV from is about 30 feet from Church Lady’s BR where her router is… I know this as I helped move it for her… like G, she has to sit in bed due to a blown back to watch el boobus toobus.
And yeah, I added a donate button (I Think) Let me know as this editor sucks and I barely know WTF I’m doing… Appreciate y’all!
Greetings Me Droogs N Drooettes! Been a good day, what with the spine only tweaking a bit… I can now at least sit for about 15-20 minutes, get up, stretch, switch chairs and drive on.
Got two office chairs, one being a Herman Miller Aeron that I snatched waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in the day from a “Bricks To Click” Internet Company I worked for… had a Doc’s note, so they bought be a “C” Sized Herman Miller…
Only thing I added to it was the headrest, and replaced pieces parts as they wear out. The other is a big pleather chair that works… I sweat a lot in it, but it’s big and comfy.
Anyways Someone on Gab Tagged me thusly:
What I found extremely interesting is that A) They worked and B) They worked. Now those of you who’ve been around here a while know I used to print a 75% scaled battery holder of a Claymore, as well as some ‘other’ fake land mines.
The Claymores don’t need intro… the other 8 toys (the tan circular ones w/fins) are either paperclip holders or whatever holders… It’s a model of the VS-50 Italian Landmine…the fuse/footpad is held up by stuffing the interior with toilet paper LOL. BUT That vidya? OMG. Thank Gawd I don’t/can’t/won’t have C-4 like they do… then again, MINE (bad pun) can’t be made to go ‘nuts’ so to speak. They DO however make cool desktoppers in a biddness environment IMO. And yes, those who ask, my drawer pulls ARE Crystal Skulls… that lil cabinet holds my primers and reloading dies… Gretchen got it for like $10 on Facebook Marketplace, and it didn’t have any drawer hardware, so I got these on the Zon. https://amzn.to/44HO7U8
Kinda Cool IMO
Now, “other things” Seems that it’s confirmed that the 450 IRR Kids are all being called up from the CBRN Field. Namely the Chemical Biological Radiological Nuclear MOSes. The past 20 years, there was a significant degradation in those particular jobs, so they got to ‘dip deep into the well’ to find folks who can sing and dance the tune. I got confirmation from my old “Bugs and Gas” OIC from the Cav whom I’m still frens with. They sent him a letter (Retired Lt Col. at 100% disability) as someone failed to notice he’s for-real fucked up from the neck up from his service.
When he was at West Point, he was in one of the very last classes of CBRN School for Orificers who ackchully did ‘real deal’ “stuff” on each other “…just to know what the real deal was like…”
In his case? It was a very light physical ‘dose’ of Blister… he thinks it was Mustard, BUT they never told him… they literally put a couple of drops on his skin, and he and his team had to decon him. Problem was, the long term effects??? Seems like nerve degradation, bone issues… poor fucker is 12 years younger than me, looks 30 older, and is frail AF. He –should be– at 1000% IMO… but, I did check in, and someone ‘forgot’ he’s a crippled soup-sammich, and tried to get him to come on board for the fun.
So, confirmation there. Then… Well we got this:
So now they’re telling us 80,000 troops are going to be “forward deployed” until further notice????
ORLY? On who’s authority? Oh yeah… I forgot Dick-Tator-For-Life (leastways til Putin ‘Nuts Up’ and Nukes D.C.) the Pretender to the Glorious and Harmonious P&PBUH (Plus 10%) Orifice of The (p)Resident, The Dementor-in-Chief, Emperor Poopypants the First, Chief Executive of the Kidsmeller Pursuivant, Good Ole Slo Xi-Den makes these calls. (BTW: All the froo-froo about Hunter’s illegitamate kid being ‘denied’ by the fam? At this point I’d say that’s a good thing much like Gran#1 completely has disavowed her ‘rents sad as it might be… got as hunch that the name “Biden” is going to be as popular as “Hitler” in the next few in certain quarters so to speak…) Jes’ Sayin’
Quick Question: Whatever happened to the DEMONcRats being the “AntiWar Party”?
Yeah, the current DotMil is fucked And, judging from WHO was called up, and how many in the future are going to be called up, as they say in Ebonics: “Weez beez fukked!” Makes me really glad I found that Geiger Counter at that shit-shop Aye?
Whatever you do, in keeping with the current rabid-split tail in charge… whatthefuck is’r name? Christine E. Whoremouth… that’s it… she openly stated something to the effect that she doesn’t want the children of soldiers and grandchildren of soldiers to serve… to prevent a “Warrior Class” to come up… Make sure you DO NOT LET YOUR KIDS GROW UP TO BE SOLDIERS FOR LEVIATHAN.
Sounds like a plan to me. Go draft the Hasidics in NYFC then ya cunt. Anyone who either has a kid, and that kid is thinking about serving? Call me… I’ll let ’em get thru basic and AIT, then I’ll break them up bad enough that they get the retirement and out BEFORE They can deploy… couple of drinks… a couple of pills… beat the knees senseless, OR brief them properly to pass a Med Board… but not so bad as to be a game changer… Juuust enough to get that magic 20-50% Permanent Disability, become non-deployable and fuck the system over even further. Jes’ Sayin’
Then, lastly, INDIRECT FIRE:
File under “extremely interesting” My recommendation is WTWT. Indirect fire is a headfuck… why not know how to build/implement it if needed?
Considering I fuck around with Cardboard Mortars and Firework shells, this’s the same thing, ‘cept on steroids. YMMV Don’t run with scissors. More Later Big Country
