Prolonged Absence

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

A Laid-Back Pool Day and the Usual Snivvling

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.
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.

So, let me wrap this for now. I got more coming.
More Later
Big Country

Work and an Update on Adriana

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.

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.

So, on short, I’ll leave it at that. Been a full day.
More Later
Big Country

Race Card DECLINED Updated!!! (At The Bottom)

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.

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.

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

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

Back Street’s Back All Right!!!

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…

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 only time 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’
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 “The most 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

Lite Poasting For Now

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!

So, moar later-ish
Big Country

3D Printed Claymores, The IRR and Improvised Mortars

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.

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.
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.

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.
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.
Don’t run with scissors.
More Later
Big Country

Der Schwerpunkt und Unser Arsch ist Gras… Wir sind SOOOOOOOOO tot…

Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes!
First, a Word from the Geriatric Piece of Shit currently inhabiting the White House: I.E. Our 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 who, by his Most Excellent and Not-Mashed-Fucking-Taters-For-Brains has decided to activate the Army Reserve with numbers up to 3000 troops (a Brigade worth) and 450 IRR Troops, which are, for the most part Guys who’ve fully completed their requirements in the DotMil but are still ‘on the hook’ for whatever reason it is…

The link is HERE
LOTS of ‘collective pants shitting’ going on

Righteously so, as the last time they brought in the IRR, was the 2002/03 build up to Iraq. IRR for the most part are guys who, having had some ‘special skillz’ got done with their service… a case in point (a ‘for example’) 4 Years on Active Duty, 2 years Reserve. Finish the Reserves, and have either 2 or 4 years of ‘IRR’ or ‘Inactive Ready Reserve’ i.e. Army only in extreme shortages of your job OR war.

IRR kids, for the most part, shitcan their uniforms, their PT, get fat and happy and call it a day. -I- never had to do IRR as I got medically retired (Thank the God(s). FULLY retired kids don’t get ‘call backs’ either, tho, b/c when I first got out with ONLY 20%, they DID come shopping around to see IF I was willing to come back on… told ’em I wanted at least Warrant 2, be assigned to a SF Support Team, no PT, and no bullshit. They didn’t call back LOL.

So, as far as the “Reserves” getting called up… lots of pundits saying how only 3k of folks ain’t a lot. Well… let’s “Break it Down like Barney”.

First Off, the Reserves for the past 15 or even MOAR years have been, outside of some specialized units (of which I’ll get to in a moment) have been primarily support elements. Ass and Trash, Mail, Graves Registration, MPs, Medical units, Gas pumpers, Civil Affairs, Repair elements (like I belonged to as a contractor in the Gunsmithing days)… you get the drift…

So, 3k of them? Yeah, good support elements for the usual rotational units of Active Duty, as these days, the size of an Infantry element would be equal to my old Brigade, the 3rd of the 101st, which was 1st, 2nd (mine) and 3rd Battalion of the 101st ABN.

Now, I’m ‘cuttin’ and pasting but hell, I’m not re-typing all the realizations and shit I put up on Gab, soooo….

The 3rd BDE of the 187th when -I- was in it (The Rakkasans) we were a fully light-infantry BDE with about (Including 3 Batts and the HHC element, Company Sized) call it, fully staffed (never were) at about 3k worth of troops. ALL ‘triggermen’ (splits need not apply) NO service and support pukes. Ass and Trash were handled by the 801st MSB (Main Support Batt, lots of broads) and/or the 426th FSB (Forward Support Batt, moar broads, but the 801st were cuter and moar fun, Jes’ Sayin’)… Aviation/Arty/and Engineers were integral, but separate as well.

The restructuring of units got rid of the MSBs and FSBs and made/turned them into the 101st SSB (Special Support Battalion(s) or the STB (Special Troops Brigade) elements… these daze (intentional spelling) I’ve lost track, but the Reserves are primarily Support Elements (hence why I got back on active duty in 92 as the Reserves -back then- went from having Infantry to ONLY support geeks, but that DOES include MPs which ARE for some reason considered Combat Troops (they ain’t no matter what they say… no Blue Cord? Suck My Infantry Balls and Taint) Notional Guard are ‘combat troops’ in name only really…

Now that the wars are over, the majority of NG units are back to the trash they were BEFORE Iraq and Affy ‘went live’ so, in this case, my guess? Ass and Trash Mission to support bringing in MOAR trigger-pullers… My guess? A Battalion or Two of Heavy Armor (M1A2s in 1st Armored Division) as this Krainian ‘thang’ is almost a pure Armor fight… the fucked up thing is that we haven’t heard shit about any A-10s being moved

THATS the TRUE ‘tripwire’. Even tho the zoomies FINALLY got the A-10 kil’t off, they’ll still be in use, in the ANG/Reserves until 2029, but they’re RUSHING to get rid of them, even tho the Flying Turducken ain’t anywhere CLOSE to being a capable substitute. You hear/see/RUMINT the A-10s moving and sure AF war is coming ‘cos besides CAS (Close Air Support) Anti-Armor War is what the A-10 was literally designed for.

Now, the aforementioned A-10?
Mister BRRRRTMeister?

An A-10C Thunderbolt II from the 75th Fighter Squadron honing its skills in the skies over the training ranges at Ft. Irwin, Calif.

Yep… well….
Seem that they have 2 Full Squadrons of A-10s
Attached to the Army Reserve
Not for nuthin’ BUT
(Again from Gab)

IF you hear of ANY Air-Notional Guard Units at Moody AB in Georgia or any Army Reserve (Air) Units of A-10s getting activated, THAT is the ‘tripwire’ IMHEO (In My Highly Edjamahcated Opinion) then it’s now ‘off to the races’ in the Kraine. The F-35 Flying Turducken, despite the claims, is utterly incapable of CAS (Close Air Support) never mind ackchully –doing– REAL anti-armor shit like the A-10 was like, oh, I dunno…. specifically designed to do during the Cold War!?!

LITERALLY! They took the biggest gun they could, a fucking 25mm fully automatic Gatling cannon, looked at the geeks, and said, “Build an airplane around it!”

Which to everyone’s surprise and the Air Force’s Abject Horror
They Did.
Then they made it BIGGER (30mm)
Fucker was bigger than a Volkswagen Bug at the time FFS
The Chair Farce has been -trying- to kill it off ever since it was ‘born’…

Sorry for the hair-pulling and screaming, but FFS, the A-10 ammunition cannister holds 1,350 rounds of 30mm tank-smashing goodness. I think like 10+/-3 second ‘squirts of BRRRT!’

The Flying Fuckstain/TURDucken? Try 182 rounds. In TOTAL. It’s rate of fire? 3300 rounds per minute. LITERALLY, provided it doesn’t malfunction, fall from the sky, or come apart, 182 rounds that’s like a what? a 3.18 second burst? ONLY!?! While flying at what speed??? (slowest it can go is 100knots, but it’s not armored for shit which means it’s easy meat…)
As the Critical Drinker would say
SO Long Story Short:
You hear about A-10 Movements, it means it’s on like Donkey Kong. There’s ONLY 281 +/- A-10s left, and literally nothing in our inventory that can do what it does. So WHEN they start moving, prep for fecal oscillation storm inbound.

Now, two Squadrons…
That’s, with the necessary support troops who know how to deal with the A-10? Try 500 on the top end, per squadron.
1000 Reserve Troops, Right There…

Rut R’oh Raggy

Not cool man.
We are sooooo fucking dead…
“I’ll take ‘Shit that keeps me up at night’ Alex for $200”
Add on that we’re already almost perma-transferred 12 plus A-10s to Eurotrashland during that Flight Exercise “Operation Pointless Waste 2” a few weeks ago?

Doesn’t look good for the home team at all.

Normally I don’t get that pessimistic, but the current home sit-rep is completely and utterly fucked Like beyond the ability of CONgress or the Steaming Heaping Pile of Toxic Residue-in-Theoretical-Human-Form(s) called the “Senate” to do a fucking thing to ‘right the ship of state’…
Our Judiciary is fucked
Our Law Enforcement is fucked
Our Freedum of Speech is fucked
Our Elections have been, and are looking even worse than fucked
The Executive Branch is theoretically led by a Pedophilic Daughter Rapist and his coterie of self-promoting narcissistic scumlords, fuckstains and people I generally, if they were writhing around on fire in front of me, SCRAEMING for help, I’d actively try to find MOAR gasoline. And if anyone tried to stop them from burning? Let me tell you, they’d have to get thru me first.
“I love the smell of long-pig-politicians and their families and co-conspiritors burning in the morning!… Smells like victory.”

So, no… I think we’re fucked b/c of ALL I listed.
“They” positively need a war.
SouthernPrepper did a vidya this AM showing that the national debt (which is now fake and ghey as a motherfucker IMO… ain’t no way to ever pay that much mo-nayz back ever) is rising at like 60 BILLION an hour… just in interest.

FDR Took us in to WW2 ‘cos he was a dumbfuck socialist “Emperor for Life” who didn’t know how to ‘fix’ things… and he was a certifiable fucking genius compared to the sub-African level 60 and lower fucktards IQ of the shitheads, malcontents and pure fucking (((evil faggots))) who infest the body politic now…
Add on that allll these fucking ‘cheerleaders’ who seem to think that “The US Tanks (Abrams) with US Troops manning them) will do what the Krainians couldn’t/wouldn’t?”
Let me tell you:

Outside of the Battle of 73 Eastings (Tank on Tank) the Abrams has never gone against a Peer to Peer Tank Fight… in fact, TBH, and as I sat in the desert waaaaaaaay back then, I knew that it was not our ‘superior equipment/training’ (outside of night vision and thermals, Gen2 at the time) as much as it was the complete inferiority of the Republican Guard as well as the rest of the Iraqi Conscript DotMil

THEY had NO -real- overhead cover meaning:
THEY had NO helo support/air support
THEY didn’t know what the fuck what they were doing, to include:
Their commanders, for the most part were all Nepo-Babies (wired into the Ba’athist Party, and NOT for any sort of ‘Tactical/Strategic Intelligence’, never mind the ability to shoot, move and communicate in a 3/4d Environment… In fact they were shit. ALL of them. Completely worthless, and hence, our tanks were able to rack up a LARGE number of ‘kills’
THEY had ZERO concept of ‘fire and maneuver’… in fact even OUR Guys sat still and just blasted the ever-loving fuck out of the Iraqis… didn’t help visability purely sucked, but still…

Personally, My thoughts on the Rus? After the past year plus of REAL tank on tank fighting?

In Armor Warfare, you got the quick/good and the dead.

Any of Ivan’s tread-heads still running around are the better/best there… as in “only the stronk survive” They have Familiarity with the battlespace, the conditions… the reality of head-to-head slugfests, terrain, locations etc… like the better than us as in “Who’s your Daddy?” betters.

OUR guys?
Even when I –was– a tanker (not my proudest moment(s), I sure AF don’t remember any real mine clearance… Esp. not that vicious FASCAM shit Ivan seems so in love with…

We go? Lots of body bags are going to be needed, and as someone earlier mentioned on Gab, we’re going to need a LOT of Graves Registration folks… Never mind a slug fest at 500 meters with NO air support… Air Support IMO is going to be ‘spotty’ at best as even OUR Air Farce hasn’t had a peer-to-peer challenge since the 60’s, and even then, the North Vietnamese and SOME of the Russians flying like the ‘Flying Tigers'(contract gigs for experience points) shot a LOT of our guys down, which is actually why ‘the Top Gun’ school got set up…. and the Rus these days purely own the skies over the Kraine.

Got a hunch the F-35s, and the M1s are going to get fuuuuuuucked up, as I’ve poasted pics before of what insurgents w/IEDs can do, never mind direct-fire golden bee-bees…

The pic there is an M1A2 that the Haj got with a IED back in 05… it was in the graveyard at Arifjan where I worked… that and a metric fuckton of ‘other’ tracks, incl. the Brad? ALL burn really easy if someone is determined.
Jes’ Sayin’

If anything Ivan now knows HOW WE FIGHT as we trained the fucking tard-Krainians in OUR BATTLE TACTICS for use AGAINST THE RUSSIANS. And apparently, ‘the Book’ we used was dated from the “Time of Stalin” ‘cos man, they sure as fuck have adapted, improvised and kicked the fucking toofuses in of the Krainians stupid enough to utilize OUR book on the implementation of war against the Russians… And we keep crossing lines without impact… Note to our Leadershit:
Wir sind soooooooooo tot
(Look it up)

Prepare for War
I sure AF am
More Later (Hopefully)
Big Country

Fingers, Airplanes and “The Job(s) ‘Muricans Won’t Do” AGAIN!!!

Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes!
I gotta say… that’s a definitive message right here:

Fwench Finger Food?
Dunno man… even in ‘other areas’ outside of the shit that’s been going on over in Cheese Eating Surrender Monkeyland, this’s a new one. I mean not for nothing, the fact that it was carved off a ‘living human’ as opposed to a dead ‘un in itself is a weird way of stating it, add on that culturally? Now, I’m not that up-to-date but the Haj only send body parts as part of a kidnapping/ransom, and usually that’s the Lebanese, not the current Morrockin’-the-Casaba Kids running berserk-o-rama all over Gay Paree.

True story: The Lebanese Kids in Lebanon kidnapped some Soviet (back when it was still the USSR) functionary, sent a finger or ear? Can’t remember… they sent a piece of the guy for either cash or weapons. The KGB responded by finding the Headman’s Dad, and sending Dad back in multiple boxes with a note saying any more damage to their guy, and the rest of Doodz fam would be showing up in a similar fashion.

Needless to say, a Soviet could probably run around pissing on Korans alllll day long after that ‘cos it was “Hard Message Received, WILCO.” No One fucked with the Russians back then.

Anyways, the article then goes on to say they found out who was a digit-shy and gave him medical treatment, and had found out who the finger-collector was as well, but curiously, didn’t mention any arrests? Maybe an out of control Fwench Chef went batshit during the riots, came up with a new “Long Pig Finger Food” (literally!) and sent a ‘sample’ to Micro to see if he dug it?
Yeah, it’s been one of them weeks…
Fucking weirdness all around.
Now, the back is doing better. Should have been MUCHO clear that I don’t mix the pain meds with the hootch. Fuuuuuck… yeah, no fear of death, but NOT in a rush to meet the Reaper yet. Fact is, I burned the script early BECAUSE of the issue, and booze was my emergency go-to-hell pain reliever as I DON’T do the acetaminophen either… too much liver damage in general… nothing crazy, but still I boozed waaaaay too hard in Ye Olde Army Daze. Gotta be careful. Kidneys? Not worried, Irish Inbreeding, so I got 4. No shit. Google it. Not very common but yeah, a 4bbl carb which is why I process beer like a mo’fo.

To continue with weird:
Matt Bracken occasionally comments here and on Gab on the reg. He poasted an interesting tidbit about Good Ole Charlie Wray, the Head Demon in Charge of the Fucked Bureau of Instigation/Incompetence/Inability/Ineptitude/Incontinence/
Impotence/Inexperience/Incapability/Ineffectual, and Inadequacy…
Seems Good Ole Charlie Wray don’t like driving to work:

My, must be nice Aye?
Me being me, I did a ‘dig’ on his lil toy…
Started by goolag-erfing Manassas Regional where he likes to fly out of:

Lil bit bigger than Tampa Regional where the ‘Richie Riches’ fly out of on occasion, and supposedly where some of the 9-11 Hijackers trained at. Don’t know… so many years, so many coverups… anyways… zeroing in on the ‘parking lots’ I was able to ‘pin down’ where the Gulfstream is… it’s in the Sat Shot, but NOT visible on ground views… almost like they made sure that the plane was either stashed or ‘away’ when the Goolagmobile came ’round:
The Close Up of the Sat Shot of the Plane:

The corner that I went ‘in’ on is that intersection/merger between Wakeman and Observation… about on the red dot I penned in…as you can see, when the Goolagmobile went thru, the plane was out of sight:

Now, despite a small hillcock there, it’s plain (heh) to see there ain’t no Jet right there at the moment. Doesn’t mean it’s not -normally- there.

Not that I expect after these revalations that the DotGov is going to leave it there anymore mind you… lil closet secrets-that-aren’t-secrets generally get switched up when they get brought to light, like a Bureaucrat abusing his orifice by using as DotGov resource as his private plaything… over 100 flights according to Matt… Per JetSupport dot Com, the coast of a C37/Gulfstream 550 that good ole Charlie Wray is playing with?
Try $8,625 per hour.
And the flight time is an hour each way.
$17,250 PER DAY of our tax dollars spent by this criminal with a badge. I sure as fuck hopes –someone- makes him pay it back.

<wipes tears from eyes>
Yeah like THAT’LL ever happen

If they did, he’s theoretically be in the hole for one point seven mil. Guess he’d have to ‘sell out’ that much quicker to get the filthy consulting lucre or book deals that these fuckwads get after they get fires/caught/forced to resign.
And the way I’m sure it’s that particular plane?

I pulled an overhead sillouette of a C550
I’d say ‘ding-ding-ding’ as NONE of the ‘other’ planes on the sat pic are either big enough or have the correct profile. Coupl are Lears, one Bombardier Brit plane and hell, a C-130 for that matter.|
So I give it a week before they realize they’ll have to move this thing. Too many whackjobs in their mind… what gets me is that they’re all sooo security conscious about -someone- coming after them…
Hey guys, you ever thing that maybe just maybe you brought this shit on yourselves by being douchecanoe Elitist Assholes persecuting and robbing anyone and everyone you can by dint of Abuse of Authority and Power?

Naaaaaaah… couldn’t be that now could it?
Perish the thought.

So, lastly, guess I called it right-right

Link HERE to the Shytteshow
Just as prophesized they’re going to start in D.C. which outside of the ‘Northwestern’ part of the citizenry live AKA the functionaries and wealth(ier) folks are at… the rest of the city, outside of Downtown and Georgetown (which is in the NW side)… well, having experienced it myself, having taken a wrong turn off of 295 once, and mind you it was once at 0200? Fucking the area by the Navy Yard was a full on Demilitarized Zone man… only reason I didn’t get fucked up was I was ETS’ing and driving my moving van. I had my AR AND my pistola (highly illegal) but the cop who stopped me to direct me out didn’t even look sideways at my shit locked n loaded on the seat next to me.

And that was in 1999.
Can’t even imagine it now.
As I said and called it again, they’re ramping up… get the illegals on a path to citizenry by locking up allllll the gun owners and man, it’s one like Donkey Kong. Thankfully I have a fren with acreage and a John Deer with allll the ‘right’ equipment for farming and hole digging <ahem ahem>
So More Later
Big Country

Down But Not Out AKA Aging SUCKS! And The Krainfeld Kake.

Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes!

The Sausage Princess barked, I twisted (yesterday afternoon) and grabbed my .357 to answer the door… when I twisted, WTF!!!! Lower back… -something- new popped. I’ve had the spine crushed (97), cut (2002,-04,-07,-09) and crashed (chopper, Blackhawk, 2006) but this one?


New levels of “OMG!!! I’ll talk, I’ll talk!”


By far, I’m not a pussy by any means. I’m the guy (due to nerve damage) that cuts himself, and has to be told to (per Sapper usually) “…Dude… stop bleeding all over the floor man…” Makes it easier pain wise to have sooooo many nerve endings shorted out… but R/N?

Fuuuuuuck…. this’s a new level. Even with my ‘normal’ VA Scripted Oxycontin (yeah… I get the good stuff) this pain is overriding even 30-50 mg of the ‘pure quill’ so to speak. I don’t dare go higher… even tho they have me have naxolone on hand, I’m not risking an O.D….
If it keeps up I’m going to the VA… this ain’t the norm by far. Believe you me, I’ve tweaked, pinched, severed, spun, folded and/or mutilated my nerve endings, but maaaaaaaaaan.

Dis shit is for the birds .
It’s not even ‘full sciatica’ as I have that on the reg so to speak. It’s just my ass cheeks feel like someone stuck a ka-niff into each cheek, and sitting hurts, standing hurts… fuck it… Guess it’s time for “Plan W”

The only booze I can drink w/out ‘gettin’ mean’ so to speak.
It’s working that I can tell… we shall see.

That and Glorious People’s Tractor Factory, I didn’t get shit done today… my PC ‘bricked’ this AM due to my own stoopid… thankfully IT Commissar had a card up his sleeve, and I was able to finally unbrick said PC. Not that it fucking helped… made the day weak production wise, so I’ll have to make up for it over the next few days…

But the best news all week and this month was that Krainfeld the Kokaine Klownshow and his Koterie of Klowns were told:

Which, IMO is a fucking win.

Little fag wants us to go balls deep into World War Fucking Three? Fuck that guy. He’s fucked enough that if he ever showed up here in Florida? I’d be hard pressed NOT to snipe his ass. I’m pretty sure the World would thank me as he’s such an overbearing miniscule fucking Jew-Putz.

No one wants to dance with the fag….

Fuck him.
I welcome any member of the SBU to show up here to try anything. Just understand that I’ll mount your heads on pikes on the front yard, regardless of anything the county mounties have to say. Fuck the Ukraine to hell and back… y’all suck, your war sucks, and so does anyone who supports your sorry brought it on yourself stupid asses.

‘Cos, you know we’re going bankrupt b/c of them right?
Best be ready
Maybe it’s the Tullamore, Maybe it’s Reality.
I know we’re fucked long term… it’s just how well you’re ready for the ‘crash’ when… mind you WHEN it happens… not “If”
Dunno about you, but I’m long in ammo, weapons and canned goods… How ’bout you?
More Later
Big Country

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