My Liberal Diary

Day 117, My Liberal Diary
Ever have one of those weeks where nothing seems to click? Not that anything bad happens, just nothing good or satisfying? My wife, the Republican, has been depressed because of the anniversary of our son's violent death, but trying so hard not to show it. Her best friend is coming to visit this weekend. She always cheers up and I told her tonight, that it hurts my feelings, that she gets so up for her friend's visit, they go places and do things, but she never has any energy to do anything with me other that for a half hour or two. I bought crawfish for dinner last night and we went to the Gulf near Dauphin Island and had a picnic but a third of the crawfish were dead, they were way over-cooked and the no see ums were starving until I got there. I went to Traders to play a little music but the audience was small and rudely loud so I went home and couldn't think of anything to write that wasn't bummed out. I don't like seeing a glass that is half empty, I always try to keep it half full but I think the full-moon tide has some effect on that. Tim and I decided to have a jamkazam remote music session tonight but my band-width is really acting up so we had to cancel the session and he was doing an old Steve Earl song that I really wanted to play some guitar with, but I'll probably go into the studio and play it myself here in a bit or maybe I'll just go into the studio and let the spirits govern what I play. I burned my hand yesterday, while welding, and it is getting a might infected. A small third degree burn on the backside of my left thumb. It isn't painful or in a place that gets used much so I have more or less neglected it but I see the error in my ways by the annoying infection and realize that I have to tend to little things that annoy me. All this shit about that FBI guy that the President fired and the reactions of my "friends" to it is starting to annoy me. As a liberal, am I required to have an opinion about this? I hope not, because I really don't give a shit. It just impresses me as more of the circus, one more clown crawling out of that little car. I have a show with the Port City Songwriters on Sunday afternoon at the River Shack. It's kind of a cool place so maybe that will be worth the time. I don't care much for politics. It always seems to me, like the two party system is just different sides of the same coin. I spent most of my life as a conservative and I guess, in many ways, I still am. I don't care for big government, taxes, I don't mind that Mr. Trump is President as long as he doesn't start something that gets a bunch of folks killed. Fact is, I am pretty much the typical Liberal's worst nightmare, a liberal that chose to be one because I think I might be a Lesbian.

 

Day 118, My Liberal Diary
When I came in from work Friday evening, I had planned to accomplish most of the lawn care needed after all the rain we've had the past couple weeks. Since the Republicans ran all the Mexicans away and the white guy charges $150.00 to do it, I have under-taken this task for a while now because I make too much money to qualify for lawn care subsidies and my wife, the Republican, is frightened of all these South Alabama snakes that like bushy places. When she sees a South Alabama Yard Snake, the Colt Detective Special comes out along with her snake boots and she shoots it until she runs out of bullets. I did buy her a lot of snake-shot, these are cartridges that shoot a cluster of small lead pellets rather than a bullet, making the snake an easier target and also, protecting some what, her shooting up the neighbors property. I wouldn't be nearly as concerned about this, if it were not for the Florida frog thing, but in all fairness, that was before she had her overies removed and was still prone to PMS.
I got in around 5:00, so still had maybe three hours of daylight, even though the flesh-eating insects are ready for dinner. I had serviced my weed-whacker thing at work so I started with that tool because the last time I did this, I started by mowing the lawn and by the time I finished, I was tired and decided to wait until tomorrow to finish it and the rain started. This time, I whacked weeds then mowed, except the damned lawn mower wouldn't start. I ultimately decided a trip to the parts store was needed for a tune-up and the battery needed charging, no rain forecast for Saturday. First thing this morning, I did the needed repairs and began mowing down Jimi's Snake Haven. About a third of the way into this project, the mower threw a drive belt off and stopped cutting. Upon completing my appraisal of the lawn non-mower, I determined that a pin that secured the mower deck to the tractor, had been lost. A careful search of the newly mowed portion of Snake Haven failed to locate missing part. The belt was not damaged, it had just escaped the drive pulleys that operate turning the blades. I removed the mower deck from the tractor and I looked on-line to find a schematic of how the belt was threaded through the pulleys. By this time of morning, it was very hot and humid and I was lying in newly mowed grass, covered with it in fact, and probably, by the smell of it, a macerated dog turd or two as well. Looking at the schematic, it was apparent that a single pulley had to be temporarily removed to re-thread the belt and the only tools that I had immediately available, was the socket wrench that I had used to replace the spark-plugs. I knew the the odds of that particular wrench being the correct size was one in a million, but damn It fit!. I immediately replaced the drive belt then went inside and told Jimi to get dressed, we had to drive to Florida. "What happened", she asked, in a near panic...and I told that the wrench fit and we needed to go to Florida to buy a Lottery ticket. If I am that lucky, I sure didn't want to waste it. Being the Republican, she said I had to complete repairing the lawn mower and complete my mission to defoliate Snake Haven before I could run off to Florida and end our long-term life of poverty once and for all. A quick trip to Lowes and some biscuits and gravy and thick bacon from Dick Russel's later, I repaired the mower, defoliated Snake Haven back into a quaint country lawn, I robbed twenty dollars from the Bank of Nelly and got on my motor cycle, headed to Florida, did I mention that Alabama doesn't have a lottery?
I rode to Dauphin Island, to take the ferry across the Bay, looking forward to the ride but the ferry line was long and after a half hour or so of waiting, a worker came by and said it would probably the 6:30 boat before I could get a ride across Mobile Bay and it was only 4:30. I rode back to Mobile and called my wife to update her. She seemed a bit dour, when I told her that the ferry was backed-up and I had decided to take the interstate. I had already told her that I knew the winning number and I think the PowerBall this week is close to $500,000,000.00: After a cash out and taxes, that still leaves close to $200,000,000.00. We would be nigger-word rich (sorry, I find abbreviations offensive), for quite some time with that much money and I told her we would buy matching Mercedes convertibles and to call my yacht broker. She said she didn't want a Mercedes but despite her dourness, she did say that she would like a new Buick. It was well after dark, that I completed my mission and returned safely to the house with it's well manicured lawn, and the solution to my long-term financial planning. They will announce the winning numbers some time tomorrow and my chances of winning, given the spark plug wrench worked, are undeniable. I won't squander my fortune on automobiles, I am perfectly happy riding my motor cycle. I just want to be free from indentured servitude, well that, and my wife, the Republican; she'll get the lung-transplant she needs to enjoy our few remaining years together retired and living our liberal lives devoted to a more worthy cause, like moving from the Beach to the cabin on Kentucky Lake to avoid the seasonal discomforts of Global Warming.

 

Day 119, My Liberal Diary
Well today was a very satisfying day. I spent most of the morning happy in the knowledge that I had probably won 424 million dollars in the Powerball Lottery but alas, just like the Presidential election, the Russians rigged the drawing and my numbers were not selected despite the spark plug wrench fitting the lawn mower pulley. Apparently some Californian won the whole damned thing but that's alright; I got another plan.
My sister in law will be returning for a day or two from the Smith Family Reunion at Reelfoot Lake this week and my wife, the Republican, has her best friend visiting for the week. I had a most satisfying evening , playing music at the River Shack with the Port City Song Writer's Association even though one old guy threw up all over everybody at his table, immediately making all the waitresses loose any interest they had in servicing some of us for the rest of the evening, thereby causing me to loose any interest in leaving my usual large tip. They still catered to one table for the rest of the evening at the far end of the room and paramedics had to be called to take the woman away in an ambulance, no doubt, a victim of Margarita poisoning, a remnant danger imported to Alabama by illegal Mexicans. I didn't have dinner tonight mostly because of the inattentive waitresses but when I got home, a cold roast beef sandwich with Swiss and mustard and a glass of cold skim milk took the edge off and I started sensing something in the air...Estrogen! There is so much of it in the air here that I will surely begin lactating.

 

Day 120, My Liberal Diary

It was snowing and the roads were icing so we were driving slowly in the dark from Memphis to Blue Mountain, Mississippi. I had just taken my adult daughter to meet her grandmother for the first time in her life. It had been a pleasant visit and Leah was curious about how I could interact with my mother so well after having heard how she had abandoned her children, stealing my car and taking everything in the house of any value to subsidize her escape. I thought about how to answer that question carefully before responding. I told her that there are three of everybody, she looked puzzled so I explained. There is the person that everybody sees and thinks that they know based on their experiences with them. Then there is the person, the way they see themselves. And finally, there is the person you actually are. Sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is try to see a person the way they think of themselves because that is the person they want to be and would be, if the realities of life didn't collide head on with their intentions. Sometimes life just paints you into a corner and the only options are to either sit there, track foot-prints across the floor, or die. My mother chose to die by her own hand rather than sit in that corner and I intervened and she lived but had to leave to find something to give her back the will to live. She found that something and rebuilt a person that wanted to live and became the person that she wanted to be and two of those three people became one. If I look and see that person as she is, knowing that is who she wanted to be, then all three are combined and the world is a much better place. Yeah, there were some tracks on the floor that needed some touch-up but what the hell else you gonna do? Sit there and bitch about foot-prints when all you got do is spread a little more paint? God bless you all.

 

Day 121, My Liberal Diary
My smart-phone rang yesterday and I looked to see who was calling. Apparently it was me calling myself but I didn't bother to answer because I really didn't have anything that I needed to talk to myself about and if it were important, I was sure that I would leave myself a message. I didn't think about it any more until this afternoon when I got in from work and my wife answered a call from me on her phone while I was standing beside her naked and about to get into the shower so I am pretty sure it wasn't me. She said it was some kind of computerized menu that identified itself as me so I told her to just hand up, one of me around here is more than enough. I called my service provider to ask what was going on and they weren't much help, just told me not to give them any personal information. I am more concerned about them calling a few thousand dollars worth of those $1000.00 a minute pay as you connect numbers in Mumbai or somewhere. If I get a $100,000.00 cell bill this month, I intend to pay it with insufficient funds, then demand a refund. This should work, our government does it all the time.

 

Day 122, My Liberal Diary

Well, apparently the armed revolt has begun with a fellow Liber shooting up a baseball practice for a bunch of old guys? He didn’t do too good; folks are reporting between 60-100 shots that he fired from an- AR15 and only scored four hits from across a baseball diamond? I don’t want to offend any of my fellow snowflakes but, guys….as a former non-liberal, I have participated in many hundreds of shooting matches all across our nation and I really don’t know how to explain this, but I am just an average 3-gun competitor. That means I shoot matches that use a pistol a rifle, and a shotgun, all in the same match. Many of our USPSA pistol matches involve greater distances than from the dug-out to second base and we shoot them at a run because your score is determined by the number of hits in what we liberals might call, the kill zone, is divided by the elapsed time that it takes to complete the stage. I have seen many of my friends, and please bear in mind that these are Doctors, Policemen, Truck drivers, you know, regular people, not soldiers or gang-bangers; It is a very expensive sport to engage in and requires enough income to participate, given the costs., anyway, it is pretty common to see shooters put two holes in the alpha zone on say 20 targets staged in an obstacle course, at a dead run, in under 20 seconds, including multiple reloads. You don’t even want to know what they can do with a rifle/ Seriously guys; who the hell do you think bought all these firearms when our Lord Obama reigned? More guns and ammunition were bought during the Obama administration than was purchased in the entire 232 years prior in the United States, making that the single-most significant accomplishment of the Obama administration. Anyway, a great many of the folks that bought these millions of AR-15 rifles know how to shoot them and practice doing that for recreation. I am not a rocket scientist, but I truly believe that we should stick to queer marches and pussy suits, rather than heading down to Walmart to buy a rifle and some ammo, thinking that it works like Keneu Reeves in John Wick. Firing a weapon and hitting your target is a skill that must be learned and practiced to master it. Once you have mastered that skill, it has to be practiced to maintain any level of competency. The other advantage to spending time at the firing range, learning how to handle a weapon, is that you actually cannot help but learn to respect the lethality of that firearm and consequently, are not likely to go shoot up a baseball game thinking you can just spray bullets and drop the Republicans like bowling pins then head back to Starbucks for a Late, two raw sugars.

 

Day 123, My Liberal Diary

A friend of mine, a non-Liberal with issues, works as a life-guard at a community swimming pool. He insists that, from his life-guard chair, he can identify Liberals by the piss stains in the water around them and the self-satisfied expression on their faces. I do not know if this is true or not, but he claims that on several occasions, he has noticed that they almost always arrive or depart in a Prius or similar eco-efficient automobile with Clinton or Bernie stickers slowly fading away by the elements. He delivered this observation in a speech he recently made at the annual Life-Guards Of America Education Resources (LOAFER) meeting being held at a local Bonanza Steak House. The speech was maybe a little humorous to the less-informed, but it was thought provoking; do we actually have that many visual “Tells” that identify our supporters? I admit that the Pussy suits might be a give-away, but they usually are only worn for special events, such as a demonstration, Gay Rights marches, or maybe a small riot or two, but I still wonder what other characteristics might tend to tell the opposition that we are Liberal? It would make sense, that since we are out-numbered as evidenced by the results of our last election, we might seek a tactical advantage by being a little more sneaky: Clandestine Snowflakes Anonymous, CSA!

If the right-wing can’t identify us, then they can’t know how many of us there are or where we are and what we are up to, they might even begin to think that we out-number them and this will certainly make it easier for dead people, Undocumented Workers, and Cyber-voters to cast ballots in favor of our agenda without so much scrutiny from the enemy. I have begun to compile a list of “Tells” that we can avoid using in public or in a public forum that immediately warns the opposition of our identity and intentions!

1. Do not present any arguments that can only be authenticated by skewed statistics. Remember that the right-wing has us under surveillance and they have teams of real fact-finders that will jump right in with the truth about the numbers we are claiming.

2. Do not call the enemy names like ignorant, red-neck, racist, especially racist, unless you actually witness them lynching an African-American. They do not mind being called racist and all it does is point us out to them.

3. Shave those scraggy beards off unless you actually ride a Harley.

4. Buy large Mud-grip tires for your Prius and cover the Bernie/Hillory bumper stickers with ones that say “Don’t Tread on Me”, put a NRA sticker on your bicycle helmet, if you wear a T-shirt, make damned sure it doesn’t say anything about the Washington “Native Americans”.

5. Unless you actually are a Lumber-Jack, do not try to dress or look like one. The first thing they’ll do is see there are no callouses on your hands, dirt under your nails, and that your jeans are not actually dirty.

6. Learn the secret Right-wing handshake and use it to make them think you are one of them.

7. Replace the Gun-Free Zone sign at your house with one that says “This Property Protected by Smith and Wesson”.

8. Get rid of the Shitzu and the cats and buy a Mastiff or a Wienerdog.

9. Do not put posts on public forums demanding unrealistic things like impeachment, Free Health-care, or any other of our reasonable demands unless you can respond to logical debate without resorting to rhetoric, innuendo, supposition, made-up statistics, or rumor.

10. Do not piss in the public swimming pool, especially if you are a Vegan or taking vitamin B suppliments.

 

I would venture to say that more Democratic/Liberals are infected with HIV/AIDS STD's including Hepatitis, Perhaps you could do a survey among fellow liberals?

 

Day 124, My Liberal Diary
There must only be one barber in the entire country of Lesbia? How else could these Lesbians have such bad hair-cuts? They should spend a little more time shopping in the fashion department at Walmart, maybe try something besides flannel and spandex.
I don't seem to be hearing much from my liberal buds lately. I guess, since the shooting thing, we've sort of used the old standard "duck and cover" routine to avoid too much attention. Or maybe, since we failed in our attempts at getting all that free stuff from the government and rich folks, we've had to cut back our lavish life-style or, heaven forbid, get a job?
I have noticed that the only Mexicans that I've seen lately, were serving me Camarones a Diabla at Casa Rio the other evening but when I ordered in Spanish, they responded in English to make sure I wanted the shrimp because it's pretty spicy for a Liberal. I have been noticing that black people are dressing better lately. I haven't seen one with their pants below their butt in a few months now. I am sure that Donald Trump's bad hair has prompted us to try to dress a little better and I have no doubts, that even Lesbians will start to let their Butch-cuts grow a bit and maybe invest in a brush, rather that spike-jell. I keep trying to see the bright side of things and being fashion conscious is a good first step towards helping some of these very masculine looking women find a boyfriend.

 

Day 125, My Liberal Diary
I am in trouble now and it is some kind of right-wing conspiracy.
I mentioned before, that I am a Southerner. One of the benefits of being Southern is that we have some of the best cooking down here that you'll find anywhere and Chicken and Dumplings are a true Southern delicacy. It is very stormy today, so my wife, the Republican, decided to cook chicken and dumplings for dinner. I didn't ask for them but I was very pleased, to the point of asking several times if the chicken and dumplings were done yet. She asked if I wanted corn-bread too and of course I said yes; I mean, if you're gonna enjoy chicken and dumplins, a bit of corn bread just makes it easier to get all those savory juices. She also cooked some pinto beans with salt pork and I sliced some fresh tomatoes, onions, and a cucumber. You don't get this kind of meal anywhere else at home, so I was feeling sort of special.
She decided to take some of the corn-bread next door to my crazy mother in law, the evil sister in law and her husband, the Admeral. She said she would be right back, so I lit the dinner candles, set the table and spooned a nice portion of the feast onto my plate to cool while awaiting her speedy return...but she didn't come home in a timely manner so I put on my rain coat and walked down to see if she needed anything. Then I mentioned that I was just being very patient but would really like to go hoime and eat some of those delicious chicken and dumplings. I could sense something was not right, you'd have thought that I had farted at the dinner table, it was Sunday, and the Reverend Whatshisname was asking the blessing. Jimi mumbled something about beans and corn-bread, so I said again, Don't forget those dumplings! I am special, My wife made me Chicken and Dumplings and they're getting cold, don't mean to be rude but it's dinner time and I am hungry. I even petted their neurotic long-haired wienerdog.
It's only about a hundred yards from my crazy mother in law's house to our dining room but it felt like a mile. The Republican chewed me out all the way home for mentioning chicken and dumplings. I told her that I loved chicken and dumplings and thought she made the best ones that I have ever had and instead of accepting the compliment, she told me that she knew I would open my big mouth and that's why she had left me there, hungry and alone waiting for dinner while she delivered corn-bread to those people and left me here drooling while my stomach growled. It has taken me some time to comprehend that my transgression was simply mentioning that she had prepared chicken and dumplings after she had told her mother, sister, and the Admiral that we were having pinto beans and corn-bread for dinner and now they are all mad at her because she didn't mention the chicken and dumplings to them because she didn't want to invite them for dinner or didn't want to fix enough to feed them but somehow, that's my fault and I have caused the latest family uprising. I fully expect to be aroused in the wee-hours of the morning by an ax-bearing mother in law demanding left-overs. My dinner was cold but delicious. I better not belch.

 

Day 126, My Liberal Diary
I got a lot feedback from the right-wing yesterday, saying that they preferred not to be called Republicans. It seems that the more conservative folks are not Republican at all and have a bit of contempt for Republicans in general. They like being referred to as "Right-wangers" a term that I coined tongue in cheek but apparently amuses them. I haven't been using that term much lately because the spell-checker on my lap-top insists on auto-correcting it to Right-winners and I thought this might offend some of my Liberal associates. It appears that the overwhelming majority of people that I encounter, are in fact somewhat conservative but tend to think that the Republican Party are a bunch of tight-assed politicians with an agenda. They just are tired of politics and especially, politicians and would prefer to see the House completely cleared and re-stocked with regular people that have term-limits. They seem to agree that all the Newts and Mitst and Jebs are as bad for our country as the Maxcines, Nancys, Charlies, and Hillorys, and are pretty pleased that they elected a businessman to head the corporate office of the United States, rather than a politician. Much like only blacks can call themselves nigger, Trump and his supporters have given a new and unexpected meaning to RINO (Republican In Name Only) and are laughing all the way to the bank.

 

Day 127, My Liberal Diary
I got a call today, while at work, to ask if I would come home and dispatch a severely wounded cat. Apparently, someone's Pit-bulls broke their chains and decided to snack on a few of my crazy mother in law's herd of feral pussy-cats. I put the little creature down, it was way beyond any hope of recovery, and disposed of it a safe distance from Chinese Restaurants and now have been tasked with dealing with the wayward pups. I sure hope their owner finds them first and takes them home but if they continue to maraud the pussy-cats, I suppose I will kill them, as Mobile County really doesn't bother to send animal control around unless there is a rabid animal endangering soccer moms. I remember the last time that I was tasked with chasing away some vicious dogs. We were at my sister in law's apartment in Jacksonville, FL when she and my wife came running into the room, having narrowly escaped being mauled by three large aggressive dogs while walking back from the beach. I was talking to a friend on my cell, but told them that I would deal with the dogs, got a pot of hot water and went downstairs to find a very large, snarling Rotty, a huge slobbering Pit, and what looked like a Rhodesian Ridgeback with mange. All three dogs were in full-blown attack mode and I realized that I had committed a grievous error in judgement and choice of weapons. I severely dented the top of my sister in law's new car in my egress, but fortunately the owner residing in the downstairs apartment called them off before I could do them any damage with the aluminum potato pot I was using to discourage them from eating my leg. I will admit that words were exchanged with the dog's owner, who seemed to believe that it is perfectly acceptable to allow his large aggressive dogs to roam in a pack freely about a residential area. We ended the heated argument with my promise to shoot the owner, rather than his dogs, if they were allowed to attack innocent apartment dwellers again. I just can't get past this thing about being responsible for not only your pets and children, but the results of any ill-advised action that you might under-take. I accepted responsibility for the damaged automobile, since it was me that damaged it while trying to avoid being eaten alive and I fully expected the dog's owner to be held responsible if he let them loose out of his control again.

 

Day 128, My Liberal Diary
I was looking at my favorite boots. They are made of Kangaroo hide and were a Chrismas gift to me from my wife, the Right-wanger, nearly 30 years ago. They have been re-soled many times but still look good and are the most comfortable boots I have ever worn. I was contemplating new heels again and got to thinking about kangaroos and other marsupials. Marsupials are mammals that have built-in pouches to carry and nurse their young. Oppossums are marsupials, as are kangaroos. I do not think there are many humanoid marsupials but I could be ill-informed. Certainly, there are many women that could have a pouch or two with god know's what in them, given their abundant size. If they do not have pouches, they certainly could have them installed by simply making an incision, removing useless fat, then folding the excess skin into a pocket. They might even conceal their mammary glands inside them and could essentially walk around topless without offending any Baptists. Mothers could nurse their babies in complete privacy and they wouldn't need diaper bags, purses, strollers or those silly baby back-pack things. Into the pouch, you little rug-rats!
I have spoken before, on Southern quisine. Today, we had deep-fried wieners for dinner. We used those premium Yankee hotdogs, the ones that don't plump up, made by Boarshead, but Hebrew Franks and Nathan's work just as well. The traditional Oscap Meyer and Ballparks, that plump up, will explode if deep fried, but the Yankee weiners just crisp up and make the most delicious hotdog you ever had. I am sure that the only reason they haven't cought on up North is that they really just don't deep-fry stuff like we do down South. Around here, if it will hold still long enough, we'll fry it. I have had fried Oreo cookies, fried Snickers, Fried cheese, and fried every animal product from bacon to bullfrogs. That might be why there are so damned many fat Walmartians.

 

We call those ''Crack'ln'' mom mas here, Try bacon wrapped and grilled on the pit.
One can fry Boudin!

 

Day 129, My Liberal Diary
I was raised to be polite to folks. I open doors for ladies, always say yes sir or yes ma'm, something that my wife isn't real fond of but puts up with because she realizes it was the way I was raised to talk to people. I always insist on walking my crazy mother in law back to her door, when she visits. I don't call people derogatory names unless it is my intention to start a fight; I don't mean an argument, I mean an actual physical confrontation that results in one of more of us being injured. I prefer not to fight and will only do so in support of an impediment to something worth being injured and/or jailed over. The childhood adage about "sticks and stones" just isn't true. Word can do grievous injury, and once spoken, cannot be unheard.
Most people listen to their internal dialogue, thinking what they might have said or should have said, or would have said. I write my internal dialogue, usually as a song but many times, as a story or diatribe such as my liberal diary. Yes, this is the very shit that passes through my mind on a daily basis, but what stimulates it, almost never is mentioned. My dear Granny used to tell me that if I couldn't find something nice to say about someone, I should just keep my mouth shut and not say anything. I had a lot of respect for her but haven't always been able to follow her sage wisdom and am a bit prone towards expressing my opinion, whether it is wanted or not. That's enough preamble, so I'll get to my point.
I have lived with people all over this world, worked with them, laughed with them, played with them, argued with them, and fought some once in a while but I never owned one nor did any member of my family and I have never intentionally disrespected one unless it was over something worth fighting for. I can say exactly the same thing about women, negroes, Democrats, Asians, queers, yankees, Mexicans, and Baptists. I understand that you've all got your agenda, but I just really don't care. That's not being cold-hearted, if you come to my door hungry and cold, I will give you shelter and share my dinner with you, I just recognize that we all are different, have different circumstance that has shaped us into what we are at that moment, and just like a river, are all subject to change in direction by the very next stone in our path.

 

Day 130, My Liberal Diary
Snake-haven has returned with a vengeance, because of all the rain we've had recently. What little time I've had away from work has been during monsoons but the grass doesn't seem to mind. If I were wealthy, I would have my entire lawn covered in concrete. My wife, the right-wanger, has a stock-pile of shot-shells for her snake pistol. I mentioned the frog incident once before and several folks have expressed curiosity about it.
I was in Carolina on a diving project for the Army Corps of Engineers and hadn't been home for several weeks. I called to see how the home-stead was doing and I could tell by her voice, that something was wrong. When I asked what it was, she snapped "Nothing!" That's when I knew is was something.
I mentioned that this was back in the old days when PMS was a monthly factor, I am only mentioning this for historical reasons. I told her that I could tell by her voice that something was troubling her so she might as well get it out rather than trying to pretend everything was ok and she held up the phone so I could hear a chirping sound. "Listen, just listen...That damned thing has been screaming all day, all night, all week. Driving me crazy...Just won't shut up. ...Just listen." I laughed. It was a tree frog. I told her it was only a little frog and she said "It's driving me crazy! Damned thing just won't shut up! Keeps that up all night long, all day long.."
I told her there was nothing I could do about it, frogs live in Florida, we live in Florida, just one of those things. "I'm going to do something about it," she said. "I'm gonna shoot them damned frogs!"
The rest of the conversation was about how the kids were doing and when was I going to get to come home. I made it home a week or two later, walked into the bedroom with my suit case and noticed one of my 12 gauge pump shotguns propped in a corner. I picked it up and checked if it were loaded and a spent 00 buckshot round ejected. "Honey, did you shoot this gun?" I asked.
"I shot them damned frogs."
uh oh..."Honey, where exactly were them damned frogs, when you shot them"?
"In that palmetto bush, the other side of the pool".
"Where, exactly, were you standing when you shot those damned frogs"? I asked.
"In the sliding glass doorway in the den", she says. "I thought you said this this was a BB gun.."
"What?" Then I remembered before I left for my job, I had been loading some shot-shells to shoot skeet and she came into my room, picked up a few shots and said, "These look sort of like BBs" and I said they were, sort of, and that was all the information that she needed to process. I walked around the pool and parted the palm fronds, sure enough, there were eight .38 diameter holes in my fence. I peeked over the fence and could see eight more holes in the screened Florida room of the policeman's house directly behind mine, and eight more in the bricks of his wall beneath his bedroom window. I had never met this policeman, but we had a few incidents with his wife, the apparent neighborhood compliance person. She had reported an abandoned automobile in my driveway when I was in Trinidad for several months. She reported us for having a boat on a trailer in our driveway because there is a city ordinance about having a boat longer than 26' in your driveway. We won that one, the boat was only 24' long. She called the city to make us replace a board in our fence that her kid had removed so he could pet our golden retriever. I suspected she might call the mattress police to insure we hadn't removed any tags next. Now I have to go over there and explain that my wife has shot up the back of their house.
There was nobody home. I went back every hour until after dark, still nobody there, so I started again the following morning and the Policeman came to the door in his underwear, with a beer in his hand. I introduced myself, explaining that I lived in the house directly behind them and that while I was away on a job, my wife heard something outside late at night, a week or two ago and she had shot a hole in the back of their house with a shotgun. I said that he could hire whoever he wanted to repair the damage and I would pay for it. We walked around back and he looked at the holes in his screen, the broken bricks, the holes in the fence. I could see him do the geometry. He still hadn't spoken, just gave me that "Cop" stare. Then he shook his head and said "Don't worry about it. My wife does stupid shit like that too."

 

Day 131, My Liberal Diary
I don't understand why all these credit places keep sending me offers to borrow money, how do they think being further in debt helps when you are having problems making ends meet? In the past year, I have had to switch from Knob Creek to Jack Daniels, now Evan Williams; I miss my Knob Creek but only buy it now for holidays and special occasions like Martin Luther King Day or Ramadan. I have basically given up competitive shooting because I just can't afford the travel and I don't want to shoot up ammunition stores that I can't afford to replace. The government is talking about additional liquor taxes, guess I'll just have to switch to home-made whiskey. They bought so many billions of rounds of ammunition during the Obama administration, maybe they will start an entitlement program for former USPSA shooters that can no longer afford ammunition? I would be happy with just a couple of thousand rounds of practice ammo a week. I have noticed many things that I once took from granted, now being ignored because the money is always needed for other things, like eating. I used to change my guitar strings after every show but now, I only change them when they get so worn and flat that I am embarrassed to play them. I do not remember the last time I bought Levis jeans, it's Rustlers or Wranglers now because they are less than half the price. Rustlers are half the price of Wranglers so I use them for work. I will drive an extra twenty miles to avoid a toll bridge and someone stole the spare tire from beneath my truck. I suppose I could buy another one but I'll just call triple A if I have a flat and let them worry with it.I thought that when I became a liberal, there would be so much more disposable income since I could get food-stamps, a free Obama phone, housing subsidies, free health care, not to mention all the neat stuff I could steal while looting during one of our peaceful protest marches, but so far I haven't been able to qualify for damned thing, not one.

 

Perhaps Obama would share some of his vacation money with you.
Obamas under fire from the left for never ending, sizzling ultra-luxury vacations

 

I finally got something for free! The Aids Coalition sent me some rubbers and I believe I might qualify for a free abortion!