Blog-a-Saw

B4:20 (+playlist)

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Thu, 20 Mar 2014 01:09:00 +0000

Let The Bellyaching Begin

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Wed, 07 Nov 2012 19:33:00 +0000

I predicted this would happen twelve years ago. For many of us, that was the first time we heard Obama speak or learned his name. I am just as much of an American as anyone, but felt all along that I had no dog in this hunt. I watched with a certain detached curiosity throughout the entire political season. I tried to remain impartial and to make fun of both candidates and the system equally. Of course, taking no discernible side makes you the enemy of both sides. Have you considered that some stay on the fence because there are vicious dogs in both yards and those dogs might be too stupid to know who to and who not to bite?

I got up this morning and prepared my coffee as usual, I then went out for a walk as it brewed. The clouds were the same colors, the wind smelled the same, and there was no mass hysteria in my neighborhood. In short, the world had not ended, and my job was still waiting for me.

All one need do, is turn on the television and voila, walla for the rest of us, you know it all. I am so glad this is over. As so many of my supposed friends have recently pointed out, I as a democrat, who has yet to vote for a democratic president, can now go back to spending all my time smoking medical marijuana, walking to the mail box to get my welfare check, once a month, and waiting for my next opportunity to vote, once every two years, so I can turn our country into some sick, twisted mix of socialism, communism and the sixties. Being a democrat is such a hard life.

As I predicted this outcome, I now predict what will happen in the next four years. Next year the deficit will be bigger and regardless of how many are out of work, those who are will still be just as hungry. Many will be employed, but will continue to work at jobs for leading corporations that do not provide adequate salaries, hours or benefits and certainly do not hold respect or concern for them. The homeless problem will continue to grow and be swept under the rug, so it doesn’t scare the rest of us. There will be over six million children abused and at least ten of those children will be beaten to death each day. Taxes, tension and what is demanded of us will continue to increase. Our rights, the American dream and peace of mind will continue to decrease.

We will continue to build prisons and continue to choke down the overworked judicial system with cases against those whose crimes are committed against themselves and, don’t forget, other frivolous lawsuits. Tell me again why we continue to elect lawyers to run our country; they seem to have done a marvelous job with everything else they got involved in. The wars on Iraq and Afghanistan may subside, but we will continue the wars on terrorism and drugs. Both are similar to fighting with mythical and illusive creatures that disappear when pursued too vigorously. Neither one weakens but strengthens with each battle.

Sorry, but all of this is a consequence of our current political shortcomings. This outcome was predestined regardless of the winner of the election. All the above mentioned problems have been marching in the same direction for as long as I can remember. In what world do we dream this will change?

So now the bellyaching begins. We have four more years to hear how awful this president is; just as we had to listen to how incompetent Bush was for the eight years before that. It’s funny, I remember listening to just as much bellyaching about Carter, Reagan, another guy named Bush and Clinton, seems to be a trend. As long as we continue to bellyache, we are not asking questions, it’s what they want and exactly what they get.

The people have spoken, and this election was far from the closely contested elections of the recent past. I urge all Americans to get over it and get busy with the reforms we so badly need. Remember that one person, the president, does not make or break this magnificent nation, but one person, you, can make a difference. Politics demands that politicians now slip into some sick form of stalemate and try everything in their power, to not accomplish, anything. Our country can no longer afford to sit by and allow this to happen, get involved in something real, instead of the smoke and mirrors of party politics. If you think the administration is weak, then use this opportunity to take back the country.

Thank God this reality television show is over, now we can go back to watching things with substance and credibility, like wrestling.

http://www.kennesawtaylor.com/
http://facechildabuse.com/

Never Enough Stuff

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 04 Nov 2012 17:37:00 +0000

Why do we need so much stuff? In fact, much of the stuff we think we need only serves to make us miserable. I’m perfectly happy with my two pairs of shoes and much to my wife’s dismay; I continue to wear only one of them. The other pair must sit idly by in the closet and wonder what they did.

We’ve had this discussion; my wife has about two hundred pairs of shoes. Try as she may, she cannot find a way to wear, two pair at one time. All those shoes sit in the closet and call to her, in the night, her stuff haunts her. She is the only person I know whose stuff has stuff. We moved recently, and much of our stuff was placed in storage.

So being a guy, I only imagined I had stuff to worry about. You know, things like. Is Georgia going to beat South Carolina? Or worse, Georgia lost that game, now the question has to be asked for another whole year. Was that pig’s foot, on the ground, too long to pick it up and eat it? If no one sees me pick it up, did it actually fall, at all? Sorry there are just some foods that are too good to let a little thing like touching the ground or falling on the table stop you from eating them. Peanut M&M’s, for example, macaroni and cheese or BBQ ribs. Is my beer cold enough? Is my steak hot enough and does my wife know about the two hundred bucks stashed in the garage? Does she know about the girl next door who keeps asking to go mud bogging in my truck? Will those tires get me through that mud hole or do I need to buy bigger ones? What are the two guys names who are running for president and are either, for or against gun control? These are the true questions of life, but for a small, uncommonly cute Peruvian woman, the questions are much more complex.

When we moved, at least 196 pairs of shoes, eighteen hair brushes and dozens of coats were placed, with tons of other stuff, in storage. Poor girl has not had a decent night’s sleep ever since. When we eat dinner out, she gets a little misty, and we then have to pay a visit to the storage unit, which is out of the way, and a little too far to go at ten p.m. She must sit in the unit and console her stuff for a few minutes, trying desperately to make her stuff and herself feel better about the plight they collectively find themselves in. She pets and whispers sweet nothings to the abandoned stuff and upon returning home falls asleep with tears drying on her face. Whimpering in the night is more likely related to visions of abandoned brushes, not horrific scenes caused by too many onions at dinner or too many late night horror movies.

Recently she made a trip to D.C. To prepare for the trip a visit to the storage unit was required. Of course, the mental fall out of that trip will take weeks for her and her poor mistreated stuff to get over. She dug and picked through everything in the unit, to select one coat for the trip. As with each visit, much more than is needed returned to our already packed, little apartment. It’s kind of like going shopping, your wife picks out ten pairs of shoes, you tell her that three will do, she agrees to buy eight, but somehow checks out with twelve. You smile and pretend not to notice, simply so you may live to fight another day.

I was married to a Georgia girl before, picking a coat to make the D.C. trip would have been an easy thing after all a fur lined jean jacket goes with everything. For my wife, it was a life altering decision. She wanted to take five, for a three day trip, but ultimately settled on four. One pair of pajama’s turned into four, and several brushes, a lamp and whatever could be placed in the car, when I wasn’t looking, made the trip home, as well. Here’s the crazy part, she already has six brushes, I have one, every time she leaves the house, mine is the one that goes with her.

Stuff and the worrying over stuff causes too much stress. My poor wife tosses and turns over the mental health of her stuff and as long as some of it is relegated to live in the dungeon at the public storage building, she will continue to have nightmares. We will continue to make visits at odd hours to comfort its contents. I’m not sure her stuff feels any better after our visit, but she does and after all isn’t that what counts?

A political Storm

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 28 Oct 2012 18:00:00 +0000

A Political Storm

Forecasters believe that Sandy will wreak havoc during the upcoming presidential election. She could close down polling stations; create massive power outages, keeping thousands from voting, and causing a myriad of problems tallying the votes that are cast. In effect, she could have a massive negative impact on the election. Wow, two elections back to back, the last storm of this magnitude was named Sarah and she had the same effect. I predict the political storm of the 2016 election will be named Hillary.

It is no secret, I am no fan of Sarah Palin, and it pains me to defend her. The shuck and jive comment she made is another example of people wanting to be offended. From what I can find, this comment did have negative connotations in the eighteen seventies. However, in the nineteen seventies it became part of pop culture and was widely used. Saying she meant it as a racial remark is like saying groovy or cool are racial slurs. I don’t remember anyone coming out against the Bee Gee’s for the song Jive Talkin.

I am so glad that I will only have to write one more of these columns. Next week we will know whom our next president is, and we should be able to go on with the business of going on with our business. I will go back to writing funny little columns about life. Many will be just beginning the newest cycle of abuse perpetrated against whoever becomes the leader of the free world. Whoever wins will be vilified and talked about for the entire time he is charged with running our country. I have said it before and will repeat it now. Once the election is over, and the people or the electorate have spoken, the time for partisan politics is over, and the country must stand behind whoever has won. I implore the nation to get behind the winning candidate and to make the next four years something that will make our children proud of us. Let 2012 be a turning point in our history that makes the next two hundred years our best yet.

I watched the last debate, certain that I would be as displeased as I was with the other two, but was pleasantly surprised. Both Romney and Obama were subdued and seemed genuinely concerned about our future. Both lay out road maps, which in theory, will take us in the right direction. I know from years of watching the world and its unpredictable players that the route will continue to change as we travel along, but at least they both have a plan.

There was a marked improvement in the amount of respect shown by the candidates to each other and to the moderator. Obama bombarded Romney with dozens of questions and made many statements that were left unanswered. Romney alluded to bad times, but there were several instances where he admitted to be talking about the prior administration. He also qualified several statements with, not you Mr. President, which some may see as a sign of weakness instead of an indication of the strong character he possesses. In short Romney did not go for the throat, which is what is expected during this stage of the election.

A few quotes.

“Nation building at home.” Obama. I would rather have a hot poker rammed into several sensitive areas of my body than to hear this statement again.

“I successfully ran small businesses and saved the Olympics.” Romney. I wish that when Romney stepped into a phone booth, to become superman before saving the Olympics, a garbage truck had run over the phone booth. I hope I never hear about the Olympics again.

“A military response is unacceptable.” Romney. The only problem with this is, this statement only had merit during the election cycle and remember war is profitable to profiteers.

“Wrong and reckless.” Obama. If I hear this one more time, I’m gonna lose the expensive cheeseburger I just finished and Lord knows I cannot afford to lose food.

Romney spoke of escalating problems in the Middle East and Iran being four years closer to nuclear weapons and the fact that Israel and Palestine are no closer to peace than they were four years ago. No, say it isn’t so.

The Middle East has always been a problem and four years from now, regardless of whom wins, it will still be a problem, Iran will be four more years closer to nuclear weapons and Israel and Palestine will still be throwing rocks at each other.

“China wants the world to be free and open.” Romney. Obama and Romney seem to both be surprised that China is cheating. Am I the only one who remembers Vietnam, Korea and Tiananmen Square?

The next four years will be tough regardless of the winner. If you walk what you talk, pray for whoever wins.

Prancing Political Peacocks

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Mon, 22 Oct 2012 16:40:00 +0000

First, I write for several weekly papers and their deadlines dictate when my stories run. This may sometimes give the impression that I’m behind.

What exactly is a debate and does it actually have any merit? If you decide who to vote for by watching this farce, we are in more trouble than I imagined we were, and I have a powerful imagination backed by a wagon load of facts or more aptly a wagon load of manure.

This particular debate happened to be between Roboma and Obomney. Both were wearing suits which cost more than most of us make, in any three month period. The mediator was disrespected, and the rules of engagement were totally ignored. The questions, asked by Americans, were also passed over. Once a question was asked the candidates simply used it to segway into whatever point they wants to make, leaving the original question squirming in the gutter unanswered.

The question about gas prices proved both candidates lack of understanding for the average American’s plight. Obama turned it into an environmental issue and maybe it is. Romney turned it into one of Obama’s foremost failings, that’s sort of like blaming the gas rationing of the seventies on him. “The proof is at the pump.” Romney said. Gas pumps are similar to slot machines, or one armed bandits. Americans continue to pump in money and pull the handle, but like all other gambling establishments, the house always wins. Gas pumps are simply ticker tape ten ninety nine’s for big business, foreign investors and oil companies.

Romney promises not to raise taxes on all his friends in big business. That is a new concept never used by a politician before, be careful not to step in it. Romney promises to leave the taxes where they are on the upper class, and drop them on the middle class. What alternate reality is he living in? You can’t do both of those things. Does it truly matter? If they raise taxes on the upper class, as Obama recommends, the upper class then raises the prices of their products and the middle class pays whatever increase is imposed, in the end. To continue to say the rich pay over sixty percent of taxes is an insult to our intelligence. I still believe a flat tax is the only way to go.

“I know what a strong economy looks like.” Romney said. Where exactly did he see such an animal and why are we not treating him like all the other people who claim to have seen Sasquatch, UFO’s, Elvis and the Easter Bunny?

Both promised to get tough on China. Does that mean, as we’ve been getting tough on Iraq and Afghanistan? We cannot afford to get tough on China, neither will do it, and we better hope no one tries it in the future. China is cheating, Romney said. What, are you sure? Duh huh.

“We can’t afford another four years.” Romney said. I don’t think we can afford another four like the eight before. Romney was very sure to point out that he is no George Bush. Wait, until the debate Georgie was a hero, right? If I were Junior I would poke out my lips and then shrug and go back to trying to pound that square peg into the round hole.

Both candidates turned the question about immigration into one about classes. We want those who have skills and money to start small businesses, but not those chasing the American dream we are so proud of.

“Go after gangbangers not students.” Obama said. This was one of the best comments of the night. Romney’s take on this, seems to be, make the American dream such a nightmare that these people deport themselves because it will no longer be desirable to stay here. Where exactly do us poor Americans fit into this and what happens when our government purposely turns the American dream into a nightmare?

“The middle class is being crushed.” Romney said. This might have been the truest comment, from Romney, of the night.

The question of gun control was answered by Romney with the idea of telling people who aren’t married they should not have babies, I’ve got an abstract mind, but even my mind could not make that trip. I got terrible news for both; a cheap hand gun and an AK both kill you just as dead.

Gun control is not the answer, we as a society must work together to stop the violence running rampant across America. Expecting the Government to do it is about as bright as expecting schools to raise our children. Child abuse, neglect, and as strange as it may seem, a severe lack of discipline for our kids, causes much of our violence, Fix the child, fix the future. How’s that for a political sound bite? No one talked about that, big surprise, they never do.

A Bike, Bag, Book, A Bunch Of Bikinis And A Bus

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 14 Oct 2012 17:21:00 +0000

A Bike, Bag, Book, A Bunch Of Bikinis And A Bus

I will never forget the bus ride to Manila, Philippines, back in 1980. I was traveling the world and always tried to take public transportation as a social experiment.
There is no better way to learn about a country or to have an adventure than to ride mass transit in a place where you don’t speak the language.

The air was conditioned, but it was conditioned by the open windows and the retched musty smells coming from the humid jungle. Added to this, were those smells coming from the tightly packed mass of humanity inside the bus and the over two dozen more small brown bodies stacked on top of it. Don’t forget the half dozen chickens and the one pig which ran around underneath our feet during the entire eight hour trip, and the smells they produced, of course.

Every time the bus slowed there were vendors shoving anything you can imagine through the windows. Getting a beer was easier than getting one in a bar and they were colder. On that bus were many young, beautiful country girls, this is a trend on buses worldwide it seems.

The subways in Tokyo were the most packed mass transit vehicles I’ve ever ridden; they were filled with short men in black suits and beautiful girls with slanted almond eyes. There were people standing at every door at every station, they were like shoe horns for people; it was their jobs to pack in, addition people after the trains were full as people.

The trip to Victoria Peak on the island of Hong Kong was so steep you could barely stand on the train, but was the most beautiful ride I ever took. There is something truly lovely about breath taking scenery when it is filtered through polluted air. The pollution mingles and mixes with the sunsets and sunrises and even with the falling dew of the morning and evening, to create uniquely amazing, unforgettable scenes.

There was the open air train somewhere in amongst the beer and some Middle Eastern country I can’t quite remember the name of. It rocked along with a mountain rising up on the left side of it and a beautiful desert on the right. The tracks were in such poor shape that it occasionally jolted so hard it threatened to jump the tracks, and when it did, dust cascaded through the air, turning the world tan for a few moments. The beer was not only for recreational purposes, but a requirement to quell the underlying fear involved in the ride.

So I realized it was costing me over seven hundred bucks to drive across Miami, to work each month. Don’t you love parking and tolls? Paying for parking is like paying the dentist to hurt you. Tolls are taxes the government doesn’t call taxes. It’s like the lottery; you can’t steal it if it isn’t there. This seems to be the mantra for governments everywhere.

I decided to relive the adventures of my youth and take the Miami-Dade transit system to save a little money. First I needed to pack a bag and grab a book, then I mounted my trusty bike and ride about ten blocks to the nearest bus stop, the furthest south western stop in the system. The trip takes about a hundred and twenty minutes, and it requires me to haul the three b’s up three escalators, down three flights of steps, from one bus to a train and then from that train to another bus, getting off at the furthest north eastern stop of the system. I get to read a lot, and it saves me over six hundred bucks a month, I’m not complaining. It actually only takes about fifteen minutes more than it did when I was driving, and there are no traffic jams to contend with.

Bike racks have replaced the pigs and chickens, and the air is conditioned. The scenery is as beautiful as any in the world, face it Miami is beautiful. There are still the smells of tightly packed people just getting off of work and the sweet icky stuff they use to hide such smells, but it ain’t bad. There are still the vendors selling anything you can imagine you want and many things you don’t want at Government Center in the heart of Miami, but I’ve outgrown wanting or needing most of their wares. There are still the homeless moving from where they don’t live to where they won’t live.

There are still more people who don’t speak English than do and young, pretty girls from all over the world. In the afternoons there are hundreds of colorful skimpy bikinis packed tightly with those girls, coming from the beach. Life is still an adventure and riding the Miami Public Transportation System has proven to be a good experience. Life continues to be good.

Taking Big Bird Out Back

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 07 Oct 2012 16:46:00 +0000

Taking Big Bird Out Back

I want to thank the candidates for clearing up my complete misconceptions about our countries troubles and our political system. Apparently we as Americans are simply too dense to understand what is important.

Somehow I erroneously believed that our debt and particularly the part of it, we owe to China was a product of massive run away government spending, and it was Big Bird all along. I also believed it to be the result of wasteful and lavish spending by large corporations, but learned this week it is tied directly to The Cookie Monster and his affection for cookies. I am now aware that it has nothing to do with billion dollar bonuses for CEO’s or the bailouts we provide them which amounts to government subsidized perks for the rich and infamous.

I was under the impression the enormous salaries we pay the congress and senate were somehow contributing to the national debt, but it turns out that Mr. Rogers was actually the enemy. Funny I never heard Mr. Rogers speak Chinese.

I was stupid enough to believe that the insane state of the welfare system might be influencing the ongoing Chinese financing of America. Many people are already calling for welfare recipients to be drug tested before receiving benefits. Do these people understand how much such a program, if implemented, would cost? It would cost more to drug test them, than it would to simply pay the benefits. The next asinine thing I expect to see on the social media is this statement. A government study was released today which found that welfare recipients spend their days, stoned watching Big Bird and having sex, all at the same time.

Of course, the conservatives hate NPR and their brand of political propaganda, and I don’t disagree that they are biased, but like Republicans and Democrats they are a necessary part of our system. They are also a necessary part of our educational system. Many children arrive in school without the basic knowledge needed to start school. How much worse would it be, without NPR, PBS, Big Bird and all their buddies? Cutting funding for PBS, which is minuscule, would be like driving a stake into the heart of our educational system to stifle someone who disagrees with you politically.

I think that Romney will regret allowing this statement to escape his mouth for the rest of his short political career. I’m not saying I think Obama should win, I’m saying he will win.

The worst part of this and the part no one wants to admit to. The average American does not understand taxes. Many believe them to be some sort of government savings account and treat them as such. Many wait with crossed fingers for their yearly refund hoping it will buy them the car they need or pay for a family vacation. Most people listen to the horror stories about SSI and pray for its future, but have little understanding of it. The health care system is so complicated that many who have insurance would rather pay than try to wade through the muddy complicated waters involved in filing the paperwork.

Americans pay for insurance, but the system is so complicated and mired with false claim rejections that it can hardly be used by anyone without a degree. That will be the next prominent American rip off and lie, you’ll need a degree to file or sell insurance which will drive the costs even higher. Doctor’s now hire people to file insurance paperwork, if they didn’t they would never get paid. If you pay for insurance, shouldn’t the company help you file and make sure your doctor get his money so you don’t end up having to pay anyway? I remember when they called this customer service.

The fact that this Big Bird thing has become a key campaign point proves everything I’ve been saying for months. All politicians are relatively the same, and all of them will talk about everything, to avoid talking about anything. A debate that cost millions and is so crucial should never be allowed to turn into a political quagmire by Big Bird. I am truly scared for America.

My point is this, Americans may not understand the above overly complicated systems, designed as smoke screens, to keep Americans in the dark, but they do understand Big Bird. Anyone who believes such a ludicrous idea like Big Bird is bad for America is drinking the equivalent of broccoli flavored Kool Aid and the worst part; he will convince others that it tastes yummy. The candidate who threatens to take Big Bird out behind the barn, is the one who loses in America, sorry. The one who goes out back to stop the raised fist wins. Wait and see!!!

Dead Kitties Tell No Tales

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Tue, 25 Sep 2012 15:01:00 +0000

To see Audio Book click here

I recently received an e-mail about two teenagers microwaving a kitten to death. Once such an idea or ugly picture is engrained in your mind, it is hard to shake it. I spent several hours researching this story, in an attempt to understand what would cause two teenagers to do such a thing. I would rather believe it to be some sick case of abuse, leaving the poor teenagers so disturbed that they could not help themselves. Anything but believe that a fifteen and thirteen year old could do something so cruel on the own accord.

All my searching produced no results, it turns out the story might be a fake. However, don’t get too happy, there are dozens of such cases from all over the world.

In the UK, there is a woman who was recently jailed for 168 days for microwaving a neighbor’s cat to death. Why did she do it? Because the neighbor reported her boyfriend for physically abusing her, some people don’t deserve help. The judge helped her a little, at least he won’t be beating her for 168 days.

There are several cases of small children who are probably too young to know the difference doing it, children under the age of five or so. It seems to be a pattern that burglars are sometimes microwaving cats while burglarizing homes. Maybe reports of such things being perpetrated by deprived individuals are spurring such copy cat stupidity by teenagers. Who can argue that teenagers are inclined to do stupid things?

A lawyer in Maryland recently microwaved a kitten to death and is using alcoholism and depression as his defense. I say a little jail time might at least cure his alcoholism and the severe case of horse’s butt he’s suffering from. How big are prison microwaves? I’m just asking, don’t take it too serious.

Then you have the closest thing to reality that I could find. A fifteen and sixteen year old in Pennsylvania, placed a kitten in the microwave recently and apparently too stupid to grasp the concept of such complicated technology, threw the microwave and the kitten out a three story window. Being cruel is horrible; being cruel and stupid is simply tragic.

All this brings back one of the horrors of my childhood and one of the most horrible episodes in my book, Informally Educated, which was released as an audio book yesterday, September, 23^rd and is the true story of my growing up in an abusive household.

When I was eight, I had a kitten; I also had three younger siblings who were like stair steps. My step father Jack, had named the kitten the N word, because he was solid black and Jack was solid prejudice. The kitten had gotten into the habit of eating food left on the table overnight, biscuits covered with a rag; that sort of thing. Jack had soaked some left over hamburger patties in hot sauce, the night before. They were left on the table, to teach the kitten a lesson.

We all arrived in the kitchen together that morning, there was the kitten eating a hamburger patty. He would take a bite, and shake his head as he chewed it. Then he would bat the rest around, trying to figure out why it was burning him. He would then go for another bite. We watched for a time and soon started to giggle. It was cute, and we had not yet learned that giggling was tempting or possibly defying fate.

Suddenly, in one bound Jack was at the table. He scooped up the kitten, wound up like a pitcher and threw him against the wall, which was only the width of the table away. We watched in horror as the kitten literally exploded and fell to the table in a pile of intestines and blood, squirming only briefly before it died.

The poor kitten died on the same plate that contained the hamburger patties. We spent the rest of a nightmarish childhood, eating at that table and never knowing with any certainty, which of us were eating off of the plate the kitten had squirmed to death on. To this day I rarely eat at the dinner table. In our home, the table, our bedrooms and Christmas mornings were the main ingredients of our lifelong nightmares.

There are many lessons learned from a kitty, and not all of them are pretty.

Free No More

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 23 Sep 2012 17:46:00 +0000

I remember when free meant free, It didn’t mean, watch your wallet. I remember when dirt, water and Americans were free. Now dirt is sold in bags, water costs more than gas and big business is coming up with ways to charge us for air, an air bill, holy moly. All my life people have been paying to have pine straw removed from their yards, now people pay to have pine straw scattered in their yards. How about green stamps? You could save and don’t forget lick a gazillion green stamps and get anything in the world.

I remember when you could collect an entire set of dish or bath cloths and towels buying flour. You could collect an entire set of glasses buying jelly. I’m not sure if you were buying the jar and getting the jelly free or the other way around.

Remember a certain caramel popcorn that used to include prizes in their product? One of them was a tattoo, now all of them are tattoos. There used to be things similar to scratch off lottery tickets that you would receive for free, simply because you bought something. The government discovered how much money was in the lottery business, and those became illegal. Here is an amendment to an old saying. Don’t steal or have raffles, the government hates competition.

Nothing is free now, and the word has become the twenty first century’s newest curse word. Internet companies use it as a trap. If they want more visitors to a web page, all they need to do is tag the page with the words free and sex, it’ll get us every time. We are a nation of suckers. The only way to get anything free today is by buying a new car and paying three times its worth. Someone has to pay those people who make them, three times what the rest of us poor suckers make. Of course, that’s not entirely true either, but merely a rumor started by the bosses, to shift attention from the ridiculous salaries they make, to those sweeping the floors. If you buy a car and get a free vacation and more importantly believe that you did, you my friend will buy beach front property in Arizona.

The housing industry is in the toilet, sorry no matter what anyone says, it still is. Now the rental industry has a captive audience. The bankers, lawyers, real estate people, credit companies and finance institutions have had their way with the American public. Now it’s time for the rental industry to take its turn. The average American has no money and no credit. That means we are allowed to rent an apartment for twice what it’s worth and pay three deposits to do it. People are being forced to provide bogus documents and use others credit and income to qualify to rent. What happens when the rental industry crashes? Crap that is too insane to imagine, but it may be next. Does anyone else believe that this industry is being controlled by the same idiots who shoved high interest homes, we could not afford, down our throats?

In some places, driving is not free, the police use us as money farms, we are pulled over for the craziest stuff. Remember when even a scary dude with a gun had to have a reason to search your home or car? It’s not their fault; it’s another way for our governments to extract taxes they can’t legally steal.

How about parking? Parking has become another way for the cities to have their way with us. See, that expensive air I was talking about earlier isn’t as crazy as it seems. My car was towed in Athens last year, and ten bucks worth of yogurt cost me two hundred and sixty bucks. It was towed in Miami Beach recently, and I still believe I was parked legally and simply had the misfortune of having out of state plates. I had just written about the television shows Cops and South Beach Tow, talk about ironic.

So in the process of trying to get back my property that I had already paid for once, I taught those at Tremont Towing a few colorful words and a few others we only use in Georgia. I left with lighter pockets and my old car. The next day, South Beach Tow, called me and asked if I’d like to be on the show. On my fifty second birthday, I taped an episode of the show and it will air on trutv in November, on the fifth episode of the season. Of course, by the time we had finished shooting, I had made the star of the show so mad, she had to slam, taze and pepper spray me. Turns out, getting beat up by a girl and enjoying it on your birthday, is still free. Life is peachy.

Bigger And Better Battles

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 16 Sep 2012 20:53:00 +0000

Bigger And Better Battles

Kennesaw

We are smack dab in the middle of a war we engage in every four years. A war that divides average Americans so deeply that it takes four years to heal the rift created. Ok I’ll buy it; somehow this is good for the country.

Political parties decide the two biggest bullies and then try to make us believe we made the decision. Once we buy into that bull, we get busy buying into all the other bull that goes along with it. We will fight amongst ourselves for at least a year before we presumably decide who wins. Millions of dollars will be spent by those who prove to be terrible stewards of our freedom, in the end, to prove one is better than the other.

Millions are spent to make thousands. Does that make sound business sense? How can we place our trust in anyone, who would take on such a losing proposition, to make decisions that are beneficial to our country?

A popular debate, campaign reform is akin to military intelligence and always concentrates on where the money comes from. Maybe we should pay more attention to who writes the lies. Wouldn’t it be better if we removed the spin factor? Make the politicians write and research their own lies. It would be much harder to come up with and keep the lies straight if they could not utilize speech writers and fact checkers. I dare say many would be caught in there constant web of lies and found out for their twisting of statistics and truths.

Who honestly cares where the money comes from? It might be better to look at where it ends up. Once you reach a certain amount of money, and for average Americans that amount is somewhere in the thousands, it becomes relative. For politicians, that number is in the millions. There is such a ludicrous amount of money involved in the election process that there is no way, someone exposed to that much filth can ever respect money or just how vital it is to the average American, ever again.

Take a guy who has more money than he could ever spend, throw so much money in his face and dare him to commit every form of deception imaginable and then expect him to represent the land of the free with integrity. Why are we shocked to get the same guy wearing the same smile, stealing the same money, wearing a different suit?

There are several things we as Americans love so much that they start earlier each year, such as Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween and of course presidential elections. What do all these have in common? They are all about or have become about money. Many people Christmas shop year round, and soon the election cycle will run continuously. We may be able to vote for the next president when we buy gas. Would you like cash back? Would you like a car wash today? Would you like a receipt? Who would you like to vote for as the next president? After four years, the oil companies would count the votes and determine the winner of the election.

Ok that wouldn’t be much of a change; the oil companies, insurance companies and the biggest asset holders in the country, the Chinese, already do that. So once we listen to a mounting pile of mess we as Americans go to the poles and try to make our uninformed decision. Of course if you believe the system we are not smart enough to figure out how to use the voting machines, and it is ultimately our fault that we elect dubious characters. Forget the fact, that ultimately the electoral votes decide our fate.

I would just as soon not get involved in that can of worms, but here goes. It was decided long ago we were not smart enough to make our own decisions and that system was created to save us from ourselves. It might need to be ended, but we continue to prove the creators of the system right, with the decisions we think we make.

As we wage war on ourselves, the rest of the world takes advantage of our ridiculous preoccupation. We have been attacked all over the world this week because someone who isn’t an American made a hate movie against the Muslim religion, in America. I wanted to write an article about that, but there are so many instances of atrocities on both sides throughout history, that I decide it was asinine to try.

Religious war is the purest form of an oxymoron to be found. The facts, lies, and idiotic justifications swirl in such a heated vortex that it’s best to stay out of it entirely. The war between Muslims and Christians is ten times older and ten times bigger than our elections, but they have many similarities and we love to hate both.

Sanitation Santa's

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Wed, 12 Sep 2012 20:54:00 +0000

Sanitation Santa’s

I remember Flip Wilson talked about his uncle getting a job on a garbage truck. It paid twenty-five bucks a week, and all he could eat. Driving behind a garbage truck is pretty awful stuff. It only takes one stop to understand that there is always garbage truck juice dripping from it. That means when the truck is moving, the wind is atomizing that juice and you can never be sure where it’s going. Driving behind one on a motorcycle is even worse. These are the rational thoughts of an adult.

The memories of a child are an entirely different affair. In the summer of 1968, my siblings and I were moved to the city of Savannah, it was a far cry from the rural area we had grown up in. There were drunks on the streets and crime on every corner. In the world, we had grown up in, one did not ride in cabs, use umbrellas and knew everyone who lived as far as a young child could wander in a day.

Trash was walked into the woods and dumped in a large pile, usually near where the old outhouses stood. The outhouses had only recently been abandoned in our corner of the world. Many adventures, injuries and a few treasures were found playing near or on old abandoned trash piles. Old cars were not traded in, but were driven as far into the woods as possible, wherever they stopped is where they died. Many became playground equipment for children, some still drivable were used to drive through the woods until they finally gave up. A toy such as this required no lights and even brakes were optional. These old cars taught many how to drive.

In Savannah, the world changed for us in many ways, most bad. My family lived in Port Wentworth and actually lived in the projects. This was a time before I knew what projects were. The houses were long rows of small brick shanties attached together, streets ran along in front of them, but between them on their backs, ran long dirt alleys. My memories include those alleys always being filled with mud holes filled with water. They were like rivers flowing for blocks and were a source of constant entertainment.

Garbage trucks parted those waters at least a couple times a week and the smell or juice that they dropped into the rivers of mosquito producing stagnant water matter little. In fact, their smell was only slightly worse than the fetid air already thick around the waters. It lasted only seconds, then the truck moved on.

I can remember the two old black gentlemen, who rode on the back of that truck, like it was yesterday. They wore black coveralls, which had started life, gray. Neither had teeth, or at least not enough to notice them as teeth. Both smiled continuously and laughed heartily. They hardly spoke anything resembling the English language and smelled worse than the truck.

None of this mattered to the kids who lived in the projects. These guys were Sanitation Santa’s. They would spend the week collecting abandoned toys and store them in side compartments on the truck. As the truck moved slowly through the projects they would pick up the garbage, all the while distributing smiles and toys to the children following them along, desperate for any good thing they could get. The truck was only slightly less exciting, but much worse smelling than the ice cream truck which cruised the same mud hole every day with its colipie of colorful music.

Not all of those kids could buy ice cream, but all of them got a toy. It was many years before I truly understood what the dozen of kids without ice creams were thinking while they watched the few who had them, eat them.

I have talked about the teachers and relatives who touch so many and left lifelong impressions without being aware of how much they changed those around them.

How about Katharine? She was an old, black nanny we had when I was young, sure we were white, but our lives were only separated by a thread, which consisted of a little money and a lot of color. She was the best cook and the sweetest person I’ve ever known. I think of her daily. She taught me much more valuable lessons than the gaggle of good ole boys who tried to keep me mired in a belief system left over from the Stone Age.

These two old unassuming garbage collectors influenced several generations of children, possibly providing the only joy they received while young. Did they understand their importance; did they have any clue what prominent examples of kindness they were? Maybe not, but I wish to believe that this was the first secret God whispered to them when they looked into his face for the first time.

Bull Poop Politics

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 09 Sep 2012 18:58:00 +0000

Bull Poop Politics

Last week’s story was about every politician, not any politician in particular. I continue to scream about the political mumbo jumbo and others continue to turn it into partisan poop. I write with a non partisan pen, but others continue to destroy any slight grip on harmony we have and replace it with the ugliest division they can conjure in their smoldering, bubbling cauldrons.

The story was about political spin and those who use it and buy it. It got many comments online, in the many places it appears, but one woman seemed to have less of a clue than most. Her first comment, why do we allow democrats to vote, as all of them are on welfare? This was exactly the Kool Aid drinking attitude I was talking about. With one incredible and definitive statement, she proved she drinks the Kool Aid, the size of her glass and that her lips are red.

I have never been on welfare in my life and have no intentions of trying it. To say such a thing, is to demonstrate the depth of your ignorance or the depth of the ignorance of the person who influences you. You are still drinking Kool Aid created during the division and hatred of our past.

Her next statement shows even less intellect. Obama’s real father was Frank Marshall Davis; she even provided a link to a video which supposedly proved it. The video was removed by its poster, imagine that. I hate it that people will write and speak anything from a position of ignorance, I hate it more that others will actually believe it and sell it as truth. The real problem here, manipulative people write it, then retract it, but not before ignorant people believe it and run with it. Furthermore, the video went on to show Davis as a communist, never mind he was an intelligent, articulate, black man trying to create a better world for his children during the most prejudice and turbulent time in our history.

What if he were a communist when a teenage Barack met him? Must we be held accountable for those we knew as children? My grandfather and father were moonshiners, I dare say everyone in my family made, hauled, drank or lived off the money, moonshine provided. Not only am I, not on welfare, I don’t drink, make moonshine or haul it. Unlike the Kool Aid drinking idiots in this country, I am my own man and make my own decisions.

These seemingly intelligent adults who don’t have a clue about politics and don’t know the difference between certain parts of their anatomy and a hole in the ground would have you believe that Obama grew up as a mixed race child, in the most chaotic and racially biased times, in our history. While doing so he was busy make complex political affiliations with our enemies.

Teenagers look up to anyone who is addressing their particular concerns. Most know as much about politics as, well, someone who would say, all democrats are on welfare. It’s okay to be ignorant at fifteen, that’s why you can’t vote at fifteen. It’s dangerous to be ignorant at thirty or above because there is a twenty percent chance you actually might vote.

Before I go insane listening to the ignorance, let me make one more point. In a speech this week, Paul Ryan said, our country has moved from producing 5 million barrels of crude oil a day to producing 5.5 million a day since 2008, in 2011 our country imported less than half its daily consumption of oil, for the first time.

This should have been an indication of a resounding victory by the Obama administration. Instead, he went on to explain that Obama has fought every effort to drill and discover our own oil and natural gas resources. Further he explained that the high gas prices are entirely the fault of the Obama administration’s tax and environmental policies.

You can’t have it both ways. Either the administration increased production of crude oil by .5 million barrels a day, or they did not. If you’re going to make a generalized derogatory statement, make sure that the sentence just before it doesn’t prove it as total bull poop.

Continuing to say the same things repeatedly, does not make them true, regardless of which party says them. Obama did not create the price of gasoline, start the wars, create the deficit and did not implement the bailout fiasco. Who honestly cares who his father was?

I will go on record here and make a few predictions. In regard to the above matters, it mattered little who won in 2008, it matters little who wins in 2012. Gas prices and the deficit will continue to rise. The government will continue to grow and do stupid poop and both parties will continue to blame it on the other.

Happy Laborless Day

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Mon, 03 Sep 2012 17:08:00 +0000

Happy Laborless Day

It’s called spin and the over five hundred members of congress, the senate, the president and vice president use it generously. It comes from slang used during the fifties, as in, to spin a yarn. Its most clear definition is public relations manipulation, and it has become a code word for propaganda.

Everything we are fed, is filtered through the spin machine, there is no way to determine where truth ends and where the spin begins. I guess on Labor Day, we should be glad our politicians have created a few new jobs. Including spin doctors and those on the spin control patrol.

I’m certainly glad to have a job, but just because I continue to care about those who don’t, does not mean I must leave the country. Does it? I get so sick of those who continue to drink the partisan Kool Aid, saying, if you don’t like it leave it. I love it, I respect it, but it is my duty to change it, not buy every piece of political spin, those running for office, spit out.

Let’s talk about Labor Day. Do you know the truth behind Labor Day? Labor Day was created to appease the unionists of the late eighteen hundreds. The official decree said it recognized those workers whose efforts contributed to the nation.

The reality, the government sent in thousands of soldiers and US Marshalls, to break up a strike by Pullman workers in 1894, killing many. The national holiday was hurriedly put in place, to pacify those strikers. What were they striking against? The Pullman Company was their employer and their landlord. Wages continued to drop, and the workers could no longer pay the landlords.

Statistics can be bent and reshaped to support any view. Many are used to justify government activity or more aptly government inactivity. The national rate of unemployment is 8.3 percent. Am I wrong, there are more than 8.3 percent of those I know, out of work?

In fact, Labor Day is mostly a holiday for government employees. Today there will be cook out all across our great land; don’t let it bother you that many will be eating crackers with packets of catsup, mayo, mustard or jelly spread on them. Think of all the jobless. Do you think they understand the true meaning of this holiday? Think of those who actually keep the country running. The average American is working today. I have worked every Labor Day and have always found that ironic. The average American cannot afford to take this day off and jeopardizes his job if he dares to.

Our government continues to pass laws which give tax breaks to our largest companies, who then after taking those tax breaks, move out of the country anyway. Meanwhile, our small business owners do not get those breaks and actually create the most jobs and activity in our economy. They being strangles to death by the large corporations our government continues to support. The crazy part of this, those small business owners continue to support their Kool Aid carrying leaders because they support business. They do, just not small business, small businesses are not on the radar enough to have any effect on the policies that are destroying them.

Corporations continue to lobby successfully to erode our rights, our rights being the only pesky problems that stand in their or our government’s way. With the instituting of, At Will States, which are spreading, companies, can now treat their employees with any degree of maltreatment they see fit. The American worker now has no protection against unfair treatment. There was a time when unions were not needed, when companies treated their workers and families with respect, out of a sense of fairness. That fairness has long ago disappeared. By the way, statistics say that corporate profit margins are at an all time high.

So as you celebrate today, however you can, don’t worry. Those same statistics say that there are only ten homeless people and that most of them are homeless by choice. There are extremely few kids being abused, and most of those are running into the fists of their abusers from pure stupidity. The five children who are beaten to death each day are merely committing suicide by fist. The wars on drugs and terror are working, and the police and the prison systems are there for our protection.

Get over the Kool Aid laced presidential elections, the president makes little difference. Quit fighting about stupid, partisan politics and elect some congressmen and senators who will do their jobs, not live as royalty. If over five hundred of the most educated people in the country, with billions of dollars at their disposal, can’t balance the budget or eliminate the deficit, they don’t want to. Give them a taste of our new employment reality in America, fire them and find someone who can.

What Ya Gonna Do

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Fri, 31 Aug 2012 21:27:00 +0000

I grew up in a situation where you were required to know the whereabouts of any police officer in the immediate area. By the time, I was thirteen I could steal any car on the road, by the time I was five I could smell a cop from fifteen miles away and could see one for at least a mile. If you grow up in the right or wrong situation, you learn to keep track of them.

As I became a man I followed the straight and true, but never entirely lost this old habit. I have had an unhealthy awareness of the cops all my life. I have done nothing wrong for many years, but just let a cop slip in behind me. I’m as nervous as a politician who looks in the mirror and sees a polygraph machine following too closely, or a pig who suddenly becomes Jimmy Dean aware.

This used to be easy, remember when the citizens outnumbered the police? Okay I’m kidding, there are only about 800,000 in the country, but it’s hard to keep track of all of them. Even the Army only has a little over 500, 000 soldiers to police then entire world. I’m certainly not picking on the police, just those who control them, the politicians and the insurance companies who pull the politicians strings.

Be that as it may, you bet I get nervous when a cop gets behind me, after all, he has a gun, and I don’t. The police are so thick in Miami Beach that when you read the newspaper, there is one standing behind you reading it too. The citizens have circled the wagons and the Police have them surrounded. If your wife passes gas, a bush to your left might give her a ticket, more than likely they’ll give you one. Women are allowed to pass gas, but men are not allowed to be in their company when they do.

As if this isn’t bad enough, in Miami Beach you also have Tremont Towing and the reality show, South Beach Tow. Add to the cops a group of enthusiastic wrecker drivers who are backed by the cops and being filmed taking every car they can get their hands on and you are simply a little fishy in a big pond of fishes.

For some reason, others can park in the streets and totally block traffic while they eat a chicken sandwich or talk on the phone, I see it every day, but yours truly better not hesitate at a red light. I am beginning to think that Miami Beach has assigned me a personal officer and tow truck driver. If you run in to get a fourteen dollar yogurt, which is another story altogether, it might cost you an additional two hundred and seventy five bucks. After all the wrecker driver, the owner of the company, the cameraman, the rest of the film crew, the television network and millions of Americans have a vested interest in your car getting towed. What chance does an average American have in such situations?

How about the show Cops? Millions of Americans are sitting on the edge of their recliners with a beer in one hand and a bag of Doritos in the other hoping you are going to do some stupid stuff. I know the guy who is running from the cops on the intro of the show. It’s his only claim to fame, he brags about it when he is drunk, which is all the time. Of course, he has no teeth because just after the part you see, he fell off of a concrete embankment and knocked them all out. It was too graphic for television. I don’t want to be the bad boy guy, and If I were, I wouldn’t be bragging about it.

So if you get pulled over, and the cop has a film crew with him, you are in trouble. All those Americans are sitting there hanging on your every move. They do stupid stuff on a regular basis, but for some reason, it’s funnier when you do it. There is nothing more entertaining than to sit and slurp a few beers and watch people do things more stupid than the things you do. You have little chance when half of the country is rooting for you to get out of the car dressed in a pink tutu and try to explain you were on the way, to get diapers and bread.

Be careful where your wife passes gas, don’t park your car anywhere convenient, because anywhere convention is illegal and if you get pulled over by a film crew with a badge, understand you are about to do something incredibly stupid, there are just too many people rooting for and cheering you on. We Americans always seem to live up to others expectations, it’s what we do.

Well, If Sara Thinks So

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 12 Aug 2012 20:08:00 +0000

After a day of silence, Sara Palin chimed in on Romney’s VP candidate, Paul Ryan. Man was I relieved, I had no idea what decision to make without her one and a half cents worth. In her statement, she mentioned Mitt and Paul three times, but mentioned Obama over twenty. She went on to point out California, as all that is wrong with America; she is probably uninvited to California, which might prove there may be hope for the state, after all.

She blamed our debt and deficit on Obama even though both have been problems since long before his questionable birth. She, in fact, contradicted herself by pointing out just how long they’ve been problems and blaming them on him in the same sentence. Sara is a perfect example of what we don’t need. She is not a Republican, but rather an anti-Democrat. What we don’t need is an anti anything. Anti’s are the reasons why we have such a stalemate now.

Fight the fight and win or lose, but if you lose, revert to being an American and help push the bus, don’t lie in front of it. As near as I can tell, she is merely mad because Americans did not vote her in as prom queen.

Being the Vice President actually comes down to one crucial thing, what happens if the President dies? The VP candidate is as important as the presidential candidate. I have spent several hours researching Paul to begin the decision process about who to vote for. No matter what any of you think, you cannot vote for R&R simply because of the party they represent. This is another big problem with DC, partisan politics continues to place people in office who don’t belong there. With enough money, anyone can become the proverbial fox in the hen house and let’s face it America is one extremely big hen house.

Paul seems to be a good ole boy and I mean that in a good sense, not as in the entrenched corrupted good ole boy system of the past. He appears to have worked hard, then paid for and received an excellent education. He takes care of himself and his family and can hunt, fish and trap anything. He is an avid outdoorsman, who might at least give the environment a fighting chance, under a Romney administration, it might not have otherwise. Places like the Kitty Kat Club and CyberDatingToRuinAMarriage. Com do not come up when you google him. Hey and there is no question he never worked at Bain.

As the Chairman of the House Budget Committee, he had already introduced two budget proposals; the first was shot down like a fighter pilot from Sara Palin’s fictional communist country of California. The second was met with better enthusiasm, proving he can take a lickin and keep on tickin. If you are going to be a politician in DC, you better be ready for disappointment, after all we the people are used to it and are preparing for more of it.

I guess the key question is. How long will it take Washington and the political meat grinder to transform the all American boy into the rubber stamp thumping self important, self serving politician we all have come to know and loath?

It seems that the only way to have a snowballs chance in politics, in America, is to have a Lawyer in the woodpile. Paul covers this essential qualification also, his father having been one and his wife currently being one. I won’t hold that against him and please, no letters; it was simply a very slight and not so good lawyer joke. Right now the lawyers in his background are the only sign of skeletons in his closet, which ain’t too bad. Of course, it is the duty of the Democrats, as it would be the Republicans if the tables were turned, to find out if he had an affair with the babysitter’s, cousin’s, mother’s, illegal maid. Or to find out if he pulled the wings off of flies or painted innocent puppies with stolen lipstick when he was young, oh crap that was me. At the moment, Paul Ryan looks like a decent pick and has already been voted as prom king once, of course he was also voted biggest brown noser.

I’m still not too sure about his running mate, as I’m of the opinion that most in Washington do not truly represent us average Americans. Regardless of what Sara thinks, it matters little who wins as far as the debt and deficit are concerned, both have and will continue to grow. Any person, who promises to stop them, is naive, a fool or simply lying. How can you tell a politician is lying? He is promising to balance the budget, decrease taxes or lessen the size of government.

To Chick Or, Not To Chick

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 05 Aug 2012 18:04:00 +0000

To Chick Or, Not To Chick

Kennesaw

I can see a sound tar and feathering is in my immediate future.

When an idiot gets too much attention for his idiocy, he becomes famous, he then believes himself a genius.

I’ve got several friends that are openly gay. They have been the entire time I’ve known them. All are in long term monogamous relationships. Their being gay has no effect on our friendship and never will nor has it had any effect on my eating dry chicken sandwiches. Simply put, I like my friends and don’t like dry chicken. What they do is between them and God, in fact, what any of us do is between us and God, not between us and those who think they speak for God from their small minds.

All this controversy over a dry chicken sandwich seems a little stupid to me. I don’t care much for chicken and care less for a restaurant that decided that I can have chicken or chicken or of course if I don’t like chicken, I can always have chicken. Eat more what? What’s more, not being open on Sundays is a little outdated and will have little to do with who gets into the kingdom. Maybe someone wants a dry chicken sandwich after church. Am I wrong or do Christians eat on Sundays?

In fact, all over the country many church members have one thing in common. After church, they gather to have dinner and talk about their church experience as well as everybody else in the church. Oh sorry, was that a secret? What would all those people do if every restaurant made this highly significant social decision for them? If you own a store and you don’t sell diet Coke, then you don’t care enough to have my business. If you own a restaurant and sell only one thing, like hot dogs or dry chicken sandwiches, you don’t need my business, you already have enough, and besides I can buy a dry chicken sandwich on every corner.

We Christians are no different than everyone else; we are influenced by the idiocy of others. If you need proof, look at the last two decades of presidential campaigns. As further proof look at a preacher who rose to fame in the fifties, he preached small minded messages against every atrocity to include homosexuals, abortions and pretty much anything anyone enjoys. He spent two decades on the pulpit condemning everyone and everything, spewing hate as he thumped the bible.

While sex between unmarried members of his church was forbidden, he was having sex with multiple women and men among his congregation and fathered many children inside the church. He was also arrested for soliciting sex from an undercover male police officer in Los Angeles. Finally, he convinced 909 people to kill each other or themselves. This person was Jim Jones.

I will never understand this kind of blind idiocy, but it continues on smaller scales throughout our country. I ain’t drinking Kool Aid, and no one is telling me what I can or can’t eat on Sunday or who I can or can’t love or marry.

Most people operate from a place of fear. They have the strongest reactions about subjects they don’t understand or are scared of. In fact, most don’t understand that their fears and opinions come from their parent’s lack of understanding or fears. Most people get their small mindedness from the people who they grew up with or those who continue to influence them. You can see their eyes glaze over as they spout bull that has been spoon fed to them. What they say has nothing to do with their own thoughts or opinions. They misquote facts and use wrong words in an attempt to sound informed and intelligent. Then they go to the polls and vote for someone for something as stupid as, does he eat dry chicken sandwiches.

I don’t eat dry chicken sandwiches, and I don’t drink Kool Aid given with quotes from preachers, philosophers or politicians.

I wonder if the people who own this company, ever eat out on Sundays. What do they believe about those who must work on Sundays, to feed their children? I’m just askin. I wonder if they’ve ever heard the verse, It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God" (Matthew 19:24). I’m just sayin!

How about let’s wait and let God decide who gets in and who don’t. How about we give him a little credit and believe he is compassionate and does not make such decisions based on the prejudices of man. It’s what I’ve always chose to believe, and when I arrive at my eventual resting place, I’ll drink any Kool Aid he offers.

God gave man free will, why cannot man leave it at that?

Run Forrest Run

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 29 Jul 2012 19:46:00 +0000

Run Forrest Run

Kennesaw

In Dick Cheney’s book, In My Time, he discusses how hard it is to find a running mate. In fact, he was the person in charge of the committee to sift through the possible candidates. The task was so daunting that he eventually volunteered to take the job himself. It was extremely hard to find someone who could run slowly enough for George Jr. to keep up or who could carry him in a sack race. His book could have been named See Dick and Georgette Run.

What exactly is a running mate? I think George Clooney, John Turturro and Tim Blake Nelson in “O” Brother Where Art Thou, when I think of running mates. IIIIIIII am a man of constant sorrow, holy moly. Ok you may not like it, but that was pretty funny to think about.

In a recent poll, seventy-four percent of registered voters said the choice for who will run as the Veep is one of the most important decisions a potential candidate must make. If you don’t believe this, just ask John McCain or George Sr..

Isn’t the relationship between being able to see Russia from your front door and foreign policy, about like watching House and being able to do complex brain surgery with a bad attitude? Poor ole John’s book could be named, The Gomer Pile Candidate, surprise, surprise, surprise. There were more surprises in that campaign than in all the boxes of Cracker Jacks produced throughout history, and they were worth about as much. George Sr.’s book could have been named, Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader? Imagine how hard it is to run a potato sack race with someone who can’t spell potato.

Actually I will let that joke stand, but must take it back. Dan has gone on to write a nationally syndicated column and had several bestselling books, proving he can, in fact, find and spell potato.

So who will Romney pick as his running mate? He has many choices, and the rumor mill is churning to beat the band. There is Rob Portman, who is known as a boring white guy, not my words. He seems the most likely candidate, but is immersed in the political good ole boys system. This is a highly sought after quality desirable by potential presidents, but the last thing we as Americans need. Don’t we need someone who is a part of the good ole boy American public system?

Bobby Jindel is my pick. He has been referred to as the Doogie Howser candidate; it’s a sight better than the Gomer Pile candidate. He can’t even see Russia from his front door, but if you can deal with the people of Louisiana, you can deal with anyone. That is not an insult, I have friends down there, when they read this they will smile a knowing smile. If you can catch a crawdad or an alligator with a smile on your face, you have some slight chance of surviving in Washington. Mardi Gras might be exactly the kind of foreign policy experience America’s been lacking.

Tim Pawlenty and Mitt seem to be cut from the same bolt of cloth, which may disqualify him. He and Mitt can demean and talk about Obama with equal amounts of venom; America needs less venom, not more, less fighting and more cooperation. The two of them together may, in fact, doom the Republican Party’s chances of making a decent showing. I’m sure he’s qualified; we know he can box and I believe he can do a fair hundred yard dash. Is he ready for the marathon that the 2012 campaign and the following possible presidency will be?

There are a few more, Paul Ryan, Kelly Ayotte and Mario Rubio, most, less qualified than those above. Mitt could always surprise us and pick someone, not on this list. People keep liberally throwing Condolleezza Rice’s name into the mix. She has said she will never run for either the number one or two positions and she is one of the only politicians I actually believe. It’s funny, I would vote for her. It’s my guess she does not want to ruin her good name.

Whoever gets picked better be capable of running like the wind, because the Obama camp, Bain and possibly the law, are going to be on their tail from day one. As I understand it, the fact that Mitt was the Captain and made a ton at Bain is not the issue. The issue is, did he sneak into a lifeboat dressed as a woman before the ship went down. Mitt’s possible book, Run Forrest Run, or Bain Was A Pain.

I said it in 2004 the first time I saw Obama speak, and I’ll say it again now. That my friends is your next president. We may not like it, but It’ my prediction.

Mad People Are At Least Awake

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 22 Jul 2012 21:05:00 +0000

Being a writer is a pretty tough gig. You develop a following as you go along, and the feedback you receive is more a measure of success than the money you receive to do it. However, you need to have skin similar to that of an elephant.

I wrote an entirely humorous piece recently about Polygamy. I expected letters about it, but was shocked that the worst of them came from women. After all, I had made fun of and insulted a system which is degrading to women and the men who perpetrate it.

I was called prejudice and misogynist, I’m not sure this word has anything to do with me, but apparently the woman who penned it, was. I was called sexist and racist, and it was explained to me that my wife is a poor mistreated woman. I’m glad she believes she’s got it good, and she’s glad she is my only wife.

In other stories my writing, spelling, grammar and style were doubted. One commenter said, if the world was going to be hit by a meteor, she would rather die ignorant of that fact, than to find out about it from reading something I wrote.

Whatever happened to good old fashion Don Rickles type insults? I mean if you’re going to insult a person you might as well do it right. No one has said my feet stink or that I don’t love the baby Jesus or worse, the baby Jesus don’t love me. Here is the biggie; no one had talked about my dog or my mother. Seems my detractors have little imagination.

I have been recently asked to do a little political humor, and I have. I’m working my way up to it, but I’ve got distressing news for you, politics ain’t too funny. I am being called a liberal and a conservative so in so, for every piece I write. I don’t mind being a so in so, but I’m having an identity crisis. I don’t understand how this happens, or how to change it. I guess people expect you to come out kicking and screaming against one person or party and hate you if you don’t. I only call em as I see em.

Last month a reader said they hoped no one was paying me to write anything. I felt so ashamed that when the dozen or so checks arrived on the first of the month, I almost tore them up, almost sent them back, not. What I did was, cry all the way to the bank.

As long as there are pen, paper and computers, there will be idiots like me who give their opinions. Don’t take it too personal if I don’t respond to every letter. My opinion of your opinion of my opinion just seems irrelevant, sorry.

Here is the part I love. The typical knee jerk reaction when you say something that makes small mined people mad, If you don’t like America, leave it. I served my Country and have the added qualification of visiting thirty-seven others. I know some are bad, and some are good, but ours, in my opinion, is the best. This knowledge does not relieve me of the responsibility of using my free speech to rectify the ills that continue to multiply in our current political arena.

Our forefathers, stood up, spoke up and acted up to give us the right to do exactly that. How about expanding your ideas of freedom to include things that aren’t spoon fed to the ignorant? How about thinking for yourself and about things that are not all about yourself?

Each election cycle the process becomes more ridiculous or perhaps ludicrous is more apt. Yet each cycle becomes more crucial. I don’t choose the candidate, but I do continue to vote for the lesser of two evils.

Politicians were supposed to be regular Americans, farmers, butchers and Indian Chiefs. Lord don’t get me started on Indian Chiefs. Anyway, those who are allowed to be free were meant to represent us, then return to their farms when their tours were over. Then Cousin Billy Bob could go to Washington and take his turn. Being a politician was never supposed to be a profession.

The change we need is to take the decision of which candidates we get to vote for, away from the parties. Let them pick the candidates, but we should give them the list to choose from. The parties should pick one of the people the American public has already cleared for availability. The problem does not necessarily stem from the presidents, but from those who pick the presidents. The powers that be, have figured out a way to force us to vote for those who they choose. I agree the candidates are different, but they are already chosen for us before we exercise our right to vote.

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Mon, 16 Jul 2012 20:13:00 +0000

Trippin down the reaper's road with the book B4:20

The Warlocks of Washington

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Mon, 16 Jul 2012 20:07:00 +0000

In this corner, the talking head from Chicago, who learned his political licks in the most corrupt city, in America. This head looks amazingly like a peanut when sporting its thinned lipped smile. His repertoire includes bat whiskers, mummified toenails and adder’s tongue.

In the other corner, the talking head from Massachusetts, who learned his political licks in the most liberal state, in America. His head takes on the appearance of a deformed gourd when he speaks. His repertoire includes black cat fat, eye of Newt and henbane.

I defy you to see any difference between them. During the next fifty years, which is how long the campaign will seem to last, us Americans will be bored, mad and utterly confused. We will know less than we do now by the time we vote. Our confidence in our political system will be stretched, as it is every four years. Dropping the same pile of poop repeatedly does not make it true. Forget elephants and donkeys, the truth, the poop smells and looks the same no matter which bull drops it.

Barrack will spin around and bring his wand to the task of destroying the opposing warlock. Poof, a little witches bane about Bain. Ok so Mitt had more money than Solomon. Once you pass 10 million, what does it matter? Doesn’t money kind of become a non issue? Who honestly cares? You can find dirt on all of us, if there is no dirt on you; you aren’t imaginative enough to get into trouble.

Mitt spins, or maybe just his head spins. Pea soup does not spew from his mouth; remember he can afford lobster bisque. Poof, a little eye of Newt mixed with a bad economic record blasts Barack. Good lord, who said Newt is no longer influencing politics? Wait, there has been a good economic period, how did I miss that? The debt grows, our rights shrink and our frustration mounts, but it will always be the fault of the sitting president.

The political party which runs the country continues to divide and conquer. Half of you are giving each other high fives, thinking I’m talking about Republicans. The other half is snickering, and sure I’m talking about the Democrats. I’m talking about the Depublicans or Remocrats. Thanks to Nic from Pinellas Beach, Florida for those words.

As you blame one mudslinging warlock over the other for the coming months, remember the Democrats brought us the welfare state, but the Republicans brought us the IRS long before welfare needed funding. The majority of Americans undoubtedly voted for both.

The Republicans continue to decry all social systems while claiming to be protecting social security. It’s all about votes. Both parties continue to scream, throw tantrums and drop plops of poop about decreasing the size of government. Wake up people, the size of our government will shrink when they pass a decrease in pay, or when pigs fly. American politicians could supply the fertilizer needs of the entire world for the next few months.

As the wands frantically spit and spew and spells are cast, there are real issues being ignored. Why? Because doing anything could be detrimental to campaigning. Here is one of my personal pet peeves. Why do average Americans continue to call the proposed health care systems, socialized medicine? If it were socialized medicine, it would be free. Hello, this is just another example of political parties placing catch phrases and ideas in the heads of the masses. It amounts to, one for you, one for me. Pee Wee Herman should be a politician. “I know you are, but what am I?”

Obamacare and Romneycare are pretty much the same proposal. How can they talk about them? The proposals are hundreds of pages and prepared by dozens of minions. It would take a dozen high powered lawyers’ months to sort it out. It’s best to leave it alone.

I’m not arguing for or against socialized medicine or forced insurance. Although the whole socialized medicine thing, is a smoke screen designed to keep us from noticing we are being driven into the corral of the insurance industry. As all average Americans, I have made the decision many times in my life to survive without health insurance. It’s not hard to decide between five hundred bucks a month and the food it takes to feed your kids. It’s calculated gambling.

Politicians have no clue what this means. Most of them grew up with a silver syringe in their backside and then stepped from college into a place where deciding between health care, dental care and food will never be a necessity.

And these are the people who will decide our fate, marvelous. I don’t know the answer, we need to keep voting, but we as Americans must figure out a way to control the choices we have. We simply keep electing the same persons.

Dependence Day 2012

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Wed, 04 Jul 2012 19:46:00 +0000

Last night we met my wife’s daughter and her friends on Collins Avenue, for a not so good dinner. The company was delightful; but the food was expensive and mediocre. Sounds like our government. Afterward we left Miami Beach, slightly tired, totally sober and dreading the fifty-five minute drive home.

Three and a half hours later we arrived. Now I’m not the brightest bulb in the box, but this extended trip had nothing to do with my inability to find my way home or any kind of time warp thingy. As we arrived on MacArthur Causeway, we were not attacked by zombies, but found ourselves trapped in, bumper to bumper traffic. It only moved at about five miles an hour when it bothered to move at all.

For over two hours, we sat in this traffic and we moved only three miles. I saw two wrecks, and at least thirty cars abandoned on the side of the road. They had probably overheated or simply run out of gas. Ellie Mae, my old car, was running on fumes, and I had an overwhelming desire to take care of that bodily function I should have taken care of before leaving the restaurant. Sorry, I had to do number one.

My wife and I enjoy our time together and spent it looking at cars and talking about what kind we might buy her. There were scattered road construction signs alongside the way, giving the impression this was actually road construction or perhaps a horrific wreck.

At the end, we found a small army of police officers who were converging three lanes down to one, then performing a sobriety check. How many people were late for work, dinners and other engagements? What would have happened if someone had gone into labor or had a heart attack? What if an eyeball eating zombie had decided to go on another rampage?

I know drunk driving is a problem, and I know it needs to be dealt with. Is this the way to do it? Must the freedom of the many, be so trampled, by the lack of responsibility of the few? Is this protect and serve or another example of fund raising in America?

I remember when there actually needed to be probable cause for your car or home to be searched. Now probable cause is more specifically described as prejudice and left up to the discretion of the officer on the scene. Common courtesy is also a thing of the past, as now anyone with a gun or some other form of civil authority can speak to you in any way they choose. Last night was a prime example of guilty until proven innocent.

I’ve been accused recently of complaining, isn’t that what all columnist do? It’s the only way we can shock the masses from their slumbering ignorance. Just because, your rights aren’t being trampled, at the moment, doesn’t mean you’re not next. I was told it serves no purpose to complain if you cannot offer solutions. If I or anyone else knew the answers, there would be no problems. Still, I’ll give it a go.

How about we start a second government, to ride shotgun over the current one? Someone needs to rein them in. Good lord that was a joke and not a particularly pleasant one. How about we destroy all the houses and build enough prisons to house everyone. If they only allow us to get out for work each day in a kind of work release program, just think of how much money could be saved. This would put an end to all our self righteous ideas about the freedom and rights we were born with. It would make things much easier for those redefining the constitution. I dare say we would become fabulous, fast friends with Russia, China, Cuba and those to the far left or right.

We have put man on the moon, how about a car that cannot be driven by a drunk person? We already have those annoying alarms.

“Please step away from the vehicle.” I hate those things. How about an alarm for those who don’t care about their own safety or the safety of others?

“Please step your ignorant, drunk rear end away from the vehicle.”

We have certainly lost so much of our personal freedom and any belief that we can make the simplest decisions on our own, that we won’t mind a car deciding if we are sober or smart enough to drive. You didn’t know I was going to add that smart enough thing in there. This part will keep the ignorant from driving and will bring DC to a standstill. This would be not far removed, from where it has been most of my life.

I’ll always remember where I was on July 4, 2012, I was on MacArthur Causeway celebrating dependence day.

Americanism

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sat, 30 Jun 2012 23:53:00 +0000

As I start this, I know I’ll be accused of supporting one party, in fact, there is only one party. I’ll be called a communist, which I most certainly am not, by people who think exercising free speech, is communism. I’ll get several letters, chock full of political bull, explaining exactly why I’m wrong.

It’s what we do. It’s why the Germans used the Jewish to control and cremate their own people. The oppressors control the oppressed and have throughout history. The government continues to single out and figure out, those who refuse to stop struggling. Why, to impose new, regulations designed to strangle the truth out of those who dare believe in, or support the constitution. During George Junior’s tenure as President, fifty thousand new regulations were added. It takes thousands of people and tax dollars to wade through the stockyard like, smell of it all. The idea seems to be to regulate every breath we take, every move we make. Then they can allow the chosen, to break those regulations while reserving the right to prosecute the rest of us, if we dare to.

Three of my favorite quotes.

“You see, you and I, we believe in life, but you want to fight for it, to kill for it. Even to die… for life. I only want to live it.” Any Rand

"The citizen who thinks he sees that the commonwealth's political clothes are worn out, and yet holds his peace and does not agitate for a new suit, is disloyal, he is a traitor.” Mark Twain

“First they came for the communists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew. Then they came for
me and there was no one left to speak out for me.” Pastor Martin Niemöller

Two things inspired this column. The Miami Heat won the national championship. On Monday, there was a parade in their honor. Traffic was stopped for thirty square miles around the arena. The arena is located at the intersection of several interstates and turnpikes; everything was at a standstill. Any bridge with a view of the arena was covered with stopped cars, bringing the entire city of 5.5 million people to its knees. The people stopped on the bridges of the interstate, prove in some ways, that we are stupid enough to need all the regulations being passed. I’m not condemning what happened, the Heat deserved the parade.

On Tuesday President Obama appeared in Miami Beach at the Fillmore before a crowd of 2300 people. There was no traffic jam, and, in fact, I was a block away and would never have known anything of any consequence was going on, if I hadn’t been paying attention that is. There were more secret service agents and dogs than attendees. As long as the government continues to create endless, useless and mindless laws and regulations, they will continue to be afforded less regard and respect.

The second reason is two e-mails I received from seemingly intelligent and informed friends and family. The first is dozens of, before and after Obama statements. Don’t you read this stuff before you send it? Over half were wrong and I’ll only use the most idiotic one, to make my point. Before Obama, gas $1.61, after Obama, gas $4.85. Am I the only one who remembers $5.00 a gallon gas during the Bush administration?

The other is a cartoon called, Make Mine Freedom, produced in 1948. It features a tall, thin dark person who is trying to shove some form of ism, down the American public’s throats. People are claiming it’s someone’s prediction or warning about Obama. It was written by some highly educated idiot 13 years before Obama was born, give me a break.

There are hundreds of ism’s, some good, some bad and some worse. I’m tired of hearing that the welfare and health care systems belong to one party and equates to socialism. The welfare state was designed by and is a direct expression of, America’s Christian values. We are our brother’s keeper. You cannot continue to preach from one side of your mouth while complaining about programs that help the poor, from the other. You believe, or you don’t, it’s as simple as that.

I, myself believe in Americanism’s like freedom of speech. I will exercise this freedom as long as I am allowed to do so. When someone tries to shove a line of bull poopie down my throat, I will recognize the taste and spit it out. In 1957, in the book, Atlas Shrugged, Any Rand predicted our destination and we have arrived at the exact destination she predicted. Don’t act shocked at what you see, we dreamed and created it.

Plundering in Paris Florida

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 24 Jun 2012 18:07:00 +0000

Plundering in Paris Florida

There seems to be some confusion about Miami Beach, I’m here to clear it up. Miami Beach is a city and an island, off the coast of Florida. South Beach or Sobe is Miami Beach’s beach, AAARRRRGGGG. I’m lost and I’m sitting in Lummus Park with Sobe on one side and Ocean Drive on the other, while writing this. Ocean Drive is the year round Mardi gras which runs for fifteen blocks along Sobe. As if this isn’t enough, the area is known as, the Paris of America. I understand why, it’s similar, but the women wear less clothing and shave their legs and arm pits.

I have been here a short time, but am constantly asked for directions. I’ve had people ask me directions to South Beach while standing on Ocean Drive.

“Walk a hundred yards and you’ll fall into the Atlantic, when you get out, you’ll have magically arrived on South Beach.”

I’ve had people ask me where Miami Beach is, while standing on South Beach in the city of Miami Beach.

“Sorry man you got off the plane at the wrong stop, Miami Beach is in St. Augustine.”

Look it’s easy really, just fly into Miami, get into a cab, mumble Ocean Drive, the cab driver is going to ask, AARRGG, what’s in your wallet, and he’s gonna expect a large portion of whatever is. Go into Wet Willie’s and order a drink they call, call-a-cab and you’ll forget to remember where you are, at all. You’ll have a great vacation, but will have a terrible time explaining exactly where you went. That last thing is going to happen if you drink or not, might as well have fun.

“I woke up with receipts in my wallet from bars on South beach, Miami Beach and Ocean Drive; I guess I went to all three places. I had a great time, I think.”

If it can been seen, it can be seen on Ocean Drive. Here you will find some of the most beautiful and not so beautiful people in the world. Like dancing bikini guy, just imagine Newt Gingrich belly dancing on the sidewalk in a bikini and you pretty much have the sick, twisted picture. He’s a fixture and has been dancing on Ocean Drive for years. Dust puffs from his thong as he undulates, but people throw him money, and he makes more than most of us, ever will.

On Ocean Drive you can sit in a five star restaurant, have steak and lobster, drink a drink named lobotomy and watch the beach and beach volley ball, all at the same time. Remember those one piece bathing suits of the twenties that caused such a scandal? Yeah, then the bikini was invented, life is good. Then came the thong, bar napkins actually contain more cloth. They cost so much, that here, you must buy a bikini in sections, fifty bucks for each piece. Back in the day, girls or guys wearing thongs would have been burned as witches. While nude sun bathing is illegal, the cops figuratively not literally look the other way, it’s pretty common.

If you’re lucky, while having a lobotomy or calling a cab, the stars, moons, and planets will align, and you’ll get to see all three, at one time. Don’t try to imagine topless beach volley ball, no good can come from it. Ocean Drive is much like visiting the Zoo, there are amazing, exotic, wild animals of every shape, size, color and gender. You don’t walk along and wonder at the caged animals, but get to become one of them, if you dare. I imagine that’s what happened to dancin bikini guy, he probably came here from Minnesota, bought a call-a-cab, a bikini and then forgot to remember, to go back to Deer Park Minnesota.

It’s crazy to see entire families visiting South Beach. I’m sure there are things for the kiddies to do, not. The young girls are probably frightened and keep running into poles while holding their hands over their eyes. The young boy’s eyes are as big as saucers, but they too keep running into poles. Young minds can only take so much sensory impute. Both are probably terrified and scared for life, by the experience. However both will probably come back as soon as possible, without their parents for spring break, sometime in the future.

All my life I believed what Buffett said, but have found out he was wrong. There is plenty to plunder, the cannons still thunder and you can never arrive too late on Ocean Drive. Watch out what the kiddies might see, thar be pirate booty a plenty, by the sea for thee. My first mate and I love Florida, today’s column brought to you from Miami Beach, Sobe, Ocean drive and Paris, all at the same time. Life is soooooooooooo good.

Polygamy is Having a Dream About Nightmares

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 17 Jun 2012 16:05:00 +0000

I wish society would quite drawing those pesky lines in the sand, because I continue to, inadvertently cross them. Telling it like it is, is the quickest way to get divorced, arrested, shot, maimed or to doom a presidential campaign. People scream for the truth, demand it, but the truth is!!! “You can’t handle the truth.” Jack Nicholson

There comes a time in every red blooded American male’s life when he realizes that the little boy next to him in the sand box is, in fact, a girl. At that point toy cars, baseball card and frogs take a backseat. He knows little about them and wants to know more. I could talk about how much he wants to love and cherish them, how much he wants to buy them a BMW or a charming little house in the burbs, but this is about truth, remember. He’s thinking huuummm how do I get me one of those. He’s contemplating the secrets of life, like how to undo a bra clasp.

He’s heard they are different, and he wants to find out how and why, first hand. The only information he has so far, has been gathered from boys on the playground who know less than he does, older brothers, cousins and uncles. More than likely all of it is wrong. He looks at her and dreams of a world without clothing. She looks at him and dreams of a world where boys wash their hands after wiping their noses.

Somewhere along here a boy first hears the word polygamy. Once he understands its meaning, well, first his eyebrows raise, he thinks huuuummmm again, boys are deep thinkers. He can’t sleep for a week, and he immediately shifts from trying to select one perfect specimen to imagining being allowed to select four. If the road to truth is too much, turn around now. He is not thinking about commitment or relationships, but has taken the world without clothing thing to a new level in his imagination. He now hates Eve for the apple and fig leaf.

Most boys grow out of this, some never do. After all, the Bible says it’s Ok, they point out. There are numerous arguments designed to convince women, it’s advantageous for them. Women will believe anything, Hugh Hefner, O.J. Simpson and that book about Mars and Venus prove it. I’ll say it if no one else will. Polygamy is a playground in the minds of adolescent males, Sheiks and Zealots.

Don’t kill the messenger; remember this bubbled up in the dubious mind of a male. Ladies feel free to comment from the female perspective as there are likely more reasons to, not marry more than one man than they are to, not marry more than one woman.

I love my wife with all my heart, but can’t imagine have three more of her. When you get over imagining a world without clothing and the possible benefits of such a world, reality sinks in. They do not make houses with enough bathrooms to accommodate four wives. They do not make bathroom counters or cabinets with enough space to allow the hairbrushes, such an arrangement would require, to live the kind of lifestyle they deserve.

Your house would need to contain four bedrooms, four bathrooms and at least seven closets and we must not forget, room for a comfortable couch. The reason such situations are generally reserved for Sheiks and the like, the average man, could never afford the toilet paper. There would be so many creams, lotions, paints, pastes and hair products the house would be classified as a bio hazard area. Dealing with one woman who has two hundred shoes, hairbrushes and personalities is hard enough, multiply that by four. Imagine menopause as all of them reach the age where they alternately burst into flames, their heads spin around backward, and they develop seven new personalities, all of which hate you.

I expect headaches are contagious. If you make one mad, do you think the others will be happy that you stayed out all night playing cards? You my friend are sleeping on the couch. You will eat breakfast with four sets of daggers, formally known as eyes, silently burning holes through you. The silent treatment will be deafening.

You might imagine not getting much sleep and all the exciting reasons for it. It might be true in the beginning, but eventually you’ll sleep with one eye open from fear. Sleeping in one house with four women, twelve kids, four bathrooms, PMS, PTA, twenty knives and a poor economy is the stuff of nightmares. Bet you didn’t consider that at twelve.

I love my wife, all twelve of her, and I can’t imagine having thirty-six more of them. That is the single most confusing sentence I’ve ever written and the most mind boggling idea I’ve ever had.

Kennesaw on facebook

Freaky Feline Folks

noreply@blogger.com (Kennesaw) — Sun, 10 Jun 2012 16:16:00 +0000

Good, gracious granny, don’t get yer bloomers in a bunch until you read it all. Let me start by saying I like cats. That statement and the fact that no one knows where I live might save me. How about this statement? No cats, PETA members or Vegans, were hurt during the writing of this piece. I’m afraid that made it worse. I know I’m treading in dangerous water, so it’s best to make my case and get it over with. I love cats and Vegetarians, they taste like chicken. The truth, I don’t like chicken.

There is a house on Star Island in Miami referred to as the Cat house. It is located two doors down from the 58 million dollar home of Doctor Phillip Frost and is worth about 22 million itself. I cannot for the life of me find out who the cat lady was or when exactly she died. I did, however, find a classified ad looking for people who love cats and who have impeccable references. The Crazy Cat Lady left her estate to her cats. Rumor is that 14 to 20 cats live in the lap of luxury at her estate and will continue to do so until they all die. Did this woman have kids? How do they feel about this?

Talk about going postal and having a valid reason to do so. Imagine waiting on cats day and night for minimum wage. Imagine watching your own children struggle with life, love and their education, while pampering a bunch of cats that have a better house, better food and possibly better heath care. The world is insane. I believe that someone must have dropped this Lady on her head as a child.

Alright now, let’s take a look at the stereotypical Crazy Cat Lady, sorry person. He or she must be near or above middle age and have very few friends. Their family must only talk to them out of an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. They must have given up totality on the idea of ever finding Mr. or Mrs. Left, much less right. They must be able to carry on a conversation with any unsuspecting person who might wander into their house. All the while, keeping a straight face as the innocent person turns green from the smell of cat urine and other things we can’t mention here. Traveling salesmen, members of religious originations, census worker, social workers and people who work for charities, all fall into this list of unfortunate souls and are always welcomed at the Crazy Cat Persons house.

If you sell brushes, knives or vacuum cleaners and the door is opened wide when you knock. You are at the Munster’s or Adam’s family’s door, or in the movie Wrong Turn, worse you might be entering the house of a Crazy Cat Person. Your eyes will water, your nose hairs are about to be melted, and your nostrils are going to be assaulted like never before.

Did you know that John Lennon once referred to himself as The Crazy Cat Lady in disguise? He loved cats, his first was named Elvis. He once owned ten at one time and had one named Jesus. His favorite cat Alice quite by accident jumped from the window of their high-rise apartment and used up all her lives at one time. She died on the same sidewalk he would later die on. His son Sean said that the day of Alice’s death, was the only time he ever witnessed his father cry.

Recently federal charges were filed against the museum dedicated to Ernest Hemingway on Key West. In 1935, he was given a six toed cat by a sea Captain friend. He loved his cats so much that when he died he made provisions for them in his will. They will be cared for until the last one dies. At present there are somewhere near sixty living in the museum.

The six and seven toed cats, known as Hemingway’s cat are not actually a breed, but are genetically deformed. The US Department of Agriculture has decided that the museum no longer represents one of our most beloved writers, but has become a cat exhibition. What do they want? To impose regulations and charge fees. What else?

A Vet visits each year to administer shots. They say it’s hard to get all of them, as once you pop one, he tells the rest and so on. By the time you get to the last ones, they’re nowhere to be found.

Don’t confuse cat hoarders with those above. Animal Hording is a mental illness which is bad for the animals and people involved. The above people simply love cats. When I look in the mirror, I see The Crazy Cat Lady hiding inside me. I love cats and have cried at a few cat funerals. I dare say I will again.