I am going to form the committee to put Donald Trump on

Mount Rushmore.

Sign here in the comments section below. You don't even have to use your real name.

I know this is not going to go anywhere but just the very thought of it will drive the SJWs stark staring bonkers.

All it will take is to get a rumor started and with luck it will snowball.

Right after Trump got elected I told a couple of college kid SJWs that the instant Trump took the oath he was going to evict the aliens out of Area 51 and they took the bait so it is possible some of these morons will go ape shit if we can get this rolling as a rumor.

Why not?

Anything to see an epic SJW meltdown.

OMG! They want to put Donald Trump on Mount Rushmore! They can't do that! Followed by much moaning, wailing and gnashing of teeth.



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Let's see,now.

I need the trash guy. I need the auto mechanic, the plumber, the sewer worker, the farmer, the policeman, fireman, doctor, tree surgeon,  nurse, engineer, carpenter, mason, sales clerk ad nauseum to make my life.run smoothly.

One thing I do not need are entertainers. 

For that matter I have never heard an injured GI shout, "Rock star up!" They always shout for a medic or a corpsman. This makes a lot of sense.

Grace Slick or George Clooney really isn't going to do a wounded GI a whole lot of good. Then again, to be fair about it, I bet Charlie Daniels or Gary Sinise would sure as hell give it the old college try.

Cher, Rosie, Georgie Porgy Clooney and the rest of you trained monkeys please just shut up and dance for us.




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Someone suggested that maybe I will live practically forever

which was a kind thought on the part of one of my younger relatives.

He said maybe I would hang in there like Keith Richards.

I sort of doubt it, though because I have a break in service so to speak when I stopped smoking a few years back and cut down on my drinking.

If something like that is going to happen to me then I am going to have to start smoking like a chimney and start doing some serious drinking on regular basis.

The paradox here is I stopped doing that so I could live a little longer. Maybe the fact that I stopped is not going to help or even make things worse.

Who knows?





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I hate being in New York City

Yes.

It really is that simple. I hate New York City and practically everything about it.




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I see more and more ink on people

and I find it odd.

I am a libertarian. Ink yourself all you want. it doesn't hurt me or cost me anything.

Tattooing used to be somewhat restricted to sailors, bikers, convicts, and Foreign Legionnaires. I suppose military guys sometimes got one or maybe two service related tattoos, mainly sailors or Marines or Army paratroopers.

Now I see teenagers and grandmothers with full sleeves.

You used to have to wait until the circus was in town and go into a sideshow and pay to see a fat, bearded tattooed lady.


Now you can see all you want for free at Walmart.

As a sailor I considered getting an Old School Sailor Jerry mermaid on my left bicep but it's gotten too mainstream these days so forget it.

One thing I will comment is that this seems to be yet one more of those things people do to be different and by doing so they become mainstream.




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My guess with why Trump held back.

was like he said, we are not likely to go to war over a drone.

Frankly I think that the DoD people are not as honest as they should be to the president. I would not put it past the swamp dwellers there to outright lie to the President to set him up for a failure.

My guess is the last minute casualty estimate was given to him casually and he stopped and decided he didn't want to take the bait.

"Nah, I don't really want that worm."

Yeah, in this case, Mr. President take the advice of Putin. Let the UN investigate and if it's found the drone actually was in Iranian territory then start looking at your DoD people.

Start with those hired by Obama.

This may very well be a trap laid by him. If it is, sic the DOJ on them. If you can trace it back to Obama that would make him guilty of treason.

The other person you ought to go after is John Kerry. He just left Iran and had a nice little chat with them. Does the name Logan act ring a bell? 

This may sound a little far fetched but the older I get the less stuff like this would surprise me.

Update.

I have had several back channel email discussions and one theory is Trump figured out the intelligence was bad and was being led into a trap by the swamp dwellers and/or Democrats.

He didn't take the bait.

Another is that the targets were leaked to the Iranians and it was likely that our guys would have lost the element of surprise and become casualties.

There are a couple theories over who leaked it. One of our guys or maybe a country we tipped off to be able to stay out of it. Either is a bad deal.

Sad as it is, any of this is credible. It's pretty sad when stuff like this is so believable. What else is believable is that Obama and/or Hillary may have laid out the groundwork.

I seriously believe that Pelosi, Obama, Hillary hate Trump so much that they would cheerfully let 10,000 GIs die just to get rid of him. I have never seen so much hate directed at a POTUS in my life.

That in itself is more than enough reason to support him in 2020.






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I am out a laptop and I suppose I should have had a spare parked at work

but that's too risky because someone could probably steal it and hack into it password protected or not.

Time for me to dig around and try find another deal on a used Toughbook.

Maybe I should get a newer one like, say a CF-52 or something along those lines. Anyone out there got an idea?

Anyway, it's a bitch using a Kindle.




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Pressed for time. I borrowed a laptop for a few and

Am cranking out whatever I can in short order and will post through the Kindle.

There is a trade-off with doing things electronically from home and the old fashioned way. I renewed my vehicle registration electronically and they sent my new registration for me to print.

All of this is fine and dandy if everything goes OK but the problem generally lies with the family printer which in my case doesn't get used enough so the ink cartridges dry out.

This is one case where I probably would have been better off filling the application out and simply tossing it in the mail instead of going to the library and going through the rigamarole there even though the copies are only a few cents. 

I'm really not in to much of a hurry and it would have actually been easier because the new registration would have arrived in the mail with the bills and junk.


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well, this sucks

My laptop is shot so I am using a Kindle and a mini keyboard I can not type on for sour apples.

It is going to be a while before one of two things happens. I will either get used to this or I will be carted off to the booby hatch.
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Going to be slow for a wwhile

Posting on a Kindle. Laptop broke.

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I just made a suggestion to a young man that is just finishing up auto mechanics school.

I told him that once he gets some experience he ought to open up a shop and gear it towards senior citizens...if he has the patience.

There is an old line about a car being pre owned by a little old lady that took it to church but the reality of this is often these are the worst cars you can buy because little old ladies don't understand maintenance. Pull the dipstick out of many of them and you are likely to find asphalt instead of oil. A lot of them simply forget to change it periodically. The unwittingly just keep running them until it breaks down.

A sharp mechanic could probably build up quite a clientele if he is willing to be fair and above all, honest. If he gets greedy and/or dishonest then word will get out on him in a heartbeat.

On the other hand, if he's a straight shooter then business ought to be pretty good.

He is going to have to be willing to explain things to people and point things out to people. He has to be a people person and be willing to show some initiative. He might have to put some of his clientele on a schedule and contact them. "Hey, Mr. Smith. Bring it in for a checkup. You probably need an oil change." sort of thing.

While he has it up on the rack or has the hood open he should check things out and pass word on to the customer. "Hey, you got a CV joint boot getting soft. It's probably OK for now but next checkup it ought to be replaced." or "Those brake pads are starting to show signs of wear. Might want to change them soon before you ruin the rotors." sort of thing.

It could be a pretty good way to make a living if you are good with people and are a good mechanic.

The object, of course, is to work with the customer be helpful and make sure they stay on the road safely.

If you do this you can probably make a few bucks and become a respected part of the neighborhood.

********************

I made another suggestion to a sharp kid headed to college.

Go into tattoo removal.

In a few years there is going to be one hell of a demand for it.




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Back in the day I dated a couple of women that were a lot

taller than me. I think I peaked out a little over 5'6" and I know I'm probably about 5'4" now. We shrink with age.

But still, at the height of 5'6" I was shorter than average.

A briefly dated a couple of much taller woman, one was at least 6' tall, the other two were pretty close. It didn't bother me a bit, in fact I rather enjoyed escorting a much taller woman as I have a twisted sister sense of life, anyway. If I recall, two of them asked me if it bothered me. I think the others I dated simply knew I didn't care.

"No, it doesn't," I replied. "and I don't want you to hunch over, either and when we go anywhere I'd like it if you wore heels."

One of them was really comfortable to hang out with because she had an outrageous sense of humor and was as close to embarrass proof as any woman I have ever met. We did some outrageous things together.

The one that was a full six feet barefooted was built like Jessica Rabbit and a couple of times we went out she wore a pour me into this, please, really sexy outfit with four inch heels. We looked rather funny together. The honey hormone squash amazon well over six feet tall with a short, stocky somewhat scruffy fisherman.

She wore that outfit with me the night of the Great White Shark Hunt which was a truly wild event that almost saw my running partner shot for reasons I won't get into here. At one point there were eight or ten of us in various states of dress, undress and overdress.

I was wearing a double breasted white linen suit topped with a huge Panama hat and looked like a government assigned diplomat to the Philippines or somewhere.

That night one woman commented that my date was a foot taller than I was. I pulled my date close to me, looked at the woman and said, "I'm gonna marry her and take her back to the farm so I have someone to love, milk and plow."

Of course everyone within earshot reacted differently. Some cringed, expecting to see me slapped silly by my date. Others, including my date, outright laughed like hell. The woman that had commented about our differences in height turned purple. 

Of course, the incident made the rounds of the bars and for a few days I had several drinks bought for me from those that were amused.

I won't get into the details about much of the shark hunt night. Some of us are still alive and it could embarrass them.

I guess I wrote this post to tell some of you younger guys that a woman's height means nothing. 

If she is interesting and intelligent, ask her out. If she seems to have a problem with your height, it's on her. She's the one with the problem, not you and she's already outed herself as being self conscious and is probably not worth going out with.

   










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One of the things I have noticed is that

most of the people that support socialism are not very successful to begin with.

This is not to say they are not educated. Many of these people do have college degrees. For the most part these degrees are pretty useless, though. Like the philosophy major you find working at Starbucks.

A while back at a fast foods joint I spoke with a young lady taking her break. She was in a community college learning to weld. Her plan was to work in the manufacturing sector. She told me there are a lot of small parts needing to be welded and that women are preferred because they have smaller (and presumably more nimble) fingers.

She was not a socialist. She actually had her head screwed on. 

"After high school I looked at myself. I had no skills and my boobs were to small to be a decent stripper," she said. I was lucky I wasn't drinking my coffee. It would have come shooting out my nose. She had a pretty good sense of humor.

Still, she had a plan and was working it. Presumably today she's making a decent paycheck welding sub assemblies at the Frammis factory somewhere. Betcha she's still a capitalist at heart.

Still,  socialism seems to be the refuge of someone that has had a history of making bad choices in life. They feel they can't compete and are trying to drag everyone down to their level instead of elevating themselves.

It's hard having to admit to yourself that getting a degree in philosophy or dance studies was a stupid waste of time and money. It really is. It's a lot easier to demand that someone else take care of you and blaming others for your bad choice.

Successful people as a general rule abhor socialism. They have been successful and are enjoying the rewards of their success and don't want to be dragged down. They didn't work at getting a marketable skill and making a decent living to be forced to give a large chunk of it for the government to hand it to someone that was too lazy and/or stupid to make themselves marketable.

If you take the time to look around and look at those that seem to find socialism a good deal you can generally find they are people  that are unsuccessful.








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One of the things I have noticed about the Trump tax cut snivelers

is they moan about how the corporations have gotten a tax break and how unfair it is because corporations are not people and people come first.

People scream that the corporations got a bigger tax break than the corporations did but they are, as usual, not thinking beyond their noses.

The tax breaks enabled corporations to bring jobs back into the States. Jobs. You know what jobs are? Perhaps you might even have one. You might even have one that Trump's tax breaks creates.

Say what you will, but if you look at minority unemployment rates these days which happen to be at an all time low, you will see that the economy is improving tremendously.

Some of this was because some corporations brought the jobs back to the States or simply changed their mind about moving out of the country to manufacture things.

The tax breaks worked.

Besides, you got a few bucks in your pocket that you didn't have  so don't talk with your mouth full.


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"Did you eat today?" asked Blaine.

Kodiak in the early 80s was a strange place.

A long dead friend of mine would often greet each other with that question. The one that asked it had money in his pocket.

If I was flush I would ask him and if he had money he would ask me.

If I had eaten I would say I had so as not to take advantage of him. If I had cash in my pocket I would simply say I was OK.

He did the same thing. This lasted for a couple of years until Blaine moved back to New Jersey where he was later killed in a skiff accident off the Jersey coast. Shortly after I heard about his death I returned the Zippo he had given me by committing it to the deep near where he was killed.

It was an interesting way to live and was pretty unique that two guys would meet and ask each other that but the reason was that while both of us had employment of sorts, our incomes sort of staggered. While he was pretty much strictly a fisherman, I was a fisherman/carpenter.

We never knew when we were going to be getting paid and how much. We sort of ganged up on the outside world and took care of one another.

Sometimes the "Did you eat today?" didn't mean we were going into Solly's Office for a burger. It often meant we were inviting each other over to dinner. 

The paradox of being invited to dinner is that when we were broke we had to settle for King Crab which we caught off the fuel dock or venison that one of us shot. I generally was the deerslayer because I had a friend that would let me use the freezer for a cut of the venison. Other times it was halibut, salmon or occasionally duck.

Almost forty years later it is strange to look at the way things were back then but I would not have missed it for the world. 

Sometimes people don't know when it doesn't get any better

Back around Y2K I bought my first new vehicle, a Tacoma pickup. I won't get into the details but at the time it cost me about $11,400 out the door.

I ran the living hell out of it and by 2009 I had 170,000 miles on it. That comes to nearly 19,000 miles/year!

I only had to put an alternator and a couple of brake jobs into it. It even had the original clutch and water pump in it when I got rid of it.

By 2009 the frame rusted out and the Toyota recall bought it back from me for about $7500! 

Let's do the math. the truck itself cost me $3900 to own for nine years. That's about $433/year for a reliable pickup.

It doesn't get any better than that! You can't lease or otherwise get a reliable pickup for $433/year. It just doesn't happen.

Yet someone tried to tell me I got ripped off.

Go figure.









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Someone asked me how it was back in my day.

I told him you would have to go to the circus and pay to see tattooed bearded fat ladies.

Now all you have to do is go to Walmart.



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I have noticed that an awful lot of places these days accept only on line applications.

Being the skullduggerous mischief maker I am I have half or even three quarters of a mind to go to an Amish store and buy an Amish pair of pants, shirt and hat and go and apply in person to some of these places.

While the Amish generally hire each other and keep the money flowing through their community, I know of no rule that keeps Dutchmen from working in the English community, even though I have never seen a Dutchman working in an English run business.

I suppose I don't have to explain that the Amish have no access to the web. 

It would be a hoot watching the person at, say Homeless Depot having to deal with a Dutchman explaining that he wants a job there but has in access to the internet.

It could be a pretty good way to make a few bucks by taking a video of it. I'm sure it would be hilarious. 

Off too the Amish hardware store!

Smile! You're on Candid Camera!







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In the service the thing I hated most of all was being in parades.

I would cash in just about every favor I was owed just to skin out of being in a damned parade.

It didn't happen often, but when it did I went straight into overdrive to find a way out of it, short of AWOL.

One time I went in to see the First Sergeant and asked if I could pull the three day pass I had riding on the books. Some colonel was retiring and we were told to supply the people for the retirement parade.

He said no.

Then I asked if I could take leave. I had about fifty days accrued and I figured I could take a couple of leave days.

Nope.

Then Top looked at me and said, "I can think of one way I can get you out of the parade. One of the infantry battalions had leveed us for three forward observers and you are qualified. I was going to dump the whole thing on the survey section but I'll take only two of them if you want to do that instead. You'll be in the field for three or four days."

"I'll take it," I said, leaving the old soldier wide-eyed.

I took the offer, too and at the time I figured that I had made a pretty good deal. 

Actually it was a good deal. The weather was pretty good and the infantry officers didn't bother me and everyone treated me right.




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I think I'll go to Walmart and get a nice, juicy

parking space near the entrance and sit there with my reverse lights on and watch the show.

It doesn't cost a lot to entertain me.



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I sometimes have a bad dream

where I HAVE to go to some kind of uber formal affair like have dinner at the White House or with the Queen of England or something.

It's on the verge of being a nightmare!

I have little sense of style, fashion or anything and I am not very comfortable in formal dining situations or just about any formal situations for that matter. The food generally sucks and the conversation is generally just as bad. 

Then there is the matter of the simple calls of nature. I remember the time my eye teeth were floating and the line to use the men's room was long. The woman's room line was much worse. I discreetly slipped outside and made a beeline to the nearest bush and upon arrival I found the groom there doing the same thing I was about to.

I can imagine the body preparation that precedes a royal wedding. Everyone probably fasts for 48 hours beforehand and does a colonoscopy prep the night before and has no liquids for at least 18 hours beforehand. 

After the actual ceremony they arrive wherever for the dinner, completely starved and dehydrated. Most people there could easily wolf down three or four Whoppers and a gallon of lemonade in five minutes but that's not how it works.

Everyone is served moderate portions and expected to pick at it like birds and leave just as hungry as they were when they arrived.

My guess is the fast food joints closest to Buckingham Palace did a land office business right after Prince William's wedding. Right after the reception they were probably mobbed by various dukes, earls, ladies and Sirs. I can picture the Duke of Paducah wolfing down about six foot long chili dogs in about four minutes followed by three large Cokes.

I would imagine the pros like William and Harry know a few of the tricks of the trade and probably have an MRE or two and a two quart canteen of water stashed in the limo so they can arrive to the tough roast beef and marble peas dinner not feeling like the starving kids overseas that mothers make their kids eat their vegetables for.

I suppose I'm no different than most guys. I try and avoid formal events. Yet women seem to thrive on them. Then again, there's no figuring out women.


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The deer herd just grew

The fawns the does have sure have grown in the past couple of weeks!




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Medals.

I was watching a video of an infantry company getting ready to enter Fallujah several years ago.

"I don't want to have to write up any citations for medals today," said the company commander.

While I don't doubt the courage of a medal recipient, I will go on record to say that any time one is awarded it means someone further up the chain didn't do their job perfectly. If they had then some poor GI would not have had to do something courageous.

Yet it never seems to work that way. It always seems like GIs that should be entering scorched earth wind up going into a hornet's nest. 

It would make me pretty damned happy to see our GIs accomplish their missions with no casualties and not having to be awarded medals but I don't see that happening in the near future.



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I have been looking around and I am astonished....or maybe not.

Everywhere I go I now see help wanted signs. I have never seen anything like it before in my life.

A local convenience store is offering close to $15/hour plus insurance. I was personally offered a $15/hour job at Walmart the other day.

A couple of weeks back I got curious and scouted for a retirement gig and my in box has been stuffed with job offers. The jobs range from brain surgeons down to floor sweepers and everything in between. It's astonishing.

If that isn't a sign of a good economy, then I don't know what is!

Unemployment has been down to a fifty year low and still dropping.

I'll bet this comes to a screeching halt if someone like Bernie or Elizabeth Warren is elected.





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A couple of crew changes ago I took the US route home and

when I passed a certain bar on the main drag of one of the towns I laughed like hell. I don't dare go in there even though my indiscretion was several years ago.

Small town bartenders generally work at the same ginmill for decades and most of them have long memories.

I had taken the Miata to work and needless to say was driving it home. The weather had changed during the course of the tour and the air was now crisp. I had figured this and had left the appropriate clothing in the trunk.

I was clad in helmet and goggles, leather jacket, scarf, jodphurs and knee high boots and I suppose fifty years earlier would have cut a dashing figure.

I spent the drive home on the curve road enjoying the twisties, gearing down and winding up as appropriate. It had been a late crew change. I had a long drive home and it was getting late.

I was in the middle of the main drag of a small town and saw the lights of a small town bar and decided a taste of bourbon might take the edge of the nip in the air. Of course, I was riding top down.

The bar was on the opposite side of the empty road so I whipped a tight U-turn and parked in front of it. I walked in cutting a rather odd figure from days gone by and confidently walked straight up to the bar.

The bartender saw me and came straight up to me. "Whisky for me and my friends," I said, rather loudly.

The small town drunks out at this late hour sidled up to the bar and the bartender poured them all a shot and then poured mine.

I simple knocked it back, looked at the bartender, threw a five spot on the bar and said, "I don't know any of these people," and walked out leaving him and the rest speechless.

No, I don't think I'll stop in there again. 


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We treat each other terribly.

I recently lost a wonderful neighbor when I was at sea.

He was in poor health and it was no real surprise to me of, really, for that matter, anyone else that knew him well. 

When I arrived home a someone told me and said the widow was sort of a mess and to be very careful. They told me he passed on the way home from a vacation home he has owned for decades. It really wasn't a bad way to go. The two of them were together.

I wandered over and with my usual sensitivity and compassion I knocked on the door. When she opened it I simply asked her, "Other than that Mrs Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?"

That woman and I have shared a relationship as neighbors that really meant we had nothing to say between us. She KNEW how I felt. I liked her husband. She also understands my sometimes brutal sarcasm and actually at times appreciates it. I actually think she would have disappointed if I didn't say something totally insensitive and sarcastic.

Losing a mate is a truly overwhelming event and there's no real preparation for it. It can and often does destroy people.

Of course, there really isn't anything anybody can do. We all leave the planet sometime. Death is a part of life just as birth is.

Still, everybody tries to sooth the widow or widower and virtually everyone is clumsy in their attempt. They generally make the bereaved feel worse. 

Personally I simply offer my condolences and leave it at that. Sometimes all it takes is a simply nod. The nod says it all. It says I know you lost someone and you have my condolences.  I do believe most people ought to do pretty much the same. If it's a friend I simply tell them they already know how I feel.Telling the bereaved what a wonderful person their mate was and carrying on tends only to make things worse.

The worst ones to for the bereaved to deal with are those that bust out crying and carrying on. That sort of thing is contagious and certainly do the bereaved no good whatsoever. 

While we're on the subject, if you are supposed to be a part of the service please get a grip on yourself first. Don't get up there and start blubbering away. Simply hold it in and do your reading or whatever it is you are supposed to do.

I hate funerals and it is my desire simply to buried at sea Old School style. It's a simple process. 

The remains are placed in a shroud of some sort, trussed up and weighted. At the appropriate time (over deep water) the order to stop engines is given followed by the order to prepare to bury the dead.

The body is placed in a plank of some sort, if appropriate covered with a flag. The prayer for burial of the dead at sea is recited, the end of the plank is lifted, the body slips out from under the flag into the sea. The order to secure from burial and prepare to make way is given. It really is that simple.

This is the prayer from the 1789 Book of Common Prayer, suitable for Christian burial:

WE therefore commit his body to the deep, to be turned into corruption, looking for the resurrection of the body (when the sea shall give up her dead,) and the life of the world to come, through our Lord Jesus Christ; who at his coming shall change our vile body, that it may be like his glorious body, according to the mighty working whereby he is able to subdue all things unto himself. 

The whole procedure is short and simple and tends to keep people from brooding, yet has a certain dignity to it. That at least lets the crew know that if they die at sea they won't simply be fed to the sharks.

I really only want one or two people to accompany me on my final voyage and the reason for that is to make sure the skipper doesn't just take the money and dump me where I'll be scraped up by some fisherman dragging the bottom for flounder.

Almost anything decent I have ever had has come from my working on the water. My home, car whatever have all been paid for by my career on the water. Life originated in the water and it is only fair that it return there.

I generally hate going in a circle and winding up at Square One but there's no getting out of this life alive so going full circle makes sense.















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I met another one.

Single male, mid-late 20s reports that another potential mate got scratched off the list for excessive student debt.

I can't say as I blame him. What is interesting is that he was talking with another woman his age that feels the same way when she goes out with a guy. Of course I asked him why he isn't dating her and he smiled and simply said, "Incompatibility." I smirked and left it at that.

I did, however comment "It looks like the pretty girl with a high school diploma ringing a register somewhere looks a lot more attractive, doesn't it?After all, she comes debt free!"

"Don't think that's not under serious consideration," he replied. "She at least comes with an income of some sort, doesn't believe in magic and understands how things work."

I can certainly see where a young person looking for a lifelong partner is being a lot more careful these days regarding finances.

Excessive student loan is a pretty good indicator of someone's ability to make good or bad financial decisions.
If you live 25 miles from the campus then maybe you ought to have considered living at home and commuting rather than renting an expensive apartment nearer the campus. You also don't need a brand new car to commute with, either.

There are any number of people out there that have earned their degrees while incurring minimal student loan debt. 

There is the constant tale of the guy that lives in a van down by the river and showers at the school gum graduating loan free or damned close. He's the guy the hot chicks used to laugh at.

Come graduation he's entering a career debt free and is immediately saving for a down payment on a house he can afford.

The hot chicks on campus are now looking at him in a different light. Maybe the guy living in the van down by the river had something going for him.

Of course, a guy like that probably is nobody's fool. The first thing he checks up on when he asks a potential mate out is how much money she owes and if it's excessive she never gets asked out again.

One of the younger guys I met at work reported that he broke off his engagement because he figured she made lousy financial decisions. Her father offered her $50 to either spend on a wedding or put toward a down payment for a home.

She promptly called the wedding planner people and he promptly broke the engagement. Can't say as I blame him. 

He explained to the father of the was to be bride that he wasn't going to live with a woman that made bad financial choices. I wasn't all that surprised to hear her dad agreed with the former suitor. He expressed disappointment in the decision made by his darling daughter.

It does work both ways. A guy with expensive hobbies living in a small apartment is making bad choices. It's one thing to have a huge income and set up a hobby radio station or build a hot rod to race on weekends and another thing to try and do all of this stuff on a working stiff's income. A guy like this probably isn't too desirable to a smart woman. What is it going to be like when kids come into the equation? 

Off to school the kids go barefoot, yet that hot rod just got a new camshaft! 

I also see where a lot of the younger people, mostly but not limited to men are putting off their nuptials or even staying single. 

I can see where they are not interested in being saddled with someone else's college debt...especially if it is for a useless degree.

Gentleman, a woman with $150,000 worth of college debt and a degree in woman's dance studies is NOT a good candidate for marriage. 













To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

I have gotten fat and I don't like it one bit.

I am in a shirt that is fairly snug. It used to hang on me like a sack.

This is not good. It is time to increase my exercise and decrease my chow intake.



To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

Someone just hit me up with another 'Cher says..."

So who the hell is Cher? She got a master's in political science or something?

Doubtful.

Her Wiki page has her listed as being a 16 year old dropout.

I will cheerfully admit that she has done well in the entertainment business but the entertainment business is just that. It's entertainment, plain and simple.

Please note that the entertainment business includes such things as trained monkeys and numerous things of that nature.

Yet so many people give Hollywood entertainers so much credibility.

It makes no sense.

I have listened to her prattle on about illegal immigration, Donald Trump and a lot of other things. Little of it makes sense.

She claims to support illegal immigrants yet when President Trump suggested dumping illegals into sanctuary cities Cher went off and pleaded with him not to send any to her neighborhood, stating that the social services were already overloaded. 

You don't say! Did she think that they were sitting around in Kansas City with  idle social workers and millions of dollars just waiting for an influx of illegals?

Why we listen to idiots that are supposed to entertain us is beyond me. I don't want trained monkeys to run our government. I want them to dance and entertain me.

Now get up there and dance for me, Cher and shut the hell up.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY