The Stupid Chronicles for April 20, 2013

Gohmert_Louis-Dummy-2Oh don’t mind me, I’m just acting like a Hispanic. Yes dear Louis the Lunatic tops our list today. But it was a close call I tell ya. Louis never fails to deliver the one two punch of stupid all wrapped up in crazy nearly every week. We sometimes wonder if Louis has a bank of writers who dream up his lines, but on reflection that would surely tip the balance and throw civilization into a retrograde orbit.

Louis dear Louis has a gem for us today. Let me put it thusly. Louis viewed Rodin’s the Thinker, and opined, “why is that dude taking a shit in public?”

Louis doesn’t have a pet rock, he’s the pet rock’s pet.

Louis knows his terrorists and he is here to tell you what he has learned. Islamic terrorist organizations are busy helping their Arab folks “act Hispanic” so they can cross the border from Mexico into America. (added joy: there is a video!)

Yes you heard it here.

Although Louis had no opinion of who caused the Boston Marathon bombings at the time he said this, he was pretty darn sure that a fence is the way to go. After all, Israel’s suicide bombings stopped when they built their fence, he offered, unaware that that is not at all true. A good guess is always good enough for Louis.

Compatriot idiot Steve King (R-IA) nodded in agreement and said that the immigration reform bill should be held up, because surely this bombing was caused (he thinks) by some student on a visa.

Louis offered no ideas about how one “acts” Hispanic. Several racist theories comes to mind, but Louis stopped short of asking people to be on the watch for the “typical” Hispanic behaviors. He did whisper that a dead giveaway that you were dealing with a “pretend” Hispanic was to offer him a jalapeño pepper and see if he cries out in anguish and calls for water after taking a bite.

Texas takes our number two spot as well, which isn’t a big surprise–it’s a big state with big idiots in it.

esther-irene-stokes-400x300This is Ms. Ester Irene Stokes. She’s a school teacher in Texas. Or was, or confound it, she probably got herself a medal now.

Anyway, she was accused of fondling one of her female students. Now Ms. Stokes is 61 and the child in question was seven. So that is very bad stuff.

So Ms. Stokes tells police and anyone else who will listen that she is not guilty.

You probably assumed that didn’t ya?

Yes, well she has a rather unique defense.

She says that she is such a racist that she can barely stand to touch those little black girls in her class. The mere touch of their hands gives her the heebie jeebies and sends her off to wash off that black skin feel. I mean she actually cringes when the little nappy heads try to hug here, which must happen once every ice age at least.

There have been no responses by the school in question as to whether Ms. Stokes was still employed. What ya wanna make a bet she won’t have any trouble finding another job in some parts of the country at least.

No doubt that face will be forever seared in your brain.

Third on our hit parade for the week is Maine’s governor Paul LaPage.

getting-to-know-paul-lapageNow Paulie has come to our attention before as you can note from some of his best work at the right.

But he kinda ran out of material for a little while. After the last couple of days though, I think he’s back in fighting form.

The Bangor News seems to have a particularly low opinion in the Guv, suggesting that he “makes things up” a lot.

Well, Paul is at it again. Paul doesn’t like wind power. He thinks it’s somehow un-American, being all cheap and non-polluting and such. Oil and Gas don’t like air power and that’s enough for big Paul.

So Paul said, “Now, to add insult to injury, The University of Maine, Presque Isle – anybody here been up there to see that damn windmill in the back yard? Guess what, if it’s not blowing wind outside and they have somebody visiting the campus, they have a little electric motor that turns the blades. I’m serious. They have an electric motor so that they can show people wind power works. Unbelievable. And that’s the government that you have here in the state of Maine.”

Of course, no such thing is true. The University says there is no “little motor”.

All this would be funny, and it is, but the answer to Paulie’s nonsense is that he’s touched in the head. Read crazy as a loon. Read, coming up on Louis’s shoulder and threatening to pass.

Paulie intends to run for re-election. He predicts that the teacher’s unions better watch out, cuz he’s coming for them. And his new idol? Well that ever-favorite of Wisconsin, Scott Walker.

“I will guarantee you that you will see the most vicious education campaign ads that you’ve ever seen in your life next year, because I am going to be the next Scott Walker in this country, because I am challenging the status quo.”

No, Paulie is challenging the all-time low IQ in the USA. I am putting my bets he will win.

Fourth is a new face for us, GOP House Representative from Iowa, Dennis Guth.

guth-e1366222435292Guth is one of those self-styled experts on the issue of homosexuality.

Guth first focused on the media and accused them of making that homosexual lifestyle seem good and nice, when we all know it’s really yucky.

See, Guth says, homosexuals are like “second-hand” smoke, they cause harm to those around them who are normal. They cause health risks to his family he says, by their increased invitation to transmittable sexual diseases. He opines that there are “more medical tests required” before you can give blood or birth. He thinks they are connected but forgot to say how.

Other than that, Guth was unable to explain why their diseases would “harm” his family, unless of course one posits that either he or members of his family regularly engage the services of willing homosexuals for ummm, sex.

Guth is an idiot, and his Democratic colleague told him so.

Our fifth and last entry for the week comes from good old Arkansas, a state that often shows us the butt end of humanity.

NateNate Bell, is (you guessed it) a REPUBLICAN state rep from good old Ar-KANSAS, who is a protector of the 2nd Amendment, which he neither understands, nor defends with anything other than yippie-ki-yo-ki-yay blather.

Well, inside that fun face is a very human and very empathetic individual. So as soon as he heard about the manhunt going on in Boston and its environs, wondered via Twitter:

I wonder how many Boston liberals spent the night cowering in their homes wishing they had an AR-15 with a high-capacity magazine?

I mean how sympathetic can a guy be?

I mean really?

Nate withdrew the Tweet once it was pointed out to him that he was being a total douche. Of course it was up long enough for a long list of people to tell him that.

Good luck Nate on re-election.

And if you have not run into these videos (YouTube has several by the same guy), then sit back and for a couple of minutes, just chortle your little heart out. Dry up your tears at the above and replace with belly laughs.


They Run the Meadow Forever

Sometime during the night Wednesday into Thursday, our beloved Bear passed. We heard nothing and trust that he died peacefully in his sleep. I am not one to grant an animal an inordinate amount of human understanding, but in this case, it seems apropos.

Bear was scheduled to go to the vet on Thursday for an “assessment”. He clearly knew that something around here was afoot, as strangers entered his home and began carting off the contents last weekend. He was distressed, something very unlike him. Perhaps he sought to save us from the decision. And there is no question in our minds that he much prefers to stay here at his home in the meadow.

We buried him next to his sister, the girlie, Brandy. It all seems surreal in a way, for earlier on Wednesday, the Contrarian put new batteries in a camera and found that we had one picture of her sleeping on her couch. He determined to take a number of Bear “in case”. How fortuitous that turned out to be.

We have talked often since of so many memories of the two of them. So much laughter, and happiness those two had. They went on wild and long journeys throughout their domain which was large, and chased dozens of deer, turkey, pheasants, rabbits, raccoons, hedgehogs, coyotes, and well, if it moved, they chased it. They caught some, ate some, and carried around much as trophy.

They were always together, always teamed in the hunt, in the napping. Her death was so hard on him. At first he seemed unaffected, but his health deteriorated so quickly after he realized she was not returning. He went up to her grave and took the chew bones we left there and brought them back, dropping them at the Contrarian’s feet. He knew she was there.

We have a profound peace knowing they will have this meadow to themselves for all time. We have so many memories. We shall miss them both. They both left us in style and dignity and on their own terms. Would that humans could do as well.


On the moving front, we are nearly all packed up. The movers are returning on Sunday, the only rain-free day we are getting over the next week it seems. There is surprisingly not as much as I expected remaining to go in the POD.  We are expecting to take off on Tuesday morning. It’s been a long journey to this point, and we are ready to begin this new adventure. I’ll try to post again on Monday before we leave.

When You are 62 and Moving. . . .

Well it’s at something like 5 days and counting. It’s getting creepy really. You do stuff and find yourself staring off, and then you have no idea why you are standing there, what you were intent upon doing.

I’ve packed up more than a dozen times. I should have this crap down by now.

It occurred to me that age has changed things. I urge you to pay attention.

Here are the new rules:

  • When packing anything of any importance, make sure you tell your significant other where you are putting it. This is by far the most significant rule. You will forget where you put it. You will remember it’s “somewhere” which is a pretty illusive and useless truth. Exactly where will elude you. So do tell, or write it down. So far I have forgotten where I put the Dodge registration, the Toshiba instruction booklet, the Direct TV bill–and that’s just today.
  • Write everything down. Even your name. By the end of the day you will have forgotten even that.
  • Plan on only getting 2 hours of effective packing done per day. The rest will spend in wandering from room to room, looking for anything that is shaped 3″ x 5″ x 6″ that will fit in that little spot left in the box.
  • Give up on labeling the outside of any box with anything remotely explaining what is inside. Two ancient pistols that my dad had that I have carried from state to state, now are in a box labeled bathroom. Go figure.
  • Check off items on your to-do list as they are completed. By minus-2 days, you will start doing them all over again. The electric company gets mighty cranky when you call again. They accused me of playing a prank and threatened to track me to the gates of hell to collect the 31¢ owing from our last bill.
  • When people ask you why you’re moving, don’t tell them the truth. People born in a state who have lived there all their lives take it rather badly when you tell them their state sucks, especially its weather, and that its inhabitants are pedestrian, ill-educated, crazy evangelical know-nothings. They tend not to want to complete whatever transaction you were engaged with them in. Tell then you are being forced to relocate to care for a sick aunt in an awful state. No need to rub it in that you are escaping.
  • Do make a note of every phone number in the old state if they are obligated to do something. They won’t, and you won’t find their names or phone numbers listed in the phone book in the new state. This will make you very angry.
  • Any cord that has anything on the end of it, save. It goes to something. When you die, people will buy your cords at auction and it will become their cord problem. Cords do this on purpose. Trust me.
  • Live dangerously. Throw out all bills that are dated before the century. Also all receipts. Feel free to discard user manuals for anything you are not taking with you, like the old fridge. It can figure out how to run itself.
  • Save all yarn, pieces of cloth, and interesting looking pieces of wood. From these are born centerpieces and door decorations. And for God’s sake, save pinecones and stones. Geologists need to find stones from Iowa in New Mexico to have something new to do. New theories are born of such anomalies.
  • Oh and when you move into your new house, let your husband go out to the mailbox in a dress and heels just once. Trust me, the neighbors will leave you alone, and you can decide which of them is worth getting to know on YOUR terms.

Okay, back to the salt mines. I’ve had my therapy break. We are gettin’ there. We are still speaking to one another. That is about all one can expect.

Party on!

Yes, It’s True, We’re Marching to Pretoria

It’s all for one and one for all. . . .



Willard thinks we should all just get along now.

Newt says that this proves that Ragin’ Rick ain’t got the cajones and should step aside and let a real man wade into the Mitty waters.

Ron Paul has gone to sleep.

Ragin’ Rick says, “on to Pretoria . . .err, I mean Louisiana–you must stop that ghetto Cajun talk and speak English!”

Me? I’m packing.

Did you know that Johnny Depp is in New Mexico even as we speak? Yes he is! He’s shooting Tonto. And I’m here in Iowa. Not where I should be, by his side, offering technical advice on how he can be even more adorable each and every moment that he breathes.

Oh. Excuse me. I forgot myself.

Hey, I can drift into Deppland just a bit. The Contrarian was pulling for this woman on Jeopardy just because she had big boobs! I never noticed at all. I think that’s a lousy reason to cheer for a contestant.

John has talent. Pure, gorgeous talent, from the tip of his head to the tip of his toe. And I would like to . . .

Back to REAL LIFE.

Real life has Willard in it. Oh that man annoys the bejesus out of me. The phony of phonies, not to be confused with the holy of holies. Or the moly of molies.

Excuse me. I have to make some scalloped potatoes. Explain that name to me. They have no scallops in them, are not cut to resembled scalloped edging. So what is it with calling them scalloped? Huh?

Wanna watch evolution in reverse? Head to the state of Tennessee where you can see the latest in evolutionary chic, which is creationism in all it’s glory. Yes, ladies and gents hurry up and watch the fake illusory fable compete with science.

From this day forward, lil childrins in the fair state of Tennessee whose namer was a writing stutterer (the true spelling of which is Tenese), will be teached both truth and fable in one jumble of hogwash that passes as your basic edge-E-cation. You will learn if you are so inclined that all these so-called “theories” are controversial, as Pastor Backwards so informed you last Sunday from his pulpit. He learnt that from his KJV which has all the important stuff in red, for the quick tour.

They also passed a law that allows all those ten commandments to be displayed everywhere so you can refresh you memory before stoopin’ the mayors sweet wife when she comes in for some “pork” at the deli.

Oh I did not say that.

I have a question. The Willard says that the President doesn’t understand the economy.

Willard says he was a business man.

Does that mean he understands the economy?

Does The Willard have as many experts advising him on the economy as the President has?

Another example of the inability of Republicans to follow plain logic.

Instead of quietly walking away from an issue that is killing them, the GOP is racing over the cliff. In Tennessee, as you no doubt heard, there is a bill that would require every doctor who does an abortion to be in a list, and that list must include the patients, and plenty of personal information about them. It seems that if you can’t stop the abortion, you make a list of all the necessary information for hate groups and their too-willing nuts to “take care of the problem” themselves.

And In Arizona, when even the dried up prune, Jan Brewer refused to sign the “employer decides if your contraception is for the right purpose” bill, another bright GOP bulb wants prospective aborting women to “have to watch a real abortion” first. And before you are treated for prostate cancer you idiot, I think you should was some ass surgery.

Remember back when President Obama and Senator of Orange, John Boehner were close to the “grand bargain” to pass a budget and end the debt ceiling crisis? Remember that? And remember when JB said that the reason it failed was that “Obama moved the goal posts once again”? And remember that he looked a little sheepish?

Well, the truth comes forth. Indeed the Prez and lil’ weiner Boehner were near a deal. And Boehner was very sincere. And while he was being very sincere, wanna be Eric Cantor was being very sincere in going around all the TeaPeople® and telling them that he would lead them in a mutiny against JB, and whispering that JB was nothing but a low-down RINO.

Now, a bit of history is in order. Way back in the time of Newtydom, when Newt was Speaker, he was getting entirely too friendly with working with President Clinton. The religious RAgeous Right decided his time had come, and they were organizing a mutiny to dump Newty. Dick Armey thought he was their chosen heir apparent. Except they had in mind Steve Largent (previously a footballer who had got that old time religion and was married to  James Dobson and Tony Perkins and all those crazy MF’s). So Armey told Newt, and Newt avoided the coup.

So, Boehner gets wind of the tides of NO CONFIDENCE about to descend upon his Cheetos head, and well, he ran screamin’ into the night of NO.

And that’s the way that grand bargain fell apart.  And that MF I threw it in there? That was Mindless Furies. Cuz I don’t use those bad words.

And this I just leave you with, cuz I haven’t worked up anything really good on it yet. I swear it’s true though. Here in Iowa they have begun advertising a website called which is for farmy types who are looking for love. It’s a dating service for hicks. I swear it’s true. I do.


New Year? I Demand a Do-Over!


I don’t ask for much. I truly don’t.

I’m fully lodged in the 21st century, unlike the Contrarian who often seems happier contemplating the 19th.  (You should hear his rant about “episodal ” TV and how Dallas ruined television forever) But I digress.

You see, I spent part of Saturday and early Sunday morning, which need I remind you was the first freakin’ day of the new year! What I mean to say is that I spent hours in the kitchen making “tasty treats” to sustain us through the Rose Parade and numerous holiday bowl games, such as the Rose Bowl, and the Sugar Bowl, and the Orange Bowl, and various other bowls that they no longer call by their right names because somebody sold out to corporate interests who thought it was a good idea to plaster their stupid name over traditions that have existed forever (as long as I been alive), and I will never be bothered to learn their stupid names anyway or buy their crap products.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, so I am making paté and a cheese ball (which I did not put in the shape of a ball at all and did not cover with walnuts cuz I think that is stupid and so 60’s), but I digress. And I made two, mind you, two varieties of chicken wings, one teriyaki-ish and the other Caribbean-ish. And then I made these things called pizza cups, which was not my creation, but I changed the recipe enough to declare it was really mine after all. And then, I  ask a simple, a simple and ordinary question:

“Isn’t it about time for the Rose Parade to start?”

And do you have any clue what I got as an answer?


Well I’ll tell ya.

“Rose Parade? I don’t know about that babe, the pre-game for the Packer game is coming on in five. Big game ya know? Well, not really big, big, cuz they are in the playoffs already, but big for the Little Brothers, I mean Lions.”

“Well I don’t care about the game, and certainly not the pregame, just find the Parade,” I merrily yodel to my beloved.

“No parade today sweets. No rose bowl either as far as I can see. Double header on today, lots of important games. ”

“No Rose bowl? You gotta be insane! Well, you are insane; been there, established that. What about the other bowl games?”

I hear a long sigh, and the remote goes into action with its search element.

“Rose bowl is on tomorrow, and so is the parade.” he mewls in some apparent triumphantal aplomb. (like that fancy linguisitic erudition did ya?)

“TOMORROW!!!!  Are you freakin’ nuts? TODAY is NEW YEARS, they Auld Lang Syne’d and all that crap last night. If it’s New Year’s in the daylight, it’s the Rose Bowl. “

“Nope, fraid not.” (I can HEAR his grin from the kitchen!)

“It’s SUNDAY! ” he shouts as if that is an explanation.

“So what? Who cares what day of the week it is. It’s January 1 and it’s Rose parade and Rose Bowl day. Do you think I made all this damn food just because it’s SUNDAY?”

“Hey don’t yell at me, I’m just the messenger!”

I hear a bit of a giggle.

“Well,  I never<” I lamely start, and then fail to finish.

“Well I think that’s what they do when it’s Sunday,” he offers in apology.

“Never did it before,” I rant.

“Bet they did,” he mummers quietly, but with that swagger than only a wife can detect.

“Was wrong then, then.” I bellow. ” All this is the fault of stupid football and its becoming a year round thing. Should be off now. Stupid football.” (Oh Homer would be proud–not the Illiad guy, the Simpson one, doh!)

“Are those wings ready? I’m hungry!” says he who is indifferent to my misery.

So, just so we got everything else straight. Here is where we stand:

  1.  Herm Cain is still irrelevant
  2.  Perry is still dumber than a dust mite
  3.  Bachmann is still deluded into thinking she’s married to a straight guy.
  4.  Newt is still trying to find an angle to work.
  5.  Mittens is startin’ to believe his own bullcrap.
  6.  And Santorum? Poor thing, he thinks it’s his turn to fly.  You will find him dead at the base of the tree. Ya need wings dipshit.

Oh, I now got a powerful rant building up sufficient to last the whole year. See I told ya, the GOP has polluted my air and I’m losing my mind. Get those jackasses out of my state! NOW!

So beware. Tread further with great care. This year is gonna be one long rant. As Capt’n Jack Sparrow would say: “I’m naming fingers and counting names!”

You have been warned.

And just so you know I mean it—Does this scare the crap out of you? Go rinse your eyes out now.



If One More Person Says. . . .

If one more person says:

If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well congratulations Mr. or Mrs. Perfect. So glad to know you never hurt anyone’s feelings, never took the wrong job, majored in the wrong discipline in college, married the wrong guy, bought the wrong gift, or failed to pay a bill on time. The rest of us wish we could have some do-overs on a whole pack of things in the hopes that with fore-knowledge we would be kinder, smarter, gentler, and a whole lot better person than we WERE.

Take heart, things could be worse.

Yes, they could be. I could be dead. Isn’t that the only real response to such a thoughtless and meaningless phrase. Meanwhile by saying it you feel “sympathetic” while at the same time you have wasted not one precious second of your miserable life truly empathizing with another human being. Congratulations, things could be worse buddy.

If only we could return to the good old days.

Yes, I guess that would be great, especially if you lost everything in the crash of 29, or you were a Jew in Warsaw during WWII, or a grunt in a rice paddy in Vietnam, or had an office in the WTC on 9/11, or were a black person living in Montgomery in the late 50’s, or a woman wanting to be a doctor in the 1940’s. Let me remind you of the good old days of polio, and living in London during the Blitz, and going to back alley abortionists because you felt you had no other option. Let’s get back to life in the Gulags in Russia and by all means remember the slave trade and all those lovely ships that free of charge brought blacks on vacation to America!  Get your damn head out of your ass.

I would rather dig ditches for a living than ask for welfare!

The point is you have never been in that position. You were born, most likely male and white in a land that holds neither your gender nor color as an obstacle to be overcome. Your parents might have been poor, but that was when bread cost a nickel and everybody in the whole neighborhood was poor, and nobody knew they were. You have never been systematically denied anything simply because you don’t fit some model of what such a person should look like. You grew up in a world where unions kept wages high and benefits became a right, not a luxury. You grew up where sweat shops were regulated, and kids didn’t work twelve-hour days. You had a real floor under your feet, and a real roof. Shaddup. What you really mean is that you have yours now, and  don’t want to pay to help anyone else who is caught in this economic hell we now exist in. You are between the ages of 35-65 white and male and YOU feel discriminated against. Yeah, you sure are.

If you live in America, speak English, ditch the head-gear, and act American.

You point out in perfect detail just how lousy our free education has become in this country. Did you learn nothing in history at all? We are a nation of immigrants and each has brought their ethnic life with them. Many cities have ethnic days throughout the summer and celebrate Polish Days, and Armenian Days, and Irish Days, and Italian Days. These were fine with you. And guess what? Those folks actually eat ethnic meals and continue a whole plethora of ethnic morays in their lives here. They actually sometimes live in enclaves where most of them are from the same country. But you now get stinkin’ crazy when Arabs and Latinos want to do the same regarding their native lands. Could it be that something else is at work here buddy? Like your ready to bursting racism? See the paragraph above for further elucidation.

America: Love it or Leave it.

Been there, done that. We went through all this during the Vietnam War era. It was somehow unpatriotic to object to the war as being–get this–IMMORAL. All this stupid phrase really means as far as you are concerned, is that you have some corner on what America is supposed to be, and want anyone who disagrees to shut up and disappear. So you call them unpatriotic. You have defined most Democrats as such, and certainly all liberals and progressives. “Libtards” you call them. Calling people Commies because they don’t agree with your personal desires of how life should be led in America simply reflects your lack of knowledge. How do you think the Revolution got started? I guess the English would have called them “libtards”–Adams and Franklin and those guys. Wise up stupid.

When you get to be my age you’ll agree with me.

That’s about half right and half wrong. If you mean that I will become protective of what I have and not want to share. . .then not so much. If you mean, I will have learned from my mistakes, and see the world in a broader focus, and realize that we are all in this together. . .then that’s probably true. People do not all become conservatives as they grow older, sometimes they become smarter liberals. If your principles are real, then they don’t change, they simple become better articulated.


Cleaning the Lint Trap

Well, we have almost made it to the end of the year. Only a few more precious hours to go before we turn the page. As Keith would say, “congratulations on making it through another year of this crap.”

Now, I am no expert, but I’ve long been of the opinion that most mental illness is caused by an inability to clear out the attic. And no finer time is there for that job than at the end of the year.

Because tomorrow, I’m gonna start making some goodies for the New Year (appetizers are my New Year’s day menu), I thought today would be the day to flick off pieces of lint that have been gummin’ up the old synapses.

So in no particular order:

  • I sympathize with the folks of Samoa who have skipped today and are moving on to Saturday. I mean think of all the havoc being played out. No doubt somebody had an appointment to having an annoying growth removed from their chin, or somebody was getting married or things of that order. What are they supposed to do? At my age, giving up a day is very serious business. I would have voted no.
  • I have to tell you, one of the reasons I have watched the GOP debates (which takes that whole subject to a new low) is to look over the audience and wonder who the hell are these people? Can they afford all those people they must need to dress them and feed them each day? Such people who look to any of that stage of stooges to lead them out of even a corn maze, are barking up the wrong tree.
  • It’s been unseasonably warm here in Iowa this winter. I’d like to think it’s a goodbye present from the state to me. I suspect it has more to do with global warming. To all those folks who claim that all they do is for their children and then say that global warming is but a hoax, I say this: I hope you live to see your children vilify you for gifting them with a dying planet.
  • I have one very serious compulsion I’ve never told you about. I want to make ciabatta bread–I mean the kind you get at the bakery, with gigantic holes. I’m on about my eighth attempt today. Terms like “pulling away from the sides” and “glistening like toothpaste” and “dimpling the surface” are old hat to me. Wish me luck.
  • I want to thank each and every one of you, both for being alive and visiting me often and entering into my madness. I want to thank all of you who blog and keep me laughing and thinking. I want you to know that there really are no such things as virtual friends. There are friends. And I count all of you as such.
  • Jesus was a pretty smart fellow. He knew that even among thieves and nere-do-wells, a certain honor existed and people paid their debts and returned borrowed lawn mowers. He often told his followers that to do as much was not enough, because “even the tax collectors do that much.” No, Christians, and indeed all of us are really judged by how much we step out of our own self-interest and do something for others. God knows there are enough folks out there in need. Children around the world, Muslims maligned for being Muslims, our LGBT friends, immigrants being threatened by draconian intrusive laws. Pick your poison and dedicate next year to helping your fellow human.
  • Never under-estimate the power of a pet to teach you things you are better off knowing. We still miss our Brandy terribly and a day never goes by when she is not thought about, or mentioned in our ongoing lives. She taught us a lot about being human, and that’s a pretty amazing thing for an animal to be able to do.
  • If you smile more than you frown you are way out in front.
  • Writing is nothing more than thinking with your fingers. So said Issac Asimov.
  • I have really had a lot of fun with my food blog. Mostly because I don’t do anything there except post recipes. I’ve been pushed, mostly by myself, to solve a lot of recipe problems. I now have the “perfect” lasagna, a to-die-for corn casserole, and finally I solved the “too-dry” mystery of mac and cheese. Maybe this seems inconsequential to you, but “hey, ma, I’m the queen of the world.”  Well, not quite, I still have that stinkin’ ciabatta bread to work out.
  • One really good thing I learned this year? Crazy, sci-fi shows on the mainstream ABC<CBS<NBC stations are likely to be canceled in mid-story with no resolution, because they play to world audiences, and more money is at stake. The off cable channels, stick with the stories until they are resolved more often. So I ain’t gonna find out what happened on V or Event, but I am likely to get a resolution on Fringe and Sanctuary. Of course none of this matters if you are smart enough to avoid TV with regularity.
  • I continue to be amazed that so little in the way of intellectual capability is required to function in society in some fashion. I think that every time I get done reading Blaze and Daily Caller comments. I also realize how truly poor our educational system is, since most of these morons matriculated through our public education. The few who didn’t were homeschooled by idiots who had themselves barely escaped the public system with sheepskin in hand.
  • I trust scientists more than politicians, but then I trust hairdressers more than politicians. In fact I trust rhesus monkeys more than politicians. The only person I trust fully (Contrarian excepted of course) is Johnny Depp. :/

Okay, so I feel lighter and free once again. Ready to start this craziness all over again next year?

Well, God willing and the creek don’t rise, we will be alive and so will have no choice.

I’ll try to post a few cute pics tomorrow. I’m not cooking THAT hard or long.