Wednesday, July 31, 2013

another chore...

Apparently, my kids cannot leave each other's desks alone.  Especially not when they're both at their desks, drawing with chalk.

I guess I need to empty my little desk, and put it between theirs. 

The little twerps.

Real effective, there.

Apparently, the Big Education establishment has realized that lockdowns in active shooter situations just makes it easier for the shooter to find sufficient victims.  They've authorized teachers to remove students from campuses under attack, telling them to run and hide, or fight if necessary.

With a fire extinguisher.

I don't know, here, guys.  I'm not an expert, but...don't you think that maybe permitting teachers to get a concealed carry permit, and carry a gun might, maybe, be a little more effective than spraying a shooter with a fire extinguisher?  Or are you expecting your teachers to be able to do that and then take the shooter's gun? 

Because that's not real likely to work.

I shouldn't laugh...I really shouldn't.

I contacted the distance learning administration, yesterday, hoping that I could get them to open a new course shell so that I could start manipulating it as soon as the textbook was ready.  I got back an email that kinda reeked of frustration and irritation, telling me that the administrator (who'd always been cheerful and helpful before) literally could not do that, that the whole thing was automated, and would generate a shell based on the course's designation in the university's platform system. 

I almost, almost, sent back this response:
Wow.  It must really suck to have the ability to do your job removed from you, while people still expect the same level of job performance from you with someone else's system in place.  Too bad you can't do what I did, and just go back to teaching in a classroom.
I honestly don't know why I didn't...except I do fully understand her frustration, and would have hunted down and hurt someone who said something like that to me last semester.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013


My dog much prefers being outside over inside.  She doesn't care how hot or cold it is, as long as she gets to go play in her pen. 

It's been raining on and off for the past week (more on than off).  Her pen is a muddy mess, partially because of the rain, but partially because the dog has systematically destroyed most of the grass.  And dug holes to sleep in.  Because she likes holes. 

So, since her pen has been such a mess, she's spent a lot more time than usual inside. 

And yesterday, I needed to vacuum.  So, I did.

I neglected to take into account that the dog, despite being a spayed female, has more balls than a lot of men I know; hasn't been in the house when I've vacuumed before; and hates the lawn mower, and will attack it through her pen's fence. 

She set up a really loud ruckus while I was vacuuming the far end of the room from her, and was out of her reach.  But when I switched to the end between the end of the couch and the kitchen door (where she could reach), the story changed.  The dog.  Attacked.  The vacuum. 

I will admit, it was nowhere near as bad as this.   Then again, the dog is a Scotty.  About 20 pounds, and maybe a foot and some change tall.   And she was tied to the fridge so that she'd actually eat her food, rather than playing like an idiot, so she couldn't actually do much harm. 

But.  She hates the vacuum fully as much, and thinks she's as big as, Murphy. 

getting started...class prep

I finished my Comp I textbook, and uploaded it to the enhanced course site last week.  And I thought that was all, because last I'd checked, there were more than 10 students in both courses.  I guess...either some dropped, or our new university president, in all his infinite wisdom, decided the "make" number had to be higher. 

All I know is that, instead of my 8:00 class in the same room as my 9:00 class (leaving me with a two hour block after class for office hours) I have a 9:00 and a 10:00 class, both in the same room.  I can either stick with the two hours after class (getting home an hour later) or I can go in for an office hour before class (one that will NEVER be used, and that the students will complain is too early).

Beyond that...the course is a Comp II course.  Which I thought I'd have all fall semester to revise and rewrite the book for. 

I still have three weeks before classes start, so I can go ahead and rewrite the textbook, but I may not have time to do anything else productive before then, where writing is concerned. 

Is anyone interested in beta reading a Comp II text?  It's all persuasive/argumentative writing, where the Comp I course is expository writing edging toward persuasive. 

Monday, July 29, 2013


I found out, this evening, that my mother's side of the family is actually pretty big.  I suppose that's only to be expected, considering that my granddad was the oldest of many kids; however, I have met only a couple of my mother's cousins.

Imagine my surprise when, this evening, one of my distant cousins contacts me through Facebook to invite me to the family reunion, mentioning that she didn't know how to get in contact with my grandad's kids, or grandkids.  My mother, aunts, and cousins (my late uncle's kids--my aunts never had any...thank God). 

I have not only never met this person, but never even heard of this person.  Nor have I heard much about her mother or grandmother--my mom's cousins. 

And then, it strikes me.  My mother and aunts are isolated from my grandad's family.  I'm not entirely sure if it's by their own choices, or by my late grandmother's choices.  At least, initially.  Now, it's all on them.

My mother, younger full sister, and my aunts just keep drawing in on themselves, not trying to stay in contact with my late uncle's sons, not trying to stay in contact with anyone outside their immediate circle. 

I sometimes wonder if they'd stay in contact with me, if I weren't so insistent on making sure my kids got to know my family.

And every year, my family's circle of acquaintances gets smaller and smaller, as people they know either die off, or quit talking to them. 

And every year, I see my mother's family--my family--come a little closer to imploding under the weight of their own strangeness and age.

Sunday, July 28, 2013


Damn dog.  She starts yelping to go out right after I got the pixie into her bath.  And, since the pixie is under four, and reckless to boot, I cannot walk the dog, which pretty much guarantees a mess in the crate. 

Why does she wait until now to decide she needs to go?

Criminal masterminds

42.  Never, ever, rob a gun store.  Period.  And, if you decide that you absolutely must, do not try to rob the store with a baseball bat as your primary weapon.  The guns in the cases may not be loaded, but chances are very good that the guy behind the counter is carrying one that is.

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Never have I been more glad that I purchase my own insurance.

I found out today that we skim out from under most of the "Affordable" Care Act's requirements because we have had health insurance since before 2010--I think we got it in '06 or '07--so our plan is grandfathered in. 

Here's hoping that means we dodge out of the fines associated with not having "approved" coverage.

Why is it...

...that when you try to fix one thing, everything else tries to get away from you?

In my focus on getting the bedroom cleared enough to vacuum, I missed a couple of checks.  We have overdraft protection, so nothing bounced; however, that's another thirty dollars down for fees. 

Next up: rewriting my 102 text as fast as I can, so that I can get the online class enhancement platform people contacted, and a new shell created to put it into. 

Here's hoping nothing else gets away from me. 

random ramblings

So the imp got to spend a couple of nights with Grandma and Grandpa.  He'd been nagging me for weeks about wanting to go see Grandma and Grandpa.  The pixie wants to do that, too, and she's just about on the verge of being ready to. 

I got one of the desks assembled, yesterday, and found my colored chalk I'd bought years ago, when I taught on campus--the white chalk provided did not show up on the odd, gray chalkboard I had, and I suspected one of the colors in the colored chalk box would (and yellow did).  And the pixie fell in love with the desk. 

So, I need to assemble hers this morning.  That way, they each have one, and with any luck, they won't fight over them.

The dog has been miserable, this week.  We've had a lot of rain, and it's turned her outdoor pen into a morass.  And she can't be turned loose into the whole yard for a few different reasons, most of which involve her safety.

I had a thought to fix the back yard.  We have a 12' x 17' deck...and whoever put it up originally put no supports under it.  The only supports are the corner posts.  And it's sagging badly, making it ugly and borderline unsafe. 

There's also nothing keeping a dog from walking under the deck and out of the yard. 

I'm thinking we need to take it down, and put up a section of privacy fencing there, and put in a flagstone patio. 

That way, the dog can romp in the entire back yard, instead of just her pen. 

On the other hand...the kids are still scared of her.  It's going to take some training, and I'm not sure how to train her not to grab at the kids, or jump up on the kids. 

Classes will be starting in just over three weeks.  I am so not ready, especially since my courses have been changed.  I had an 8:00 and 9:00 Comp I course, both in the same classroom.  Now, I have a 9:00 Comp I, and a newly opened 102 at 10:00, with no clue what room it's going to be in, yet.  And my boss has gone on vacation.

I only have my Comp I textbook revised.  So I'm going to have to rush through the 102 text.  Wonderful, huh?

I'm stuck on Highway to Tartarus (Godshead's sequel).  I'm beginning to think that my goal of two books a year is an unrealistic one, while I'm still teaching.  I'd like to know whether y'all would prefer that I work on finishing that one, or start working on getting Resurgent (Pendragon's sequel) written for publication next year. 

Friday, July 26, 2013

Plans for the future...

The pixie just finished weaning herself last week.  This is the first time in more than five years that I haven't been either pregnant or nursing.  She's also starting to work a bit on potty training.  The imp is pretty much done with it (right after having gotten a new box of pull-ups, too), but the pixie is starting to try in earnest.  Once she's done with'll be time to decide whether or not we're finished having children.  I don't want to decide while I'm still dealing with changing diapers.  Or spending money on diapers.

I had my eyes checked a week ago.  My prescription hasn't changed in three years, so we're planning on getting my eyes fixed next summer.  As 'tis, I can't see four inches from the end of my nose clearly without my glasses.  Very much not good for emergency situations.  And hard to find shooters' safety glasses that fit over the top of my glasses.

Odysseus is enrolled for two online classes for the fall semester.  He's planning on getting his accounting degree, and taking the CPA exam--partially because we think it would be easier for him to get the kind of job he wants if he's got it, and partially so that, if all else fails, he can just hang out a shingle and go to work as a CPA on his own.

After we've widened and deepened our income stream, we'll think about whether homeschooling or private, Catholic school is a better option for our kids, and whether and/or when we can sell our current home, and move out of town.

Right now, though, my immediate plans include finishing up getting living room stuff out of the bedroom, getting it vacuumed, and getting the kids' new desks and chairs put together.  The desks and chair are pretty much the same as in the ad below, but are in a walnut finish rather than pecan.  They should last the kids for a while.  I hope.

Only to you and your cronies, fat man.

A rising strand of libertarianism is only a threat to big government, doncha think?  Only dangerous to those who want to aggregate more and more power unto themselves, and permit less freedom in day to day life for everyone else? 

I am feeling more and more hopeful about this rising strand of libertarianism, and just hope to God that it's not corrupted by that most wretched hive of scum and villainy that is our capitol.

FFOT: debt collectors.

TinCan Assassin has had trouble with them.

Debt collectors are sub-human at best, with spiritual halitosis that reeks of the blood of their victims.  At worst, they're a wart inside the anus of the world (that being telemarketers in general). 

Thursday, July 25, 2013


"The girl told police she was boarding the route 128 bus when "a creepy guy" got on and sat down across the aisle. 
Right away she could see that he had pulled down his pants and wanted her to look at him. Instead, she started recording the incident on her cell phone."

Here's hoping for a quick arrest.  And that she posted it somewhere for mockery.

Umm...sheriff, dude?

If a murderer is targeting child molesters on a registered sex offenders list, it's not random.  And he shouldn't be arrested, but trained and encouraged. 

If you're worried about crimes he may have committed against others, just watch him.  It's worth the risk to get rid of the rabid animals otherwise known as "rehabilitated" child molesters.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

Almost done...

In cleaning and decluttering the master bedroom, I found something like three or four loads of laundry, hiding under the collapsed clothes rack that we mistakenly put in, in the hopes that it would stand in for an inadequate closet.

As of today, all of that backed-up laundry is finished.  All of the winter clothes have now been found and packed away.  The stuff pulled out of the living room when we rearranged it the first time has been (mostly) sorted between trash and useful, necessary items, and the neccesary things are ready to come back out.

Tomorrow, we go to visit Odysseus's parents with the kids, and I'll have a day off from too much work to do. 

Friday, I'm planning to get the floor cleared up enough to be able to vacuum.  And maybe make a start on sorting the stuff in the baskets on top of Odysseus's dresser. 

It's been a long week. 

And I'm a good ways toward being done with decluttering the bedroom, and making it livable. 

Unfortunately...that translates to little or no writing being done. 

Tuesday, July 23, 2013


Did you know that if you have a Kindle reader, and subscribe to Amazon Prime, you can borrow one book a month from the Amazon store on your Kindle?  It's kinda cool, but not enough to induce Odysseus and me to subscribe--one book is devoured in two or three days, tops. 

However.  On a whim, when I  was publishing my books, I enrolled it in Kindle Direct Publishing Select (KDP Select), which allows me to set five days free download per ninety days...and permits anyone with the correct permutation of acquisitions and subscriptions to borrow my books, free to them. 

And I still get paid. 

I got my first borrow, today.  Someone borrowed Survivors for the first time since it was published a year ago. 

If whoever borrowed the book reads this blog, thanks.  I hope you enjoy the stories.

Can't think straight

I have about five different trains of thought going on at once, most of the time.  One of them is kinda ADHD, and is easily distracted; one is the planner; one is the worrier; one is the dreamer (the one where the stories come from); and the other kinda is the one that's always focused on the kids.

Today, they're all going at once, at full speed, and I can't slow any of them down to be able to figure out what they're even on about. 

I need some trigger time with my .308, I think...

Monday, July 22, 2013

Just seen on Facebook:

"Kate Middleton is officially in labor!  What do you think?"

As a mother who's been through it twice (once very early, leading to a hospitalized imp; and twice with a distressed baby with an umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, leading to a rushed delivery), I hope her labor is short and safe, leading to a healthy baby.  Otherwise, I couldn't give less of a shit.

So proud

My imp has gone four nights without wetting a pull-up.  Three to go before he gets underwear, and a reward of a (cheap) set of take-n-play Thomas the Tank Engine rails. 

Sunday, July 21, 2013


Physically exhausted, right now.  I got four big boxes of hang up clothes, winter clothes, and outgrown kid clothes out of our room, a whole bunch of other stuff that belonged other places in the house, my chest of drawers, and two bags of receipts, magazines, and other stuff, out of the bedroom today. 

It took all.  Bloody.  Day.  And I'm not finished, yet.

I foresee a lot of sheer, physical exhaustion in my near future.

At least I got half way done. 


We now have another closet.

Between one thing and another (stored stuff and an electric water heater), there's no room in the tiny, unlighted closet in our bedroom for our clothes.  We're planning to take the end of the hall bathroom--which is sort of wasted space, now--and put up a wall and put in a door from our bedroom to create a nice-sized walk-in closet. 

Doesn't help us much now.  So, we decided to go ahead and build in a closet anyway. 

Odysseus put up brackets and a closet rod Friday.  Yesterday, he went and got a shelf cut at Home Depot, then brought it home and spray painted it white. 

Voila!  Closet.  No, there's no entry into our bedroom--yet--but at least it's functional.'m gonna start hanging up all of our clothes.  And then we're going to take out the closet rack taking up a good portion of our usable floor space in our master bedroom that those clothes had been hanging on.

Our bedroom is so crammed with packed away winter clothes, and boxes of hang-up clothes (the rack collapsed) that we can't get to the dressers to put clean clothes away, and only have a path between the door and the bed, and enough clear floor space to open and close the bathroom door.

Guess what my project is for the week...

Saturday, July 20, 2013


Police forces using military tactics is completely unacceptable in anything but a third-world dictatorship or a totalitarian regime.  The laws need to be changed--now--to permit law abiding homeowners to shoot back when their doors are kicked in, and to not charge them with murder when and if a cop gets killed. 

Especially when there is no warrant involved

Order up...

One order of rancid cunt...extra crispy...coming right up. 

Or maybe down might be a better way to put it.

...and the truth comes out, little by little.


Another Union Fears 'Destructive Consequences' From Obamacare...

Insurance rates to spike 72% in Indiana...

random ramblings

The imp has kept his nighttime pull-up dry for two nights in a row, now.  I'm so very, very proud of him!  Yes, it means cutting off his liquid intake at six (an hour after he gets supper), and getting him up to use the toilet before I go to bed, but he's doing it. 

If he can keep a dry pull-up (with Mom and Dad's help) for five more nights, he gets to sleep in underwear, and get a new train tracks set (a cheap one). 

The pixie is very happy little girl most of the time...but is starting to try throwing a temper tantrum when she's told no.  Starts to cry, and when that doesn't work, she screams.  She's had a week of warnings, now, and the next time it happens, she's getting a swat on her diaper or pull-up before getting sent to her room. 

They're both growing so fast.  His sweats, which fit him fine last month, are half an inch above his ankle bones, now.  One of her pairs of stretchy pants that she wears to sleep were too tight, and an inch too short, when I put them on her last night--last month, they fit perfect.

Right now, since it's been so hot, lately, and since there's pretty much no small children's programming on after seven in the morning on Saturdays, we're outside.  They're running in circles around me in the hopes to wear out some of their boundless energy before going back inside. 

The dog didn't crap in her crate, this morning.  It's the first morning since the pixie tried to get up at six--I got her put back down, and the imp didn't knock on our door for company until nine thirty.  Dog is used to going outside by seven thirty, so she was (understandably) unable to not crap in her crate that morning. 

However.  That does not  explain or excuse doing it every morning since

We tried switching the cats to adult cat food, earlier this month.  Shadow (the black one) didn't seem to do well.  She went lethargic, and started eating more--which means she packed on the weight.  I remember reading, somewhere, that cats won't overeat if they're getting all of the nutrients they need, but they won't stop eating until they get those nutrients. 

So, we switched them back to the kitten food.  And Shadow is playing a lot again, and has stopped overeating.  Cricket seems happier, too.

(They're about fourteen months old, now, OCM, so it wasn't a case of putting kittens on adult cat food.)

The dog very much likes her adult dog food.  The Purina One has bits of dried meat in it, and she LOVES it.  She sorts through and eats that first, then plays with the rest while she's eating. 

We got the last of the imp's old dresser moved into the laundry room part of the back room, and moldy carpet from under the appliances on Wednesday.  I've still got the carpet pad to get scraped up, but that bit doesn't have mold in it. 

And Thursday, our car, a '93 four-door Lexus, decided to get critically ill.  The radiator developed a crack on the way up to my mother's house.  Odysseus let it cool, then tried to nurse it home.  No luck.  We had to call for a tow to a local mechanic, and then my mom took Odysseus to our house, so that he could get the two-door '03 Civic that he drives for work.

So, I haven't gotten much writing done this week.  I've gotten everything else done, but not that.  

Friday, July 19, 2013

Trayvon's dad is right about one thing.

If the kid had been white, he wouldn't have been skulking about other neighborhoods after dark, wouldn't have been indoctrinated into the thug culture as a racial identity, would have rabbited and kept going instead of jumping a suspected stalker from behind to beat his ass into the pavement. 

And Zimmerman would never have been crucified by a media with an agenda, nor tried as a murderer for shooting a kid that was several inches taller, and quite a bit heavier and more fit.

To Chris Matthews:

Go suck on a donkey dick, fuckface.  You do not speak for me, and I am not sorry that Trayvon Martin got shot for beating up a smaller, weaker man, nor that the man who shot Martin rightfully walked (sort of) free. 

If the other MSNBC employee that you were speaking to "could have been Trayvon Martin," he needs to be tested for illegal substances, fired, and arrested before he beats the fuck out of someone trying to protect their home neighborhood from being burglarized.

Although, it it's you he decides to beat the shit out of...then he deserves an award.


My dog.  My dog can fuck off.  I love her to pieces, but she has shit in her crate every FUCKING morning this week. 

Thursday, July 18, 2013


Harry Reid is one

Climate change isn't what's responsible for the devastating wildfires in the Western states.  It's the attitude that all forested areas must be maintained as-is, with no brush-cutting, no controlled burns, no preventative measures. 

A natural forest has smaller fires more frequently--things that clear out tinder.  And then, they go out. 

When the tinder isn't cleared, it builds up enough for lightning strikes to spark a fire, and for the fire to quickly grow out of control.

It isn't climate change in any form causing fires.  It's the environmentalistas meddling where they lack a basic Boy Scout level of understanding.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Pillsbury does some damn good cookie mixes.

Tried their snickerdoodle mix.  The only complaint I had (that there wasn't enough cinnamon sugar for all three dozen cookies the mix claimed to make) was easily remedied.

The cookies are damn good.  There's already been about a dozen disappear between Odysseus, the pixie, and me (the imp tried them, but didn't like them).

Make sure you use real butter when you make them.  Margarine and shortening just don't have the right flavor.

I really hate mold.

All that's left of the carpet in the back room is what's directly under, behind, and to the left of the washer--about a square yard of soggy, moldy rug.  We moved the dryer, and I got what had been under it, and what was in front of the washer ripped out.  Odysseus told me he'll get the last part out from under the washer in a little bit, leaving the appliances sitting on bare concrete...where, if we have another leak, we won't wind up with saturated carpet breeding mold.

Tomorrow morning, I'll be soaking the glued down carpet pad with white vinegar before we go to my mother's, and hopefully getting it scraped up after we get home. 

Right now, I'm sucking down a cup of coffee, letting the heat help with the sinus headache I wound up with. 

I'm not allergic to much...but mold is the worst. 

Here's a candidate for forced sterilization.

This bint needs all of her children removed from her custody, and then tied down and given a hysterectomy.  I'm torn about whether she deserves anesthetic or not.  What she doesn't deserve is any future contact with her children, or any chance to birth any more.

Seriously, who throws a baby in a car seat at a cop, screaming at him to shoot through the baby to get her while she runs away (abandoning two older ones in the car), over $260 worth of clothing?

On the To Do list for today:

1. Get the rest of the carpet pulled up.

2.  Move an antique dresser back to the laundry room for extra storage use, and to fold clothes on.

3. Get eyes checked.

4. Get husband enrolled in classes.

It doesn't seem like a lot, at first glance, but the last part of the carpet is under the washer and dryer.  About all I can think of is to slide the dryer down, strip up that part of the carpet, and then move the washer down, or prop the front up, pull out part of the carpet, then prop the back up, and pull out the rest. 

The dresser is in my son's room, at the other end of the house--there are four doorways and two very sharp turns (from the bedroom door through the hall doorway into the living room, and from the living room through the living room door).  And the dresser is heavy solid wood.

My eye appointment is at noon, and my other half wants to get his enrollment done this morning.  I'd be happy to push some of this until tomorrow, but we're visiting my mother tomorrow. 

At least I got unstuck on that story that didn't want to be started.  Imagine the Valkyries at a rodeo...

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Ever feel so overloaded you just don't want to even go to bed?

You got a lot done, but not all of it, and now, you don't want to even go to bed despite how tired you are, or how bad you feel.  Because you know that, when you wake up you have even more to do?  That's me, right now. 

And I feel like shit.


I've never seen it put better than this.  It's true (and very hard to recharge when you've got two tiny extroverts in your hamster ball with you).

Monday, July 15, 2013

Only another hour and a bit...

The kids go to bed at eight.  I think they'll be spending all of the time between now (6:42) and then in their rooms. 

Why?  Because the pixie and the imp conspired to slosh half a child's bath's worth of water on the floor.

The pixie finished her bath, and dried off while the imp frantically stripped off and jumped in.  I turned on America's Funniest Home Videos for her, and she watches until a commercial break.  I'm busy in the kitchen.  She says, "I gotta go peepee, Momma," and takes off before I could do anything.  I can't exactly drop what I'm doing anyway.

By the time I get there, she's coming out of the bathroom, as naked and wet as if she'd just gotten out, so I ask her if she got back in.  "No," is the very soft answer. 

So...I go look.  And I find that there had been a splash fight with one on the potty chair and the other in the tub.  The bath mat is soppy, and there's water in the trashcan with the pull ups. 

The floor has a linoleum section surrounding the toilet and side of the tub.  It's about three or so feet wide by five or so feet long--the length of the tub. 

There was water standing about half an inch deep across that whole segment of linoleum, and soaking into the carpet. 

I am so very, very angry with them that they're going to be staying in their rooms until I cool off.  Mommy needs a time out.

And a stiff drink.

I hate mold.

Saturday morning, we had an "adventure."  The drain hose decided that the perfect time to come loose from the washer was during the spin/drain cycle, just after the wash cycle. 

And, since we hadn't gotten the carpet out from under the washer and dryer yet...we're battling mold. 

I've got a quarter of the last bit of carpet out, but Odysseus isn't feeling up to helping me get the last of it, especially not a couple of hours before he has to be at work.  And I, after having gotten one of the worst moldy spots (thanks to a storm door that doesn't fit permitting rain to come in around the back door), don't feel up to finishing the job, even if he did feel up to helping. 

I fucking hate mold.  Especially in carpets.

This post has not been approved by the United States Ministry of Truth.

Which may, in the future, become a problem, because I refuse to disseminate propaganda.

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Cheap, filling, and...surprisingly tasty.

Cornmeal mush, that is. 

For two people*:

2 c water
1/2 c cornmeal
1/2 tsp salt
pinch baking soda

Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan, bring to boil, stirring constantly.  Keep stirring until it reaches the consistency you like (mine was about half again as thick as cornbread batter).  Serve in a bowl with cream and maple syrup.  Sort of like Cream O' Wheat, but with cornmeal instead. 

I suspect it would also be very, very good with orange marmalade. 

My mother told me to take the leftovers and put them in a bread pan in the fridge, then slice and fry them the next day...guess what I'll be trying tomorrow.  Even though there was barely enough leftovers to fill one muffin cup.  Oh, well.  If I like it, I might well start making a bigger batch so that I can do fried cornmeal mush.

*Could easily be scaled up or down as needed.


Zimmerman's gonna sue NBC for selectively editing the audio of his 911 call to make him look racist.*

*My definition of racism is injecting race issues where they're not applicable.  In other words, the forces behind the whole trial bullshit were racist...and Zimmerman wasn't.


I've been playing with ideas for the title of The Godshead's sequel.  I've had a few ideas--mine was Road Trip, and Odysseus's was Highway to Tartarus--but nothing that really seemed to fit. 

I've come up with two more options:

1. Highway to Niflhel

2. Welcome Home (tribute to Metallica, I know, but it's kinda what Hades's domain is in the process of becoming, between Pan and Loki residing there and undergoing therapy.  And yes, they're tracking a crazy goddess to trank and drag into involuntary confinement)

I'd like to know what y'all think. 

Due process

No person shall ... be subject for the same offense to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, or be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law...--Amendment V, United States Constitution

"I think that we clearly must move on to the next step in terms of the federal government and in terms of the civil courts." Al Sharpton, race-baiter extraordinaire
Is it me, or does it sound like he wants the federal government to try Zimmerman for murdering Trayvon Martin, despite having been found not guilty?  I understand that Martin's parents have the option of a wrongful death suit, but seriously?  Putting him up on charges again for Martin's death is flat-out unconstitutional. 

The man has already had his life taken in payment for his stupidity.  His social security number has been published--meaning his identity has probably already been stolen.  And he's unlikely to be issued a new one by a federal government that decided he was guilty of murder as soon as he'd pulled the trigger because he's "white" and Martin was black, never mind that Zimmerman's not white.

Zimmerman, with all of those out there after his head, is not going to survive the year.  If someone doesn't murder him, he's going to wind up killing himself because he's never going to be able to leave this part of his past behind him.

Neither the progressives, the media, nor that certain segment of the population will permit it.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Well, duh...

Zimmerman has been found not guilty.

And he's not guilty of second degree murder.  Nor of anything other than justifiable homicide and self defense.  Oh, and stupidity.  Let's not forget that. 

But he's not guilty of murder. 

I've seen people praying for peace and sanity to prevail across the internet. 

I disagree.  I'd like to see some of the human roach population exterminate itself in some form or fashion.  I'd prefer for it to be at each other's hands.  I'd really prefer for it to not be at the hands of those whom they would victimize in the name of "justice."  But I do want to see the welfare-draining, illiterate, innumerate, violent, racist, self-segregating segment of the population decrease.  I want to see it decrease a lot

Only then does peace and sanity have a chance of prevailing.  And even then, only if the race-baiting self-proclaimed "Reverends" Jackson and Sharpton meet their Maker (and learn of His disappointment in them) in the chaos.

Not a bad idea, but...

Not that I have any objection to schools teaching gun safety in first grade, but shouldn't parents be teaching their kids to, I don't know, not touch guns?  I started teaching my kids the Eddie Eagle gun safety rules as soon as they were awake long enough.  Repeated them over and over, from the time they were infants.

Want to know something?  Neither kid touches guns when they're on Mom or Dad.  Nor do they touch if they happen to wander into a room when I'm changing clothes (and don't have my gun on at that moment).  If they find one of the airsoft guns, they come get me to put it up. 

It wasn't hard.  And they think of our guns as just something else Mommy and Daddy put on in the morning, like their pants.  Y'know...boring.

Are you really sure you want Americans to live up to the Declaration, King George?  Remember what happened the last time.

(Personally, I think King Putt's never read it.  Otherwise, he'd realize what he was asking.)


The Kremlin has stopped using computers for its most sensitive info.  Honestly, that strikes me as a very sensible idea.

random ramblings

Last night was unbearably funny.  The imp was sitting on the floor, when I was escorting the pup out for her walk, and the pup scrambled into the imp's lap, licking him all over the face.  "Stop, stop, stop," giggled the imp. 

I got the pup outside, and she did what she needed to do.  When we got back in, there was a box sitting upside down where the imp had been (and I could see toes between the flaps).  So, the pup sniffed around the base of the box, tail slowly wagging, until the pixie got him to say something to her and giggle--at which point, the pup found where the flaps were separated a bit, squeezed between them, and crawled into his lap under the box.  Much squealing giggles. 

Not too much later, I was on the floor petting (and trying to brush) the dog, and the pixie came up.  I helped her pet the dog by hanging onto her so that she couldn't jump up on the pixie (who only outweighs the dog by about eight pounds).  And the dog wiggled and squirmed, and flipped around trying to lick the pixie, eliciting more squealing giggles.

One of our kitties has succumbed to the fixed cat's curse: she has a stocky build, anyway, but Shadow's getting a little pudgy.  Not surprising, since she sleeps all the time.  Cricket is a silly little spaz, and is constantly playing.  Shadow finds a dark, quiet, out of the way spot, and sleeps (and we can't find her when she does that--a disadvantage to having a black cat).

I got a little bit of writing done last week, and some editing done of my textbook (which I now need to do electronically, then save the fixed copy as a .pdf file, and upload to my course site)...but not as much as I was hoping for.  I'm not surprised--I seem to have had some major problems getting anything really productive done.  The kids have been spastic and prone to fighting, and I've wound up kinda tired by the time they go to bed at night most nights.  I think the imp, in particular, needs to go outside and play.  It's been so hot that he hasn't wanted to go...but today, tomorrow, and next week are supposed to be a lot cooler. 

And he is getting big enough that, when I'm working in the kitchen or utility room and can keep an eye on him through the back door and back window, I'm happy to let him go outside and play by himself.  He stays inside the fence.  The pixie, on the other hand, isn't trustworthy. 

I gave away sixty copies of Survivors to US readers, two to Canadian readers, six to those in the UK, and two to those in Denmark, for a total of seventy copies given away in five days.  That's about fifteen more than I've sold of all three of my books in my best sales month.

Friday, July 12, 2013

FFOT: radical feminism

I've been trying to find something to send off this week, and then I ran across an article: there's been a study of whether or not ADHD drugs actually translate to improved grades and classroom performance (it doesn't).  But there was a figure that had me grinding my teeth--"277 boys and 93 girls were diagnosed with ADHD" out of a group of 5,700 children entered in the study. 

Almost three times as many little boys diagnosed as not behaving like little girls in the classroom, sitting quietly and absorbing knowledge like well-behaved little sponges, who are then drugged into acting like a zombie.  Just because they're different from little girls. 

Radical feminism, and the idea the boys and girls are exactly the same can fuck right the fucking fuckety fuck off with a triple-sized cricket bat studded with rusty nails, broken glass, and razor wire jammed sideways somewhere dark, humid, and fragrant. 

Boys are completely different from girls, and not just physically.  Nor are the differences socially constructed.   Boys run.  They jump.  They wiggle.  They're loud.  My son is exactly that way, but is not ADHD, despite his doctor suggesting he might be.  When he's interested in something, he can sit down quietly and focus on it for almost an hour at a time (and yes, that does include "reading," but he's kinda unique in that).  He's not quite five years old, so I find that incredibly impressive. 

Another reason radical feminsim can fuck the fuck off is because of pushing the concept of a complete lack of responsibility for women.  I know, right?  A movement that's supposed to argue for equality is trying to infantilize women.  That can definitely fuck off.  It's the root of the abortion movement, the root of no-fault divorce, and the honest root of the rise of the rise of obesity. 

So, yeah.  Radical feminism can fuck off.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

I have an idea.

This is flat wrong.  I can understand the motivations, but God above, that's what the Nazis did to the prisoners under their control! 

I have a better idea. 

Offer every woman who's had two babies by two different men, and has never been married, a million dollars, tax free IF she...

...accepts free sterilization.

...accepts that her fingerprints and social security number will be recorded, and she will never get anything other than a WIC voucher again. 

Doubtlessly, the million would be gone in a year or two, but that's not our problem.  And WIC vouchers do not buy junk food.

Disgusting, but not surprising.

There was a murder over Independence Day weekend.  A kid celebrating his 21st birthday attacked and stabbed a homeless Vietnam veteran. 

I say it's not surprising because I know that age group, and I know how many of them have grown up in a home where the parents are either absent entirely, leaving them to raise themselves without a sense of right and wrong, or the parents want to be their "friend," and it's a miracle if they ever learn to distinguish between right and wrong because they have no boundaries set. 

I will admit, it's not easy to raise children.  Especially not smart ones, who want to know why you told them not to throw things in the house, or why you're telling them not to run in the house, or why they have to stop doing something they want to do (but has the potential to hurt them really badly).  I'm still trying, though.  I've set boundaries, and told the imp that he's not to do this or that because he might hurt himself or someone else.  If he goes ahead and does it, and it's only going to hurt him (a little), I let him, because then he doesn't do it again.  If it has the potential to hurt someone else, I immediately stop him, and tell him he's going to hurt someone else.  If he persists, I spank him. 

Boundaries are important.  Kids need to learn, and early, what is and isn't acceptable behavior.  They need to learn that other people have feelings, and that their lives are also important.  If children don't learn that as children, they won't learn it as adults, either.  And they end up seeing the world as something placed for their convenience, and peopled by cardboard cutouts. 

Parents used to teach their kids right from wrong, or if they didn't, their church family did.  In a nation peopled increasingly by adult-aged spoiled toddlers who don't want to put themselves out to raise their kids, or listen to a message that there is an absolute moral code by which they should live, we're going to see a rise in the number of nasty little sociopaths, and stupid ones who can't see why they should put on a mask to fit in and hide what they are, much less be able to.

Criminal masterminds...

41.  Never, ever break into a residence and walk around carrying a hatchet.  The homeowner will think you're there for reasons nefarious and harmful to him, and will shoot your stupid ass. 

What a novel idea!

Split multi-issue bills up to vote on the pieces!  Why, it's like trying to focus on getting one thing done right at a time!  It might reduce legislation to a readable length before the vote comes up!

I'd be far happier if they'd just start cutting farm welfare, and maybe dropping SNAP altogether.  Then again, I live in an area not prone to riots, and I have plenty of ammo stored. 

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

'Bout time.

With kids rejecting Michelle Antoinette's idea of a healthy school lunch as being yucky or insufficient,* I'm surprised that more schools aren't jettisoning her stupid guidelines.

*Seriously?  Part of a chicken patty on a mini-croissant?  Does she seriously think that's enough for a high school student

Nine years ago

Nine years ago, today, at seven in the evening, I married my best friend.  He's still my best friend, even after nine years, an advanced degree, two kids, and two fairly major home remodels. 

Happy anniversary, Odysseus.

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Oh. My. Lord.

While this is funny on many levels, it's also completely horrifying. 

I agree with the commenter that said we need to remove warning labels from everything, and let nature take its course.

That's a problem.

Margaret Thatcher said "The problem with socialism is that you soon run out of other people's money." 

This is especially true when the number of people on social programs (like food stamps) outnumber those who are working full time.

We are so screwed.


Criminals, sit up and take note: this is the way to do it right.  Distract male homeowners who have pools with a woman skinny-dipping, while you rob their houses behind them. 

Unfortunately necessary

I hate that this idea is necessary, but I give Cantor full props for putting forth a potential law that explicitly states that citizens are permitted to record federal enforcement agents, and would prevent the IRS from enforcing the "Affordable" Care Act. 

Oh, great.

Elliot Spitzer--he of the $4,300 plus expenses per night call girl scandal in NYC--has decided he wants another job on the public dime.  Says that public service was "the most satisfying thing for me ever." 

Either that means he hasn't been able to find and keep another job...or he's talking about the publicly funded blow-jobs he was receiving the last time he was in office.

I suppose it doesn't matter--either way, he's intending to service the public.  Again.

Honestly, I'd rather vote for his opponent, Kristin Davis--the madam whose girls he rented.  She's done her time, and is now seeking the job that Spitzer wants. 

Unlike poor Spitzer, she's actually got private sector business experience...a successful business, at that, if illegal. 

I'd say we should just admire his spunk, but I really don't want to.

Monday, July 8, 2013

What a BRILLIANT idea!

Hand out free condoms to rapists to reduce the level of STD transmission in prison

Here's a better one: taint all of the food fed to prisoners with something that causes erectile dysfunction, like saltpeter. 

I have an idea!

Chicago resident Rashauda Tolbert says of her city's tendency toward gun violence, "It’s crazy. Kids can’t play outside. People can’t sit on their porches. The shooting has been going on for days. Why we gotta be prisoners in our homes?"

You "gotta be prisoners" because you live in a gun control advocate's paradise.  You live in a state run by people who force you to be a victim.  If you don't like can change your state's government, or you can move somewhere that will let you buy yourself a gun, and shoot back at the rude little shits spraying bullets everywhere.

In the meantime?  I think you're stupid for staying someplace like that.


Survivors is free until Friday.  I've given away two copies already.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Never trust a cop.

There is no way to tell the ones who will not violate your constitutionally-protected rights from those who mistake bottled water for alcohol, or those who decide your house is the perfect stake-out for your neighbor's house...or from those who will shoot you because they think the hose nozzle you're holding might be a gun. 

I do know some good cops.  Some. 

I also know cops who refused to investigate allegations of child abuse, molestation, and various other things, because the accused was one of their buddies, and a good guy, and "wouldn't ever do that to his own kids."

I am disinclined, through incidences in my own past, to believe that law enforcement sees me as anything other than just another target.  And current headlines and stories aren't doing a damn thing to change my mind.

Honestly?  I'm more than a little scared.  When my point of view ceases to be a minority amongst the law abiding, there's trouble.  And more and more people are looking at cops as jack booted thugs to be dealt with when the time comes. 

Nothing gets the kids laughing harder...

...than America's Funniest Home Videos, especially when people are getting hurt.

Saturday, July 6, 2013

Wanna know one reason I don't teach below the college level?

These kids don't make it to college.  And their compatriots that do can be bad enough.

It isn't race.  It's culture.  And their culture is race and racism.

My kids are clowns.

A few days ago, I taught the kids "Pop Goes the Weasel."  I had to explain that the weasel was angry, and hit the monkey, because the imp thought he popped like a bubble.  He, in turn, explained that to the pixie while he was trying (and failing) to play with her.  She turns to him, narrows her eyes, and tells him, "You a monkey." 

The imp's eyes went wide, and he edged away from her, playing quietly by himself until she calmed down.

I choked--I haven't heard a more creative threat from a two-and-a-half year old child. 

Recently, as I play with the kids, and the pixie climbs in my lap for refuge, the imp comes up saying "I gonna eat [Pixie] up!"  I gather her up and turn away, claiming that I'm gonna eat her up, and she's not big enough to share. 

This evening, the kids eating supper in the kitchen while I did a few things elsewhere, started screeching.  I nearly yelled at them for fighting, but something got me to stop and listen.

Imp: "I gonna eat you up!"

Pixie:  "I not big enough share!"

Back and forth, with screeching giggles. 


Longest Stretch of 7.5%+ Unemployment on Record...

I don't understand how the unemployment numbers--which include underemployment--can read at 7.5% unemployment, when only 47% of adults have a full-time job.  Not without someone massaging the numbers until it should count as prostitution, at least. 

Then again, they literally cannot report the accurate numbers without full scale rejection of their ideas and ideology.  They cannot let the country know that the unemployment numbers are so much higher, not without every congresscritter in DC losing their job. 

I'm employed part-time as a college professor.  Odysseus's pizza delivering gig is part time, and his hours were cut back after the "Affordable" Care Act mandates started approaching.  Many universities--the people who fought so hard to get this anal-reaming of a law passed--are cutting back hours for their people to avoid the requirements.  Full-time jobs are disappearing, because they're too expensive, given the requirements for the "Affordable" Care Act's minimum legal health insurance.  I predict that, in two years, the only people employed full-time will be government employees--who, I believe, are exempt from the "Affordable" Care Act, anyway. 

And then, it will collapse.  What follows that is anyone's guess. 

Things are not going to get any better unless and until the "Affordable" Care Act is repealed.  

Random ramblings

My imp has been testing his boundaries, this week--doing things that he knows he gets in trouble for.  I think he's been testing to make sure everything is still the same.  But it's been a royal pain to deal with.  Especially since I only really get snuggles from that one when I get him up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom.

I've started letting him go out into the fenced in back yard by himself while I work in the utility room or kitchen, where I can watch him.  He's very good about staying inside the fence, and being good.  His sister, on the other hand...she takes eyes constantly on her, or she's fiddling with the gate, trying to get it open. 

The pixie has been really taking things she learns on Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood seriously.  She's been wandering around, picking up her toys and taking them back into her room, singing, "Clean up, pick up, put away...clean up every day."  Something she learned, and took to heart.  I need to get her some shelves for her room so that she has someplace to "put away."  Right now, all of her babies share a single 6" x 21" cradle, and the stuffed animals go in the crib still in her room, and everything else gets tossed in her play house.

I got the back room mostly cleaned totally out.  I've got one more box of kitchen stuff, and then it's all out.  The cats really like it--I've opened up whole new areas to explore.  I've also uncovered nice, cool cement floor for them to sprawl on when it's hot. 

The pup...needs bathed again.  She's going to be a very unhappy puppy tomorrow.  She should be glad that I don't think she needs another haircut, yet.  Close, but not yet.  Maybe in another week or two. 

I've gotten a couple more stories written on the sequel to The Godshead, but not as much as I was hoping to get written.  I've got nine stories left to write, and I'm tempted to add a couple more that I have ideas for. 

Speaking of The Godshead, I seem to have sold a couple more Kindle editions.  Thanks, whoever bought them, and I hope you enjoy the stories and the world. 

Last, but not least, Survivors will be on free promo from Monday, 7/8 through Friday, 7/12. 

Friday, July 5, 2013

One of those days...

I did too much, yesterday--but now, I can rip the last of the old, molded carpet out of the utility room/pantry, and perhaps slide a square of what's in the rest of the house under the washer to absorb the vibrations from the spin cycle.  And now, I can perhaps finish finding places for everything in the kitchen. 

But that doesn't mean I'm not paying for it.

And the kids, while they are playing together well, are so full of energy that it hurts my legs and back to watch them. 

It's just a bit after three...and their bedtime is five hours from now. 

I can do this.

Is it just me...

Or is the news depressing everyone else, too? 

FFOT: Government stupidity and overreach

I have two things on my list, this morning.  First: MassachusettsAgain.  Can fuck off with a cricket bat studded with rusty nails.  TJIC needs help, and definitely needs to move to a free country.

Second: this.  What are these people even doing getting a fucking tax refund in the first place?  They are not supposed to be here at all.  And the IRS has just demonstrated their incompetence by accepting multiple claims all from the same damned address.  And they expect us to believe that they can carry out the implementation of the only thing I've ever seen more complex to our tax code?

I'm so angry about these things that I'm speechless. 

Thursday, July 4, 2013


I've been staring at this blank page, on and off all day, trying to come up with something uplifting...and I just can't.  Our nations is so very, horribly divided, not between the haves and have nots, but between the productive and the parasites (the worst of which are in government on local, state, and federal levels). 

All of my life, I've been so proud of our nation, and our system of government.  Lee Greenwood nailed it in my opinion--or, at least, that used to be the case.

Now?  Now, we have the government on all levels getting so intrusive and vindictive that I no longer say what's on my mind (not even here).  I no longer trust that the government works under constraints set out more than two hundred years ago by men much smarter than any I've ever met today.  I no longer believe I live in a free country.  Why?



NSA, DEA, BATFE, DHS, DFS, and all of the other alphabet soup organizations. 

I will admit: we have it nowhere near as bad as places like Egypt, or Somalia, or Cuba or Venezuela or Argentina...yet. 

I pray to God that it never gets to that level.

But, I haven't been able to write an uplifting post over what America means to me, and what it should be to the world. 

Because the America I grew up believing in?  The one I thought existed?  Yeah.  It died.  I'm not sure how, or when, but it's gone.

What's left?

History repeats.

Two hundred thirty-seven years ago today, our nation was born of a ruler's incompetence and tyranny.  The Declaration of Independence was signed by the delegates of the thirteen colonies, directly stating that the king was not a just ruler, and as such, our fledgling nation had the moral right--nay, imperative--to rebel, and set up a more just system of government.

Somewhere around one hundred years ago, the progressive movement was born, and began to aggregate power unto itself, slowly, ratcheting up their agenda on us like the heat under a frog in a pot of cold water. 

Today, many of the items listed in the Declaration hold true for our current batch of  rulers leaders:

He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people and eat out their substance. (DHS and NSA anybody?)

He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.  (DHS, IRS, SWAT, etc.)

He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power. (A non-military branch with funding and training equal to the military...which still answers to civilian control)

He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:

For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us: (No need for that now--that's what the NSA's PRISM program is for)

For protecting them, by a mock Trial from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States: (Still haven't seen SWAT prosecuted for the murders of innocent victims)

For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent: (the Affordable Care Act was rejected by 67% of American voters.  Had it come to a vote of the people, it never would have passed.  And yes, according to the Supreme Court, it was a tax.)

For depriving us in many cases, of the benefit of Trial by Jury: (Snowden.  Need I say more?)

The water's nearly boiling, folks.  And there's nowhere left to go.

I miss my country.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013


How are the Democrat-Lite party and non-MSM media outlets at fault for the "Affordable" Care Act being pushed back until after midterm elections?  If anyone is at fault for obstructing this horrible law's smooth passage, it's we the people clamping our hands over our assholes, screaming "No, I won't let you people ass-rape me!"

Long day...

We went to my mom's for the day.  Left the kids and went to the same little town as last time, and the same little used bookstore as last time, and wound up embroiled in a discussion with a lot of mutual agreement about politics with the bookstore owner. 

It was a fun afternoon...but the pixie has been sitting in her high chair with the same plate of food in front of her for an entire hour.  She's got three halves of pizza rolls left.  And she only had four pizza rolls (eight halves, for those of you who don't do math) to start with.  The imp put away eight pizza rolls in about twenty minutes.

I think this calls for some hard limeade (partially for the bottle, for bottle rockets tomorrow).

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

I finally figured it out.

The advocates of the Affordable Care Act, in trying to hide the effects that it's going to have on everyone's budget, are acting like a cat trying to cover a pile of poop on a linoleum floor: it shows that they know what they've done wrong, but it's ultimately a futile endeavor. 

I only wish we could rub their noses in it while we beat them with a rolled-up copy of their horrible law.


This is seriously cool: a fisherman caught a 200 year old fish that was living 900 feet below the ocean's surface. 

What isn't cool is this: "critics are fuming that he didn't snap a few amazing selfies and throw the majestic animal back to enjoy its old age in peace reminding us that catch and release is the respectful, humane way to go." 

Okay, idiots.  Let's go over a basic fact, here.  The fish was dead from decompression by the time he'd gotten it halfway up.  If he'd thrown it back, it would have washed up on shore, rotten.  Useless.  Wasted

That strikes me as disrespectful and inhumane. 

Free book!!

I'm going to be offering Survivors for free July 8-12 (Monday through Friday of next week).  If you haven't read it and think you might like to, that's the time to get it.

I'm about ten stories away from finished with a rough draft of the sequel to The Godshead (although, after tonight, I'm hoping that countdown will be set at seven or eight).  After that, I'll be writing The Last Pendragon's sequel.  I hope to have Godshead's sequel ready for publication around Thanksgiving (with a free promo of Godshead about a week prior) , and Resurgent (Pendragon's sequel) ready to go by next April. 

And, like I said, I've got a dozen more novel ideas ready to be written after that. 

No, really?

It takes someone who has no understanding of how hormones work to make the claim that casual sex doesn't have any long-term repercussions to the individuals involved. 

During sex, and especially during orgasm, the hormone oxytocin is released, which prompts emotional bonding.  This happens in both sexes, but is especially pronounced in women.  There are theories that this was an evolutionary developments in humans that resulted in the creation of the stable family unit, which gave offspring a better chance to survive and thrive. 

Casual sex prompts the forming, then breaking, of bonding with partners.  Repeated bonding with different partners dulls the individuals' response to the hormone, which leads to difficulty with creating and maintaining a relationship.

It also causes depression and anxiety in young women. 

Even if the participant manages to avoid STDs and unplanned pregnancy, casual sex is harmful.  Always

Any claim otherwise is an attack on young people in general, and young women in particular. 

Ironic, isn't it, that it's the radical feminists pushing casual sex on young women?

Monday, July 1, 2013


DaddyBear's lovely wife gives a wonderfully stated, beautiful summation of the anger of middle class Americans faced paying for insuring those who aren't worth the space they take up. 

I have had one single employer who offered health insurance.  One.  Only.  And it was my grad school, for whom I was a teaching assistant.  I have paid out of my own pocket for health insurance since then.  We have catastrophe only coverage, with a $10,000 deductible, on a family of four...and it costs us nearly $300/month right now.  I'm sure that's going to spike, soon.  And then we'll also be paying fines for not having insurance compliant with minimum requirements.

I'm ready to say "fuck it," drop insurance entirely, slap the monthly premiums into savings, pay cash for the doctor, dentist, and optometrist (like we do already), and just flat out pay the fine. 

Because my household income doesn't quite come up to the the cost of the plan that the considers minimum allowable without a fine. 

And I'm about ready to start advocating race rioting in the inner cities to cut down on non-taxpaying leeches. 

Thank God for good cops.

This one is one of the best.  Excellent shot, and excellent work, sir. 

(It wouldn't have been a cop that shot the son of a bitch, if it had been my child.  It would have been me.)

Better dead list

2. Bobby Ruiz.  If a man is sent to prison for aggravated assault, and turns around and does the same to a prison guard, just because, then he's a rabid dog that needs to be put down just so that he won't be released eventually.  Because we all know he's going to keep doing it.


This guy wants to ban everything remotely dangerous.  It's simply not possible--life is dangerous.  If he wants everything completely safe in his world, I'd say we ought to oblige him so that he leaves the rest of us alone.

I can think of two ways to do this:

1. Fit him with a feeding tube, an oxygen tube, a catheter, and a colostomy bag, then wrap him in cotton wool from the eyeballs down and strap him to a hospital bed.  That way, his world is safe, and nothing can hurt him.

2. Fit him with a coffin, and inject him with a lethal cocktail.  Nothing can hurt him if he's dead.

Sure. No problem.

Egypt is telling us to keep our money, to stop giving them foreign aid

I'd love to.  Unfortunately, we have a major problem with that.  It's called the federal government.  They can't seem to realize that you can't buy friends

We have friends.  Britain.  Israel.  India.  None of them get any foreign aid.

We also have enemies: Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Iran/Iraq, Kuwait, Ecuador, Venezuela...the list goes on.  One thing I can think of that all of our enemies have in common is that they suck down major amounts of foreign aid.  And that they hate us, either despite or because of that money. 

If we stop trying to buy friendship, maybe we'd have a few more friends. 

Or maybe we'd just be no longer funding enemies.