Regarding the previous post

Then God said, “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”   Gen. 1:26

The way God drew up the plans, man would have dominion over all the critters.  Man could say "Hey, Lion!  Fetch me a Mountain Dew!" and the lion, if it knew what a Mountain Dew was, would do it.  Pretty cool, eh?

That was in Genesis, chapter 1.  Then man sinned and everything went kaflooey.  When man sinned and fell, man lost that dominion.  Man was the pinnacle of the material Creation, and when man fell, everything below also fell.  Rebellion happened (and continues to happen) at all levels of creation because of man's failure.  That's why I can't play with crocodiles and the lion won't fetch me that stupid can of Mountain Dew, no matter how nicely I ask him.

Now I don't have a Scriptural backing for my theory, but I believe doggies are "less fallen" than most of the other critters because they (usually) heed man.  They still pretty much recognize Man's dominion.  Treat a doggie even halfway decent and he'll do anything for you.  A little food and a little attention and that doggie will face the lion for you.  That's what makes the subject of that previous post so thoroughly disgusting and angering.  Our troops are getting shot at and being killed trying to save people who have no problem at all with cruelly maiming the least fallen of all the critters.  Sickening.

⁶ “ The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb,
      The leopard shall lie down with the young goat,
      The calf and the young lion and the fatling together;
      And a little child shall lead them.
       ⁷ The cow and the bear shall graze;
      Their young ones shall lie down together;
      And the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
       ⁸ The nursing child shall play by the cobra’s hole,
      And the weaned child shall put his hand in the viper’s den.
       ⁹ They shall not hurt nor destroy in all My holy mountain,
      For the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD
      As the waters cover the sea.                     Isaiah 11:6-9

Do not click

DO NOT CLICK ON THE FOLLOWING LINK.  SERIOUSLY.  DO NOT CLICK THIS [100 REALLY BAD WORDS REDACTED] LINK.

HOLY [REDACTED]!

PLEASE, PLEASE, GIMME A SHORT LENGTH OF PIPE AND PUT ME IN A DARK ALLEY WITH THOSE [MANY FOUL WORDS REDACTED] SO-CALLED "PEOPLE"

Announcement

I've been added as a contributor at Trestin's Don't Tread On Us.  Not sure what I'll do yet in terms my writing.  May just cross-post stuff over there, or I may split my attempts at humor from my attempts at Serious Commentary^TM.  Either way, stick Don't Tread On Us in your feeder, your follow list, your bookmarks, the post-it note taped to your monitor, or however it is that you keep track of your favorite sites.

There Can Only Be One

On a nondescript stretch of highway in New Hampshire, campaign buses pass each other by going in opposite directions...

[Romney] "That's him!  Turn around"

The bus driver dutifully complies.

[Romney] "Step on it!  Catch up to that other bus!"

After a few miles, Romney's bus is right behind the other.  Romney reaches past the driver and grabs the little chain to sound the bus' air horn.  **BRAAAAAA**  The leading bus pulls over at a scenic viewpoint on the road and the second bus pulls in behind.

[Gov. Perry, stepping out of lead bus] "Y'all better start 'splaining whart's goin' on.  If you pulled us over for anythin' less than to warn me of my bus bein' on far and ready to 'splode, thar's gonna be a heap o' trouble."

[Romney] "No, that's not it at all.  I think, I think, well, how to explain this..." [Holds up picture of three persons' hair]

[Romney, continuing] "See, we each have very Reaganesque hair.  Placed next to each other, they are nearly indistinguishable.  Hence, I suggest that we not fight each other.  Instead, you should be my running mate, and our campaign slogan can be 'Hair Apparent to the Mantle of Reagan: Romney/Perry 2012'. I think the little play on heir/hair is cute and will really resonate with the electorate."

[Perry] "The only thing resonatin' is my brain.  'Cuz listenin' through all the stupid in you little spiel there made my brain shrink and now it's bouncin' off the insides of my skull.  Let's pick this apart: first of all, me 'n Dutch Reagan part our hair on the right.  'Cuz "Right" is like our dee-fault settin' for just about ever'thin'.  Y'all parts yours on the left and try to drag it all over to the right but y'all ain't convincin' nobody with all that.  Secondly, yer hair looks like the roadkill I use to bait the coyote traps.  Thirdly..."

[Romney interrupts] "Let's not be like that, picking each other apart.  We have too much in common.  We've both been governors.  We both have fabulous hair.  We, umm, we... We both have pick-up trucks...  We're like that episode of Star Trek where there were those two guys.  They were painted half black and half white.  Well, the other guy was half white and half black.  See, they thought they were polar opposites of each other, but they were really the same.  When they touched each other there would be these ZzZZZz electrical sounds and sparks would fly but they really should have been natural allies.  Like us."

[Perry] "Naw, we are total opp'sites:  While you was watchin' Star Trek and sippin' your Roy Rogers at the Hamptons with your rich daddy, I was picking cotton and killin' feral hogs with a butterknife 'cuz we couldn't afford a proper hog-killin' knife."

[Romney, imploringly] "But that's the point!  Together, you as my running mate, we could appeal to EVERYBODY!"

[Perry] "Y'all must realize that ever'thin you're sayin' would also be true with me at the top of the ticket."

[Romney, face turning ugly with rage] "NO!  NO! A thousand times NO!  *I* am the one who pissed through millions of his own dough last time.  *I* am the one who has been campaigning all this time.  Plus, the Establishment said that *I* am up.  It is MY turn!"

[Romney lunges forward and grabs Perry by the shoulders] "ZzZZZz!  ZzZZZz!  There. Can. Only. Be. One.! ZzZZZz!  ZzZZZz!"

[Perry brushes Romney's hands away] "No man has ever put his hands on me uninvited and lived to tell the tale.  Wait.  That sounds kinda bad.  It's not like I ever invite men to touch me.  I'm talkin' 'bout guys like the doc that fixed my back a while back.  That's OK.  But I'll make a 'ception for you this time since I don't much feel like 'splaining at the next debate how I had to kill ya and then use your bones to build a raised flarbed for my wife's yeller roses."

[Romney] "Thanks...  I think."

Perry, executing a quick-draw, pulls out his Desert Eagle and fires a round off to Romney's side.

[Romney, freaking out] "What the heck was that all about??!?!"

[Perry] "There was a three-legged snark sneakin' up behind y'all.  Them's venomous as hell and woulda killed ya right quick.  I just saved yer life.  So just get yourself back in the bus and think real hard about being my veep."

A day of firsts

First IV...
First blood drawn...
First time I've ever used my health insurance...
First time I've ever gone to the ER for anything but stitches...

My Daughter-in-Law and grandkid are staying with us for a while.  Late last week both DiL and GK got the pukey squirt misery.  It lasted a day and a half or so, then both were fine.  Then Saturday in the middle of the night I got the pukey squirt misery.  It persisted through Sunday and I was feeling just kind of meh on Monday but I made it through the workday.  Yesterday was trending towards normal.  Ate some of the usual junk food and no dramatic aftereffects.

Awakened this morning by belly pains that felt like a bad gas bubble.  Which got worse.  And worse.  Next thing ya know, I can barely breathe - the pain would override any attempt to really inhale.  So I'm sitting there panting shallowly and I finally decide it's time to head to the ER.

Normally, I don't give a crap about pain.  That may sound like a bunch of macho hoo-haa, but it is true.  It is amazing how one's body can heal from things even without assistance from the medical profession.  I need to be in some pretty bad shape to go to the doc - in fact, today's visit was only the fifth time I've seen a doc since Reagan was president.  And two of those visits were just routine check-ups I had to have on file to maintain my CDL.  Back in the early '90s I got bucked off my mountain bike and broke *something* in my left shoulder and didn't even bother to see a doc for it.  Piss on all that, it's only pain.  That shoulder still clicks and pops and does annoying stuff, but pretty much healed.  What I'm saying is that I just don't go to the doctor if it's only pain.

But today was different.  I was convinced that something was perforated/torn/ruptured/obstructed in my gut, and that they'd have to cut on me to fix it.  Ugh.  To start things off they gave me some fluids and pain meds through the IV.  The nurse cautioned that "you make a weird taste in you mouth" and she was right - it tasted just like a brand new pack of band-aids smells.  Screwy.  After the pain had abated enough for the doc to poke and prod, he proceeded to poke and prod.  Then some X-Rays.  Then some bloodwork.  White count came back a bit high, but not alarmingly so.  X-Rays showed nuthin'.  A couple hours later I was sent home.  The gut-ache never really came back.  Still hurts a little, but it is more of a "day after the table saw kicked a piece of wood back into your stomach" pain than a "holy craparoni, this is serious!" kind of pain.

So, for my $100 co-pay I have a sore spot on my hand where they put the IV and a lingering mild tummyache...

I shouldn't have bothered...

Cool sticker

I just saw this sticker for the first time on the back of a Jeep here in town.  Did a little googlin' and found them available at http://www.thevastconspiracy.com/ along with some other cool ones.  I like their "Bad Liberal - No Foodstamps!" one quite a bit, too.

Michelle my Belle in Corvallis

Wanna see me make an entire turkey leg disappear?

Amusing Bunni was right the other day...  She warned my that Michelle would be nearby.  I thought she was only going to be in Eugene - a place I routinely avoid anyway.  But nooooooooo...

She had to come here to Cowvallis.  And all the local "news" is fawning admiration.  Ugh.  Glad she chose to have lunch at del Alma, a place which is way to froo-froo for this kid.  Very little risk of an uncomfortable confrontation as long as she sticks to places like and I stick to my usual diet of convenience store hotdogs.

At least until she makes convenience store hotdogs illegal.

True to my word

Per Norman Pennywise's suggestion, I have created the Official Membership Roll of the Terrible Terrifying TeaHobbit Alliance.  It appears at the top of the left column.  Which also reminds me that I need to update the rest of the blogroll.  If your blog has been dormant for a while, it risks being removed.  And you don't want that.  Being removed from the blogroll of a guy hobbit that gets about 35 hits/day would be very bad.  Like having your company de-listed on the NYSE.  Very humiliating.  So turn your blog back on and post something, K?

Heh heh hehheheheheh

Heh heh democrats suck heh unions, too.  Heh

The recall elections in Wisconsin.  Heh heh.  Republicans hold the state Senate.  Heh.  This, on top of Feingold losing, that nasty Judge Kloppenhoof (or whatever her name is) losing to Prosser, and Gov. Walker's reforms being upheld.  Heh heh.

The dem/union alliance outspent Team R by 2-1, and had over 8000 volunteers.  AND STILL LOST!  Heh heh heheheh heh.  All I have to say is "Thanks, dems!  Thanks, unionistas!  You dumped MILLIONS of dollars into Wisconsin's economy in this recall effort.  Heh.  And all ya got to show for it are blisters on your stinky sandal-clad feets.  Heh heh heh!  All that money you spent is going to boost Wisconsin's economy and make Gov. Walker look even better.  Heh heh.   And you have to defend your fleebaggin' selves from losing two more seats in next week's recall elections!  Heh heh heh heh."

This reminds me of a few months back when the Canadian libs voted "no confidence" in PM Harper.  In the subsequent elections, the Conservatives *gained* seats and ended up with a bigger majority than before.  Heh heh heh.

Anyway, Wisconsonites, Wisconsonians, cheeseheads - whatever form of address you prefer - just a reminder that in about a month my Beavs play your Badgers.  So when I say Bad Things about you that week, remember, it's just a game.  Heh heh heh.

Jeeee-haaawwwd!

My faithful friends, I am Bubba bin Bubba Al-Bubbá and I have finally hacked into innominatus' blogger.  I can now post freely.  OK, I didn't really hack it.  I'm not exactly the sharpest card in the deck.  No way I could figger out any of that hackery stuff.  He just walked away without logging out so I figgered I should be able to post here real quickety like before he comes back...

Anyways, how's things with you?  As you can see, my beard is pretty scraggly from that incident on the 4th of Jooo-lie.  Since none y'all have seen me in a while, lemme tell ya how it went down...

I went to the Wal-Martyr and bought the largest pack of farworks I could git, a 3-pack of tennis balls and a bunch of them strike-anywhar matches.  First off, I got to whittlin' the strikey parts off the matches.  I was partsway done when an ember off my Marlboro landed right in the middlin' part of 'em and foosh! my beard is on far.  Dang.  Had to go down to the 7-11 and buy some more matches from that dang polytheist Apu guy.  So after a good long afternoon of whittlin' and beer tippin', I had me a pretty goodly amount of matchheads.

Then I used my Buck knife to gouge a hole in the tennis balls, into which I perceeded to cram the matchheads.  The plan was two-fold: have me some farworks fun and also maybe set the synagogue on fire from a safe distance.  Then I started takin' all them fireworks apart.  I was fixin' to use the guts of 'em as a propellant for my home-brew mortar, 'cuz Larry at the sportin' goods store won't sell me no more gunpowder.  I needed to borrow a piece of tennis-ball sized pipe from cousin Abdul, so he brought it over.  But then allvasudden Abdul's goin' on about Joooos in NASCAR.  I told him there ain't no Jooos in NASCAR, 'cept maybe some car owners.  And he says what about the Joe Nemechek guy.  "Y'all tryin' to tell me that 'Nemechek' ain't no Jooosh name?"  I tell him "Naw, I'm purdy sure he's just from, like, Korea or somethin'. 

We spent most of the day arguing 'bout Jooos takin' over NASCAR.  There just ain't no convincin' him.  Time I coulda spent unravelin' farcrackers to get the powder out 'em got wasted bickerin' with Abdul.  Aller willin' and the seas don't rise, someday I will talk some sense into that boy.

Anyways, I ended up missing the whole 4th 'cuz that pack o' farworks was so dang big.  But by the evenin' of the 5th, though, I had 'em all dissected and the powder extracted and it was finally time for some fun.  I drove down the road a ways and parked a couple blocks from the synagogue.  I figgered I was just about in range.  As I was settin' up my mortar, along come some car with gubmint plates.  Out step some guy dressed like the Men in Black.  He yells at me "DHS!  DHS!  Drop the mortar!"

And I said "I ain't no terrorist.  I'm a faithful pracktishner of the religion of peace."

"Hmmm....  You're a peaceful muslim, but you're also one of those dangerous rednecks" the agent mumbled.  Then he stood there lookin' all confused, like a smallmouth that just swallered a rubber worm.  He dint know what to do.  "Don't move while I call my supervisor."

I sprung inta action.  I aimed my mortar at his junk drawer and yelled "Glory to Aller!"  Then I pulled the trigger.  Unfortunately, I acted kinda rashly there.  See, the mortar didn't have a breechblock to speak of.  The butt end was s'posed to be just stuck in the ground.  Without the butt in the ground, well, the backfire from it hit me right in my toolbox.  Then my dang beard caught far.  Again.  Dang.  And the tennis ball just kinda rolled harmlessly out the muzzle.  But in the midst of all that confusion I was able to jump in my F-250 and get away.

Aw, crap.  Here comes that innominatus guy.  Better go...

You can't beat this so don't even try

 

The mildest summer I can ever remember continues unabated.  Last few days there've been low clouds come in from the coast that take 'til about noon to burn off.  Then the afternoons are NICE.  And if that ain't enough, a while back the NYT did a study of safest places to live with regard to natural disasters.  Out of 379 metropolitan areas, my town of Corvallis is the safest! (Safe link to iOTW for the NYT-averse).

So if you're tired of sweltering, flooding, having your roof blown off or everything around you burning to the ground in a wildfire, you should move up here.  We can build a walled compound separate from all the Prius drivers that reside here and, like, have us a good ol' time. 

R.I.P. SEALs and helo crew

Some Taliban protohuman got lucky and hit one of our helicopters.  Some say it was an with RPG, others speculate that it was a real surface-to-air missile.  Facts aren't all in yet.  But it was a chopper full of SEALs along the the helo crew and some Afghani locals.  The biggest loss of life in any one incidence in the history of the SEALs. 

** Horrible!! **

Image from wikipedia

I idealize America as rather like a beehive: basically a bunch of industrious people getting things done and not bothering anybody.  We come and go; we produce and consume.  In the course of just getting things done, we (almost inadvertently) improve things around us.  The bee, just looking for food, does the flowers great service without even knowing it.  Pollination happens and multiplication follows.  One flower becomes a field of flowers.  Americans offer the entire world a Great Marketplace where things can be exchanged.  Quality of life for both Americans and others is improved.  Like a pharmacologist who toiled making a new drug just wants to get paid his due wages, but a little kid in Africa is cured by that pharmacologist's work.  Do you see what I mean?  Just let us do our thing and we all stand to benefit. 

So the bee pollinates the plant and the birds and the deer eat the fruit that results from the bee's work.  The bee and the bird and the deer all get along fine and mostly ignore each other.  There is balance and there is abundance.  As long as nobody screws with the bee.  Screw with the bee and things change.  The bee doesn't recall its ambassadors.  The bee doesn't seek a bipartisan solution.  The bee doesn't give a half a crap about proportionate response.  Screw with the bee just a little, and now you're in a fight to the death.  Screw with the bee hive and the response is even more dramatic.  The bees will make sure that the one who molests the hive pays dearly.  The bee hive gains a reputation as "something you just don't screw with."  The bees' very ferocity means they don't have to be ferocious very often.  People and critters alike just learn not to screw with the bees.

Therefore, peaceful coexistence is the usual order of things.

That's where I'm at with the War on Terror.  I no longer give half a crap about proportionate response.  Which is just newspeak for "tit-for-tat."  I am not in favor of trading our guys for theirs.  I am in favor of Grossly Disproportionate Response.  We have the means to utterly destroy every place the Taliban might be hiding.  There is no good reason for our nation's best to be making themselves vulnerable to ground fire from wife-beating cavemen.  There is no good reason to be engaging the Taliban "at their level."  There is no good reason for this to be a battle between guys-with-guns against other guys-with-guns.  While our guys-with-guns are exceptionally well trained, well equipped and well disciplined and their guys-with-guns are morons, sometimes the morons get lucky.

Enough!

Bomb.  Bomb.  Punish.  Bomb.  Show the world what happens when the American beehive is screwed with.  What about all the non-combatants who will be killed or injured?  Isn't that totally inhumane and unjust?  Two kids are standing next to the beehive when one kid whacks it with a stick.  The bees come out and sting both.  Only one kid is truly guilty but they both feel the pain.  So it should be in dealing with terrorists.  Let the non-combatants say to themselves "We need to get these terrorists out of here before America destroys our entire village!"  The price of hanging out with kids who whack bees' nests is pain.  The price of abetting or even tolerating terrorist activity must also be pain.  If the price of tolerating terrorists is just a "friendly American presence that provides security and sometimes shoots bad guys" then the population will tolerate terrorists in their midst forever.  And our guys will continue dying forever.  Unacceptable.  Make a vicious, bloody example of these troglodytes and in the long run the will actually be less blood shed.

Belated Birthday Wishes

Hey, sorry, Barry!  Got kinda busy yesterday and didn't celebrate your birfday.  So, better nate than lever, eh?

C'mon, let's sing!

Happy Birfday to you
Happy Birfday you boob
Happy Birfday you vindictive meddlesome annoying jug-eared jerk
Happy Birfday boo hoo!!!!!

Careful!  No spitting on the cake when you blow out your candle!

Politically Incorrect Inbox Goodie

From aA:

I was sitting at a traffic light on the highway, yesterday, next to a carload of Muslims, when a big semi-trailer drove right over the top of their car!

"Wow!" I thought, "That could've been me!"....

So I went and got a commercial truck driver's license!

My precious terroristy hobbitses

Pictured: James Carville on New Year's Eve after a fifth of Yukon Jack.
He has nothing to do with this issue, but this post just didn't seem complete without a picture of him.

Whether you like this debt ceiling deal or not, it sure is fun to see the leftoids getting thistles in their knickers about it.  The name-calling is getting pretty intense.  We've graduated from being "teabaggers" to "hobbits" and now to "terrorists."  Which is bullhockey.  How do I know?  If I were a real terrorist, the leftards would d*mn sure be appeasing me instead of pissing me off, that's how. 

But anyway.  I'm not so upset by it.  In fact, I'm going to Yankee Doodle this thing and embrace it, just to annoy 'em further.  With that in mind, I will henceforth be known as

Innomihobbit the Impaler.

I suggest you claim your own nom d'hobbit in the comments before all the cool ones are taken.

**UPDATE:

Norman Pennywise is spreading the word.  Thank you!  He also nominates me to be the Offical Registrar of Tea Hobbit Names.  OK.  I'll do it.  I'll catalog your Hobbit Handle and defend it from interlopers.  And if you send me just three easy payments of $39.99 (+s&h) I might even send you a commemorative coin and a certificate of authenticity and some steak knives.