It's been a while since I bashed those fools in California so I thought I would jump back on the easy target. The low hanging fruit if you will.
Have you noticed the steaming pile of crap that we call California is pretty much burning to the ground lately? Have you noticed that as the fires grew and more and more federal disaster funds were being sucked out of the United States treasury, that the cry for California to exit the union and form their own country have all but dried up?
Seems that now a huge disaster, natural or not remains to be seen, has struck the state of confusion they don't seem to mind being part of the United States anymore. Funny how that works. Think of the money the federal government would have saved if we had gone ahead and built the great California wall on the Arizona and Nevada border with California. I'll bet it would have been cheaper than all the fire fighting support we are sending there now.The construction would have employed thousands of people both US citizens and Californians and all the illegal immigrants they want to admit to their new country. They could actually become a giant sanctuary country!
We would even make money as we could SELL them firefighting aid now. This would easily offset some of the construction costs. We could roll back some of the OSHA safety initiatives as well. Who cares if some of the workers of the NEW California idiot democracy get injured on the job. Their California health system and California Medicaid could handle it. Not the already strained US systems.
Please see my November 10th 2016 posting for more history on my ground breaking idea.
But Chuckie, YOU live in Florida. Isn't there federal money spent in YOUR state as well on disaster aid. Yup you are correct. Personally I don't believe in federal disaster aid. It is just another way the federal government has you under their thumb. Gone are the days before FEMA when people planned for disasters and took care of themselves. Personal responsibility has disappeared and the GOVERNMENT is supposed to take care of us all now.
And sure, Florida gets hit with hurricanes every now and then, however, YOU DON'T HEAR FLORIDIANS CRITICIZING THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT AND WANTING TO PLACE STATEWIDE BALLOT INITIATIVES TO SECEDE FROM THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!
I do feel sorry for the folks who are losing their homes in these terrible uncontrollable infernos. I was in the path of a forest fire when we lived in Flagstaff once and it was terrifying. We were insured and we were ready to evacuate if we had to.
That being said, the point still remains. Being part of a huge country has it's good and bad sides. You take and enjoy the good and tolerate and try and change the bad. Not threaten to leave the entire union.
When will these dumbasses ever learn?
Thursday, August 9, 2018
Tuesday, August 7, 2018
Texting Bastards....
Last night Wifey got out of work a little late. On the way home she called me as she normally does to let me know she was on the road. We chatted about work and how our days had went. She asked what I wanted for dinner. Normally we cook and eat our meals at home as it is so damn expensive to eat out all the time. We decided on Kentucky Fried Chicken. A pretty nice treat for a Monday evening.
Wifey shows up, hands me the KFC bag of goodies and then heads off to change clothes and wash the hospital off of her. I get silverware, plates and towels ready all the things we need to sit down and have a nice peaceful dinner in front of the TV.
About halfway through the evening news the political advertisements begin. More like the uncontrolled shit slinging that now defines our sacred electoral process. A particularly stupid ad then airs showing Ron DeSantis and how proud he is to be endorsed by that asshole Donald Trump. He is building a brick wall with his infant baby, teaching his kid how to read by showing him a Trump poster, blah blah blah. The only saving grace is this two faced slimy politician is married to one of the hottest chicks around. Her name is Casey and she is a gorgeous brunette. She does local commercials and had a local mews magazine show on one of the tripe spewing news stations here in Jacksonville.
The only saving grace is that I can mute the TV and just fantasize about the hot chick who is telling me I am the sexiest guy she has ever seen in my bacon Speedo and how jealous of Wifey she is that Wifey found me first.
While the mute setting is activated, I am jolted out of my aural fantasy by the text alert tone on Wifey's cell phone. We both groan as we fear it is going to be some nonsense from her work day but oh no, It's much worse than that.
IT'S A TEXT WITH A VIDEO FROM THAT ASSHOLE RON DeSANTIS' CAMPAIGN HEADQUARTERS.
How did that son of a bitch get her phone number? It's pretty obvious that somehow these parasitic political vermin checked to see that Wifey is a registered Republican. Then they found out her cell phone number and decided the best way to get us to vote for their candidate was to interrupt our nice quiet dinner and my perverted fantasy with an unsolicited text message. An obnoxious VIDEO message no less.
And there isn't a thing I can legally do about it. When the politicians put through the federal "Do Not Call" legislation where you can supposedly prevent annoying and nuisance telemarketers and their ilk from calling you, they inserted a clause that exempts political organizations. So the same dickheads who supposedly were doing us a favor by limiting the "Robo Calls" from annoying telemarketers went ahead and exempted themselves so they could violate our privacy without consequence.
Does that sound right to you? I unknowingly stopped this crap on my phone by registering as a Libertarian. These jerk-offs are not on my primary ballot. All I have to vote for in this upcoming primary is low budget judicial candidates. After the primaries are over, all bets will be off and I too will have to put up with this unwanted garbage on the cell phone THAT I PAY FOR. There is nothing I can do. Complain the the news media? You cry. That won't work as those whores are fed with the same politician's silver as well. All I can do is stop watching TV or use Amazon Prime Video and/or Netflix.
Wifey and I won't vote for any asshole who calls us to beg for our support at the polls. Maybe I should just send our cell phone bills to these slimeballs who clog up our technical devices with their virulent pablum.
Hell, that won't work either. These elitist peckerheads can't pass a budget for our country let alone pay their own bills. Why should I dream that they would pay for mine?
Wifey shows up, hands me the KFC bag of goodies and then heads off to change clothes and wash the hospital off of her. I get silverware, plates and towels ready all the things we need to sit down and have a nice peaceful dinner in front of the TV.
About halfway through the evening news the political advertisements begin. More like the uncontrolled shit slinging that now defines our sacred electoral process. A particularly stupid ad then airs showing Ron DeSantis and how proud he is to be endorsed by that asshole Donald Trump. He is building a brick wall with his infant baby, teaching his kid how to read by showing him a Trump poster, blah blah blah. The only saving grace is this two faced slimy politician is married to one of the hottest chicks around. Her name is Casey and she is a gorgeous brunette. She does local commercials and had a local mews magazine show on one of the tripe spewing news stations here in Jacksonville.
The only saving grace is that I can mute the TV and just fantasize about the hot chick who is telling me I am the sexiest guy she has ever seen in my bacon Speedo and how jealous of Wifey she is that Wifey found me first.
While the mute setting is activated, I am jolted out of my aural fantasy by the text alert tone on Wifey's cell phone. We both groan as we fear it is going to be some nonsense from her work day but oh no, It's much worse than that.
IT'S A TEXT WITH A VIDEO FROM THAT ASSHOLE RON DeSANTIS' CAMPAIGN HEADQUARTERS.
How did that son of a bitch get her phone number? It's pretty obvious that somehow these parasitic political vermin checked to see that Wifey is a registered Republican. Then they found out her cell phone number and decided the best way to get us to vote for their candidate was to interrupt our nice quiet dinner and my perverted fantasy with an unsolicited text message. An obnoxious VIDEO message no less.
And there isn't a thing I can legally do about it. When the politicians put through the federal "Do Not Call" legislation where you can supposedly prevent annoying and nuisance telemarketers and their ilk from calling you, they inserted a clause that exempts political organizations. So the same dickheads who supposedly were doing us a favor by limiting the "Robo Calls" from annoying telemarketers went ahead and exempted themselves so they could violate our privacy without consequence.
Does that sound right to you? I unknowingly stopped this crap on my phone by registering as a Libertarian. These jerk-offs are not on my primary ballot. All I have to vote for in this upcoming primary is low budget judicial candidates. After the primaries are over, all bets will be off and I too will have to put up with this unwanted garbage on the cell phone THAT I PAY FOR. There is nothing I can do. Complain the the news media? You cry. That won't work as those whores are fed with the same politician's silver as well. All I can do is stop watching TV or use Amazon Prime Video and/or Netflix.
Wifey and I won't vote for any asshole who calls us to beg for our support at the polls. Maybe I should just send our cell phone bills to these slimeballs who clog up our technical devices with their virulent pablum.
Hell, that won't work either. These elitist peckerheads can't pass a budget for our country let alone pay their own bills. Why should I dream that they would pay for mine?
Monday, August 6, 2018
The Safe Return of Chuckie
It seems like it has been almost a year since I last put digits to keyboard for my BLOG. Probably because it HAS been almost a year. I know I know, a keen grasp of the obvious I possess.
The reason is mostly that I have been writing my novel about our vacation and subsequent entrapment in Tortola during Hurricane IRMA. The therapist we were seeing suggested I write down our adventures as a method to come to grips with the PTSD I was suffering from. I was having trouble sleeping and when I did fall asleep I was plagued by horrendous dreams. Things like our boat sinking and my crew and friends getting killed and worse by the hurricane.
Sure I know what you must be thinking, Big tough adventurer Chuckie suffering from PTSD over a little old wind storm?
You bet your sweet ass I was.
Hurricane Irma was the most powerful hurricane ever seen or recorded in the Atlantic basin. The winds that hit the Moorings Marina, where we were hunkering down, were clocked at 208 miles per hour sustained. That was recorded before the eye of the storm came over. The winds may have been higher but the wind instruments were torn off of the building. In the eyewall, the most dangerous part of the storm, there were two tornados swirling about. The National Weather Service doppler RADAR in San Juan Puerto Rico measured those winds at over 385 miles per hour. Two 58 foot catamarans were picked up and thrown around like toys. They each weigh in excess of 40,000 pounds.
After the roof of our shelter/hotel room blew off where we were now looking at the sky, we made our way (crawled over 150 feet) to our safe spot as designated by the marina staff. It was the reinforced classroom where the chart briefings were held. There were about 20 of us hiding in there when the eye of the storm arrived.
It was then the water started to rise.
We evacuated the classroom when the water was knee deep and still rising and fled upstairs to a newer section of the hotel which was oriented more favorably towards the coming backside of the hurricane.
I will spare you the horrific details of some of the uncontrollable panic and reprehensible behavior that occurred while we were fighting for our lives. Needless to say it was pretty ugly.
We lived through the storm and made it home after we were trapped in the marina complex for a week. The Moorings did an amazing job of feeding us and protecting us from the terrifying situation that was taking place on the island. The Moorings fed us, sheltered us, liquored us up and kept us informed constantly, they even chartered a plane from Jamaica to fly in and evacuate us to Puerto Rico.
When we arrived home we found that Sunsail (The Moorings) had even credited us for the sailing time we missed because of the storm!
And yes, it was so horrific of an experience that it has taken me almost a year to get over it.
We went back to Tortola about a month and a half ago.
The island is still in serious disrepair. The people are doing everything they can to try and return their lives to normal. Imagine your house being destroyed to the point that you couldn't find it. Some of these peoples houses were so damaged that the concrete slabs the buildings sat on were torn from the ground and blown away. Sounds crazy and like bullshit doesn't it? Trust me it wasn't. I was there. I saw it.
So I will be Blogging more now. The political season is upon us and there is so much insane shit going on that I could type for days about it all.
As for my novel? Well, it will never be published. No one will ever see it. There is a lot of personal stuff written in there. Lots of dark and nasty things about people I thought I once knew and cared for. Their unforgivable behavior and actions are documented in their entirety and there is no need to bring those incidents to light again. I am sure they have, and are, suffering as much as I have.
Just get me drunk sometime. I'm pretty sure I will freely spew all that ugly nonsense then!
The reason is mostly that I have been writing my novel about our vacation and subsequent entrapment in Tortola during Hurricane IRMA. The therapist we were seeing suggested I write down our adventures as a method to come to grips with the PTSD I was suffering from. I was having trouble sleeping and when I did fall asleep I was plagued by horrendous dreams. Things like our boat sinking and my crew and friends getting killed and worse by the hurricane.
Sure I know what you must be thinking, Big tough adventurer Chuckie suffering from PTSD over a little old wind storm?
You bet your sweet ass I was.
Hurricane Irma was the most powerful hurricane ever seen or recorded in the Atlantic basin. The winds that hit the Moorings Marina, where we were hunkering down, were clocked at 208 miles per hour sustained. That was recorded before the eye of the storm came over. The winds may have been higher but the wind instruments were torn off of the building. In the eyewall, the most dangerous part of the storm, there were two tornados swirling about. The National Weather Service doppler RADAR in San Juan Puerto Rico measured those winds at over 385 miles per hour. Two 58 foot catamarans were picked up and thrown around like toys. They each weigh in excess of 40,000 pounds.
After the roof of our shelter/hotel room blew off where we were now looking at the sky, we made our way (crawled over 150 feet) to our safe spot as designated by the marina staff. It was the reinforced classroom where the chart briefings were held. There were about 20 of us hiding in there when the eye of the storm arrived.
It was then the water started to rise.
We evacuated the classroom when the water was knee deep and still rising and fled upstairs to a newer section of the hotel which was oriented more favorably towards the coming backside of the hurricane.
I will spare you the horrific details of some of the uncontrollable panic and reprehensible behavior that occurred while we were fighting for our lives. Needless to say it was pretty ugly.
We lived through the storm and made it home after we were trapped in the marina complex for a week. The Moorings did an amazing job of feeding us and protecting us from the terrifying situation that was taking place on the island. The Moorings fed us, sheltered us, liquored us up and kept us informed constantly, they even chartered a plane from Jamaica to fly in and evacuate us to Puerto Rico.
When we arrived home we found that Sunsail (The Moorings) had even credited us for the sailing time we missed because of the storm!
And yes, it was so horrific of an experience that it has taken me almost a year to get over it.
We went back to Tortola about a month and a half ago.
The island is still in serious disrepair. The people are doing everything they can to try and return their lives to normal. Imagine your house being destroyed to the point that you couldn't find it. Some of these peoples houses were so damaged that the concrete slabs the buildings sat on were torn from the ground and blown away. Sounds crazy and like bullshit doesn't it? Trust me it wasn't. I was there. I saw it.
So I will be Blogging more now. The political season is upon us and there is so much insane shit going on that I could type for days about it all.
As for my novel? Well, it will never be published. No one will ever see it. There is a lot of personal stuff written in there. Lots of dark and nasty things about people I thought I once knew and cared for. Their unforgivable behavior and actions are documented in their entirety and there is no need to bring those incidents to light again. I am sure they have, and are, suffering as much as I have.
Just get me drunk sometime. I'm pretty sure I will freely spew all that ugly nonsense then!
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