tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-153760202024-03-23T12:46:25.385-05:00Alamo Land"I wish I was a catfish...swimmin' the deep blue sea. 'Cause then I'd have all you pretty little women...fishin' after me."Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger731125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-43031158643281326222024-01-27T06:46:00.002-06:002024-01-27T06:46:33.562-06:00Well, Now<p>A year and some change since my last post and I decided to visit it again.</p><p>I see no one from the old blogger days comes by anymore. Shame. I keep in touch with a few of you, but the vast majority of people have abandoned their blogs.</p><p>I'll be retiring this year for good. I plan on enjoying the rest of my life traveling and spending time with my beautiful Trish. I can't wait.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-74326130280861251762022-10-22T07:52:00.001-05:002022-10-22T07:52:02.947-05:00Been a While<p> Yeah, I still have this blog. I don't post much in it anymore, and just about all of my old blogging friends have moved on and/or have disappeared.</p><p>I was sorting through some of my bazillion cell phone pics this morning and came across a few from the <a href="https://ravingsfromsanantonio.blogspot.com/2015/03/fire-update.html">2015 house fire</a>. As is usually the case, I felt a pit in my stomach, thinking about everything I lost. I'm not sure I'll ever get over it. I'm good at staving it off 99% of the time, but every so often something comes up that reminds me of it and it hurts me to the core.</p><p>Hope any of you fuckers who are still around and/or doing blogging are well.</p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-11129064583971445982022-02-20T08:19:00.002-06:002022-02-20T08:19:30.679-06:00Hello There<p> Wow...It's been a while since I've posted anything here. Any of my old blog buddies still doing this? It was a really fund time for a number of years. I kinda miss it.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-41864664517702803772016-05-06T20:45:00.001-05:002016-05-06T20:45:21.221-05:00Ahhhh...It's Friday night and I'm sipping whiskey, watching TV. We (rather, she) just got done watching an old Adele concert on NBC. I surfed the web and was struck by how sad her music is. That, combined with impending mothers day made me feel a little down in the dumps. But...It's over, so I'm better.<br />
<br />
For my three loyal readers - We're back in the house. Last night was the first night we spent in it. The house burned down on 23 January 2015. It's odd to be in here again...same floor plan, just a lot of new stuff. Well...not a lot, but different stuff.<br />
<br />
My uncle died a few weeks ago - The end of an era. The last of his and my mom's generation in the family. I sure don't feel like the mature older generation. Is it just me, or did our parents seem so much more sensible and mature than us? I wonder if my kids think that of me.<br />
<br />
Anyway...oh yeah. I have another daughter. Not a new daughter, but a found daughter. She's 33 and I paid for a DNA test that verified paternity. She's a sweetheart and we've hit it off nicely. I'll be flying her out here in July or August or so for a visit. So...Three wonderful children now.<br />
<br />
That is all. Carry on and live your life happily.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-81004558787746169282016-03-19T12:44:00.003-05:002016-03-19T12:50:30.382-05:00Three Word Wednesday<div align="justify">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlvW-8oDN6h9UuHw6SbK-xMYWfp_6m77adtlc5cMmwL3SU6_byZaMYd02dnmnQktxQWEOV9807X2oItiswiPi3DOZvBw2w5U05lnyauzBsi7DgQurj2WpBSJMfalC1XgH9l5f/s1600/3WW.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475513312570616226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlvW-8oDN6h9UuHw6SbK-xMYWfp_6m77adtlc5cMmwL3SU6_byZaMYd02dnmnQktxQWEOV9807X2oItiswiPi3DOZvBw2w5U05lnyauzBsi7DgQurj2WpBSJMfalC1XgH9l5f/s400/3WW.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 119px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 130px;" /></a></div>
<a href="http://ravingsfromsanantonio.blogspot.com/search/label/3WW"><span style="font-size: 100%;"></span></a><span style="font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"></span></span></span><br />
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;">The rules, if you wanna call 'em that, are <a href="http://www.threewordwednesday.com/">here</a>.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;">
</span><span style="color: black;"><em><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></em></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><u>Today's Words</u>:<em> Uncovored, Vacant, Abrupt</em></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><em><br /></em></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: 100%;"></span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The cook <span style="color: #990000;">uncovered </span>the Dutch oven, poured in the
blended tomatillo sauce, and re-covered it quickly. The <span style="color: #990000;">abrupt </span>addition of salsa verde to a blistering-hot,
glistening, thin layer of canola oil causes a steamy, spattering eruption of hot green lava,
and a lot of pain if not done rapidly. The thick little
canoe-shaped boats of grilled cornmeal <a href="http://www.cooksinfo.com/edible.nsf/images/chalupas-recipe/$file/chalupas-unfilled.jpg" target="_blank">chalupas</a> sat <span style="color: #990000;">vacant</span>, waiting for the concoction
that would soon be puerco verde.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-83156903264954764232016-01-23T08:03:00.001-06:002016-01-23T08:03:14.962-06:00Anniversary<div style="text-align: justify;">
One year ago today, at about 1:15pm, I got a call at work from the security/alarm company that there were glass-break and fire alarms going off in the house. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The next 15 minutes were spent in my car driving home at 120mph. I watched our home and all our possessions, including two precious cats, irreplaceable family heirlooms, burn. It was horrendous.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today I feel better than then, obviously, but there is still a piece of my heart missing.</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhnb0br5d6z4GeuG8bpgQT1hw1Jeor5niKCXjz8f0loKnycHFIVyZrx5AcHTQOt2hpAkBWfv5tp4Psnre6iBqQvAv_7z0m5K-d91uLyxET2pK-ks1VjPOeAG8SQOzvxnYXwxu/s1600/firesmall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQhnb0br5d6z4GeuG8bpgQT1hw1Jeor5niKCXjz8f0loKnycHFIVyZrx5AcHTQOt2hpAkBWfv5tp4Psnre6iBqQvAv_7z0m5K-d91uLyxET2pK-ks1VjPOeAG8SQOzvxnYXwxu/s320/firesmall.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A shot I took with my cell phone<br />
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS34EWwfojHhhk6HPZhJW9pp6H7Gzpzuvv6tTbLdGSK3tdCpSJVur4iFBLskF40oN8ycmhhsx_nzx0MKAIUnI1DV7ZcV09jpT-dkAnNyiou6IGL3KNL_lm-ljcBLNxkB5aa-xt/s1600/firesmall3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS34EWwfojHhhk6HPZhJW9pp6H7Gzpzuvv6tTbLdGSK3tdCpSJVur4iFBLskF40oN8ycmhhsx_nzx0MKAIUnI1DV7ZcV09jpT-dkAnNyiou6IGL3KNL_lm-ljcBLNxkB5aa-xt/s320/firesmall3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A shot through our living room<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFC8EGzH1Y7vdi1lJlrtMEHRpHnURlfEbWWHUqnkLSlsxpkf__ixnMufdbiGp5qjeaLCEclDG2lJl42oKnArKprGKA4HIoeQLsGVOXsdXBQW1uV_zql540uz8bEQbeL1FS3dcj/s1600/firesmall2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFC8EGzH1Y7vdi1lJlrtMEHRpHnURlfEbWWHUqnkLSlsxpkf__ixnMufdbiGp5qjeaLCEclDG2lJl42oKnArKprGKA4HIoeQLsGVOXsdXBQW1uV_zql540uz8bEQbeL1FS3dcj/s320/firesmall2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Firefighters in the master bedroom<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMUf0RfRJpxdOSLNZOYcrmCdH26lIUkyLhWsgRDnMzW1Hms08A8WIJbGbHFzUtc9tXlTnsa0iiKRipA4HwSdxj7QY7oe69K4m8cut_cPRW6JnvTaYo2pZQW9FRHZgFJsVLexfu/s1600/firesmall4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMUf0RfRJpxdOSLNZOYcrmCdH26lIUkyLhWsgRDnMzW1Hms08A8WIJbGbHFzUtc9tXlTnsa0iiKRipA4HwSdxj7QY7oe69K4m8cut_cPRW6JnvTaYo2pZQW9FRHZgFJsVLexfu/s320/firesmall4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After demolition - Shot by my neighbor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-28814507277281857512016-01-18T07:54:00.000-06:002016-01-18T07:54:05.550-06:00The Golden Prick<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Last year, supreme douche Benjamin Golden attacked an Uber
driver. You’ve probably all saw it on
the interwebs. In November he whined to
the press:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“It’s not me in the video. It was hard to watch. I’m
ashamed.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“I didn’t know what happened until I saw this video.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
“Everything’s fallen apart, and it’s my own doing.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Now the piece of shit is actually suing the Uber driver he
beat the shit out of for $5 million because the video was recorded without his
consent. The eyes-too-close-together Neanderthal
fuck is also saying that the Uber driver he pummeled is to blame for being
assaulted. And if that isn’t
unbelievable enough, Golden also says that, because of “overwhelming media
coverage” of the video, he’s “suffered severe emotional distress, humiliation,
anxiety, fear, pain and suffering and the loss of his job,” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Mr. Golden – You are an amazing shit bag. You get drunk, pummel someone, cry that you
were at fault and ashamed…then you end up claiming it was the victim’s fault? You’re one of those “people” the world would
be better off without. You are an aberration
in genetics – A mistake. Please do us
all a favor and just wade out into the ocean and disappear forever. Fuck you.<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-54466324928472037342015-11-24T04:16:00.002-06:002015-11-24T04:16:29.778-06:00Euthanize Euric Cain<br />
<br />
<a href="http://abcnews.go.com/US/suspect-arrested-orleans-med-student-shooting/story?id=35356883">This </a>animal, Euric Cain, should be exterminated, as should anyone who kills or attempts to kill anyone else when that killing is not self-defense or the defense of others.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-32496984571901335312015-09-12T06:13:00.003-05:002015-09-12T06:13:38.606-05:00FiddythreeWell, I'm 53 years old today. Holy shit. Who woulda thunk I'd make it this far! :-)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-73232248348907931882015-08-02T10:43:00.001-05:002015-08-05T04:39:27.553-05:00Walter PalmerI cannot fathom how someone takes pleasure in <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=%22walter+palmer%22&num=50&newwindow=1&es_sm=122&source=lnms&tbm=nws&sa=X&ved=0CAcQ_AUoAWoVChMI2pf25tuKxwIVCU-SCh2VGAnn&biw=1536&bih=758">killing</a> and animal for sport - Especially protected animals.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Walter Palmer is a despicable excuse for a human being. I have so much to say, but it really isn't anything more than zillions of others have already said. Go to hell, Walter. I hope your business fails, and that life takes a big ol' shit on you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-52038559031154126242015-07-29T04:37:00.002-05:002015-07-29T04:37:56.565-05:00Post Fire<div style="text-align: justify;">
Everything with the rebuilding is coming along, and we're both looking forward so as not to feel shitty. Looking back hurts. Thinking about all the family heirlooms, material shit we liked, and our little kitties hurts too much.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Despite my best efforts, I'm occasionally run over by memories of our old home and everything we held dear....and it's painful. Fortunately, I'm able to put it out of my head relatively quickly, but still...It's still fresh, and as painful as it ever was.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-87672526216307072312015-03-15T15:04:00.002-05:002015-03-15T15:04:58.402-05:00CookingI did a bit of cooking today and needed something I didn't have...something that burned up with the house. You don't realize how much you had until you lost it...<br />
<br />
Small food processor<br />
Large food processor<br />
Hand chopper<br />
Mandolin<br />
Kitchen Aid Mixer<br />
Coffee grinder<br />
Pots<br />
Pans<br />
Flavored salt<br />
A shitload of saffron<br />
Good knives<br />
Tons of spices<br />
All our family recipes<br />
Cook books<br />
An old ceramic artichoke<br />
Wooden chopping bowls<br />
Mezzaluna (Chopper)<br />
Zester<br />
Thermometers<br />
Deep fryer<br />
<br />
Etc, etc. etc.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-58263033326834301642015-03-09T04:04:00.000-05:002015-03-10T05:12:08.893-05:00Fire Update<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
It’s been over a month since the house burned down and it’s
still unbelievable to me. We lost
everything. Everything that survived the
fire fit into half of a 10x15ft storage unit, and the back of a friend’s
Cherokee. I’m doing better emotionally
now than I was, but it still sneaks up on my and stabs me in the heart every
now and then…and it hurts. Some things that
were lost…that cause me pain:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br />
<ul>
<li>The last letter my mom wrote me</li>
<li>Old family letters dated back to the 1790s</li>
<li>Thousands of family photographs that I’d been cataloging</li>
<li>An old painting by a great uncle from 1899</li>
<li>A stack of email responses to one I sent out to my mom’s
friends and former students announcing her death in 2004. So heartfelt. I’d been keeping it in the garage for so
long, and had only recently brought it into the house – If it’d stayed in the garage,
it would have survived</li>
<li>A little squirt gun in the shape of an Easter bunny. It was one of my mom’s gag things. She’d say, “did you see this cute little
Easter bunny?” Then squirt you with it
when you got close.</li>
<li>An afghan made by my mom</li>
<li>An old Stetson of my uncle's that I loved</li>
<li>A beautiful leather jacket my ex-wife got me</li>
<li>An afghan made by Shelley’s mom</li>
<li>All Shelley’s Swarovsky crystal</li>
<li>Shelley’s grandfather clock</li>
<li>A picture of my mom in a little brass frame that I loved</li>
<li>Mom’s old Phi Beta Kappa pin</li>
<li>A crocheted sunflower my mom did and had framed. I really
loved that thing</li>
<li>All my digital photographs.
Thousands and thousands</li>
<li>About $4,000 worth of camera gear</li>
<li>My computer</li>
<li>My laptop</li>
<li>My guitars</li>
<li>About $700 worth of harmonicas</li>
<li>All our kitchen things – Knick knacks, family stuff, etc.</li>
<li>The Hindu Rope plant I grew from a small clipping from my
mom.</li>
</ul>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
Our two cats. Kitty,
who was 14 years old. She was Shelley’s
cat, but I came to love that cat. Baby, who was 6 years old. We got Baby when she was a kitten and she
attached herself to me. I was in love
with that cat. I loved her so much, and
she loved me. It breaks my heart to
think they died in the house, scared and without us there to save them. There’s part of me that still hopes they got
out before they were overcome by smoke, but with every day that goes by, that
hope fades. It still hurts like hell
though.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
Shortly after the fire, Shelley went to Hawaii. She, her daughter, her granddaughter, and her
sister had purchased tickets for a week-long vacation last summer. There was no
sense in wasting the money spent, so she went.
I stayed at a friend’s house and took a little over a week off. There was so much to do. I dug through debris, sorted through things
that survived, and separated & sorted photographs that survived, the latter
of which was an extremely laborious task.
At one point I found yet another pile of photos and nearly broke
down. The emotional strain of going
through the photos, and realizing I couldn’t possibly sort through this next
pile of photos was unbelievable. I found
a company to do the last pile of them, thankfully, but the emotional strain was
really hard. So hard I went to my doctor, who prescribed me some stuff to help
with the anxiety. It helped.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
The whole experience has been unbelievably tragic and
heart-wrenching. You see fire victims on
television and thing, <i>“Wow. That’s awful.”</i> But until you’ve gone through a fire and lost
everything, you don’t and cannot possibly know how horrible the experience
is. Fortunately, and I know it sounds cliché
(it did when people were saying it to me), we weren’t hurt. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
The only thing we can do is look forward. That’s easier said than done. I’m doing better, but I still get a kick in
the chest every now and then. The other
day on the way to work is when I realized I’d lost mom’s sunflower and I broke
down and bawled like a baby in the car.
I loved that thing. I loved so
much we lost.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
The one thing good about this experience is that I’ve seen
how good people can be. People offered
homes, food, cars, money, household goods, shoulders, etc. One couple washed
ten loads of the clothes that survived the fire – three times each. A coworker let us stay with him for almost a
month. Other coworkers collected and
gave us things we might need. It’s
really been a wonderful epiphany<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; mso-add-space: auto;">
Today the debris that was once our home is to be leveled
and removed today. The rain might put a damper on that, but you never know.<o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-40628056421296601402015-01-24T05:09:00.001-06:002015-01-24T05:11:15.824-06:00The Horror<p dir="ltr">Our house burned to the ground yesterday afternoon.  Nearly everything we owned was lost.  Two indoor cats are unaccounted for as is one outdoor cat.  I put out food and water for them last night, and made a little bed for them by a bush they like to hide under.  I hope they made it.  I love those cats so much.</p>
<p dir="ltr">All we own fit in my friend's Cherokee and in my trunk.  I bought some clothes and essentials last night.  The rest was destroyed.  I hope to find some little things today when some friends and I start sifting through debris.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Shelley was in Austin.  She's coming home today.</p>
<p dir="ltr">My God this is awful.</p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-31098242045884827752014-12-26T05:35:00.001-06:002014-12-26T05:42:09.614-06:00Merry ChristmasI had a good Christmas.<br />
<br />
Gave some good gifts<br />
Got some good gifts<br />
Spent time with family<br />
Continued to be amazed at how much I love my kids<br />
Ate some good food<br />
Missed a few people I couldn't be with<br />
Reminisced about a friendship with a person I befriended here in 2005<br />
<br />
I didn't think much about Jesus, but that's not unusual. I just don't buy that religious stuff. I don't care that lots o' people do; it's just not my cup of tea.<br />
<br />
Hope those of you who still drop by from time to time had a good Christmas. Except for Nay and Y - They're on my naughty list for totally discontinuing all communication with me. Turds. ;-)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-82943605874102300062014-11-21T04:36:00.002-06:002014-11-21T04:36:47.883-06:00Memory du JourWhen I was around six years old, my family and I lived in Southern California. Every night after Mom put me and my sister to bed, the following exchange would take place - Once each per child:<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; text-align: justify;">
<u>Child</u>: Good night<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; text-align: justify;">
<u>Mom</u>: Good night<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; text-align: justify;">
<u>Child</u>: Pleasant dreams<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; text-align: justify;">
<u>Mom</u>: Same to you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; text-align: justify;">
<u>Child</u>: I love you<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; text-align: justify;">
<u>Mom</u>: I love you too<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; text-align: justify;">
<u>Child</u>: Good night<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1.0in; text-align: justify;">
<u>Mom</u>: Good night</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-76303971749397984592014-08-04T04:41:00.003-05:002014-08-04T04:42:13.736-05:00Ya Know...<div style="text-align: justify;">
I used to fancy myself as agnostic. Yesterday I had an epiphany. I think it was a long time in coming.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've decided to define myself as an unapologetic atheist. I had the change of heart yesterday after speaking to my daughter, who had called to tell me that Cleo, my late mother's wonderful, sweet cat wasn't doing so well. A couple of weeks ago the vet told us she had squamous cell carcinoma on her neck, and that it was untreatable. Poor Cleo can hardly eat, and has lost a canine tooth, to go along with the few that the vet pulled two weeks ago. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In addition to taking my grandfather, my mother, my best friend, and a few other people I know and have worked with over the years, cancer is going to take my mother's cat. While the Cleo has lived a long happy life (She's 17), I can't help but wonder <em>Why the fuck cancer?</em></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<em></em><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A religious person might tell me that God has a reason for it. Bullshit.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He may also tell me I'm being tested. Also bullshit.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So yesterday I felt a lot of the feelings I felt when my mom was on her last mile. I couldn't stop thinking of Cleo, and my stomach felt like it would if I were plunging down a steep roller coaster. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All the cruelty in the world - the death, the lying, cheating and dishonesty, has motivated me to completely divest myself of believing there is any supreme being anywhere. What kind of god pulls this kind of shit? Right. There isn't one. Just a few books in which some dudes talked about a god. And then those books were revised over the years to suit the times. All a bunch of hooey.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I do not; however, believe we just stop existing when we die. I like to think we become something else...that our energy takes on a different form and we exist in perpetuity somewhere. Where? I have no fucking idea. Why do I believe that? Probably because it makes me feel better about my short time on this earth.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-24367770891046990712014-07-13T11:04:00.001-05:002014-07-13T11:05:13.522-05:00God<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have a cousin who posts religious stuff on Facebook fairly regularly. It doesn't bother me in general, and I ignore those posts for the most part.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is; however, one thing he posts that really gets under my skin:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR7hxCRiCN587KIi_hgCdaOwbvYhvtxQpWyr9e0CVo2VfeyLRiEmmwMP9_voqvTF9cHcA9ge-KUe36Uag6jKSZ040AFwxvbPBDybZKkVfPGtT0RmOCEZFPj3fc_xL9SMpVPftn/s1600/godgreatestphysician.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR7hxCRiCN587KIi_hgCdaOwbvYhvtxQpWyr9e0CVo2VfeyLRiEmmwMP9_voqvTF9cHcA9ge-KUe36Uag6jKSZ040AFwxvbPBDybZKkVfPGtT0RmOCEZFPj3fc_xL9SMpVPftn/s1600/godgreatestphysician.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">God...The Greatest Physician</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have nothing against him or his religion, but I just can't help but wonder, where in the fuck was this "Greatest Physician" when my mom had cancer and died? When my best friend died from cancer? When my grandfather died from cancer? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anyway - I'm not nearly as angry as I might come across, but one day I might post something in reply like, "He must've been on vacation when my best friend, my grandfather, and my mother died of cancer."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nay - You fucker. Where are you? You're not answering emails or anything. Y? You too. Fucker. :-)</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-68379499538402701252014-06-28T12:37:00.002-05:002014-06-28T12:37:27.474-05:00Fuck!After making my previous post, I took a trip down memory lane and read some of my old posts and the comments of my old blogger friends. Some of you are still around. Some of you don't communicate with me anymore (you know who you are, Nay & Y). Some of you just dropped off the face of the earth, never to be heard from again.<br />
<br />
Anyhow...it sure was fun re-reading that shit. I need to scour the web and find an app that can retrieve all my postings and comments. My kids might enjoy reading them one day. Kinda like a time capsule. Well...they may just think it's really fucking lame, too.<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-80094777207232206072014-06-28T12:25:00.003-05:002014-06-28T12:25:36.495-05:00Ya Know...The older I get, the more shit I want to do. Do you think it's because your body knows you're more than halfway through your expected lifetime and is subconsciously urging you to do (or re-do, or do more of) the shit you've always wanted to do, but never have?<br />
<br />
Well, I finally got myself a smoker. Not a fancy New Braunfels one. I just don't cook for that many people, so I don't need one that big. I got myself a small electric one that gets rave reviews on a number of sites. Right now I have a 9lb brisket smoking in it. It went on at 722am, and will be on for 9 hours or more.<br />
<br />
Other shit I want to do or do more of...<br />
Photography<br />
Sex (Ya think?!) LOL<br />
Visiting friends and family out of state<br />
Go back to New England for more genealogy research<br />
Finish my family cookbook<br />
Finish my short stories<br />
Finish my autobiography (and I don't mean by dying!)<br />Sex (What? Again?)<br />
Finish my genealogy research and provide something to family members<br />
Have an attorney do a trust, living will, medical power of attorney, etc.<br />
Finish organizing and scanning family photographs<br />
Go to the coast more and fish!<br />
<br />
And the list goes on...<br />
<br />
Cheers, bitches...and I mean that affectionately to my old blogger friends. As for people who simply happen by here - I don't know you, so don't be offended that I'm calling you all bitches. I mean, you probably aren't bitches...but then maybe you are. Anyway, I mean "good" bitches, so...whatever.<br />
<br />
AdiosUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-80450704380873395622014-02-11T04:47:00.002-06:002014-02-11T04:47:39.498-06:00MomsJust sitting here surfing the interwebs before work and realizing how much I miss my mom...and Shelley's Mom. My mom died in 2004 and left a giant void in my heart and life. <br />
<br />
I met Shelley's mom in 2007 and fell in love with her immediately. When she left us in 2013 the void returned. She's supposed to be here in Texas right now. She was supposed to come in October and stay through the holidays and for the birth of her great granddaughter in February.<br />
<br />
Okay, now there are tears rolling down my face.<br />
<br />
Mamas' boy? Prolly. So what?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-88969328192648468382013-12-09T20:28:00.000-06:002013-12-09T20:28:07.391-06:00War on What?<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="text-align: justify;">
Let the “War on Christmas” begin. Not! </div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
This hyped-up media & politically-motivated bullshit
is wearing seriously on my patience.
There is not, nor has there ever been a war on Christmas. It isn’t a leftist, progressive, liberal,
commie plot against Christianity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
To me it’s Christmas and always has been, but I
don’t panic and shit myself every time someone says “Happy Holidays” or “Happy
Hanukkah,” or, God forbid, “Feliz Ramadan.”
</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
Seriously. Give
it a fucking rest. No one’s infringing
on anyone’s right to fucking celebrate fucking anything. Fuck.</div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
And please…don’t boycott businesses that advertise
holiday sales. They have, after all, to
attract people of all religions. Yes –
there’s more than one. If you’re going
to do that, please be consistent, and boycott the Republican Party, whose
politicians have holiday parties every year.
Really. Google it. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-32805132159548725192013-11-23T04:46:00.001-06:002014-01-15T03:43:55.065-06:00Happy Birthday<div style="text-align: justify;">
Back in 1979, when I was 17, I met a stunningly beautiful girl through my best friend. We hit it off and I, being the hopeless fuck that I am, fell madly in love with her - Or as madly in love as one can be at 17. Since that first meeting, we've had other boyfriends and girlfriends, have lost touch for years at a time, been married, had hard times and good times, lost friends, and gained new family members in the forms of nieces and nephews. I've fallen in love with her, out of love with her, been jubilant over her, been broken-hearted over her, and eventually accepted her as one of my best, dearest, most wonderful friends ever.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nay, my friend, I wish you the happiest, must carefree, smiley birthday today. Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, I love you and miss you much, my dear friend. This, despite your shit-poor correspondence habits. You'd think I'd have gotten used to it in the 31 years since I joined the military and left our hometown. ;-) </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Anyway - Merry, Merry Birthday, my dear. Mail me, call me, text me...just don't forget about me, your friend.<br />
<br />
P.S.<br />
Don't hate me for all the corny shit...or for posting your freshman picture ;-)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTCuFlkhY2idTy3M6O12xL9Xb0AfxHo2Y0JwZ0JRZUMDrc3IhDQWMnwMfNFaYCcG9GmRZ-hfrD64cYst2JghMFos1S8t-15TO8WnMkwZ9qkhyphenhyphenyJR1-l2LtUxmDXHXejI1OtBp/s1600/014-01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqTCuFlkhY2idTy3M6O12xL9Xb0AfxHo2Y0JwZ0JRZUMDrc3IhDQWMnwMfNFaYCcG9GmRZ-hfrD64cYst2JghMFos1S8t-15TO8WnMkwZ9qkhyphenhyphenyJR1-l2LtUxmDXHXejI1OtBp/s200/014-01.jpg" width="119" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freshman Year - Circa 1979</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVn0wJmrjnF7vw4e5BJ1nrFoH18aak5iPpEJGfFveiIv9zDz_L5EzQHchzp8ZIsRYCsfLqFvuMFek89q5rYC7Q9YeqlYX91R0YoYPHXN1eIfn4yoOobPrfpxE-o2YOT4LCmxe_/s1600/017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVn0wJmrjnF7vw4e5BJ1nrFoH18aak5iPpEJGfFveiIv9zDz_L5EzQHchzp8ZIsRYCsfLqFvuMFek89q5rYC7Q9YeqlYX91R0YoYPHXN1eIfn4yoOobPrfpxE-o2YOT4LCmxe_/s320/017.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jerome, Arizona - 1983</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLU_e3x1gyb0hzj_8tPCX9dM9nEr8KT4ATrRFAMn14J5CCt9iwuCBhXAB5y7Z7IJOZj6teSg_-K4BSj7pCNtncyK6zLVmjf3WG4pJOg1JzbV8YMnNU5bx0uDxx7GXSITDehHp/s1600/naync.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCLU_e3x1gyb0hzj_8tPCX9dM9nEr8KT4ATrRFAMn14J5CCt9iwuCBhXAB5y7Z7IJOZj6teSg_-K4BSj7pCNtncyK6zLVmjf3WG4pJOg1JzbV8YMnNU5bx0uDxx7GXSITDehHp/s320/naync.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Texas Visit - 2007</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-65908307506168277672013-11-17T06:52:00.000-06:002013-11-17T06:52:10.424-06:00TimeI'm sure I'm not the only one in their fifties who feels like this but...<br />
<br />
The older I get, the more I feel time is running out. Shit. There's so much I have to do! Now for some rambling - Some things I need/want to do, in no particular order:<br />
<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Go to California and visit an old family friend.</li>
<li>Go to Mexico City to visit old family friends.</li>
<li>See my cousins.</li>
<li>Fly my sister and her kids out here for a visit.</li>
<li>Go back to New England for a visit.</li>
<li>Finish my genealogy research</li>
<li>Finish organizing, cataloging, and scanning all the family pictures I have and inherited</li>
<li>Get a will, power of attorney, medical power of attorney, and a trust.</li>
<li>Go visit some friends I haven't seen for a while - One in Corpus Christi; one in Dallas.</li>
<li>See my uncle.</li>
<li>Clean out my storage unit and sell/give away stuff I don't need. Of course, my son needs to move out so I can give him a bunch of stuff first!</li>
<li>Kick Nay's ass for being so incommunicado.</li>
<li>Kick Bunny's ass for being the same.</li>
</ol>
<div>
Anyway...that's all I can think of right now. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Cheers, bitches.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15376020.post-10571133780142547102013-10-23T18:10:00.004-05:002013-10-23T18:10:44.275-05:00Three Word Wednesday<div align="justify">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlvW-8oDN6h9UuHw6SbK-xMYWfp_6m77adtlc5cMmwL3SU6_byZaMYd02dnmnQktxQWEOV9807X2oItiswiPi3DOZvBw2w5U05lnyauzBsi7DgQurj2WpBSJMfalC1XgH9l5f/s1600/3WW.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475513312570616226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDlvW-8oDN6h9UuHw6SbK-xMYWfp_6m77adtlc5cMmwL3SU6_byZaMYd02dnmnQktxQWEOV9807X2oItiswiPi3DOZvBw2w5U05lnyauzBsi7DgQurj2WpBSJMfalC1XgH9l5f/s400/3WW.jpg" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 119px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 130px;" /></a></div>
<a href="http://ravingsfromsanantonio.blogspot.com/search/label/3WW"><span style="font-size: 100%;"></span></a><span style="font-size: 100%;"></span><br />
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"></span></span></span><br />
<div align="justify">
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;">The rules, if you wanna call 'em that, are <a href="http://www.threewordwednesday.com/">here</a>.</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;">
</span><span style="color: black;"><em><span style="font-size: 100%;"><br /></span></em></span></span><span style="font-family: times new roman;"><span style="font-size: 100%;"><u>Today's Words</u>:<em> Greasy, Insidious, Reveal</em></span></span></span><br />
<div align="justify">
</div>
<div align="justify">
<strong><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />Politicians</span></strong><br />
With acute disdain for responsible government service, politicians regularly <span style="color: blue;">reveal </span>that their interests lie not with the people who elect them, but with <span style="color: blue;">insidious </span>lobbyists and <span style="color: blue;">greasy </span>campaign contributors.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3