Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Huh, wirecutter's back

Awesomely epic story to be posted in 3....2....1....

Why I don't drive dirt roads in a tank top

DON'T follow the lines

This, alone, should keep her out of the White House.

Travel Beijing

A friend went to Beijing recently and was given this brochure by the hotel. It is precious.
She is keeping it and reading it whenever she feels depressed.
Obviously, it has been translated directly, word for word from Mandarin to English.


Getting There:
Our representative will make you wait at the airport. The bus to the hotel runs along the lake shore. Soon you will feel pleasure in passing water. You will know that you are getting near the hotel, because you will go round the bend. The manager will await you in the entrance hall. He always tries to have intercourse with all new guests.
The Hotel:
This is a family hotel, so children are very welcome. We of course are always pleased to accept adultery. Highly skilled nurses are available in the evenings to put down your children. Guests are invited to conjugate in the bar and expose themselves to others. But please note that ladies are not allowed to have babies in the bar. We organize social games, so no guest is ever left alone to play with them self.
The Restaurant:
Our menus have been carefully chosen to be ordinary and unexciting. At dinner, our quartet will circulate from table to table, and fiddle with you.
Your Room:
Every room has excellent facilities for your private parts. In winter, every room is on heat. Each room has a balcony offering views of outstanding obscenity! .. You will not be disturbed by traffic noise, since the road between the hotel and the lake is used only by pederasts.
Your bed has been made in accordance with local tradition. If you have any other ideas please ring for the chambermaid. Please take advantage of her. She will be very pleased to squash your shirts, blouses and underwear. If asked, she will also squeeze your trousers.
Above All:
When you leave us at the end of your holiday, you will have no hope. You will struggle to forget it.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

No truer words

Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer true...

I'm half crazy,
All for the love of you!
It won't be a stylish marriage,
I can't afford a carriage,
But you'll look sweet upon the seat
Of a bicycle built for two.

The epitome of love and devotion.
And they lived happily ever after.

Monday, May 26, 2014

Take out only

Inspirational words from a Navy SEAL

I sat through three commencement addresses. Three. I remember exactly zero. If this man had addressed my class, I can guarantee you I would have remembered. Especially the list of 10 Things to Help In Life.

1. Always make your bed.
2. Find someone to help you paddle.
3. Measure a person by the size of their heart, not the size of their flippers. *coughKerodincough*
4. Get over being a sugar cookie, and keep moving forward.
5. Don't be afraid of the circuses.
6. Sometimes you have to slide down the obstacles head first.
7. Don't back down from the sharks.
8. You must be your very best in the darkest moments.
9. Start singing when you're up to your neck in mud.
And 10.

Don't ever EVER ring the bell.

God bless the brave men and women who gave their all for us.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Yes baby does

Best camo pants. EVAH

Rebel without a clue

What is it Einstein said about insanity? Doing the same thing and expecting different results? Yeah, that's been me for the greater part of my life. Always agreeable, always eager to please, thinking I have to constantly EARN peoples' love and acceptance, always suppressing my deepest needs and wants afraid to rock the boat. I'm sick and tired of it and tired of always wondering why things never change. They never change because I never change. And that's about to change.

The following article starts with the sentence, "Live like there’s a fire lit under your ass that only action can fuel, feed, allow to grow into a blaze that will engulf the world where your name will roll off the tongue like so few legends that have come before you."

And it gets better from there. Read it, all of it. Think about it, and ask yourself, "What would I change?" I don't think I can tackle all 25 immediately, but I can damn sure pick out 3-4 to start, get comfortable, pick out another 3-4. Notice the first thing to change, get out of your comfort zone. This is something to consistently address. When you start snuggling down in your comfort zone, you find yourself in a rut and right back to the same insanity. I'm starting with #1, #2, #4 and #5. I embraced #3 when I almost died in childbirth.

Friday, May 23, 2014

Sandman Update: Prayers Answered

Just received this from Sandman, and it restored my faith. Like the original III to III experience with wirecutter and his Pops' passing, help comes from the most unexpected sources and that the smallest gestures can pull someone through a tough time. Read the whole letter, and understand the message.

The III is everywhere, they are dedicated, and when they come together, they can move mountains. God bless every last one of you who offered help, either money or prayers. Both helped. 

Hey Folks,
I am still alive and kicking. The wife and kids are still at home, and things have been quiet for a couple days. Just wanted to give everyone a heads up, The PayPal links and checks in the mail have totaled up to over $4000.

But today I got to see a small miracle in action. I just got back from a 3 hour round trip to meet a Patriot. Lets call him "Bob". Turns out Bob lives a few hours North of our AO, and I met him at the Mercer PA PATCON, years ago. Last year Bob contacted me about helping the OVM. He was a good ways outside our one hour rally-range, so he did not join up. And I did not get a chance to meet up with him again.
Now Bob is a regular guy, self-employed, home-schooled kids, good wife, and very unassuming.
Just a regular guy, EXCEPT he is a III Patriot. He told me of his efforts to spread the message in a subtle and informative way. His own preps are sufficient for him and his family. He says he's too old and busted up to run and gun in the woods, BUT when the time comes he will stand.
Helluva guy.
Anyway, Bob asked me to meet him about and hour and a half north of my home. I was skeptical, and worried. But with my family at stake I decided to put the pride aside and take a leap of faith that Bob was on the up and up.
To make a long story short, after about a 20 minute talk, he put a check for $5000 in my hand. No strings attached and no payback date mentioned. I am floored. I am now in a position to get things squared away financially, get the IRS off my back right away, which will allow me to focus on the family again.
Bob's ONLY REQUEST was that I spread the word and get a message out to all the III% out there.
He said the III is not some small exclusive club, we are everywhere, he said to tell you that we have more support than we know. He said this was his way of paying it forward, III to III. He might not be in a Militia, or training in CQB, but he will continue to help (and he has friends) the best he can.
So my leap of faith turned into a small miracle, one that reminded me of how this works. That we may be a minority in the coming fracas, but we are an amazing minority. I let Bob know that our door will always be open to him and his. And that I will strive to live up to the trust he placed in me.
Please post, that donations are no longer needed, the III% have stepped up, and helped save my family. The rest is on me. God Bless and God Speed.
ps: you may post this mail if you wish. I am sure "Bob" won't mind, thanks again Bob and ALL the others who helped out. I owe you all a debt that can never be repaid.

David C
aka: Sandman

Irish: The Later Years

A good ole Texas fundraiser

I was in City Hall paying my water bill today when I saw this flyer taped to the wall:

So yeah, that's typical around here. Last year it was a really nice Winchester shotgun, this year a 9mm pistol. And before any of you dudes start whining about "it's not a .45ACP", suck it up. A gun is a gun, and any gun is better than no gun, and if you can't hit something with a 9mm dead center, then you sure as hell aren't going to hit it with a .45. And where else can you get a handgun for $5 AND help the Boy Scouts?

I love people who can laugh at themselves

Yep, we're doomed.


Wednesday, May 21, 2014


Meet Snoopy. He's Poppy's shadow, his buddy, his partner in crime. He was instrumental in Poppy's rapid recovery from two knee replacement surgeries. He is, in Poppy's words, a Serious Babe Magnet. He's also son to my much missed CharlieDog. He was in her first and only litter. So, let's see, she came to us in Dec '99, just about a week later had pups, so he's 14. And we lost Charlie a year and a half ago, around the same age. 

Snoopy's been slowing down a lot the last few months, but we figured it was because of Poppy's health issues that have slowed him down. We're starting to realize that's not so much the issue. Snoopy is Poppy's last dog, his last buddy, and he's probably going to be saying goodbye to him soon. Of course, to me, this is better than the other option, but still. I'm not over Charlie's death, I can't stand that Poppy is facing it now.

Okay, this is getting maudlin and I don't want to go there. So let's pick up the pace with a Charlie and Snoopy story. Every summer, Snoopy would come stay at Camp Charlie for a couple of weeks while my folks went up to Spokane for a visit. Being a city dog and unused to the sights and sounds of the country, his first few visits were interesting. I'd take him and Charlie down the road to the open fields for a little wabbit hunting. Charlie was an expert rabbit hunter. We never came home without a kill; even in her later years when she was slowing down, she could still give 'em a good chase. But Snoopy? Oh hell no. The first time I took them off the leash and he followed her to her favorite warren, he didn't have a clue. He's just standing there with that goofy look on his puppy face when she flushed two out and they ran right into him, almost knocked him over. He jumped and yelped and came hauling ass back to me with his tail tucked. Charlie looked positively mortified. She didn't even give chase, just stood there looking at her son cowering between my legs. The rest of that week, she pretty much ignored him. But he was watching, every walk we took, he was taking notes. By the end of the second week, they were taking turns flushing and chasing. 

His last visit to Camp Charlie was the summer before she passed, and she'd slowed way down. She mostly flushed and he chased, but he never caught anything that summer. At the end of the two weeks, I was walking Snoopy out to the momvan and Charlie walked with us. I opened the sliding door and settled him in, he turned around three times and laid down behind the passenger seat nose pointing to the door. Charlie pushed past me, and rested her chin on the floor nose-to-nose with her son. I couldn't say anything, just stood there and watched them say goodbye. She huffed a little woof, licked his nose and turned to go back in the gate. Snoopy didn't move or bark the whole hour trip home, and Poppy said he moped for a couple of weeks. That was in July, Charlie was gone the following January.

III to III: Another Patriot's POV

I know Israel Barkley as well as one can without meeting face to face. I admire and respect him and his wife. He's one of the Patriots I would trust with my Cute Chicks' lives on the line. He's also a very straight-talker.

I can never speak this plainly, for fear of hurting or offending, that's why I love guys like Israel and Ken Lane and Sam Kerodin. They don't play games, and they don't sugarcoat. They'll tell you the truth, painful though it may be, and back it up with action.

Go read his thoughts on III to III and helping Sandman HERE.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

III to III: A call to bloggers and readers

Since this call went up Sunday morning, almost $2700 has been raised for Sandman and his family, and that is freaking awesome, it gives them some breathing room. I know many of you have contributed, and it doesn't matter whether it was $5 or $500, every bit helps. I know there are still bass lure boxes from Bill (HERE) for sale, ALL proceeds going to Sandman, I'm going to put up a brand new Camp Tool Trader from Kershaw knives (think barbeque tools on steroids) for sale tomorrow, proceeds going to the cause. Hell, I'll sell a kidney to raise some more funds. I'll get that up for sale as soon as I sedate SFB. The point being if you can help, to the tune of anything you can spare, help is still needed and greatly appreciated. 

Hugs again,


I have "met" many good folk among the III Patriots. Met is in quotations because, while I've not seen or experienced them in person, I've gotten to know them and what kind of people they are through blogging and correspondence.  It's no secret that I consider y'all to be my family, my Tribe, and I'd do whatever I could, whenever it's needed to see each of you safe and happy. Just call me the Patriot Den Mother.

I've never met Sandman, but I have corresponded with him. He, like all of you, are good people, True Patriot, but also like many of us, he's got a family and obligations outside of the Patriot movement. And like so many, he's run into a rough patch and needs a loving helping hand. Keeping our families and homes together and flourishing while we prepare for the Coming Storm is one of the most important parts of prepping. Without strong families and stable homes, fighting would be unbearable. And sometimes we need help keeping things together while we regroup. That's what Sandman needs right now.

There's a link at Sam's HERE with PayPal buttons. Or you can plug in his email into your PayPal and do it directly:

And words from wirecutter and WiscoDave HERE, both know Sandman far better than I do.

You've always come through anytime there's been a call. No one needs to be heroic and carry the load, whatever you can offer is greatly appreciated. You can fill a bucket one drop at a time and still have a full bucket.

God bless each of you,


Definition of "dogpaddle"

Confessions of a crappy mom

Sunday was Teen Queen's 19th birthday. I completely forgot. Prom you know. Anyway, packed a gluten-free chocolate cake mix and a can of gfcf fudge frosting in her backpack yesterday. At 8:10, got a call from her teacher:

Mr. G: Did you know she's got a cake mix and frosting in her backpack?
Me: Yup
Mr. G: Did you put it there?
Me: Yup
Mr. G: Care to tell me why?
Me: Gee, TQ, happy belated birthday, sorry I forgot, here, make your own cake.
Mr. G: Go back to bed.

Sorry, TQ, you know I love you and I'll make you a million cakes when I get better.

N****r, please

I debated in high school. I debated in college. I was very proud of my victories, and gracious in my losses because, on the rare occasion I lost, it was to a superior team who was more eloquent and better prepared than my team. Had I ever lost to something like this, well, just no. Note: the ALL female, all black team from Towson University defeated the ALL male, all black team from University of Oklahoma. Make of it what you will.

And Mooch, you race baiting wookie, you can kiss my ass. This isn't celebrating excellence and diversity; it's pandering to the worst self-perpetuating stereotypes out there.

Fuck Obama.

On March 24, Towson University won the 2014 Cross Examination Debate Association’s national championship. Towson defeated the University of Oklahoma. What was Towson’s strategy? Inexplicably using the N-word over and over again in an incomprehensible tirade.
Here is an actual excerpt (with profanity redacted). See if you are able to tell what Towson is arguing in favor or against:
They say the n*****s always already qu***, that’s exactly the point! It means the impact is that the that the is the impact term, uh, to the afraid, uh, the, that it is a case term to the affirmative because, we, uh, we’re saying that qu*** bodies are not able to survive the necessarily means of the body. Uh, uh, the n***** is not able to survive.

Finish the bitch here. 

Because, tolerance, you know?

Oh! Well, never mind...


Planting right before a mild freeze, growing during a 60 mph/90 degree sandstorm, and being interrupted by Prom, I still managed to keep some of them alive. And bearing fruit!

Pyramid #1 almost complete.

Sun and wind burned the leaves, but there's a berry!

The plants on the east and north sides faired better. 

They should teach this in high school

Monday, May 19, 2014

Coming and going

Kinda makes you wonder how good the sex is.

On my "Need It" list

Amazon Link HERE

2014 Bay to Breakers 12K Run

From Mike Rowe's Facebook page:

"Yesterday was San Francisco’s annual 12K footrace through town - the ever-popular, “Bay to Breakers.” 

According to the official website, Bay to Breakers has been “a quintessential San Francisco experience for 102 years, interwoven into the fabric of the city, and a true celebration of life between the breakers and the Bay.” 

Yeah. Welcome the the celebration, kid."

Did I mention I love Mike Rowe?

Why cannibals don't do oral

Gonna be one of those days

Sunday, May 18, 2014

For Sandman

WiscoDave forwarded the following, read it keeping in mind two things, helping a fellow Patriot and Father's Day is coming up:

I have made 13 of these fly lure pocket boxes, and I am willing to donate all proceeds to the cause. I will sell them as they are clear finished for 40 dollars. Keep in mind, I just made them yesterday so it will take a bit to finish them. If you want the III inlaid with maple, I will do it for 100 dollars each. The material costs are cheap and I don't have the cash to donate, but will donate my time. So the price paid will go to whoever needs it. 
These are breast pocket fly lure boxes. About the size of a pack of smokes. Two styles, but I would stay with the open ones without separators.

Bill Horvat
Programming Plus Inc. 

You can contact him to purchase and arrange shipping at 

Prom 2014

Sorry for the lack of posting yesterday, but I had much more important matters to attend. PROM!!!!

Even though it didn't start until 6 pm, we were in full prom mode from the moment Teen Queen got up until go time. We primped and preened, pampered and poofed. We had hair and nails and facials, and we just couldn't possibly eat anything! Well, she couldn't; I had no problem eating.

So we got all dressed up, her dad surprised all of us with a beautiful wrist corsage.

We made a quick stop at the Veteran's Memorial gazebo for a little photo session:

That's the new Veteran's War Memorial and VFW Hall behind her.

We made it to the Venue by 7:15 after mom got lost a couple of times, but oh so worth it. She walked in to a chorus of greetings and "Oh, you're so pretty! I'm so glad you came!" Let me tell you something about the kiddos, correction, young men and ladies of this little Texas town. There's not a one of them who doesn't address adults as Sir and Ma'am, the young men hold doors open and the young women say thank you and mean it. I have NEVER worried about bullies in this town. The kids grew up with Teen Queen and Baby Queen and consider them family. Nobody messes with them without having an angry crowd of Panthers. So Prom never gave me a worry, I knew down to my soul TQ would be welcomed with open arms. Of course that meant she was swallowed up by her friends and carted off to a table by the dance floor and I was left to cool my heels with the teachers and chaperones. 

She left my side when this absolutely adorable brunette in a stunning formal and cowboy boots came over and hugged her and invited her to sit with them. This young lady was last year's Homecoming Queen and is headed for UT Austin in the fall. They had TQ on the dance floor for every fast rock dance and country line dance that played, but it wasn't what TQ was wanting. After a particularly rowdy Cotton Eyed Joe (no, the kids weren't allowed to say "bull shit"), TQ and R came over and I could see something was cooking. She hugged me and asked, "But where is my boy?!" Oh. Shit. R tried to reassure her that not every girl there had a boyfriend, SHE didn't have a boyfriend, and after all, boys were stinky and mean. I could have hugged her for that. But TQ would not be deterred. With a twinkle in her eye, she looked at us and uttered the phrase that will haunt me forever. "I'll take my chances." Double OH SHIT.

She walked over to a table of boys and sweetly asked, "Which one of you will dance with me?" To their credit (and I could have hugged all of them), they all volunteered and eventually all led her across the floor in some of the most interesting versions of a two-step I've ever seen. She had more dances last night than I had all through college. Moral: Take the chance and dance.

I didn't get any pics of her dancing, but the school photographer did. I should be getting those Monday. She lasted almost 3 hours, which is really late for her. When she finally pooped out on me, we walked out to more hugs and "glad you cames". This is going back a bit, the Venue is an old three story hacienda-styled building with a lovely courtyard with fountain and seating areas. A lot of the kids had retreated from the loud music to the courtyard by later evening; and it was through here that we left. As we got outside, TQ announced, "Mom, thank you so much, this was the best Panther Prom ever!" We exited to a chorus of, "Go Panthers!"