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I’m Concerned

Sun, 03/10/2019 - 10:37am

From the Mind of a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas.

I’m truly concerned at the direction our country is headed. Most people don’t really understand what’s happening. In our Congress this past two months, they have discussed, abortions up to the time the baby is born, Forced Vaccinations, Socialism, Government take over of Corporations, Declared open borders, Removal of our Guns, Elected Muslims to office in our highest levels of government and have expanded the investigations into a sitting President to the point nothing can be accomplished. Then the latest, They are trying to make anyone who believes Conspiracy Theories a Criminal. These people have even told you, they are all in for the transformation of our country in their New World Order Agenda.

The sad part about all of this, is no one can or will open a history book to understand what these people are doing. We have kids running around spewing hate and mouthing off about fascism, all the while playing into the hands of the real fascist. They have no idea what fascism even means. These same people want the government to run everything, they want free schooling, free healthcare, and want the government to provide them with jobs or hand outs. They’ve been groomed well by the higher education system to believe that the government should provide all these things and take care of them from the time they are born, to the time they die. They don’t quite understand, that the type government they are asking for, they may die a lot sooner than they anticipate.

Most people can’t comprehend, that the government is not their friend. They can’t figure out that Mass Migration into our country is about destroying our country. That bringing diseases back into our country to force mass vaccines on the population is more about population control, than about eradicating diseases. When will they figure out, that Abortions up to the time the baby is born is not about the health of the mother nor the baby. I’m reminded of a movie back n the 70’s called Logan’s Run. Anyone remember that movie? After you turned a certain age, they sent someone out to exterminate you. They’ve already said, Old people will just have to understand, they have to die sometime. This is where this is headed. First the Baby’s, then the elderly. If this was a movie, you couldn’t ask for a better plot.

These people have put a lot of time and energy into bringing about this system, they’ve spent a lot of time re-educating our children to convince them that this is the way of the future. If people don’t start waking up now, tomorrow it’ll be too late. We are already late in the game and time is running out.

It’s no longer a Conspiracy Theory, when they’re telling you to your face what they’re doing. Denial on your part is no longer acceptable. They are in your face about it, bragging about it and you still can’t figure it out.

Ah but what the hell, Everyone knows, I’ve made a point to make sure they know, I’m just a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas, What do I know about such things? God Speed and have a Great Day!


The Butcher Shop

The post I’m Concerned appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

CigarBox

Sat, 03/09/2019 - 6:14am

The next morning Mike rose early and got dressed. Walking into the living area of the big house he noticed Buddy sleeping on the couch with only his boots off. After catfish he’d gone to a local bar and closed it down with friends, drinking lots of beer and shooting pool and making conversation with the bar maid, Sabrina, whom he’d gone to high school with. Mike went to the kitchen where his stepfather was already having coffee. He wasn’t going to drive his new truck to the ranch so he asked Bill to drive him there.

“Where you wanna go?”

“June’s grand maw’s house. Remember, Barbara said they wanted me to start coming out to see June there?”

The older man eyed Mike for a minute, “You better watch out about going out there. Ray’ll drag you out to the hills and skin you!”

“No, I think It’s gonna be ok. He’s gonna like me in the end.”

His stepfather chuckled, “You’re just hot on the trail of that little girl.”

Mike got all defensive and half yelled, “She’s not a little girl, and I don’t like you saying that!”

His stepfather was not taken aback by this outburst. He just figured it was Mike’s time to “jump” because that’s what all the other boys had already done. They had all tried out the old man except the youngest who was too fat and slow to jump on anyone, or anything but a pork chop.

“Oh, you a man now? How’s your head feeling?”

Realizing he was setting the stage for a major altercation, which he wasn’t ready for, at least not just yet, Mike backed off and said, “I’m just nervous about going out there, dad, and I let it get to me.”

“Why don’t you just date that girl you been seeing across town? The one you been sneaking in the back window on?”

Mike went at least two shades paler. “What are you talking about?”

“Deputy Dog’s ugly little girl. You know, the one with the big ears.”

“That was Anna dad!”

“Oh, yeah, your mother reminded me of that, too. Anyway, you have been sneaking in her window every night when the Deputy’s on patrol. Why don’t you marry her?”

“I…don’t…love…her!”

Mike was starting to grit his teeth, but he controlled himself because he could tell that his stepfather was fishing for a fight, and his head was still sore. The old man really had a laugh out of all this, but then it was getting on his nerves too. About that time Buddy roused and walked into the kitchen.

“Dad, is there coffee?”

“Right over there,” the older man pointed to the pot sitting about half full.

Buddy got a cup and poured it and began to drink without any sugar or cream. “You screwing Anna, Mike?”

“I may see her from time to time but it’s not serious.” Mike didn’t dare show any anger at Buddy, who was obviously working off the night before. He couldn’t lie to him both because Mike’s roaming was the talk of the night at Sabrina’s bar among people their age and Buddy had been completely filled in on all the details. He also had been filled in on all the details about June the Cat, too, but he didn’t bring it up because he didn’t want his dad to jump in the middle of that kind of argument so early in the morning.

“Dad, do I get the ride or not?”

“Sure, I’ll take you, but you tell Ray not to shoot until I get my truck off the property!”

Ray was working in his mother’s barn with the little truck rolled up. He was a wiry man who constantly wore a floppy felt cowboy hat, even in the summer when everyone else wore straw. He never wore a baseball cap, or any other, just one hat that he’d apparently had since he was very young. He had a thinning beard and those crazy eyes you see on movies about hillbillies hiding in the woods making bar-b-cue out of tourists.

He walked out of the barn with an axe over his shoulder. He walked slowly to the truck and looked at Mike. Mike sat straight up and slowly began to sweat. Talking back to Ray at Fat Eddie’s was one thing, but he was out in the desert now and Ray could just about get away with anything out here. But, that’s what made him civilized, too. He had control now.

“Well, just get out! You can’t see her if you’re a sitting in a truck. I ain’t gonna kill you right out.”

Mike let out two lungs and a half of air. He opened the door and stepped out onto the sandy soil that Ray
called his drive way. The man with the axe looked at Mike’s stepfather and, without Mike seeing, winked, and said, “Where you want me to send the body?”

“You can just keep it out here if you want.”

They both laughed and Ray put his arm around Mike and led him toward the house. Bill backed the truck into a field and drove off the land. Ray’s mother owned eighty acres of land about ten miles from the little town. Now, if one understands that the town itself was in the “middle of nowhere” then it can really be understood that the farm was really nowhere. She’d inherited it from her dead husband’s estate. Land isn’t very valuable in Texas unless it’s in Dallas, or Houston, or somewhere like that. Other than that, it is generally “dirt” cheap. The farm had produced nothing but Ray. They ran a few cows on it, and some goats, but it actually did not sustain life of any kind as far as making any produce for market, but that was typical for this part of the country. The ownership of land was a pride thing, and not an economic thing. There was a vague “value” to the ownership of the land. Something you really couldn’t put your finger on, but it was real nonetheless. This ownership put Ray’s mother in a slot of society that was peculiar to Texas. Sheriff’s would even step lightly before driving out into the desert to arrest such a person, and the law didn’t always stand on the side of the deputy who transgressed this understanding. You must really ask yourself, did the Branch Davidians really break the “law” or were they just shooting some Yankee trespassers who came onto their land?

Ray lived, and had lived in the shack behind Fat Eddie’s for quite some time now, but he would still come out and help his mother keep the place up that had been his father’s. His mother had never approved of Barbara, and tolerated her only on occasion, never allowing herself to be given a daily dose of being around her son’s wife. She’d accepted June with the same affection as she granted June’s little sister who was, after all, her maternal grand daughter. She’s given the young lady tips down through the years, but she never had approved of Barbara’s raising of the child. She knew full well the secrets that the foundations of the Bend sat on top of, and she didn’t like what Barbara had done in her past.

Yet, with all of this Ray really wanted to have his little stepdaughter live in town at the “Bend” with “quality” people. June was the apple of his eye. With his having growing up in west Texas, he understood the way things really were, and he didn’t want her to end up looking like his mother at fifty years old. He wanted her to look like Claudette. He wanted her to have all those things he saw in the homes he put sheet rock and roofs on when he worked his day job in construction. His show of force back at Fat Eddie’s place wasn’t so much that he didn’t want Mike to ever be with June, as he wanted to seal the relationship in stone. If he had to scare this wimpy kid to get his little girl into the Bend then that’s what he’d have to do. Mike was in no real danger. Ray would never hit, or harm a man, or boy, who wasn’t trying to hit or harm him first. He wasn’t an animal. He loved to read. He read Stephen King’s works all the time, and he liked western novels. He’d been in construction for a number of years, to the point of getting a master plumber’s license. He’d do a little light plumbing here and there, but sheet rock was the work he really loved. And, he was good at his trade. People take for granted the craftsmen who build their fancy homes. The molding, the pipes, and all that goes with a beautiful home always comes from the hands of a man like Ray. He was beginning a contracting business that would take him around the state rebuilding apartment complexes. This was one more reason he didn’t want to make enemies in the Bend. A lot of his initial funding may just very well come from Claudette herself! The Bend was filled up, all but the one house that Juan Sanchez had been building. Politics were rumbling over on that deal; politics that Ray didn’t understand, nor did he care to understand. All the good construction money the Bend had generated was long spent. He was a hard working man who genuinely tried to treat everyone fairly, and all he wanted out of Mike was to move his little girl into the Bend; the place that his own hands had built!

Juan would make occasional visits to the ranch to see Ray, and they’d go out to the barn to talk, and sample what Juan had brought back from the “valley” down on the Rio Grande. Juan generally kept all in the area that were so inclined supplied with the Bend, and Ray had warned him that it may be an uphill drive for him to finish it.

They walked into the house. The home was the usual Texas ranch style home with the moderate living room and a big kitchen. (Cause that’s where everyone stays anyway!) There were stairs going up to rooms in the attic, and a “Florida” room on the back for hot summer days. Ray’s mother was in the kitchen making lunch when the two walked into the home. Mike looked around for June, but didn’t see her.

“She went into town with her mom,” Ray said without having to be asked.

Mike rolled his eyes. He had an obnoxious way of rolling them where they ended up looking down and to the right. Ray picked up on this at once and told him, “You wanna see June you gotta play by my rules. She had to go into town with her Ma to get some things. She’ll be back. You ain’t getting her alone out here anyway, so you might as well relax. Turning to his mother he said, “Mom, we’re goin’ back to the barn, ok?”

The small, white-haired woman turned and said, “I’ll yell out the door at ya when it’s done.”

Ray nodded to her and pointed toward the door for Mike to lead. Mike eased out the door and started walking for the barn. He began to get scared. Sure, Ray was nice while his step dad was here, but how nice would he be now that he was out here alone. Behind him Ray was enjoying seeing him sweat. He didn’t mean the lad any harm, and figured that it would be good for him to get to know the boy.

They entered the barn through the big double doors at one end. There was hay on the floor, but none in the loft. This barn wasn’t used for that.

“C’mere,” Ray called as he walked to the back of the building. He reached behind a bale of hay and pulled out a King Edward cigar box. It was held together with an old rubber bank. Removing the rubber band, and opening the top so that Mike could not see the contents of the box, he drew out a sandwich bag of marijuana and some rolling papers. “Old Juan gets me this stuff whenever he’s down near Mexico. Say’s it’s special! Big medicine! He’s an Indian you know. At least he claims he is. Hell, all them ‘Meskins’ say they’re Indians, I don’t know.” He laughed, and sat on an old wooden chair and began to roll a cigarette. Mike stood there and looked nervous. When he finished rolling he stuck it into his mouth all the way and sealed it. Then he lit it, took a hit and handed it to Mike. “Here.”


The boy looked edgy. Ray looked at him and said, “You can sneak around with a sixteen year old girl over in City Park, but you can’t smoke a joint with her dad, huh? Listen, the next time you’re jacking off and thinking about my little girl just reach around and put your thumb up your ass. I can tell you, if you like that feeling you’re heading for a place where they’ll make you feel like that all the time. Now, take this joint!”

Nervously Mike took the cigarette. He put it to his lips and drew some of the smoke into his mouth. Then he let it out, but didn’t inhale. He started to hand it back to Ray when he heard a car in the drive. Turning he saw Barbara and June coming down the lane. The car rolled up and June got out with her mother. They both started walking into the house, but Ray called out, “June, come out here, hon. The barn!”

She turned and ran for the barn. She was dressed in nice jeans and a pretty flannel top. She came into the barn and walked over to where they were. Mike looked at Ray as if to ask if he were going to get rid of the joint. Ray smiled, handed it to June and said, “Why don’t you show this idiot how to hit a joint, hon?”

June took the cigarette and put it to her lips. She perfectly inhaled the smoke right down into her lungs, and held it there. After a second or two she let out little puffs, one at a time, and then all of the smoke. Smiling, she gave it to Mike. He took the smoke and put it to his lips. June said, “Just draw it right down. C’mon, it won’t make you crazy, just suck it.” She winked.

He did as she asked and felt the smoke come into his mouth, and then down to his lungs. His lungs began to feel “fuzzy” as the smoke rested there, but before the first half second he coughed violently and all of it came out.

“It’s ok, here, try again,” Ray said. He took a second puff, and this time it went down better and he held a bit longer. He let it out. The drug began to take hold, but not in a strong way. It felt light, easy, not harsh. Then he began to get sick. Ray noticed this and told him, “Don’t puke in the barn, go ‘round there and puke.”

Mike went outside and threw up against the wall. When he came back inside the barn Ray told him, “It don’t make you sick, it just makes you feel that way.”

He and June both laughed at the statement. June took the joint and took another hit from it. She closed her bright blue eyes and smiled as the smoke drifted between her perfect teeth. Ray took another hit and killed the joint. He put the remainder back into the cigar box, replaced the rubber band and hid it back behind the hay. He looked at June and said, “You two wanna take a walk over by the cattle tank it’s ok, but don’t be outta sight too long, ok?” Looking at Mike with a half grin, “I’d have to kill you!”

National Emergency The Texas Declaration Of Independence This Is NOT “It!” Where Nothing Is Sacred Flash Bang! Our “Next” Civil War! This Is NOT “It!” The Butcher Shop

The post CigarBox appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Our “Next” Civil War!

Fri, 03/08/2019 - 8:21am

With all the talk about the next Civil War, don’t you think that we should get through with the first one? In the last one hundred and fifty four years we’ve just barely gotten past the Emancipation Proclamation. Lee turned his sword over to Grant and we’ve been sharpening that sword ever since. Then KKK was instantly born, supplanted by Jim Crow, which was pushed back by the civil rights movement (for black folk, not Crackers) that gave us the skinheads, Neo-Nazis, which pissed off the original Black Panthers, New Black Panthers, and then black lives started mattering all over the place, Trump grabbed a pussy so we got the #METOO movement, the perfect compliment for the LBGTQ, and the Mexicans are gonna pay for I all. . And you’re looking for a NEW Civil War? Negro PLEASE! We have a continuing Civil War called the American Dream!

1862. Allan Pinkerton, President Lincoln, and Maj. Gen. John A. McClernand at Antietam.

What caused all this is diversity. America was built and based on diversity. White folks are traditionally the most intolerant species on the planet. While spending time up in Brigham City I noticed a distinct lack of black folk. They did, however, have an abundance of whites of two nationalities. Saints and Gentiles. Now the Saints, naturally were Mormon, while the Gentiles were everybody else. Within the confines of Mormon society there are regular members who struggle to become what they call “Temple,” which are the Ritz brand while the regular members are just plain ol’ crackers. Then there’s the Gentiles. You see, they don’t have enough black folk in Utah, so they take some of the other white folk and make THEM the black folk! It’s called natural intolerance.

When the Pilgrims landed in 1620 there were approximately one hundred and two Caucasians and around fifty million Indians in North America. . Naturally we were a bit more “tolerant” back then. Then we opened Ellis Island and after giving the Native Americans smallpox, we began to manifest our destiny all the way to L. A. All the while folks of all breeds and creeds poured in to fill the gaps. Limeys, spics, krauts, fat dagos, hebes, ragheads and chinks. We got ‘em all! Oh yeah! And more than a few boatloads of Africans because SOMEbody had to pick the cotton and pour the tea. What could possibly go wrong?

America was the “Great Experiment.” Mix all these multi-colored folks in with the folks that gave us the Crusades and the Hundred Years War. And these Europeans are all the same. Remember, this is what chased the Pilgrims off in the first place. They look down their noses at America all the while lamenting the fact that Muslims are overrunning THEM! From day one America gas been working with this and we STILL are. And it’s WORKING! That’s why we are AmeriCANs and you’re EuroCAN’Ts!

As long as we were BUILDING America it was all good. Mexicans poured the concrete and Chinese laid the railroad tracks. But, after that was all accomplished there was a twist. In all experiments there is a “control.” It’s like you see what happens but you mess with it to see what happens “if.” Well, the control here is to take the minorities, stir ‘em up, and make the white folk ill at ease. Hence the Liberal Race.

Well, the white folk got ill at ease five minutes after the ink died on the Constitution. That’s ‘cause we’re basically a nation of hypocrites. You see, noble words like, “All men are created equal,” sounds good and all, but let’s be honest here. Them was all old white guys in that room, ok? Jus’ sayin’. Your basic run of the mill liberal is all about dragging racism into any political discussion until their blonde haired, blue eyed, big breasted daughter ends up with R. Kelly and then he becomes a ”monster!”

So, in 1865 we jumped on our damn selves to free the slaves. The Civil War was bad! How bad was it? Well, we lost about fifty thousand in Vietnam. There were about that many dead at Gettysburg. And while Nam was a highly mechanized machine gun war, the soldiers at Gettysburg rammed their bullets down their rifle barrels, one shot at a time with a coat hanger. Oh, FYI, coat hangers are still being used for killing down at Planned Parenthood. And what does Planned Parenthood mainly kill? Black babies! Gotta watch them PeckerWoods. They’ll git cha ever time!

This all having been said, the question of equality survived the active Civil War and continued up until today as we try to tweak the Constitution to get around what it really says. All men are created equal. Now that’s not imply that women are equal. They’re equalER! So as Muslims pour in from the Middle East, Mexicans spill over Trump’s wall, and Occasional Cortez fights to get a statue of Karl Marx erected in Times Square, America will continue to try to reconcile our continuing Civil War. Smallpox anyone?

The Butcher Shop

The post Our “Next” Civil War! appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

This Is NOT “It!”

Thu, 03/07/2019 - 7:04am

This is NOT “it!” LBGTQ and sometimes X, the X meaning they don’t know which hole to stick it in, is the full evolution of the perversion of America that began some time ago. “Leaving Neverland,” an HBO production about Michael Jackson, has raised new questions, or rather confirmations about this drug addicted pedophile.

When Jackson died it kind of whitewashed his image. Sorry. Bad choice of words, but for all intents and purposes his overdose was a good career move. At the end of his life Michael Jackson was a dried up has been praying to God that the ”This Is It” tour really was ”it” and would make his career at least solvent again.

His family took over and actually Jackson made more money dancing in Hell than he ever did on stage. As the years went by his image got cleaner and cleaner, supported by his aging, adoring fans until the fact that he really got into little boys receded into the annals of time.

But, when the HBO production hit the air, and the two little boys, now men said, ”Yep, he done it,” Michael was dancing again . . . NAKED! Even Oprah said, ”DAMN!” Taking a second look, even die-hard fans began to ease away. I mean, it’s hard to look at your grandson, and picture him at Neverland.

From Michael’s day until now we’ve come from your average, everyday run of the mill child molester all the way to Drag Queen Story Time. Are you worried about nuclear war? You should! It’s gonna take a nuclear war just to disinfect us! Wide is the gate and narrow the way, and I’m here to tell you that there ain’t no way in HELL those fat bastards down at the Montrose Library are getting through.

Due to the HBO production, Jackson’s image is fading. His supporters say it’s unfair to attack him when he is no longer here to defend himself. It’s more like he is no longer around to throw up a publicity smokescreen hiding what he really was. A homosexual child molester. This isn’t fifty shades of grey. It’s fifty shades of probable cause!

The Butcher Shop

The post This Is NOT “It!” appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Where Nothing Is Sacred

Wed, 03/06/2019 - 5:41am

From the Mind of a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas:
There is nothing left in society that’s sacred.

Proverbs 31:8-9 King James Version
8 Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction. (In other words, speak for those who can’t speak for themselves)
9 Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy.

We go back into the Bible and see that the Tower of Babal was the first attempt at the New World Order, The first attempt to spit in God’s face. Nothing has changed in that time. Baal Worship and Child sacrifice goes all the way back to ancient times. There is no other deity more mentioned in the Bible than Baal. Child sacrifice was absolutely central to the worship of Baal. When it was time for another ceremony, unwanted babies would be gathered and murder, We have simply changed tactics- Planned Parenthood Worship. Molechi worship hasn’t changed, it simple changed tactics. Look around you today, it’s almost as women celebrate their right to kill the unborn and more recently the newly born.

I don’t understand why people can’t see the warning signs that’s all around us. “A tsunami of wishful thinking has washed across our land saying that you can have sex without the responsibility of marriage, children without the responsibility of parenthood, social order without the responsibility of citizenship, liberty without the responsibility of morality and self-esteem without the responsibility of work and earned achievement.”

Worship of Baal, complete with child sacrifice and orgies, has returned with a vengeance in our land, disguised in the name of freedom, Our culture has incorporated the most extreme elements that seriously challenge Judeo-Christian beliefs and values. Sadly our churches are condoning it. Some of the churches have even incorporated it into their practices graying the lines between what God said was right and what man says is right. It’s a tragedy that a pastors of these Mega Churches who pastor “So-Called Christians” would join the ranks of those blurring the moral lines about killing pre-born babies.

My Bible tells me God is the same Today as he was yesterday, and will be the same tomorrow, he doesn’t change his mind willy nilly. What was wrong yesterday is still wrong today, and nothing man says and no matter what laws man changes to suite the times, makes it right.

In Acts ( That’s the fifth book of the New Testament for those who don’t know) we learned that we must obey God rather than man, even if it means going to jail for standing strong for those belief’s.

“Live by your own convictions” is practically the slogan of the Churches today. If it feels right, it’s okay, appears to be the message of many of these preachers.

Train your son up in the way he should go and when he’s older he won’t depart from it. Satan knows this is true, so he uses it against us. Train people in the wrong doctrine, and the wrong ideas, and when they get older it gets almost impossible to convince them of the truth. In fact they’re lost for good, unless they have a spirit of truth within themselves. They have to be willing to place truth above all else. Above their job, their marriage, their friends, their family, their finances, etc. Not an easy thing to do.

99% of the people are on the wrong track these days and don’t have a clue because of the intense brainwashing they went through growing up in the typical 501C3 or ‘incorporated’ church. It’s a business folks, a corporation.

Unlike some others, I blame the Pastor’s for the downfall of our once “Christian Nation”. Through incorporation, they’ve converted our churches into corporations, and given the ownership and control of the church over to the State of _ (insert the name of your State). By doing so, they’ve shed the constitutional protections that our fathers fought and died for, and traded their inalienable right in the first article of the Bill Of Rights, for a privilege granted by the government. More importantly, they’ve violated the very first command of God, “There shall be no other God to you, except MYSELF”. They’ve allowed to State to tell the Church what it can do, and what it can’t do, in violation of scripture, and in violation of the State and Federal Constitutions.

Let me explain myself. The Johnson Amendment and the 501c3 is illegal.

If you say that ‘OH, but they have to follow the laws of the State’; I would mention that according to the First Article of the Bill Of Rights, there are no legitimate laws State or Federal that tell Churches anything whatsoever. The State can’t pass a law contrary to the Bill Of Rights either, and whatever laws there are on the books today that apply to Churches, they’re null and void according to the wording of the first article of the Bill Of Rights!

The Congressman or Legislators that passed those laws basically have committed treason! There’s your true ‘Separation of Church and State’. It’s right there in Article 1 where it tells Congress that it has no power to tell a Church what to do! A 501-C3 is illegal illegal on it’s face. The Johnson Amendment violates the First Amendment to the Constitution

Well heck, What do I know about such things, Everyone of you know, I’m just a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas.

The Butcher Shop

The post Where Nothing Is Sacred appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Flash Bang!

Tue, 03/05/2019 - 6:26am

Flash bang usually refers to a type of explosive device that police throw into a HomeBoy’s crib right before they ram the door and shoot all his kids. But, there’s another type of flash bang, and it’s political. It seems one went off in Washington yesterday. Deputy Speaker of the House, Occasional-Cortez was the recipient thereof.

Now, please understand, I’m all for some kid making good, ok? Twenty-nine year old bartender from The Bronx. Kinda reminds you of Lavern and Shirley, doesn’t it? Didn’t they work in a brewery? Beat some ten-term incumbent. Ain’t that America? Waving and smiling. Then somebody had to go and turn on the microphone! Flash bang!

First off, it appears that Cortez didn’t exactly win the election from the votes of the homeless down in the Bronx. Kinda had some fat cat supporter who gave her so much money that a million or so got shuffled around like the Democrats are always trying to pin on Trump. Now I’m just a Simple Ol’ Boy From Austin, but we have a sayin’ down here in Texas. When you tip a hot young bartender over a million bucks yo’ wife gone be mad!

She began with the “New Green Deal.” Hey, I’m cool with that. Knock all the airplanes out of the air, stick corks up the cows’ asses; I’ve come to expect that kind of legislation to proceed from the Democrat Party. But now she has ascended to glory, and told the left wing of the congress that if they don’t vote HER way, it’s The HIGHway! Flash bang. She just got President Trump his Wall with her lovely little mouth! Shades of Stormy Daniels!

In short, she said, not implied mind you, SAID, that any Democrat not following the party line, ie, HER line, will be primaried. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s where an incumbent politician has to go home, explain theyself, and lose the primary to someone like Occasional-Cortez. Kinda like making a general take basic training again.

There is a Populist revolution occurring in this country right now. I don’t know if you noticed or not, but Cortez is not the only Newbie in town. We have a real estate broker living in the White House who never ran for dog catcher. These upstarts have some good ideas, and don’t take too kindly to the bartender talking back! Especially when it suddenly revealed that she rode the same old Tammany Hall subway that’s been there all along. Last call Cortez!

The Butcher Shop

The post Flash Bang! appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

National Emergency

Mon, 03/04/2019 - 8:42am

National Emergency. Let that soak in. What is a national emergency? Well, an F5 tornado in Alabama. That’s a national emergency. How about a 7.0 earthquake in California. A tariff on Tequila. HEY! That’s a national emergency in Texas. C’mon now!

To throw national emergencies around like candy sets a precedent that can grow out of proportion. You see, that’s how government works. Like Rome, back in the day. Caesar got into power. Rome had been sliding for a while. No free pizza, wine running low, prostitutes getting old and ugly. So Julius looks around and tells the Roman Senate that a national emergency was at hand. Now, never mind that he, himself had tore it all up wading across the Rubicon, forget that! If they would just declare him Emperor for a short while, he’d Make Rome Great Again. Well, before it was all over they had to kill him to shut him up.

Yet, they just couldn’t get that word “emperor” out of their mouths. So, although Caesar was gone, his precedent lived on. For almost five HUNDRED years until they changed the title to “Pope” who presides over whatEVER the Catholic Church considers itself today, don’t get me started!

If Trump’s edict that Mexicans are a national emergency makes the cut it will set the stage to lend a huge go-around in our government. Now, I don’t like democrats as much as the next racist redneck, although I do like Cortez, but that’s just because I’m a dirty old man, but this goes beyond red baseball caps, ok? This concerns to delegation of power. Did you ever notice how suddenly the government is doing something that is completely unconstitutional, and has been doing it for quite some time while people keep asking, “How’d this ever happen?” That’s because they got away with it the FIRST time! Like marriage licenses. Buying a wife! How Islamic is THAT? The first time a dollar was paid to go to Church and get married we no longer had freedom of religion or separation of church and state. And to show you how stupid the LBGTQ is, they moved heaven and earth to invite the government into THEIR bedroom, complete with a divorce package. Hey! Why should THEY be happy, right?

Just like taxes. California just taxed cow farts. An entire state living under a marijuana haze concerning itself with cattle passing gas! By the way, that’s why I’m so attracted to Cortez. She’s pretty AND stupid. I’m a misogynist too! Let’s see. So far in this article I’ve admitted that I’m a racist, a dirty old man, and a misogynist. I’m battling a thousand today, and it’s only Monday. Save your fork. Week’s just getting STARTED!

How far can it go? Ok. In two to four years a Democrat President does a speech. Gonna go something like this. (Imagine Donald Trump’s voice when you read this.)

“For quite some time a condition has existed in our great country. A condition that has endangered millions of people. People like these wonderful mothers seated behind me. Please, stand up. Show everyone the pictures of your beautiful children, taken at such a young age. I’ve asked Congress for the money to put a stop to this, and, as you know, although Congress approved it, the senate has adamantly refused to confirm the will of you, the American people! Now, I really don’t have to do this. I can find the money elsewhere, but in the interest of expediency, and the safety of our wonderful country, I am declaring today a national emergency. I’m signing an executive order outlawing all guns weighing over six ounces. This will ensure the safety of the American people. Not only that, but the resources required for the manufacture of such weapons can be redirected to more productive things. Such as filters for gassy cows, or more equipment for our wonderful police to protect you. These weapons may be turned over to police, where the owners will be compensated with iTune Cards. This blending of big business and the people is so American, so American. And I promise you, that new, and better prisons will be built to contain anyone who stands against me, or Speaker of the House, Cortez, and the Mexicans . . . the Mexicans are gonna pay for it!

The Butcher Shop

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The Texas Declaration Of Independence

Sun, 03/03/2019 - 6:04am

Happy Texas Independence Day!

Pictured here is the George Childress statue at Washington on Brazos, where the Texas Declaration of Independence was signed on March 2, 1836. Childress is often called the Thomas Jefferson of Texas because he wrote the Texas Declaration. Childress County in the Panhandle and the county seat by the same name are his namesakes.

Here are the words he wrote and that Texans adopted on March 2, 1836:

The Unanimous Declaration of Independence
made by the Delegates of the People of Texas
in General Convention at the town of Washington
on the 2nd day of March 1836.

When a government has ceased to protect the lives, liberty and property of the people, from whom its legitimate powers are derived, and for the advancement of whose happiness it was instituted, and so far from being a guarantee for the enjoyment of those inestimable and inalienable rights, becomes an instrument in the hands of evil rulers for their oppression.

When the Federal Republican Constitution of their country, which they have sworn to support, no longer has a substantial existence, and the whole nature of their government has been forcibly changed, without their consent, from a restricted federative republic, composed of sovereign states, to a consolidated central military despotism, in which every interest is disregarded but that of the army and the priesthood, both the eternal enemies of civil liberty, the everready minions of power, and the usual instruments of tyrants.

When, long after the spirit of the constitution has departed, moderation is at length so far lost by those in power, that even the semblance of freedom is removed, and the forms themselves of the constitution discontinued, and so far from their petitions and remonstrances being regarded, the agents who bear them are thrown into dungeons, and mercenary armies sent forth to force a new government upon them at the point of the bayonet.

When, in consequence of such acts of malfeasance and abdication on the part of the government, anarchy prevails, and civil society is dissolved into its original elements. In such a crisis, the first law of nature, the right of self-preservation, the inherent and inalienable rights of the people to appeal to first principles, and take their political affairs into their own hands in extreme cases, enjoins it as a right towards themselves, and a sacred obligation to their posterity, to abolish such government, and create another in its stead, calculated to rescue them from impending dangers, and to secure their future welfare and happiness.

Nations, as well as individuals, are amenable for their acts to the public opinion of mankind. A statement of a part of our grievances is therefore submitted to an impartial world, in justification of the hazardous but unavoidable step now taken, of severing our political connection with the Mexican people, and assuming an independent attitude among the nations of the earth.

The Mexican government, by its colonization laws, invited and induced the Anglo-American population of Texas to colonize its wilderness under the pledged faith of a written constitution, that they should continue to enjoy that constitutional liberty and republican government to which they had been habituated in the land of their birth, the United States of America.

In this expectation they have been cruelly disappointed, inasmuch as the Mexican nation has acquiesced in the late changes made in the government by General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, who having overturned the constitution of his country, now offers us the cruel alternative, either to abandon our homes, acquired by so many privations, or submit to the most intolerable of all tyranny, the combined despotism of the sword and the priesthood.

It has sacrificed our welfare to the state of Coahuila, by which our interests have been continually depressed through a jealous and partial course of legislation, carried on at a far distant seat of government, by a hostile majority, in an unknown tongue, and this too, notwithstanding we have petitioned in the humblest terms for the establishment of a separate state government, and have, in accordance with the provisions of the national constitution, presented to the general Congress a republican constitution, which was, without just cause, contemptuously rejected.

It incarcerated in a dungeon, for a long time, one of our citizens, for no other cause but a zealous endeavor to procure the acceptance of our constitution, and the establishment of a state government.

It has failed and refused to secure, on a firm basis, the right of trial by jury, that palladium of civil liberty, and only safe guarantee for the life, liberty, and property of the citizen.

It has failed to establish any public system of education, although possessed of almost boundless resources, (the public domain,) and although it is an axiom in political science, that unless a people are educated and enlightened, it is idle to expect the continuance of civil liberty, or the capacity for self government.

It has suffered the military commandants, stationed among us, to exercise arbitrary acts of oppression and tyrrany, thus trampling upon the most sacred rights of the citizens, and rendering the military superior to the civil power.

It has dissolved, by force of arms, the state Congress of Coahuila and Texas, and obliged our representatives to fly for their lives from the seat of government, thus depriving us of the fundamental political right of representation.

It has demanded the surrender of a number of our citizens, and ordered military detachments to seize and carry them into the Interior for trial, in contempt of the civil authorities, and in defiance of the laws and the constitution.

It has made piratical attacks upon our commerce, by commissioning foreign desperadoes, and authorizing them to seize our vessels, and convey the property of our citizens to far distant ports for confiscation.

It denies us the right of worshipping the Almighty according to the dictates of our own conscience, by the support of a national religion, calculated to promote the temporal interest of its human functionaries, rather than the glory of the true and living God.

It has demanded us to deliver up our arms, which are essential to our defence, the rightful property of freemen, and formidable only to tyrannical governments.

It has invaded our country both by sea and by land, with intent to lay waste our territory, and drive us from our homes; and has now a large mercenary army advancing, to carry on against us a war of extermination.

It has, through its emissaries, incited the merciless savage, with the tomahawk and scalping knife, to massacre the inhabitants of our defenseless frontiers.

It hath been, during the whole time of our connection with it, the contemptible sport and victim of successive military revolutions, and hath continually exhibited every characteristic of a weak, corrupt, and tyrranical government.

These, and other grievances, were patiently borne by the people of Texas, until they reached that point at which forbearance ceases to be a virtue. We then took up arms in defence of the national constitution. We appealed to our Mexican brethren for assistance. Our appeal has been made in vain. Though months have elapsed, no sympathetic response has yet been heard from the Interior. We are, therefore, forced to the melancholy conclusion, that the Mexican people have acquiesced in the destruction of their liberty, and the substitution therfor of a military government; that they are unfit to be free, and incapable of self government.

The necessity of self-preservation, therefore, now decrees our eternal political separation. We, therefore, the delegates with plenary powers of the people of Texas, in solemn convention assembled, appealing to a candid world for the necessities of our condition, do hereby resolve and declare, that our political connection with the Mexican nation has forever ended, and that the people of Texas do now constitute a free, Sovereign, and independent republic, and are fully invested with all the rights and attributes which properly belong to independent nations; and, conscious of the rectitude of our intentions, we fearlessly and confidently commit the issue to the decision of the Supreme arbiter of the destinies of nations.

Richard Ellis, President of the Convention and Delegate
from Red River

Charles B. Stewart

Tho. Barnett

John S. D. Byrom

Francis Ruis

J. Antonio Navarro

Jesse B. Badgett

Wm D. Lacy

William Menifee

Jn. Fisher

Matthew Caldwell

William Motley

Lorenzo de Zavala

Stephen H. Everett

George W. Smyth

Elijah Stapp

Claiborne West

Wm. B. Scates

M. B. Menard

A. B. Hardin

J. W. Burton

Thos. J. Gazley

R. M. Coleman

James Collinsworth

Edwin Waller

Asa Brigham

Geo. C. Childress

Bailey Hardeman

Rob. Potter

Thomas Jefferson Rusk

Chas. S. Taylor

John S. Roberts

Robert Hamilton

Collin McKinney

Albert H. Latimer

James Power

Sam Houston

David Thomas

Edwd. Conrad

Martin Parmer

Edwin O. Legrand

Stephen W. Blount

Jms. Gaines

Wm. Clark, Jr.

Sydney O. Pennington

Wm. Carrol Crawford

Jno. Turner

Sterling C. Robertson

The Butcher Shop

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CigarBox – Catfish Nights

Sat, 03/02/2019 - 6:24am

A wedding of epic magnitude can be a healing event or it can be a destructive thing. Such a wedding was in the works that Friday night at Fat Eddie’s Catfish Emporium. Claudette was only playing for time, trying to let the steam off of the little relationship between Mike and June, but Barbara was preceding full tilt toward Mike’s eighteenth birthday. The whole town knew about it. Mike’s older brother, Buddy was in town, and he wanted catfish, also. He hadn’t seen June in the last two years, least ways not that he could remember, so the opportunity was being taken to reacquaint them at this particular Friday night.

After graduation, he had gone to work in Houston. He was a diesel mechanic and the demand was very good there with the shipping trade. He would make a trip up to the little town about three, or four times a year, but up until now June was just one more high school girl that Mike knew.

He and Mike were stepbrothers, his father being a builder, and Claudette his stepmother. Before the marriage, he had been the oldest son, but with the advent of Mike there were actually two oldest sons
now, Buddy being more than a year older than Mike. The adopted Angie didn’t come into play because she was a girl, and the boys didn’t mind her much. She kept off to herself for the most part and when she did say anything it was largely ignored. Then there was the youngest brother who was very fat, slightly retarded and addicted to food. Tommy took care of this stepbrother and saw that he looked good at all public gatherings. But Buddy and Mike were at opposite ends of the Texas universe. The rivalry between the two was non-stop, bordering on a genuine hate. Each boy would do anything they could devise to hurt the other. The parents hoped that as they grew older this would wane. It did not. The animosity spilled over into Bill and Claudette’s marriage on more than one occasion. Bill had come to suspect that there was something genetically wrong with Mike.

The town had been buzzing about the affair between Mike and June for some time now. Ray was observed that Saturday morning in the verbal altercation between himself and Bill, and though Bill had tried to graciously pull back so as not to embarrass the little man it had not worked very well, and it was common knowledge that the situation was a genuine power play between the two families.

And the situation was very simple. In Texas a seventeen year old could be certified as an adult. A judge could view Mike’s liaison with June as statutory rape! When he became eighteen, and if he kept seeing June, which there was really no doubt that he would, Mike could very well end up in a situation of criminal proportions and end up hauled into court and go to jail! This was the thing that Claudette was fighting against, however Bill thought the boy most likely deserved it. He had never approved of what Mike was doing, and he knew about the girl over on Commerce Street, the daughter of the deputy. To Bill’s way of thinking it was high time that Mike got “jacked” for his shenanigans. His sons never got caught up in this kind of stuff, and Mike seemed to be forever in the middle of it.

In the middle of this supercharged political situation two pickup trucks and a car were loaded for Fat Eddie’s that Friday night. They all arrived at the same time and parked in the rear. Fat Eddie had a golf cart to bring patrons around to the front of the establishment. All the employees except the cooks wore tuxedos on Friday night. The golf cart driver had one, too, and she (that’s right “she”) would pick up the people six at a time, and with great ceremony, bring them around to the front parking lot from the back parking lot.

The waiting room, if it could be called that, was a sitting area in the parking lot. Eddy had bought some five dollar chairs at Wal Mart and set them all around the front lot so the elite could enter their names and wait until they were called to dine upon the ultimate in red neck cuisine. There was even a piece of art on the front window of two catfish in a formal gown and a tux walking into a door. The gentleman fish was asking, “Where to you want to be on Friday night toots,” to which the lady catfish replies, “I wouldn’t think of going anywhere but Fat Eddie’s Catfish Emporium!”

The patrons would sit and chat in the parking lot under the warm Texas dusk. Everyone who was anyone was there. Lawyers, Judges, police, schoolteachers, and even the local vagabonds, and riff raff came, for all were equal and welcome at Fat Eddie’s Catfish Emporium. Fat Eddie himself was the chief cook in the kitchen. The hot grease, (exactly 475 degrees) was kept at the ready. Fat Eddie had a trick he used to see if the grease was just right. He’d put a big ol’ kitchen match in it, and when it hit 475, boom; that match would go off like a sparkler! Eddie mixed up a special batch of his secret hot batter that gave the catfish a “special” bite. And, to boot, these were only farm-raised catfish. They had been well fed and kept happy all of their lives!

Every Friday night had to have a main topic of conversation. The football team never won, so it had to be something else. An affair was usually good food for thought. There was very little to do in the little community except drink and fornicate so there was always a good supply of gossip in that area. Sometimes a murder, but the police in this town never caught anyone but drunks, so unless the killer was a drunk it usually went unsolved, and that wouldn’t make good conversation. This Friday, however, there was really a story circulating! June the cat was trying to marry Mike because they had been slipping off to City Park! The couple had thought that their little liaisons were secret, but to be honest there was an alley cat in the back of Fat Eddie’s, and even that alley cat knew all about their shenanigans!

Mike was startled to find Ray was already seated and consuming his third plate of fish when they arrived. June made sure that her stepfather had all the fish he wanted. He looked up from the plate as they walked in, but did a head count, and quickly looked back down at his fish. June’s honor didn’t rank that much fight. He had made the decision in his life never to go back to jail. Ray had learned to use his head for these types of fights. In addition to that, Angie was with them, just down from Dallas where she was a chiropractor. He noticed Buddy also. Buddy had a reputation from high school of being just a little left of center. He’d once stormed off a roof he was working on to knock out a man who had insulted him from a car. The combination of respectability, and Buddy put him on notice.

They positioned themselves in line and waited the call to eat. When it came, they were seated in the same dining room as Ray. Fat Eddie’s had three different rooms in which the famished were served. The waitress came over with menus, but the family all just raised their hands and said, “Tea, catfish.” Even Doctor Angie ordered the fish. First, however they had to “eat the bean.” The cafe served a big Mexican bowl of pinto beans with Tabasco on the side for the so inclined, and lots of onions. By the time they had finished the beans the fish arrived. Four steaming pieces of catfish, a little plastic cup of the absolute worse Cole slaw you ever put in your mouth, two hush puppies (and not the kind momma used to make, but the little round ones they got out of Austin,) and French fries. There was ketchup, and tartar sauce to season the fish, or the Tabasco that was left on the table from the beans. Fat Eddie had a cost cutting measure also. When the bean bowl was taken back to the kitchen, he would pour the uneaten beans back into the big pot.

They began to eat and look around at the crowd. As usual, the people sat in groups, all chatting, and trying not to look at the table where the Montgomerys were all sitting, and the waitress had to push two long tables together to accommodate all the family. Claudette actually hated catfish, having had to eat too much “mud-cat” in her life on the Mississippi, but ate to fulfill the ritual. (And people wonder where religious rituals come from, and how they get so entrenched!) Then came the “seconds.” This is the part that June played in. She came around with her “tux” on and her platter of hot catfish steaming. On the edge of the platter were refill portions of slaw, fries and puppies if the patron so desired, but very few were stupid enough to take any more of them and usually opted for the “cat.” June’s nickname “June the Cat,” had stemmed not from an old Tennessee Williams name, but actually referring to her service at the Emporium.

Buddy had never seen her this well grown, and up close like this. She leaned over him and refilled his plate and his reaction brought a jest from Angie of, “Careful little brother! That one’s taken. I believe Mike has her in his corral.” He smiled sheepishly and went back to eating the catfish June had just put on his plate. Still, he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she walked away from the table and filled other plates, including her stepfather’s at the table directly across from theirs. She had filled out perfectly. As she bent over to fill the plates Buddy was captivated by her legs, and form.
Barbara showed up late and went right to Mike’s table and said hello to the group.

“Mike, are you gonna come out and see June tomorrow? We’ll be out at Ray’s mom’s ranch, and she’d love to see you.”

Mike was stunned, but he glanced over at Ray and the bald headed man was not looking very aggressive right then. Michael correctly deduced that there must be more going on behind the scenes than even he knew about. He didn’t really know what to say, but he looked at his mother, who said, “Hey, you’re a man now. You go and meet little girls at City Park. You have to make these decisions!”

He could feel his face getting red. He’d thought that those meetings were hidden. Never mind that they were in the only real lover’s lane in town, and that the whole town was watching him anyway. He thought all but him and June retired at 7:30 sharp!

“You know about that?” He looked a bit astonished.

Tommy, his younger brother looked up from his plate, “You wanna buy pictures, Mike?”

Mike looked down at his plate. Barbara moved in for the kill. “Look, kid, you wanna see my daughter you’re gonna have to do it in the light of day. You’re gonna have to face Ray; he may kick your butt, but you are gonna have to face him, and you’re gonna have to do the right thing.”

“I love her.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you do. Still, you gotta come out and do the right thing.” She leaned down, “Look kid, if Ray sees you a lot then he’ll get used to you, ok. Just do it my way.”

All this time Claudette sat silently and let Barbara do her bit. She was actually upset, but she didn’t want an incident and she didn’t want him to go to the jail
either. Like Barbara, she knew that June wasn’t pregnant, so she’d just wait until Mike lost interest in her and moved along to another girl. That shouldn’t take long. Mike never seemed to stick with anything very long, and this shouldn’t be any exception to the rule.

Buddy watched June for the rest of the dinner. The poise, the heart shaped lips, the long blonde hair going through the little “Catfish” cap, all served as a lure for the boy. He and Mike had never really gotten along, and this gave him one more reason to be upset with him. As pointed out before, these two had a rivalry that went far and above the normal ones between brothers. Buddy’s mother had died of cancer about the same time rancher Stillwell’s wife had succumbed to the illness. When his father had married Claudette, he had looked to his adopted sister Angie as a role model and the older girl had been a good one, in spite of being Claudette’s adopted niece. Mike was spoiled, and Buddy was the classic older child. The two never mixed. Mike could never do anything right. Combine that with the fact that Buddy was a fighter, and Mike was not, and you have the mix for a perfect hate club.

June went from table to table giving out fish. Ray watched without letting them know he was watching. Barbara went over to sit with him. June didn’t have to take her order because she knew what her mother would want. She would want the same as everybody else, catfish. June signaled a dishwasher who brought a plate and she filled it directly from the tray, which was basically against the rule, but it was overlooked for June.

This setting was almost “hallowed ground,” and no one would start a fight, or even a heavy discussion here for fear that the catfish night would end. There were never any cops called to Fat Eddies, mainly because they were all there eating anyway. Finally, though, Mike’s stepfather and mother went over and sat at Barbara and Ray’s table. Before anyone could speak, however, Ray said, “I don’t want to talk about it. It has me really upset!”

Mike’s stepfather nodded, “Us too. I think these kids are out of control…”

“Yours a little more than mine! She’s sixteen!”

“I know that, but look at it this way, she’s only one year younger than Mike. It’s not like he’s in his thirties.”

“Good thing, too, else I’d have him in jail!”

This was just a bluff. Nobody was going to jail over this matter unless the two men got in a fight right there in the café. Ray was putting on a good show to let everyone know he had good morals, no doubt taught to him in prison. Just then, June came over with some more fish.

“Ya’ll want me to bring some plates over here?”

“No, hon,” Bill said, “we’re just about finished.”

“What ya’ll got on your minds over here?”

The four adults looked at the girl as if she was crazy. What did she think they had on their minds? June just stared back at them. “I’m gonna marry Mike. That’s all there is to it. If ya’ll don’t like it ya’ll can just jump up, but I’m gonna marry Mike. Now, if ya’ll can’t get together on where and how, we’ll just run off to Mexico.”

“Won’t be legal,” her stepfather said.

“Who said I’d be comin’ back?”

Barbara spoke up, “Oh, honey, you don’t wanna do nothing like that. Mexico? You’d be down there with all them Mexicans? They sell girls like you down there. We’ll work this out. You and Mike can see each other. I think this whole thing’s done got out of control.”

June leaned back, resting her catfish platter on her hip, “You mean that?”

“Sure, baby! Sure, I mean that. You can go and see Mike, and I’m sure he will be able to come out to Mommaw’s ranch, huh Ray?”

Claudette said, “June, you been coming over to our house for Christmas since, God, since I don’t know how long. We ain’t gonna stop that, now are we. Don’t you even think about no Mexico, you hear. We love you. We don’t want you down there getting all kidnapped, ok?”

“Ok, but I wanna be able to see Mike!”

All the adults nodded consent, surprising all at the table, but not the people in the restaurant, because that’s what this meeting was all about. It was not about so much if June and Mike would be together, as when, and how. The only person who seemed disappointed by this event was Buddy, sitting at the end of the table his father and stepmother had just left. His sister Angie noticed his face and asked, “Something on your mind, Bud?”

“No, fish just not sitting right, that’s all.”

Angie was wise beyond her years. She looked at Buddy, and then at June, still basking in her glory in her victory at being able to see Mike. She couldn’t help but notice that June kept giving glances over to the table where she and Buddy were sitting.

Veronica and her guide sat in the corner of Eddie’s Catfish House and watched all of this transpire with no comment. Then the man spoke, “Did you have an interest in Bud at this early date?”

She looked over across the café to where Buddy was sitting, “I was drawn to him. I liked the way he looked. I wouldn’t really call it an interest.”

“He has an interest in you. Don’t you think you should date one brother at a time?”

It was the first time he’d really asked her a loaded question. June showed her savvy, though, “How do you know I dated two brothers? I thought you were a neutral angel.”

He smiled sheepishly, “I didn’t check my brain in when I had my car crash, and I am a man not an angel. I keep telling you that, Veronica. I can see what’s in your eyes. You love the ‘kill;’ to know you can bend a man your way; make him do what you want him to do.”


He watched as the perfect lips formed a little smile on the ends of her mouth. The sky blue eyes twinkled. He could virtually feel her intellect taking control of this situation. She wasn’t shamed at all by his insinuation. Indeed, she accepted his judgment of her actions, but she was like a cougar, killing a deer. She felt no remorse, for the cougar must survive.

“Is it sin, if you don’t know it is sin?”

“But you know.”

“Do I?”

Her stare went cold. She rose and walked to the door. He went behind her. She passed June at sixteen years of age giving out more catfish to the hungry cowboys. The spirit guide reached and picked a piece of catfish from the platter. June did not see him, but kept handing the fish out to the people. They walked into the parking lot.

She went over by the blinking neon light reminding passing motorists that Fat Eddie’s was open, open, open. He came behind her still chewing his piece of fish.

“You don’t have to be so hard on me. There are things you should be nice about, and keep to yourself. You never lived in west Texas, Dr. Angel.”

“Veronica, there are some things you are going to have to understand, if we are going to get through this thing. There is no sin that is unforgivable, but you have to know you did it. You are sitting in eternity laughing at men who fall in love with you, and using them.”

Her eyes flared, “Do you see them in there? Do you see all that money and power? Look at me! I’m one girl, and a small one at that! You think I should pity them for letting the little head get harder than the big one?”

He was surprised at her stooping to such slang, but it revealed a part of her that he hadn’t seen, and perhaps he needed to now. She very rarely bared her teeth and claws, but for a brief moment she did here and now. He was reminded of a tiger that slips silently up on its prey, making no noise until the final rush, and death!

“You should know right from wrong.”

“Well, ‘Doctor Angel,’ I guess I’ll just have to work on that, huh?”

Dear Hillary How To Retire At The Holiday Inn The Fall Of Civilizations PeckerWoods of the World Unite! The Wrath Of God The Educational Industrial Complex Cortez The Butcher Shop

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Cortez

Fri, 03/01/2019 - 9:49am

Alexandria Ocassio Cortez actually showed a moment of cunning yesterday. After addressing the different valuations of President Trump’s holdings, she inquired if it might be beneficial for the House Oversight Committee to examine the two valuations on the property tax rolls as compared to Income Tax returns. Mr. New York disbarred lawyer walked right into it replying, “Yes!” Cortez basically handed him his face by setting up a virtual subpoena of Trump’s tax return, something none of the other airheads in Congress have been able to do, Democrat or Republican!

Now let’s talk about real estate valuation. There is a thing called “Market Value” as opposed to “Tax Evaluation.” No one in their right mind goes down to the county tax accessor’s office arguing that their property is valued too low! I can’t count the number of real estate clients I had who upon looking up a property on the tax rolls, wanted to offer that amount to buy the house. I would patiently explain Market Value to them, which is how much someone is prepared to pay vs what the owner is willing to take.

For Donald Trump to get a taxable number of five million while at the same time says the property was worth fifty million to him is not illegal, and is perfect marketing. Ms Cortez knows this. Cohen knows this. He was a real estate lawyer but led the people listening to believe that this method was some kind of huge criminal conspiracy. Cortez simply used it to fulfill her real agenda, getting Trump’s income tax returns.

This is the first time a liar, convicted of lying to a committee, was brought up as an expert witness by that very same committee! Did they think he found Jesus? With some accusations, all opinions by the way, vague events, and suppositions about things he thought he heard, Cohen tried to whittle away at his time in the slam. When Polly says, “Polly wants a cracker” she’s telling the truth but all jail birds lie.

He had put this show off until now because he claimed Trump was stalking and threatening him. Good thing he wasn’t going to testify against Hillary. He’d have been dead on Monday. He claims that Trump is a lying, racist, conman, but he worked for him right up until the FBI kicked in his door. He showed up that day like King David and left like a little girl.

He says that he and Trump had no retainer agreement, and that money he got every month was to launder the hush money paid to that pole dancer for her story. So we are supposed to believe he was working pro-bono, right? Save your fork, it gets better.

When he had sense enough to cover his tracks by not outright claiming that while he never heard Trump actually tell anyone to collude with the Russians, everyone knew what their orders were concerning this by the way he held his head. They were all mind readers, huh?

While claiming to take responsibility for his lies the first time before the committee, he now says he was just reading a statement prepared by Trump’s lawyers. That’s New York for, “I wasn’t wid dem brothas!”

And, for all his connections, lies, crooked deals, and power influence, Michael Cohen, supposed “fixer” for the President of the United States, attack dog, lawyer to end all lawyers got punked by a dizzy bartender from The Bronx. There is a God!

The Butcher Shop

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The Wrath Of God

Thu, 02/28/2019 - 7:00am

From the Mind of a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas.

I had a person tell me that the Bible says, we are to obey our government. Romans 13 was used in this case, however they forgot one thing when it comes to our great nation. Please pay attention.

Somewhere along the line, we as a nation have lost our way. Our nation was founded on Godly Principals. For the first time since Ancient Israel, A nation was born and recognized God was our creator and ruler (King). Our government was supposed to be limited in power by the people. God was our creator and endowed us with certain unalienable rights. Read the Declaration of Independence. We recognized our rights came from God, not the government.

The way our government was supposed to work was a trickle down effect. Our rights came from God, The Power of the Government came from the People, not the other way around. The government was supposed to be limited by the will of the people. Every American needs to think about that, I mean think about it real hard.

The Federal Government now controls the people, they have assumed power over the states, This isn’t the way we were founded, this isn’t the way it was intended. Our Constitution guaranteed this wouldn’t happen, if, We the People stayed true to it’s course. Somewhere along the way we the people have forgotten how the Constitution was / Is supposed to work. Somewhere along the way the people have forgotten God and turned to the government as the supreme power and problem solver. This isn’t the way things were intended to operate.

The people need to wake up and remember it’s supposed to be God, Family, and then Country. In that order. Our rights come from the Creator, God given rights, think about that. We were given our rights from God, We the People, were supposed to be in control of our Government, The Government can’t give us our rights, Remember, once you give the government permission to control our rights, you give them permission to revoke those same rights. Those rights were supposed to be protected as long as we lasted as a country. Hence the Bill of Rights.

Those rights were there as long as we stayed the course and understood that our rights came from the creator. Think about that, Let it really sink in. We have allowed our government to take our God given rights and dole them out to us for fees, or submission to their archaic rules. We have gone from God is our commander to allowing our government to rule us. Government has been allowed to play the role of god. Government as been allowed to dictate how we live our everyday lives. This isn’t the way it was intended…Think real hard about just how far we have fallen. God, Family, Country….Not Government, but God. Government was supposed to be number three on the list, not number one replacing God as our creator and Savior. The Government can’t save you.
But then what do I know, Everyone knows, I’m just a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas.

Luke 22:36“Now, however,” He told them, “the one with a purse should take it, and likewise a bag; and the one without a sword should sell his cloak and buy one. 37 For I tell you that this Scripture must be fulfilled in Me: ‘And He was numbered with the transgressors.’ For what is written about Me is reaching its fulfillment.”… Translated into today’s language, For those without a gun, Sell your Cloak and buy one…Why a sword in Jesus’s day? Because it was the weapon of the day…

The Butcher Shop

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Howard Schultz Could Use a Little Caffeine

Wed, 02/27/2019 - 5:39pm

Howard Stern has the same likelihood of being elected president in 2020 as Howard Schultz, but the Stern campaign would be much more interesting. And Stern already has nationwide name identification that ‘Starbucks’ Schultz lacks.

Outside the business pages, the only major coverage Schultz has received in the recent past has been negative. Howard’s news coverage includes the hilarious ‘Race Together’ effort where Starbucks’ baristas were instructed to grill customers about America’s ‘systemic race problems’, while America’s first black president observed from the Oval Office. 

Followed by his decision to have Starbucks become a concessionaire for the homeless by opening restrooms to everyone after a former Philadelphia store manager called the cops on two black non–customers.

Both indicate Howard doesn’t function well in the spotlight.

Then there is the personality deficit. Schultz may be the life of the party in private but in public he exhibits a combination of earnestness and tentativeness that reminds one of Jimmy Carter. Only Howard has a lackey carrying his bags.

After Schultz announced he was considering a run the left immediately attacked him. He was found guilty of giving the race to Trump if he ran as an independent. A conclusion I’m not sure is correct.

Previously Howard’s political home was identical to pre–president Trump. His decision to vote and contribute to Democrats is probably similar. It’s the party all the cool people in their social circle favor. Plus, Schultz is one of those snobs who judges a city’s sophistication by whether or not one can buy a copy of the Sunday New York Times.

Schultz is fluent in the liturgy of the Church of Diversity. He supports “choice” and all its attendant evils. He is proud of the fact same–sex marriage is part of Starbucks’ “corporate DNA.” But don’t interpret “same–sex” to mean it applies to individuals. Employees can shift sexes with the seasons and the company health insurance will cover the surgery.

Mr. Coffee believes in Global Warming, supports “sustainability”, is an enthusiastic supporter of coddling the homeless and says Viva la amnesty for illegals. 

Even with social policies supported by our elite overlords, Schultz knows he doesn’t stand a chance in a Democrat presidential primary because he embraces some issues that adults support. 

He’s concerned about the growing national debt. During an interview on “Morning Joe” (no pun intended) he insulted two bird brains with one comment when he said Sen. Fauxcahontas’ net worth confiscation plan will lead to socialism.

Cost is one of the reasons he’s against Sen. Kamala Harris’ (D–Inquisition) “Medicare for All” giveaway and that goes double for free college tuition. Schultz fears the assorted leftist pie–in–the–sky programs will add $40 trillion in debt, at a time Democrats are now the cost–is–no–object party.

Howard even had the temerity to claim the federal government needs to be “interrupted” because it isn’t working. When any leftist knows the government runs like clockwork. It employs hundreds of thousands of reliable Democrat voters who — when they aren’t resisting President Trump — always vote to expand government. Add to that the fact Schultz is a rich white guy who is not afraid to say the American Dream worked for him and the result isn’t a presidential candidate; it’s a candidate for the Ocasio–Cortez Re–Education Camp.

Schultz’ positions mean he is neither fish nor fowl. Instead he appears to be a Libertarian. Libertarianism is a hybrid political philosophy based on a faulty premise. The Libertarian contends it’s possible to build a fiscally sound and individually responsible society on a foundation of capitalists, drug users and sexual reprobates.

Libertarians support all the social pathologies currently facilitating our cultural decline. Their policy on drug use, abortion, alternate lifestyles, immigration and amnesty is let it all hang out — just keep your cotton pickin’ hands off my money.

Libertarians believe that it’s possible to have a country where the personal lives of its citizens are a riot of dissolution, yet somehow their fiscal life is supposed to be positively Swiss in its probity. 

Unfortunately, in actual practice just as the personal becomes the political; the personal also undermines the fiscal, which is why Libertarianism can never succeed. 

It’s true the Schultz combination of social libertinism and fiscal caution (a relative term with leftists) may attract swing Democrats that reluctantly voted for Hillary because they were appalled by Trump. But Schultz will also attract Never–Trumpers and reluctant Trump supporters suffering from voter’s remorse.

That combination of nominally GOP voters, along with disillusioned Trumpistas who stay home, could be enough to guarantee whatever Commissar gets the Democrat nodwill be our next president. 

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The Educational Industrial Complex

Wed, 02/27/2019 - 12:30pm

Beware the Educational Industrial Complex –

There is an “Educational Industrial Complex” that seeks to advance its agenda and increase its political power and social influence in national, state and local government. It is an informal alliance between the nation’s educators, education institutions, and education advocates.

They work together as vested interests through lobbyists and groups to influence public policy and distribution of government funds and resources, specifically taxpayers’ money. Money is their power, and they guard the public funds like junkyard dogs in Congress, state legislatures, county courthouses, city halls, and school districts. They also constantly seek more money.

Money and their politically correct liberal agenda are THE agenda to the Educational Industrial Complex, not whether Johnny or Susie can read, write, add, or think properly. However, they always ask for more money to address a student’s academic problems.
Beware the Educational Industrial Complex in your backyard. It is destroying individual freedom and liberty.

George Rodriguez, El Conservador
Elconservador.net
El Conservador

The Butcher Shop

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The Fall Of Civilizations

Tue, 02/26/2019 - 11:14am

From the Mind of a Dumb ole Biker in Alvin Texas

The Chaplain Gypsy Robert’s personal observations, a man who has studied the history of man and societies going back all the way to the end of the Ice Age.

So a freaking man, dresses in a Tuxedo dress, and this is what makes the headline news all morning praising this fruit cake at the Oscars. I don’t watch the Oscars for this very reason and I feel, the fact that this is what makes the headline news the morning after is a real indication of where this country is headed. There is no substance to our society anymore. This is being shoved in our face as the new normal. Folks, I’m only going to say this once, If you have never had to use a feminine product, you know the ones I’m talking about, Tampons or Kotex’s, then your a freaking man! You are not a woman. You can dress like a woman all you want, but your still a man.

If you do have to use a tampon or a Kotex, your a woman, not a man. Sadly, we have lost our moral compass in this country, there is no turning back, but throughout history, any society that has reached this point, has fallen and never recovered. God is not amused by any of this and he will destroy this country in the near future, That’s historical fact. Whether you believe the Bible or not is irrelevant in this fact, History itself proves this without ever having to open the Bible.

So if you don’t believe the Biblical Scriptures, simply open any historical book and see what happens to societies that reach this point in their history. While the Bible tells us what’s happening, the History books back this up one hundred percent. The scriptures tell us, once this starts happening, it’s going to snowball faster than anyone can imagine. Scripture also tells us, all these things must happen.

Stand Firm, our faith is fixing to be tested like it’s never been tested at any other time in modern history. God Bless, time to put the full armor of God on, the evil that’s coming is unlike anything we have ever experienced before.

Ah, but I digress, After all, I’m just a Dumb ole Biker from Alvin, Texas, What do I know?
Be as wise as the Serpent, be as gentle as a Dove…

From the Butcher: Chappy is spot on! If you are religious or not, we are on a downhill slide. George Rodriguez addressed another aspect to this and Doc Greene went to JAIL trying to protect children in a public library. So this guy shows up in a dress! All Hollywood stood and clapped. I’ll go with that. They’ve all got the clap. Just read his explanation.

https://www.vogue.com/article/billy-porter-oscars-red-carpet-gown-christian-siriano The Butcher Shop

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PeckerWoods of the World Unite!

Mon, 02/25/2019 - 12:44pm

A word about our new distribution. No, we didn’t go to Facebook Jail. To begin with, our reach has become so extensive the very process of distribution was taking more time than the creation of content. From pages, groups, and select friends it was a full coffee pot job. We began by consolidating individuals on Messenger who routinely read us into one group. That made it a “one click” affair. Also, it won’t set off the Facebook spam filter so no one will be missed. Some people left that group and we’re good with that. Some simply like to seek out material on their own.

Next, we revitalized various pages on Facebook that we controlled. Peckerwood Press was the first. Then The Butcher Shop, Clevenger and Witt, and the brand new Lawless Journalism. Two pages we do not control were included, both from Doc Greene. We also submit to the Dam Good Times, and Crystal Lee hasn’t washed my mouth out with soap yet for which I am very grateful.

This is an effort to not force our opinions upon any groups or individuals who might be offended by straight talk. If you don’t like balls to the wall political content don’t come here!

Our flagship, as you know, is the Tea Party Tribune. They have been very kind to us and I hope we have boosted their circulation. They worked with us as we pushed the boundaries of just what conservatism is. What we are NOT is a bunch of old fools stuck in the last century! We range from Peter in London to Daniel in Amsterdam to a little lady in Texas who we hope will grace the Butcher Shop with her brilliant insight.

Brother Theo and I were frankly surprised by the explosion of interest. From Facebook to YouTube our message of mutual understanding is catching on. We just got tired of not being able to discuss the movie ”Black Beauty” without being called a racist!

So, to all the Peckerwoods out there, join us in pecking at the tree if neo-liberal bias until it becomes a totem pole!

The Butcher Shop

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How To Retire At The Holiday Inn

Mon, 02/25/2019 - 9:23am

No nursing home for us. We’ll be checking into a Holiday Inn!

With the average cost for a nursing home care costing $188.00 per day, there is a better way when we get old and too feeble.

I’ve already checked on reservations at the Holiday Inn. For a combined long term stay discount and senior discount, it’s $59.23 per night.

Breakfast is included, and some have happy hours in the afternoon. That leaves $128.77 a day for lunch and dinner in any restaurant we want, or room service, laundry, gratuities and special TV movies.

Plus, they provide a spa, swimming pool, a workout room, a lounge and washer-dryer, etc. Most have free toothpaste and razors, and all have free shampoo and soap. $5-worth of tips a day and you’ll have the entire staff scrambling to help you. They treat you like a customer, not a patient.

There’s a city bus stop out front, and seniors ride free.
The handicap bus will also pick you up (if you fake a decent limp). To meet other nice people, call a church bus on Sundays.

For a change of scenery, take the airport shuttle bus and eat at one of the nice restaurants there.
While you’re at the airport, fly somewhere. Otherwise, the cash keeps building up.

It takes months to get into decent nursing homes. Holiday Inn will take your reservation today. And you’re not stuck in one place forever — you can move from Inn to Inn, or even from city to city.

Want to see Hawaii ? They have Holiday Inn there too.
TV broken? Light bulbs need changing? Need a mattress replaced? No problem.. They fix everything, and apologize for the inconvenience.

The Inn has a night security person and daily room service. The maid checks to see if you are ok. If not, they’ll call an ambulance . . . Or the undertaker.

If you fall and break a hip, Medicare will pay for the hip, and Holiday Inn will upgrade you to a suite for the rest of your life.

And no worries about visits from family. They will always be glad to find you, and probably check in for a few days mini-vacation. The grand-kids can use the pool. What more could I ask for?

So, when I reach that golden age, I’ll face it with a grin.

Terry Robison

The Butcher Shop

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Dear Hillary

Sun, 02/24/2019 - 9:36am
Dear Hillary,

Well, the last election season for everyone, you included. It’s too bad you won’t be around to crap on the democrats any longer, but let’s face it, ya lost! Yep, the same tactics you used to destroy the hopes Bernie had didn’t work in the general election, thank God, did not work on the segment of our electors as those who slavishly follow your party’s propaganda. For once, the slavish instincts of the other side served to demonstrate to the world that the sleeping giant has been awakened. But now it appears that the old gray nag is back! And you’re up to the same old tricks you’ve been using before.

That’s right, the evidence is right there for anyone who wishes to see past their own concerns, but, as we all know, little people think little, so let me spell it out for you: Less than half of the folks who could have voted turned out to vote in the 2016 election. I know, I know, so what, right? Man, this never gets old. The key to understanding the transfer of one medium to another is volume. Huh? Yep, if a ship gets a hole in it, the ship fills with water, and sinks! That’s because the volume of the ocean is greater than the volume of the ship. Since most of those democrats who would have voted for anyone but stayed home, the picture becomes clear due to the cropping effect of that phenomenon. By removing the blurring brought about by red and blue states one simply turns to the battleground states to discern the true character of this nation.

Adjusting for regional demographics, and voter concerns, one can easily see that voters turned out in the battleground states in far greater numbers. Post ballot interviews reveal that their purpose was to turn back the tide of globalization that has been spewed into this country by you and your confederates. These were the so called undecided voters. We Americans are sick at heart as we watch other cultures assimilate American territory as aliens from the third world march unopposed across our land, simply taking our children’s heritage for their own. Oh, and we know that you guys are selling it. Yeah, we’re on to you. So, look to those battleground states to determine your future, or more accurately, lack of future.

As you plot your strategy, I would like to recap your highest achievements; you know, the ones we will never forget, before before saying GIT! Here is a short list of your greatest crimes: First, who can forget the way you boldly destroyed ACORN? Man, that was slick. You took an obviously bogus video (one thoroughly debunked on the very day of your cowardly act) and led the charge to destroy the last example of Saul Alinsky’s open display to the American people of how to build community representation in a republican democracy. Good work Fluffy! The little folk will likely never recover their voice, and you led the way!

Then, who can forget single payer health care? Before the president could even comment, you brayed “not on the table!” In that signature brassy voice that only you possess. What was it you said when Trump made his famous “bus” joke? Ah yes, words mean things. Words like, “Ah nevah had sex wid dat woman!” That meant something, too. Just where were you you’re your husband ate that pizza that night. I think it’s symbolic that the little sex ring that you’re husband, and possibly even you refer to little girls as “pizza.”

Thanks to you, Iran will have a robust nuclear weapons program soon. Thanks to you America’s diverse economy has been broken up and sold to WTO, because God knows, it takes a village. As I remember it took a village with pitchforks and torches to end count Dracul the inspiration for Dracula. By the way, just so you know, My wife and I raised my children with the help of our family and friends. It the damn village came for them there would have been blood! It would appear though that your efforts to turn our great nation’s cities into third world villages has enjoyed great success.

Many thanks for empowering the IMF to such an extent that most countries cannot establish lines of credit without kowtowing to the guidelines for establishing A One World Government. Honestly, you have a slave owner’s mentality. There is a growing list of crimes that become too numerous to list, much less discuss, that cling to you like what drifted across Mr. Trump’s nose when he said “such a nasty woman!” Hint to the wise, Beano! A case where he who smelt it did NOT deal it.

I simply can not say, “Buh Bye” without mentioning ChinaGate. This is, next to your decision to remove Senator Sanders from the race without giving the American electorate in it’s entirety the opportunity to measure him as a candidate, the most serious crime you are guilty of, or should I say you share responsibility for? As I have said, this is MY country. When you let China steal ALL of our top level secret technology By allowing a known operative to waltz out of the country with a hard drive containing said documents (and yes, there is a smoking gun) you sold secrets that belonged to all Americans. That’s me! Those were my property, and the property of my descendants, and you allowed the Chinese to steal them! Now, this was all publicly available knowledge at the time, but remember, Most of the nation still slumbered then.

Maybe this is how it had to be. Perhaps democrat and republican would never have learned to fight side by side without this event. However, I caution you; do not think we are grateful. You and your ilk have been seen, and were I you I would boogie before Rudy Giuliani figures out that nobody will stop him if he decides to have a few witch trials. Get thee hence white woman! And don’t let the door hit you in the butt on the way out!!!

The Butcher Shop

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CigarBox

Sat, 02/23/2019 - 8:14am

The mothers met at Fat Eddies the following Wednesday about noon. They sat in the back of the café and ordered the “special” which was always meat, two veggies, a salad, tea and bread. Fat Eddie would brag that he didn’t have an “all you can eat” bar because if his lunch didn’t fill you up he’d bring you more out to eat. They ate their salads in silence and then Barbara spoke.

“Look, these things happen. God knows June is wild as a cat, but she is just sixteen, and your son.”

“Don’t tell me about my son Barbara! My son still wanted a truck for Christmas. Your little girl is not a little girl. Everyone in this town knows how she gets around!”

Barbara was not a coward and would have slapped Claudette, except that the real estate lady still had something she wanted. She was smart enough to hold her temper. June was wild, that was no lie. She did get around, and that was no lie either. Still, the object of this meeting was to work out the wedding. They both knew why they were here. She agreed that Mike needed time to graduate, but just as soon as possible after he walked across that stage down at the high school gym, he needed to walk down the isle down at the church! She decided on a verbal attack as opposed to a brawl.

“Don’t you look down your nose at me Miss High Falutin’ divorced real estate lady. Your little spoiled wimpy son runs around messin’ with little girls and gets caught, and I want to give him a decent way out. I wonder how he’d do in the county jail? Wonder how them little shorts with the pockets in them would do in there. What do you think?”

Claudette was surprised at the bitterness in the woman, but she knew the determination, too! This woman meant to marry into her family by any means possible. The reference to Mike’s shorts was recalling a time when he ran around the golf course with tailored shorts with fancy pockets. His stepbrothers wore jeans, but Mike always had to look his best. Apparently Barbara, just like practically everyone else in town, thought Mike just looked silly. Imagine, a west Texas kid with such a get up!

“Ok, calm down. We’ll talk it over more. Let’s just agree to let them see each other for now.”

June’s mother leaned near to Mike’s mom, “Don’t let Ray know. He gets crazy about June. He’s already mad at Mike. Let’s let that pot cool just a bit, and we’ll bring them out of the closet at little at a time. Is Mike coming back to work down here?”

“No, I don’t think that will be wise. He’s going to work on a construction crew on the weekends. My husband is trying to interest him more in the builder trade.”

“Good! Just keep it cool.”

“Ok. Look, we’ll be here Friday. Buddy will be in town visiting and wants to do the catfish thing. Do you think Ray will be here? Maybe if he saw us it might take the edge off just a bit.”

“Yeah, we’ll try that. How long is your son in town for?”

“A week. He’ll leave Wednesday.”

“Ok, see you then.” They finished their lunch and left.

Claudette would never have met with the likes of this woman under any other conditions, and the idea of this “lady” being in her family in any way was repugnant to her. It had hurt when Barbara threw up the divorce to her, but she’d been called worse things so she looked over it. Barbara was just making sure that Claudette knew that as low as she may have thought Barbara was, she was not divorced! Anyway, Buddy was coming to town, and that would be something nice to look forward to. Buddy had graduated high school and took off to work in Houston. He took night courses and liked the big city life, but he also liked to come home now and again and he especially liked to do the ritual of “eating the cat,” with his family. Claudette realized that she wanted to keep the problem between Ray, and Mike quiet. Buddy was rough hewn like his father and he was the type to pull Ray up and slap him in spite of his so- called reputation.

As the weekend approached, Claudette began to make plans to have June drop by and see them. She knew that he’d have to watch out for Ray, but that was no matter because Barbara was firmly on the side of June seeing Michael at any opportunity that could be arranged. They planned to eat out on Friday night because Ray would be there with everybody else eating catfish. True to her agreement with Barbara, Claudette steered the family toward the traditional catfish dinner. June and Mike made other plans, however. June had been calling Mike at a mutual friend’s house all week and they had set up a meeting. Late Thursday night June slipped out of her bedroom in the shacks behind the Catfish house and sneaked to City Park, where Michael was waiting near the duck pond. After making sure they weren’t followed, they kissed and talked.

“We’ll be together soon, I promise,” Michael said, trying to appear “grown up” and in “control.”

She wrapped her arms around him and held him for the longest time. “I miss you more and more every day.”

All that was on Michael’s mind was physical, but he played the game anyway. He had chosen a part of City Park far enough away from the main road so as to assure privacy, but he didn’t see the two forms watching from a nearby tree.

Veronica watched June begin to kiss and hold Michael in the distance. Her spirit guide with her let her watch for a few minutes and then asked, “Did you know what he wanted when you went there?”

Without looking away from the scene she answered, “Sure, I knew what he wanted. What does any man want? I knew he’d be there. All I had to do was make a promise and he’d be there. Sex will lure and hold a man every time!”

“Why didn’t it hold him to you in Tennessee?”

She turned to look at the man. “I thought you were supposed to be an angel. What’s an angel doing worrying about sex for?”

“I never told you I was an angel. I told you there were things we had to talk about!”

“My, aren’t we splitting hairs here.”

“Not splitting hairs, I’m just letting you understand that surprisingly, I may be in the same boat as you. I have things that I have to work out, too. I just have a few miles on you, that’s all. Both of us were put at that intersection. You for your reasons, and me for mine.”

“I can’t go on without you,” June began.

She turned back to the scene. “What broke us up in Tennessee happened in Texas. Like I told you, some things are real bad, and it ain’t easy to get around them. Mike couldn’t get around something I did.”

“Then you’ve got to understand why you did it.”

Veronica looked at him with a puzzled stare. “I did it because I had done things like that all my life! I didn’t expect to get caught, and when I did get caught I didn’t expect them to all go on like they did about it.”

“Two sets of standards?”

“No, a set of standards I inherited. Look, Doctor Angel, I just played by the rules they set. Mike and other men wanted the pretty little blonde and I spread my loving arms and loving legs and they took the bait. They were my toy as much as I was theirs. I think about the only one who took me serious, as funny as it may sound, was Claudette, and dad.”

“Ray?”

“Yeah. I seemed to fill a need in him, and not a bad one. It was like I replaced something he’d lost. I pushed him away for a while, but I never felt him push me away.”

“You look happy enough there,” he said looking at the couple in the distance.

“We were happy there. It took a lot to break that happiness up, but believe me, if you work on it, you can break it up. I broke it up real good.”

“How?”

“Just trying to have it all, Dr. Angel. Just trying to have it all.”

Within a few minutes, her alter ego was coming out of the trees, adjusting her jeans and blouse and scampering back to the shacks behind the Catfish house. Michael sat in the oaks of City Park convinced that he was totally in love.

Juan drew the smoke deep within his lungs and let the drug take hold of him. Slowly his mind relaxed into oblivion and he became glassy eyed. Then the soft spot in his head from his infancy opened up and a single dove emerged and flew up into the night air. Flying this way and that, the dove looked for signs of someone who would be recognizable only to it. Someone who was pure soul, yet was not dead yet. Within a moment or two it spied the young June coming out of the bushes and it descended on her. Unseen in the nearby brush, Dreamwalker pulled Veronica back near him
.
“Be still! Don’t let him see you.”

“Who?” her eyes searched the night sky.

“That dove. That’s the shaman. He’s trying to
find us. He can’t see you very easily.”

“What if he finds us?”

“He will try to force us back to the accident scene
and continue the accident. It is not good that we do that right at this time. You have to learn some things, see some things before we go back.”

They watched as the dove discovered that the young June was not what it was seeking and turned, flying back to the body of Juan, still sitting in his home. It returned to his body and he came back from the realm of the unseen, a bit angry that he had not found what he sought. By doing this he had crossed not one, but two barriers. The first barrier being the obvious one of leaving his body and searching such as he did, but the other was the barrier of time. Juan had crossed over the barrier of time and actually gone back looking for the Dreamwalker and his consort. Juan knew they were somewhere, but just where in time had not been made clear to him. It was not like searching in one era which to be honest is rather two dimensional, but searching across time took some doing. That took some real savvy.

If he could locate the Dreamwalker he had spiritual power over him that could force him back to the accident scene, and his newfound friend with him, but if he could not find him then he would have to just wait and see just what the spirit had up his tuxedoed sleeve.

Plain Speaking National Emergency FEMA Camps Agenda 2030 Booth Did It! Woman Who Walks on Stones The Butcher Shop

The post CigarBox appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Booth Did It!

Fri, 02/22/2019 - 11:11am

So, Robert Mueller’s million dollar dog and pony show seems to be coming to an end. After two years of indictments, excitement, and enticements, his national best seller is about to go to press, and hit the streets. Or is it? The puppet masters in Devil City aren’t sure what We The People will be allowed to see, if we’re allowed to see anything at all.

The entire thing was supposed to be about the Russians impugning the integrity of our election process. Supposedly Boris and the boys swung the campaign by screwing with the minds of the Millennials using a few Facebook memes. Now, after all this time and money they don’t know if we can handle it? When did we become little children. They seem to take our money just fine!

This has been the government’s attitude for a while. They still have facts concerning the Kennedy assassination under wraps. Hell, PEARL HARBOR! News flash! We won that war! No wonder we have so many conspiracy theorists. We need to at least try to fill in the gaps. There is a military base, Area 51, where you get shot if you cross a barb wire fence. Oh, and by the way, these are the same fine folks that can’t secure our border. Just thought I’d point that out to you.

They point to “National Security” as the primary reason for all the secrecy. WE’RE the nation you’re supposed to be securing, dimwit! Employing you is like paying a whore who won’t take her clothes off. What did you uncover? You caught a crooked lawyer and a couple lying political hacks. This is our surprised face. Amish children know that! So what did you find that we aren’t supposed to know? Putin had an affair with Ivanka?

Or maybe, just maybe, if the whole thing was exposed the American people would see this for what it really was all along. A democrat witch hunt! That after all this time you couldn’t hang a parking ticket on President Trump. While we’re out here paying all these taxes you have been sitting up there eating steak and lobster, not doing one damn thing! So now you’re not sure if we’ll be allowed to see your report!

I have a suggestion. If we don’t see the report Robert Mueller should be held personally responsible for every dime this three ring circus has cost! We paid for the book, Robert. Deliver! From wheat farmers in Kansas to stock brokers in New York, we can handle it. Trust me. We’ve put up with you all these years. We’re tough! Oh, and shut down that inquiry into the Lincoln assassination, too. Booth did it!

The Butcher Shop

The post Booth Did It! appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

FEMA Camps

Thu, 02/21/2019 - 6:35am

I’ve got something that is so wrong on so many levels that I don’t know where to begin. The hate in this country against our president has risen to a new level, extending into every aspect of our day to day lives, and now to my family. I’ve got a granddaughter. Not just a granddaughter, a GRANDdaughter. The most brilliant, beautiful, perfect little girl in the world, and if you say not I’ll get mad! She just turned twenty-one and completed college. She wants to be a nurse. She has a boyfriend who is her perfect compliment, and a highly intelligent little Starbucks drinking dog.

Each morning I have included her in my “paper route.” I don’t even know her politics, but I sent her my daily articles. Well, she didn’t get one today. You see, she is trying to get a job in a hospital in Arizona. Now, for those of you that are out of the loop, Arizona is East California. If you think California is liberal just look at Arizona. Liberals move from a place with little water to a place with NO water, and call it paradise. Go figure! For those of you who study such things Arizona is roughly translated, “Dry Place!”

Well, about a week ago I was sending out another daily article and got a notification that my little girl wasn’t taking messages from me. No biggie. A couple years ago she got hacked, or stalked on Facebook and took her page down for a bit, starting another one up later, immediately refriending me. So I didn’t worry about it. Then her father, my son called from Californication. Now MasterChief is gentle when dealing with an old fool like me, but he really had to put a lot of Castor oil on this one in order to ram it up my rear.

It seems that the hospital in Arizona is so liberal that my granddaughter can’t even associate with me on her personal Facebook, even in private message because I am a Trump supporting Texas conservative! Yep! You heard me right. We have digressed to that point. First red baseball caps, and now thought police. My baby girl is not even allowed to THINK about Paw Paw or she won’t get the job!

At first I was just as stupid as any other grandparent. I reasoned that the kid needed every advantage in the competition of fifty applicants applying for ten positions. Baby girl is in a tough field and she needs every point she can get to rise above the crowd. Why take any chances? Then I got mad. First off, why doesn’t she just move to Texas? It’s bigger than Arizona, went “Trump” in the election, and it HAS water! Secondly, I wouldn’t let a nurse in that hospital empty my bedpan, much less give me a pill.

I don’t even know if my granddaughter reads what I send her. Don’t know her politics. She might be a feminazi for all I know. What I do know is she was a little light in my life. Smart, intelligent, and easy on the eye. And now she’s gone. No longer part of my life. Instead of being proud that grandpaw writes for national publications, she hides her face and censors her Facebook lest someone realizes that we have the same last name.


I’ve tried to understand these Tide Pod crunching bastards, but I’ve reached my limit. Thank God we already have polio vaccine because any doctor with this mindset isn’t educated enough to prescribe an aspirin. No cure for cancer coming out of here folks. Might as well go to a Navajo Medicine Man! At least he can sing and dance.

To me Facebook is like that little girl’s diary. Intimate, personal, and private. I never put my articles on her page, only PM’d them to her, privately. A way of saying, “Love you, I’m still here!” But that was too much for the liberals. Grandfathers cannot love granddaughters, even though there is very little chance that they will ever meet again. Her page was filled with pictures of her girl friends and her little dog. I definitely did not fit it, therefore I never posted there. Now, I’m blocked! That’s right, blocked. Like a stalking former boyfriend. The human relations department reviewing applicants can’t even find my name on her private messages. My granddaughter is no more.

Baby Girl lives in a world where there is no freedom of speech. No freedom of thought. No consideration of alternative ideas, political debate, and now, no Paw Paw. Am I crying in my coffee this morning? Nah! I’ve been dealing with these queer pricks for years. I was scheduled to go to Houston this week to protest men dressed up like women, teaching little girls the finer points of sodomy. All ready to go to jail for impeding their right of self expression, and God help me if I was wearing a red baseball cap. They’d enhance the charge. FEMA camps! Yeah. We’ve been wondering who to put in FEMA camps. Well, I have a little list!

The Butcher Shop

The post FEMA Camps appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

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