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CigarBox – Real Daddies

Sat, 03/16/2019 - 7:16am

“Ok, Pa,” she said, and took Mike’s hand to lead him away. They walked over the rise and she took him to a little man made pond surrounded by an embankment. She sat and pulled him down to the ground with her. He started to kiss her, but she pecked his cheek and said, “No, not here. Pa’ll be coming over that hill and see us. He’ll beat your butt good you messin’ with me out here. You like the joint?”

“I didn’t know you did dope.”

“Well, I don’t ‘do dope,’ I just smoke a little grass. How’d it make you feel?”

“He did ok.”

“Wow, like, two beers. I feel, real good.”
She laughed, “You ain’t a good liar, Mike. You didn’t smoke enough to make you feel much. Next time you’ll do better. How’d Pa treat you before I got here?”

“Thought he was gonna kick your ass, huh?”

“No, I wasn’t worried.”

“Liar! Everyone in town’s scared of my Pa. He’s
been in prison.”

“Well, ok, maybe I was a little. But I love you, and
it’s worth the risk.”

She smiled and leaned back on the Johnson grass
on the embankment. “My real Pa’s in Las Vegas.”

“Really? You ever meet him?”

“Nah. He left before I was born. They never got
married. She told me he came to town and was runnin’ card games all over the county. He was so good he decided to go to Vegas. He’s rich there, I bet! Ray’s my mom’s first husband. Boyfriends don’t’ count. Your mom’s divorced, ain’t she?”

“Yeah. My Real Daddy lives in Tennessee. You know that. I just got back from there!”

“I know, but your mom’s divorced. Ray says that’s like drinking a beer every day and then they shut down the brewery. The Bible says that if a man marries a divorced man he lies down in adultery. My mom’s always telling me that no matter how bad we seem at least we ain’t divorced.”

Mike’s face turned red, but he tried not to show it. His mom’s divorce was an embarrassment in the little town. He didn’t like to talk about it, and June was dragging it all out in the open, even if it was just around a bunch of cows and goats.

“Some day I’m gonna go and see him in Vegas, though. I know he loves me, and he’ll take care of me. I don’t like it here.”

“Why don’t you live out here instead of the shacks behind Fat Eddie’s?”

“Grandma don’t like mom. Says she’s a whore. She really don’t like her to come out here at all, but she lets her come out on Saturdays because Ray wants to see his mom. She needs him out here to keep this rat trap of a farm fixed up.”

“Fat Eddie is talking about tearing down the shacks so he can have a bigger parking lot for catfish night. Did you know that?”

“We heard. Guess we’ll have to move out here then. But one day I’ll be married, and I’ll leave here, and the shacks, and go to Vegas where I belong!” She was lying. She planned to go no farther than the Bend. She wanted to meet the man her mother had told her about, but she had no intention of living in Vegas.

“How’s Buddy doing?” she suddenly asked.

“Oh, he’s fine. He’s sleeping it off on the couch this morning. He ended up at Sabrina’s bar last night and drug in late.”

“He and Sabrina getting’ it on?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Anyway, she’s a Mexican girl. You know how that goes.”

“What does her being a Mexican have to do with anything?”

Mike was in a corner. In his arrogance of being a member of the Bend he’d started to insinuate that the little Mexican Bar-hop was somehow less chaste than an Anglo girl, but then he realized that it was a very small distance from the trailer park where Sabrina lived to the shacks behind Fat Eddie’s.

“Oh, I don’t know. Buddy say’s she’s Catholic, and I think that’s real important to him. You know, him and Tommy are Catholic.”

June eyed him, “Oh, yeah, that’s probably it. Catholics don’t get divorces you know. Did you ever stop to think that Buddy and Tommy don’t really think your mom is married to their dad? That means that you ain’t really any kind of brother; I mean like real brothers. Like for instance, if you and I should break up, and I was to date Buddy it wouldn’t be all that bad. That kind of thing.”

Mike was a little shook, but it was true. It wasn’t like they were real brothers. Still he’d never considered the possibility of little June dating Buddy. That seemed very remote and distant right now. Yet it seemed as if a seed had been planted.

“You ever think of Buddy in that way,” he asked?

June looked at Mike. She had him! Nothing makes a fish bite like taking the bait away a little bit. She could almost hear the pleading in his voice.

“No. Not really. I never think of him like that,” she said and let the subject pass.

They passed the rest of the afternoon walking around the tank and talking about life and family, and “getting out.” Then they heard Ray’s mother call them all in for supper. The little family gathered around the old woman’s table to eat brisket, beans, and corn bread. She’d marinated the meat and smoked it the night before, finishing with it in a broiler she had set up in the Florida room. She had cut it long ways to divide the “two briskets” that it contained. One was fat and coarse, and the other was leaner, and the grain of the meat ran across the top piece. There was very little conversation at the table. As soon as the meal was over, they loaded up and took Mike back to town.

He stayed off to himself most of that night, not talking with his brothers or mother, but Sunday morning he cornered his mother in the kitchen. “Why did you divorce my Real Daddy?”

She was surprised by the words “Real Daddy,” but asked back, “Why do you want to know?”

“Well, he is my Real Daddy, and I just wanted to know why you divorced him. June’s mom isn’t divorced.”

The woman could feel the hair rise on the back of her neck. This was the ever-present threat in the town. Divorced women still had a mark on them. “Your so called ‘Real Daddy’ was too stupid to make a living and too lazy to do anything about it.”

“June’s Real Daddy lives in Las Vegas.”

“Well that’s no big recommendation. He wasn’t no ‘count here, and he’s probably no ‘count there. What’s he do, deal cards there?” Claudette feigned disinterest. She knew all about the gambler and the story that Barbara wove around him to hide her history with old man Stillwell.

Mike got defensive and raised his voice, “I don’t want you talking about her family like that. He works at a job, that’s what he does. Anyway, he’s her Real Daddy, just like my Real Daddy.”

She glared at the boy, “Do you know how much child support your ‘Real Daddy’ owes you? Over forty thousand dollars!”

“It’s not his job to pay that when you got remarried.”

“Oh, he don’t have any obligation to his own kids? I never pushed it ‘cause he’s so worthless, but he still owes it. How many Christmas cards have you seen from him?”

“He didn’t know where we lived.”

“Wrong! My Grandma never moved! She lived right there with the same address and the same phone all the time we’ve been here in Texas. He found that house when we were married and he wanted to eat! Then, when she got down, and we moved her out here, he still knew how to contact her relatives in Tennessee, and I’m only the biggest Realtor in west Texas. HELLO! He can’t find the phone number to send a card, or a dollar?”

Mike began to look down and to the right. She slapped him. “Don’t you pull that stuff on me! You look at me when I’m talking to you. So that’s what you been doing out there on that farm. You and June talking about your ‘real daddies? Well, I hope the both of you get to live with your ‘real daddies!”

“It would be better than here,” he said rubbing his face, “Up there in Tennessee I get to do what I want.”

“Seems like you’re doing what you want down here, young man. You seem to get over to City Park often enough! Up there you’d be in jail!”

Mike’s eyes flared, but he backed off as his stepfather walked into the room. “What’s going on here,” he asked, as he got a Coke out of the refrigerator?

“Mike’s worried about his ‘Real Daddy,” his wife answered, and crossed her arms, staring at Mike.
The man looked at Mike as he opened the Coke. Taking a large gulp from it, he reached up in the cabinet and took out a bottle of whiskey with an auto- jigger on top. Holding it up he let the device dispense a shot of whiskey into the coke bottle. Placing the bottle back in its spot, he turned to the issue at hand. This had not really been a problem until Mike’s recent trip to Tennessee, but now “Real Daddy” was showing himself to be a “real pain.” The man sat on a stool at the island in the kitchen. He really didn’t know much about “Real Daddy,” nor did he “really” want to, but this was a problem that he felt must be addressed.

“Why don’t you just count all that child support he’s sent over the years?”

“Money don’t buy everything!”

“True, but I don’t see you selling off your weight set, or your golf clubs, now do I?”

“All I’m saying is that he is my Real Daddy, and I’d like to know why mom had to divorce him.”

The stepfather actually became angry, but didn’t let Mike know it. He knew that “Real Daddy” was an irresponsible boob, but he couldn’t just come out and say that. He had to prove “Real Daddy” wrong. What he didn’t know was that another agenda was at work here. Mike didn’t want this issue resolved because he needed the “Real Daddy” argument to escalate so that he could put it before June because she also had a “Real Daddy.”

“You both don’t understand!” And with that, Mike left through the front door, slamming it behind him as he went.

“Now what do you suppose brought that on?” the man asked.

“I don’t know, but I think it began out there at June’s grandmother’s farm. He came back all weird. I have no intention of showing any respect to his so called ‘Real Daddy!”

Bill smiled and went back into the study to watch TV for the rest of the day.

The days turned into weeks, and Mike and June continued their “cow tank” discussions, always picking up where the last one left off. The little chats seemed to always center on “real daddies,” and such. They never noticed the two entities listening in on every one of their meetings. Graduation day came and went, and Claudette got her one small victory in that he did get to walk across the stage at the football stadium and receive his diploma. June was there, with them in the stands that night, and then they all went out to eat catfish. Fat Eddie gave her the night off that one time because she was Mike’s guest, and she got to be served. She didn’t eat the catfish though, opting for the baby back ribs instead.

Veronica and her spirit guide talked one afternoon.

“Why did you want to see your biological father so badly?”

She sat on the grass watching Mike and June talking. “It wasn’t so much him as it was just wanting to leave this place.”

“You just wanted to leave?”

She lay back on the grass, and took a piece of it, put it into her mouth and chewed on it. “Not like for always, just for now, ya know? There’s a big exciting world out there, and I wanted to see at least something outside the county. You know I used to get so excited about going down to Austin, like that was a big deal. When I went on my honeymoon in San Antone, I took my very first escalator ride in a department store. Can you imagine such a little hayseed as that? Never even seen an escalator!”

“Did you love Mike?”

She looked sideways at him. He could tell that even now, in eternity, she was a fetching woman. Veronica studied his eyes determining just what kind of answer to give him. Then she simply said, “Ya, at first. Not like Ray.”

“Not now?”

She sat up and looked at the couple sitting across the pond. “You see that little girl over there, Doctor Angel? Now look at me. She isn’t anywhere near what I am now. She has no mileage. That girl over there would be happy if he took her over to the county fair for sausage on a stick and a beer.” She looked him in the eye, “But I’m not!”

She got up and walked around the pond to where the couple was sitting. She knelt down and looked June right in the face. “Look at all that baby fat! You see that. This kid’s been eating nothing but Bubba burgers and fries her whole life. Her heart’s going to give out.”

She caught a glance of the man’s eyes as he looked down. “She’s not going to make it that long, is she?”

“I don’t know Veronica. That’s all up to you.”

“I wanted to find my real father so I would know who I really was! Is that so hard to understand?”

“Well, do you know who you really are?”

“I do now. I’m a bastard!”

I’m Concerned Border Patrol The Politics of Hate Onward Through The Fog The Right To Vote In My Place The Butcher Shop

The post CigarBox – Real Daddies appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

The Secret Police

Fri, 03/15/2019 - 9:15am
America’s secret police Subject:
  1. The CPS organizations in all states operate with the presumed mandate of keeping families together, and strengthening the community by means of strengthening families. They are also tasked with protecting America’s children! .
  2. The intake and investigative processes for CPS cases are as follows: A. Intake – All allegations and claims must be followed up with an investigation. No further criteria are relevant, thus making CPS a surprisingly malleable tool for obtaining revenge or perpetuating private conflicts.B. Investigations - Using an investigative timeline which, combined with the secrecy CPS is allowed to conduct operations creates conditions that make it all but impossible for persons named in an allegation to provide input or feedback to the process until they have been deemed guilty by an administrative process which, like the investigation, is conducted in house without any significant attempt to notify the accused, or to allow them to participate in reaching a determination of guilt</code></pre></li>There need be, and frequently is no tangible evidence found, or used in determining the guilt of the accused. This process of determining guilt, which relies entirely upon testimony, can only be conducted using inductive reasoning. Without access to actual evidence, the use of deductive reasoning is denied to the inquiry, forfeiting the benefit of checks and balances that are essential to reaching a correct determination.!
    1. The results of an allegation itself, let alone the consequences of having family members and friends interrogated, has the constantly proven result of significant damage to the lives of those being investigated. A determination of reason to believe can be catastrophic to the lives of the accused.
    2. Frequently the CPS will come back after a determination of resin to believe on one caregiver in the home and open a case against the other caregiver for neglect and child abuse for making the children in the home vulnerable to the person they have convicted in their administrative court.
    3. The CPS service plan will more than likely result in one of the caregivers had to move out of the house during the investigation. If there is a finding of reason to believe, that caregiver must remain absent from the home indefinitely. Since CPS almost never attacks people of means or access to political violence, this means that persons already struggling with financial issues will find themselves one step closer to poverty.!
    4. While persons under attack from CPS must field their own legal expenses, as well as hope that the legal representation they have chosen is knowledgeable and/or competent, the CPS is has a defacto investigative arm in the police, a legal department, which is, in reality the local prosecutor’s office, and a small army of caseworkers that they often use to harass, or otherwise impede progress on the part of the family. All courtesy of taxpayers, who lack any representation in the determination of the administrative model, or the processes that model engages in.
    5. The States, Texas included, are adopting a model of special courts that have special prosecutors, special judges, and special procedures with regard to evidence and procedure. The state of Texas recently created such courts and announced that despite the fact that these courts will not operate under constitutional rule of law, the courts’ outcomes will be held to have the same effect as those of a municipal court, which is obligated to proceed constitutionally.
    Children who are the alleged victims of child abuse, and who go through the process of a CPS investigation and determination are often false accusers. Nevertheless, they are almost universally empowered and encouraged to self emancipate while they are still just children. CPS investigators are generally fulsome in their descriptions of a new parent in town and advise children to call in an allegation at the least sign that they feel unsafe, or that their caregivers are exceeding the bounds of parental rights. Stripping parents of their authority are universally viewed as the dissolution of the family. The evidence garnered in multiple case studies and their nomothetic counterparts overwhelmingly support the conclusion that children who are either removed from their homes and placed in foster care, or suffer prolonged and/or repetitive interventions by the CPS, will endure an adult life characterized by poverty, drugs, and a generational contribution to the CPS caseload. CPS argues that it is impossible to say which came first, the chicken, or the egg.

Take 2

Posted by Billy White on Monday, March 11, 2019 The Butcher Shop

The post The Secret Police appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Onward Through The Fog

Thu, 03/14/2019 - 9:39am
The Amazing Doc Greene

We have a little problem with distribution of The Amazing Doc Green. It seems that Facebook, YouTube, Twitter, and other platforms have seen fit to censor Doc because of his Christian stance on homosexuality. So Doc has joined the ranks of the legendary Alex Jones.

There’s a reason we are called “alternative” media. We are the alternative choice when you get tired of being lied to by all the cackle babble heads in the Main Stream Media box. Entities such as Facebook and YouTube tout their right to operate their business as they see fit while they suppress the right of other people to express their opinions.

There is simply no way a true Christian can support a homosexual lifestyle. The same as an adulterous lifestyle, or alcoholic, lying, stealing, or murderous. There are certain “rules of the road” that the true believer must follow in order to follow Christ. Having an affair with another man’s wife is just as offensive to Doc as Drag Queen Story Time.

Because of the permissive nature of our society, America has become a whore house. That’s why when you find yourself somewhere such as Brigham City, Utah you feel so out of place. To be among people actually living their faith makes you ill at ease because you KNOW Houston isn’t! An openly gay mayor, men dressed as women reading to three year olds in a library situated in a section of town dedicated to a deviate lifestyle and Christians arrested for objecting to it? This has been tried before and we’re STILL trying to find the exact location of Sodom and Gomorrah! If you will note, hurricanes seem to find Houston quite frequently. Just saying.

Neither I, nor anyone I know would go out of the way to harm a homosexual. We would not impose our lifestyle on them either. We simply ask that they respect our right to live our beliefs and please do not try to indoctrinate our children. When you try to influence the mind of a child with sexually oriented dress, speech, and ideas that are outside the main stream it’s just pedophilia, and that’s the long and short of it. It’s the same as a man my age reading the Karma Sutra to a team of high school Cheerleaders and trying to pass it off as a study of the classics.

So, we’re going to have to shift gears. Since Facebook and others have made Doc such a hot button topic we have to explore other options for distribution. Currently he broadcasts each weekday on American Voice Radio from 1:00 to 3:00 Texas time. You can find that here.

Facebook was so thorough in its inquisition that when I tried to post that simple link it was blocked by a brand new algorithm. Imagine that! They still don’t have a “thumbs down” option on the comments, but they wrote a “Doc Down” algorithm in less than three days. So, being the devious old bastard that I am, I just buried the link in this article and published it in the National Tea Party Tribune. You can find Doc there. We will distribute. I’ve been doing this before Mark Zuckerberg was born and always got through. I distributed “Weird Wilbur Rides Again” right Under Roy Acuff’s pius nose, and you can find that on iTunes, thank you very much! There are phone numbers on that site and tons of good CHRISTIAN information that you will be proud to let your children see and hear. So, like we say in Austin, onward through the fog!

The Butcher Shop

The post Onward Through The Fog appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

The Right To Vote

Thu, 03/14/2019 - 8:18am
George Rodriguez

Voting rights for illegal aliens? – The Left pushes and pulls America further and further left by proposing and advocating for extreme and outrageous ideas, and those ideas eventually become acceptable to average people. The latest example came on Friday, March 8, when Democrats in House voted to oppose a measure condemning voting in U.S. elections by illegal immigrants which would have been part of a comprehensive elections reform bill.

Republicans in the House proposed adding language to the bill stating that “allowing illegal immigrants the right to vote devalues the franchise and diminishes the voting power of United States citizens.” The GOP motion referenced how San Francisco is allowing non-citizens, including illegal aliens, to register to vote in school board elections.

However, the Democrats, who are in controlled of the House of Representatives, voted to defend local governments that choose to allow illegal aliens to vote in their elections. Rep. Dan Crenshaw (R-TX) said, “It sounds like I’m making it up. What kind of government would cancel the vote of its own citizens, and replace it with noncitizens?”

What’s the point of being a lawful, legal citizen if noncitizens and illegal aliens are allowed to vote and participate in government? Why should noncitizens and illegal aliens receive the same benefits, rights, and privileges as citizens?

When the vote is given to everyone and anyone, it becomes meaningless to the citizens.

The Butcher Shop

The post The Right To Vote appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Why Voters Like Trump in Spite of His Failures

Wed, 03/13/2019 - 11:37am

Donald Trump is remarkably cheerful for a man sitting in the smoking ruins of his presidency. He promised to get tough with China and end our trade imbalance. This week the Department of Commerce reports our trade deficit is $621 billion, much higher than the level that existed during the Obama administration.

Trump’s second summit with North Korean nuclear maven Kim Jong–un was less successful than the first inconclusive gab–fest.

Worst of all, after frittering away two years when Republicans controlled the Senate and the House, Trump’s promise to build a wall and end illegal immigration is in shambles. Illegals currently pour across the border at a rate that will more than triple that of the Obama regime. Trump’s call for a “Deportation Force” may have vanished beneath the swamp, but he’s building a “Space Force” that will apprehend any illegals who achieve low earth orbit.

The budget bill he signed after shutting down the government is worse than the bill be refused to sign before the shutdown. Trump’s ‘victory’ bill has a tiny $1.3 billion dollars for his wall and that pittance is limited to constructing 55 miles of “bollard fencing”. That will make it harder for gas–guzzling SUVs to cross the border, but won’t stop any of the zapato traffic.

Trump hasn’t even managed to scrounge up a ballpoint pen to sign the executive order banning anchor babies he promised way back in November of 2018.

Administration apologists claim Trump’s judicial appointments, the tax cut and regulatory reform are more than enough reason to re–elect him, but that’s like praising a super hero for simply owning a cape. 

Any of the 2016 GOP presidential aspirants would have done the same and that includes chronic fatigue sufferer Jeb Bush.

What separated Trump from the rest was his hardline stance on illegal immigration. One might make a case that the tipping point for immigration occurred when businesses began ordering callers to “Press 1 for English”, but Trump promised to reverse the tide.

His repeated immigration failures will make it very hard for this ‘Deplorable’ to vote for him in 2020, but I may prove to be the exception. 

Trump may win in spite of his repeated failures.

A politician who doesn’t have a genuine personal connection with his voting base lives or dies politically according to his performance in office. Bush the Elder and Nixon before him are prime examples. Trump has that invaluable personal connection and it supersedes his lack of accomplishment on his signature issue.

The iconic image of his recent speech at CPAC proves my point. After a brief introduction Trump enters from stage right and before he walks to the podium he turns and embraces the Stars and Stripes. 

The picture went worldwide in an instant. It will be the mental image most voters retain from his endless two plus hours speech. You look at him holding Old Glory and you know and he knows that he’s mugging. But it’s inspired, patriotic mugging. 

No media consultant or speech preparation expert suggested he do it. The gesture was a spur–of–the–moment impulse that instantly connected with every member of his base and resonated with anyone who still loves the USA.

Can you imagine any Democrat doing likewise? That party has an almost biblical view of the flag. As the hymn ‘The Old Rugged Cross’ says in another context, the left views our flag as “the emblem of suffering and shame.”

Hillary might have grabbed a flagpole to keep from falling down, but not out of any affection for the flag or what it represents.

Trumps gesture bonds with the average patriotic American. Beato, the Texas flavor of the month, thinks being quirky equals a personal connection with the electorate. Skateboarding into an appearance or livestreaming your colonoscopy may appeal to immature trend surfers in the media, but it’s not presidential. And it’s not lasting.

Spontaneous patriotic symbolism is not something one associates with the humorless apparatchiks that compose the Democrat presidential field.

Trump is impulsive, funny and he loves our country. The combination may be enough to earn him four more years.

The post Why Voters Like Trump in Spite of His Failures appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

In My Place

Wed, 03/13/2019 - 4:09am

People called him crazy
Said he was probably insane
But, he sat out there on the edge of town
And didn’t bother anything

He kept some girls out in the garden
And he’d get way out there in space
And when he did I’d realize
He was the man who took my place

Back in 1969
He fought the war in Vietnam
And by the time that he come home again
He was a very different man

I married his ex wife
And raised his boy just like my own
And as I lived my life with his wife and son
He lived the memories alone

When the Post Traumatic took its toll
And he shoved that gun into his face
Some folks called him crazy
But he’s the man who took my place

In my place he walked patrol
As I held his wife he held the landing zone
In my place he went to hell
And Lord, he never should have gone

If you grew up in the sixties
There’s a feeling in you time will not erase
For all of us who didn’t go
There was someone there who took our place

I relived my adolescence this week watching a Netflix documentary series about the war in Vietnam. For the record, I had no love for Vietnam. I disliked everyone in it, and I blasphemed their gods. Vietnam loomed over me all the way through high school like a death sentence. If you made it through high school, and frankly most poor white trash like me didn’t, your senior trip was Vietnam. But, when it was over, and the refugees began to arrive at Fort Hood my view mellowed as I saw a people subjected to the same lies I had been subjected to. They were my brothers, and frankly, they weren’t very heavy. Fact is, they wore out water buffaloes to assimilate, unlike those of the wetbackery persuasion. I saw in the documentary one old man who brought his family to America, and they grew up here. His desire was to die, and be buried in his village back in Vietnam, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it because his family was American now, and they wouldn’t understand.

The war in Vietnam made absolutely no difference in the world. All it did was scar families on both sides of the world. The so-called “Domino” effect never happened, the Soviet Union collapsed any way, and the Chinese didn’t have to take anything from us. We GAVE it to them! The corrupt government of South Vietnam played America like a fiddle, and the day that Saigon fell, and the politicians scrambled for that embassy roof I laughed my country butt off! I’ve never wavered and the Netflix series only re-enforced my animosity toward leaders on both sides lying and stealing. But one thing became abundantly clear to me.

I believed in America. I waved that flag, sang the National Anthem and believed every word that proceeded from Lyndon Johnson’s lying mouth, just like I did with Nixon, and did with Trump. Well, Johnson lied his ass off to us, but he only THOUGHT he could lie until Nixon came along, and now I’m even looking at Trump with a jaundiced eye.

It has become fashionable to think of the American people as children who can’t handle the truth. Johnson did order after order, hiding practically everything behind a wall of lies. Nixon tried to strike a deal with South Vietnam to stall off peace talks until after the elections, completely unconcerned about American lives being lost every day.

And it’s never changed, people! Right now, Robert Mueller is striking his famous report, but he will only let us see what he thinks we can handle. We PAY this fool! This has become Government 101. Ain’t it funny that the more things change, the more they stay the same? And the so-called committees sit up there and causally discuss how dumbed down we’re all going to be! And we sit by like sheep thinking this is perfectly fine. We The People need to remind THESE people that We ARE The People!

George Washington would have hanged Robert Mueller. And I’d watch and eat buttered popcorn. That’s what you do at a good hanging. Popcorn, piss warm beer, and fried chicken. And everyone applauds as he hits the end of the rope.

And now we face Venezuela. Sounds like they need a little ”freedom” down there. When will we ever learn? Refer to my previous statement. Venezuela will make about as much difference in history as Vietnam did. If an earthquake destroyed ninety percent of it that would account for about two minutes on the nightly news. That is IF some homosexual TV Star doesn’t hire someone to whip his ass as a race baiting stunt. Hey Joe! You watching from up there? Tell Jesus there’s a bunch of us coming soon!

The Butcher Shop

The post In My Place appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

The Politics of Hate

Tue, 03/12/2019 - 7:30am

The unbridled hate of the Left is why I basically abandoned Facebook about a month ago. After my granddaughter had to sell all of her principles to get a job, I gave up on trying to reach the illiterate, foaming at the mouth, stupid, baby killing perverts that grace the Democrat Party.

I did it sneaky-like. First, I solidified pages that I controlled. Pages like PeckerWood Press, The Butcher Shop, and Clevenger & Witt. I included Doc Greene and Raging Elephants because Doc and the Apostle are literate. I had to tear myself away from some old friends. As you can see from the pictures their posts are hateful, ignorant, and way out there in left field.

I had believed that by being respectful, articulate, and maybe a little funny, that perhaps we could build a bridge of understanding between the two Americas. I was mistaken. There is no understanding in the Left. Only hate. We, as productive Americans endured the reigns of King George I, Clinton, George II, and while they had to groom Hillary for majesty they just let the butler run the show until it was time.

What Happened? That was the title of Hillary’s lack luster book. AMERICA happened! America was so fed up that her Highness couldn’t even win a rigged election. THAT’S what happened! The Liberals can’t stand it, and Facebook can’t stand it. And it shows! You cannot safely enter into a random discussion on that platform without being attacked by illiterate people who can’t even tell you how many senators or states we have. The Big Mac generation is so entitled that if Hitler were to come back today we’d all be goose-stepping and Speaking German. They have evolved past frontal lobes. America happened, but it was our last hurrah.

The American Tribe is singing it’s death song. In the next ten years Vietnam Vets will be mostly gone. Their grandchildren, then approaching middle age may remember what grandpa said, but they won’t believe it because the foundation of Leftist beliefs will be so entrenched that to challenge them would put you in a Residential Treatment Center for “Re-education,”

And then “they” will come. The Chinese, The Russians, The Latinos, who’s vision is not clouded by the noble thoughts of our Forefathers. The Great experiment will be over. The results will be recorded and children will read of it in generations to come, but they will not believe or understand it. Perhaps in a thousand years, some archaeologist will find a scroll in some dig, and decipher the ancient English, “We The People,” scratch his head and will never understand what the the words meant.

The Butcher Shop

The post The Politics of Hate appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

Border Patrol

Mon, 03/11/2019 - 9:21am

The Border Patrol is Overwhelmed – Border Patrol says there their resources are strained to the breaking point with the high number of people crossing into the U.S. illegally. The majority of the illegal aliens being apprehended are “families” including women and children.

Border Patrol Chief of Operations Brian Hastings says, in the past, those numbers consisted of men from Mexico, but now Central American “families.” These families claim asylum, and they cannot be immediately deported because they must have hearings.

Because there are so many of these “families,” the detention centers are overcrowded. Furthermore, activist liberal judges have determined that these families, particularly the minors, cannot be held in crowded detention centers because it is considered “cruel and unusual punishment.”

Thus these illegal aliens are given a hearing date for their asylum case and released. However, data shows that the vast majority of these illegal aliens never show up for their hearings. They just disappear into American society.

The higher the number of illegal alien families claiming asylum, the higher number being detained and released.

The best solution would be the immediate deportation of all illegal aliens, including families. Illegal aliens are being “rewarded” by requesting asylum and being assigned a hearing date, which then becomes an opportunity to stay in the U.S. indefinitely.

The American taxpayer cannot continue to be abused by foreigners who willfully violate immigration laws.

The Butcher Shop

The post Border Patrol appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.

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.


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?”


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

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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

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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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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. 

The post Howard Schultz Could Use a Little Caffeine appeared first on Tea Party Tribune.


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