You Must Use, The Force

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My Flag

Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats. - H. L. Mencken

I can feel the cutlass in my hand.

Today the idiots of America voted for what they wanted, and now they deserve to get it good and hard.

Good news is, we don't have McCain as the new president. The turncoat bastard didn't deserve a shot at the presidency to begin with. I really didn't want to vote for him, but I did anyway against my better judgment. It didn't even matter.

But now I make my solemn vow; I Will Never Vote For The Maverick John McCain Again! Ever! I don't care what the circumstances are. Not a bit.

As far as I'm concerned, I'm done with the Republican Party as well, the party of sissified wimps. The party of Compromise, Even If It Destroys Your Principles. The other side of the collective Boot On Your Neck Party that comprises both sides of the isle in Washington. I'm done with their politics. I don't care how many Obamas get elected, I'll never vote Republican again.

I haven't left the party, the party left me. So I'm going to vote with my ideals from now on. I'm voting Libertarian. They're the only party that embodies the views I care about. I'm done with competing brands of socialism. I'm done with supporting a big government that controls every aspect of it's subjects' lives. I'm done voting for the lesser of two evils, because the lesser of two evils is still evil. I'm voting with my feet.

I'm unsubscribing from the system. I'm joining the brethren of the Ghost Nation for good.

I'm out!

Libertatia or Bust!

For Those in the Basin

Is it true that there is not a decent place to eat up in Vernal?

Just curious.

Seems that if it is true, that there might be a market for someone that is willing to open an eatery that makes quality food.

Just thinkin' out loud.

Good Bleeping Gravy!!! I Can't Believe I Missed That!

When I was living up in Salt Lake, I spent a good portion of my time downtown, delivering packaging goods to various companies who needed them.

Spending so much time in the area, I got to know a few good places to eat that had decent parking for a big truck, and I thought I knew all the great eateries around there. Except for Mexican food joints. Utah does not know Mexican at all. Every place that sells it has such watered down, tasteless salsa, mundane flavors, and generally weak food that I despaired ever finding a good place to eat. Seriously, half the reason I moved back to AZ was just so I could get decent Mexican again.

Then last night, I was watching an episode of Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives. Guy Fieri was showcasing what looked to be the only good Mexican food joint in Utah, I swear. The segment was on a restaurant called the Red Iguana. The food looked out-of-this-world awesome. My mouth watered. I wanted some in the worst way.

This awesome-looking restaurant is in Salt Lake! Freaking Salt Lake! I used to drive past it every day! I never noticed it, not once. And do you know what the insult-to-injury part is? I used to eat at a crappy Mexican food joint called Beto's that sits not a hundred yards away! One block down and on the other side of the street was a place that created heaven, while I sat eating crap food made by bored illegals who didn't care!

AAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!

So here's the mission. All you Salt Lake people are to drive down to 736 W North Temple and try it out, for me. Go! Go now! You people know you need some good Mexican food.

Here's their website.

http://www.rediguana.com/home.html

Go get some. You know you wanna.

Gran Torino

The movie is Gran Torino, a quasi-action drama starring the ever-huggable Clint Eastwood.

As much as ol' Clint has made a lot of conservatives angry in recent years (he's kind of a libertarian-Republican, like me), the idea of him in a movie portraying a crusty, irritable, benignly racist old vet who becomes a vigilante in order to protect his neighbors appeals to me greatly. For some reason, I can completely see Grandpa being this king of guy.

Hopefully when I become an old man, I'll be that kind of guy as well.

I think this movie is going to be good. Street gangs, cute little asian chicks, tobacco-chewing Chinese grandmas, and M-1 Garand-toting septuagenarians with the attitude that faith works best, when you put it in a rifle barrel. I can get behind that.

With Hollywood getting progressively more psychotically liberal and sissified, I get more and more disenchanted with those people by the year. Figures that it would be Clint Eastwood to put some gonads back into Hollywood, at least for one movie.

See the trailer here.
http://www.firstshowing.net/2008/10/24/clint-eastwoods-gran-torino-trailer-get-off-my-lawn/

The Great Tally

So I reported a while back the library was going to be charging me 50+ dollars for overdue library books.

Boy, I miss those days.

I can't for the life of me find three of the books that were overdue. No idea where they are. That means I get to pay for them in full. Great. One was an expensive rare Joe Lansdale western-horror, too, and I didn't even get to read it. I hope I find it, it's going to cost me enough.

I just logged in to my library account to see what the damage was, and it almost made me weep.

Grand total-- $121.93

I'm screwed. Oh so screwed.

That is all.

I Hurted Myself

Yesterday Jeremy Buckner and I went out and did a couple of bids in Scottsdale. The day was sunny and not as hot as usual in the North Valley. We were having a good day.

Then came the bad. As we were leaving the last house, I cut across the porch to head out the side gate. Going from the bright sun into the shade was a little blinding, and I didn't happen to see the four inch tall drop off of the porch.

I probably would have been fine if the edge of my shoe hadn't caught on the top of the curb as I was moving forward. But naturally my shoe did catch the edge, and as I fell my ankle rolled to the side and I felt a nasty crunch and it hurt-- alot! Since I was moving pretty fast, my landing was extra hard and I somehow managed to skin my knees, elbow, and abraded my palm as I hit the 120 degree pavers. I lay there for a moment frying slowly on the hot stone, and did a quick self-diagnostic check. I flexed my foot up and down, and according to Jeremy I had a shocking grimace on my face.

Naturally, the first words out of Jeremy's mouth were, "Dude, did you fall?!

Ummmm.... Yeah. I wanted to say all kinds of sarcastic things to him, but all I could come up with at the moment was a feeble, "Aaaarrrgh?"

At first he thought I hit my head on the corner of the steel deck chair that was laying a few inches from my head. Good thing it didn't or I'd have been holding a flap of skin closed over my blood-covered scalp; that is, unless I would have knocked myself out cold.

I got to my feet and tested my ankle. It hurt, but no shooting pain and I could walk on it. I'm not sure when Jeremy started laughing, but he did. According to him it was when he realized just how dramatic it is when I fall down. And how epic the landing always is.

See the problem is, when I start to fall, my reflexes take over and fight tooth-and-nail to stay upright. Add to that my huge feet that give me enough balance to stay up for a few seconds longer but not enough to regain it completely, and the problem is exacerbated, because I will literally run myself into the ground, adding painful velocity every step of the way.

My tumbling, running falls are always grand. And painful. And comical to all who see it.

The pain wasn't so bad last night. I was able to stand for a half-hour cooking baleadas without any problems. But this morning I hurt more. Much more. It doesn't feel broken, but maybe it is. We'll see.