Today's abolute must read from JohnGaltFla

Go here ... and learn what's in store for your retirement account.  Goodbye 401K & IRA

I've been following this for a long time and





Concerning boogermen and elevator pranks

This video is being referred to on the internet as the scariest elevator prank of all time.  You watch it and be the judge of that for yourself.

I’ve always had a fascination with ghost stories as far back as I can remember.  When I was a young’un we lived in an old wood frame house that was built sometime in the early 1940’s.  It naturally made lots of creepy noises at night, and it was a passion of both my father and older brother to tell me that what I was hearing was the original owner of the house; a Mr. Hankins who died long before I was born, supposedly in our house.  I found out many years later that Mr. Hankins did NOT die in our house.  But as a boy I was utterly convinced that we had our very own spook.

There came the day when I wanted to tinker around in my dad’s very well stocked workshop.  My dad was determined that I would NOT be allowed in his workshop and as expected he’d locked the exterior door with a solid padlock.  Not to be deterred by the likes of a simple lock, I climbed over the wall in the back of the garage and made my way through the overhead and down into the shop.  Success!

After a short while of goofing around in the shop I began to take note of how dark and gloomy it was in there with the door shut like it was.  It was then that “Mr. Hankins” chose to make some strange noises in the very overhead that I needed to exit through (likely nothing more boogerish than a rat).  I decided to take my chances with the locked door rather than confront  some booger-man in the attic of our garage/shop.  I should have thought through the matter more thoroughly.

I got a running start and hit that shop door at full speed.  I don’t know now, forty years later, what exactly I thought would happen.  But what did happen was the door split half in two, from top to bottom; which is exactly what my daddy did to my backside when he got home and found the door hanging from its hinges all askew. 

Estate Tax - change upcoming

This is just one more way they want to herd everyone onto the federal plantation.


You get the government you deserve

No way out

No way back

Only forward

Through the mess

America… you’ve made your bed...


I wasn't sure what was wrong with me this morning

I woke up feeling frustrated and hateful.  It wasn’t clear what was at the root of my dismay.  All morning I’ve been surly and snippy and short-tempered. 
Suddenly I remembered that today is national Buy A Gun day.  So at lunchtime I trucked over to the nearest gun store and bought myself a gen 4 Glock 23. 
Now I feel better. 


A wise man recently said...

These tidbits are the miscellaneous musings of Robert Hall, aka Old Jarhead:

I think every soldier and Marine should be issued a rifle in Boot Camp, take it with him from duty station to duty station--and keep it when he leaves the service. Sure, there would be some problems--but a lot less crime in our society.
Nothing is as successful at killing employee initiative and productivity as micromanagement.
It amazes me how many people make bad life choices, then demand that someone else fix the mess.
Jefferson and Jackson are revered as the great men of the Democrat party, which holds “Jefferson-Jackson” day dinners every year. But if they were alive today, with the current principles and policies of the Democrats, Jefferson wouldn’t show up. Jackson would, but someone would be looking down the bore of Old Hickory’s dueling pistol.
Obama may have stood down when it came time to save the lives of four Americans in Benghazi, but you have to admit he stood up for Sandra Fluke’s right to have someone else pay for her birth control.
Some people ration politeness like there is a limited supply.
Class is not status, or wealth or education or breeding. Class is where you stand when things get tough.


Halloween after-action report

Well a butt-load of little FSA* trainees came by my house last night.  They didn’t bother putting on a costume.  Neither did they bother to say “trick or treat”.  They just held up their bag for goodies, and then scampered away.  Some demanded more.  None bothered to say “Thank you”.

They all seemed to come from the section 8 housing complex down the road. The entrance to my subdivision was nearly blocked by cars parked along both sides of the street.  And not one was wearing a costume.  My doorbell rang as late as 9:30 pm.  Some of them looked to be in their late teens. 

Oh… and they were all black.  

* FSA - Free Sh*t Army