A MIND FOREVER VOYAGING THROUGH STRANGE SEAS OF THOUGHT, ALONE


This is my second blog.

My first blog chronicled my experiences over three years caring for my dad as he lived through and finally died from Alzheimer's. That is the book that is for sale.

This second blog kind of chronicles of life, what it is like to start your life over in your late 50's. After caretaking, you are damaged, file bankruptcy, and the world doesn't care what you did. After 8 months of unemployment, you wake each day knowing the world doesn't want you. Finally you do find a job, 5 weeks before homelessness, but doing what you did 30 years ago and getting paid what you did 30 years ago. So this is starting over.



The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.

Tuesday, March 3, 2015

JEALOUSY

Well, Benjamin Netanyahu spoke  before congress today.  Millions of Americans love Benny.  Millions of Americans admire Putin even though they suspect he'd pull off their testicles with pliers and enjoy the moment.

And herein lies the issue.  We admire 'cowboys', men who walk around with a set of balls and don't mind letting people know.  We, we have numb nuts.  It's embarrassing.

People like Bush, whether they thought he was a good president or not.  You may have thought not, may have thought he was some kind of idiot (typical left wing spin of any republican is that they are an idiot) but you kind of liked him.  Clinton, well you knew he was a slimeball, smart, but a slimeball - he was sort of our Sam Malone president - you know, they guy who thinks a real man is someone who scores with the chicks.

Even if we know now some were underage teenager girls.

Bush I had those great fighter pilot stories, Reagan was a cowboy who loved working on his ranch, Carter would strap on a toolbelt and drive nails with one blow.  All were man's men.  Guys you'd have a beer with.

Obama?  We'd be afraid it ever came out with what he was fooling around with.  Can you picture him trying to clear brush?  Ride a horse?  Dancing to the Village People? Okay, that one fit.  You can see Obama totally into doing YMCA, the rest would look at you like 'really, I don't think so, where's Nugent'?

So that is why americans are infatuated with Netty or Putin, we are jealous.  Heck, most of us suspect Merkle might have a bigger set than Obama. Okay, Putin looked a little nancyboy with that shirtless horse thing, but it was a majestic horse.

All Obama provides it majestic horse crap.

Men like to shoot bullets, Obama wants to ban them.  Men like to drive fast cars, Obama wants us to ride in the back of an electric computer.  Men like low profile, Obama can't tell you what is in a cup of coffee without using "I" 23 times in the two or three sentences.

So watch the next election.  Watch a republican who rides a Harley, chops wood, etc win the nomination and the election.  Or a democrat who can do manly sort of things.  Hillary won't win, Palin might.  We want a president that makes us proud, an eagle who soars, a bear that hunts, a dog that protects.

Not some female shitzu that yaps yaps and yaps all the time.

The next president is going to have manly pursuits, dem or rep, regardless of their stands.  We want a person that cuts a figure we can be proud of, who hunts, fishes, free weights, rides horses or motorcycles, drives a stick, drives a pickup, or best a pickup with a stick shift; not someone who looks happiest when shopping.  Someone who likes to eat steak, thinks coal is great, wouldn't be caught dead in a car with less than 200 horsepower, prefers 300 or more, and doesn't care if some fly, fish, or newt bites the dust so we can build a bridge, hospital, or pipeline.

Gee, I wonder when the government takes over the net, how long before they find this blog and shut 'er down, or maybe I'm suffering delusions of readership again.


And I stood arrow straight
Unencumbered by the weight
Of all these hustlers and their schemes
I stood proud, I stood tall
High above it all
I still believed in my dreams

Twenty years now
Where'd they go?
Twenty years
I don't know
Sit and I wonder sometimes
Where they've gone

And sometimes late at night
When I'm bathed in the firelight
The moon comes callin' a ghostly white
And I recall
I Recall

Like a rock. standin' arrow straight
Like a rock, chargin' from the gate
Like a rock, carryin' the weight
Like a rock
Lihe a rock, the sun upon my skin
Like a rock, hard against the wind
Like a rock, I see myself again
Like a rock

Bob Segar



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