Walk Like an Egyptian? Grill Like a Chieftain

Like an Egyptian? Well, not really but the catchy jingle ran through my head as I passed the jolly old Meth Shack. It's empty now, sadly, and sits disconsolate, waiting for new tenants. I kept walking.

Meth Shack

All the way to the early voting station, where I stood in line waiting to cast my vote with all the other patriots. Or Bolsheviks. Were there any? Hard to tell but I haven't seen this kind of enthusiasm for an early vote ever.

Typical voters

Speaking of which, early voting data shows a large surge for 45, not least in Texas, and no wonder. The corporate sponsored Democrat Communists have made the killer virus that hardly kills anyone part of their platform. 

Whoa... I think I need one

So guess what, all their people are too scared to get out and vote, the virus will kill us!  And on the other hand, they can't be bothered to go to the polls because the Biden/Kamala ticket's so incredibly rubbish. Who wants to vote for that? Then there's the hugely popular riots. Yeah, what a winner.

Grill

Good electoral strategy, guys. Seriously, who's responsible for the K Street genius PR firm? That in mind, I stood in line and cast my vote against Marxism and the corrupt, opportunist crime families who push this odious ideology.

MAGA

Then it was back to the Compound and its grill. Smoke ensued, meat was added to heat and all was well with the world. Burgers were close to perfect, too.

Gator or would that be Caiman?

Your friendly Old Pal,

LSP

Texas Street Walker

The climate changed, yet again, from a balmy Springlike 70 something to freezing wind and rain. It was like being in Aberystwyth instead of Texas, but you know what they say, adopt, adapt, survive. 

That in mind, I pulled on a pair of sturdy G.H. Bass brogues, an Arctic Hardware fleece and a Barbour jacket, maybe label shock alone would scare our enemy the weather into submission, and ventured forth.

I walked past the Methshack, which is suffering because half of the shackers have been evicted. There it was, sitting in the rain behind a semi-urban field which no one's inclined to buy. Who knows, maybe they're waiting for the shack to be cleared before purchasing land to build on and sell.

The Yellow House wasn't looking too good either. It's famous for something, was reinvented as a bed and breakfast, which didn't work, then re-inhabited by crackheads. A friend tried to buy it last year but the deal went south because of craziness. I always ask myself, why would you paint your house yellow? 

Then it was a short patrol through welfare, several shacks, a pleasantly unpaved vista and on to Montes for a late breakfast. Montes is alright and's upped its game lately, with new menus, suspiciously attentive waitresses and an extra dollar on every meal.

I ordered Huevos Rancheros, which was delicious and filling, and pondered their choice of music. Relaxed New Country as opposed to Mexican House/Techno. Curious, they're obviously trying to appeal to someone and sure enough, there were a couple of cowboys getting into the spirit of the thing.

New Country aside, the Fossil Museum was worth a look in and they seem to be getting actual, literal fossils to display to the public. Well done. It used to be a place where someone from the Metrosprawl kept his collection of vintage Cadillacs, and before that the HQ of a filling station chain which stretched to Europe, forgotten now.

Around the corner lies Franklin, broad and wide to accommodate the cotton traffic which was stolen by greed-filled globalists, and home stretch on to the Compound. A short walk, for sure, but the longest I've made since I was catapulted off the back of a mad Arab back in July.

And I tell you, it's good to get moving again, even if on a short patrol around this small Texan country haven.

God bless,

LSP

A Country Stroll

One of the many benefits of living in LSPland is you get to go for gentle country walks through the sylvan boulevards of bucolic Texas. I do that every morning with Blue Pastoralia and it's become something of a ritual. Sometimes we walk by the Meth Shack on our way to the Pick 'n Steal (PnS).

Meth Shack Patriots

The Meth Shackers aren't usually up in the morning but sometimes you'll see them passed out and shirtless in the drive after a particularly hard and toothless night on the meth. Still, chances are they'll be stacking collectibles around the shack later in the day.

Stack 'er Up!

They find things on foraging expeditions, you see, and stack 'em up. Child's plastic car? Stack it on the roof and keep that yard in order. Speaking of yards, the Shack was hidden from view on one side by a vacant lot which had returned to nature, like ancient Rome in the 7th century. Then disaster struck.

Chop 'er Down!

Woodsmen turned up earlier this week and chopped down the meth jungle to make way for a new house. The Shackers aren't happy about this, not for a second, and look on in dismay as back hoes and chainsaws clear away assorted junk trees and trash. Who knows, maybe it'll be the shack's turn next.

Random skulduggery

And with that, we leave the Meth Shack and head to the Shamrock PnS for a strong cup of coffee. It's still run by Nepalese, despite being Irish, and Texan.

I file this exciting story under "country life."

Cheers,

LSP