Dallas Reflections

 

When you think of Dallas do you think of the ancient TV show featuring JR Ewing? Perhaps, but regardless, one of the things you get to do in LSPland is drive there, down the murder expressway called I35. I did so today, bumper to bumper tailgating crazy at 85/90 mph. Whatev, same old.

Before long you get to the outer reaches of the massive DFW connurb, but keep on, foot on the pedal, and then there it is, rising like a gunmetal OZ, Dallas' skyline. No small thing and especially emerald impressive at night.

Don't be fooled, though. Get in amongst those gleaming glass and steel towers, which rise Babel to the sky, and what do you find? Beggars, indigents, homeless encampments and associated ne'er do wells chancing it in triple digit climate change. We've moved, you see, into SUMMER. It's like this ineluctable climatic progression.

That in mind, take the Illinois exit, head south on Zang past old and new ghetto housing and ride on 'til you hit Davies and Bishops Arts. Marvel at the throngs hanging out at various bars and eateries, wonder at multiple apartment blocks which have sprung up in the last couple of years, and mourn the tragic passing of Ten Bells and Hattie's, two BA stalwarts which went under post COVID.

Oh well. Hang a right opposite the appalling PHD Pourhouse sports bar and into this neat wine shop. Buy a bot and get into a convo with the staff. Like this: 

"Hey, man, I saw you went into here by the door." You pause and reply, "Yeah, that's what I did."

"But why did you do it that way, was there, like, a METHOD?"

"Say again?"

"A method?"

"Sure there was. I walked in the door and spotted some kind of white zin on offer and wanted to look further, that's why I ended up by your fridge and this great bottle of Malbec."

"Wow, man, you sound like Elon Musk!"

"Is that a good thing, brother?"

"Yeah it it is, all good, man."

 

I looked at my tattooed counterparts, what were they, extras for Pirates of the Caribbean?, and gave both boys a sunny hello goodbye. Yeah, they'll be laughing when they're extradited to England. Good luck with that, stoneheads.

Vinter's done, fall back to Ma LSP, who's watching a neat show called, "Why Does Everyone Hate Meghan Markle?" What a good show. Surely not because she's a D-List, simpering, fraudulent, delta minus semi moron, social climber, gold digging Hollywood fool. Surely not, and a witch who ensorcelled Harry with her witch power. He, of course, is obviously an idiot.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

Back In Dallas

 

At Dallas HQ on a pre-Christmas mission. Part of that involved going to Hunky's in Bishop Arts for excellent burgers. Seriously, they do a good job and you should go, but beware, it's not easy to find parking and you might have  deal with the Bat Woman muriel.

Rando Revolver

Huh, since when did Bat Woman free Palestine? Last year she was standing with Ukraine and the year before she was trusting the science, wearing a mask and getting vaxxed. Like no kidding, zhe's a right social trend barometer.

Genuinely Good Burger

Delicious burgers complete, we drove around the neighborhood, looking in awe at new apartment blocks going up in what was once shacktown ghetto. Smart people snapped those shacks up and guess what, now they're worth lots. 

A Wooden Tree With Glass

We balked at that investment opportunity, oh well, but did manage to set up a tree which glistens in the living room. Nice. In other news, the Pope's gone gay but not as gay as the Church of England, and the Senate's apparently some kind of bath house. And people are fleeing Democrat cities because Climate Change. But of course they are.

Cheers,

LSP

DFW

 

Took a night and a day off to head over to the familial homestead in the metrosprawl. Big fun, drinks under the pecan tree and not a commie in sight. Great result.

Next day? Not so much, as construction crews ripped up the neighborhood like a sledgehammer and industrial scale leafblowing tore through the tranquility of the morning.

Well, whoever said life'd be easy? I remember no such promise and we repaired to Bishop Arts for a grilled cheese sandwich. It was full of people ignoring the "6' distance!" signs on the pavement and having fun in the springlike weather. 

You wouldn't have known, for a second, that our Republic was hanging by a thread under the threat of massive, industrial scale vote rigging and that our democracy was an ephemeral scam, a smokescreen hiding a transnational kleptocracy.

No, everyone was happy and rightly so. The Climate, our Old Enemy, smiled upon us. Maybe she'd been paid off in some weird carbon credit, pay-to-play version of Danegeld. Whatever, all was good.

But will it be good if 45 wins this battle and flips the media-called election in favor of life as opposed to death? I don't know this, but I do know the Left will go HOG WILD when and if the Kraken awakes. Don't drop your hammer on the scorecard on your way out.

Cheers,

LSP

Blue Christmas

Here at the Compound things are pretty rough and ready, as you'd expect, but back at HQ? Different story, only the very finest wines and food will do. 

That's why Blue Navidad got lobster for Christmas. He tore right into that tasty snack! Delicious lobster.

Lucky dog, to be so privileged, unlike the lobster, which lost out in the greater scheme of things. Sorry, crustacean, they can't all be winners. But what can we say, let's hear it for seafood.

As I write this piece of nuanced, three-dimensional prose, safely back at the Compound, the happy sound of Navidad fills the air. Those of you who equate angelic choirs with pulsing Latino bass will know what I mean.

And I'm not complaining.

Merry Christmas,

LSP