Showing posts with label Blue Oyster Cult. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blue Oyster Cult. Show all posts

Thursday, October 22, 2020

Presidential Debate


Did you watch Biden's scripted, stumbling, lying, fakey, fraudulent, unconvincing, pathetic, weak, pale, corrupt, inconsequential, China scripted attempt to debate Trump? Remember the sinister Urfa Man? 

Wow, that's your boy, Democrats. To say nothing of Alpha meets Beta.

E Pluribus,


Monday, October 5, 2020


Have you been scared of the virus and had to stay at home, cowering like a frightened little girl in your basement or whatever safe space came to hand? Such an awful affliction.

Here at the Compound we feel your onesie latte pain and want to help. Yes, with Blue Oyster Cult's notoriously awesome Don't Fear The Reaper.



Tuesday, June 30, 2020

The Best Song Ever

Copy and archive this amazing song while you can. Before the Left bans it because they're all in favor of free-speech and tolerance.

But is anyone 1619 fooled? That'd depend on your 1488, right? Sorry, Lefties, the digits side with us and then some.



Monday, April 27, 2020

Godzilla Lockdown

Now, and perhaps more than ever, Blue Oyster Cult's immortal tune Godzilla strikes a chord. You can watch the great band's "lockdown" version here. They play it via Zoom, or something.

And thanks to all who've contributed to Linda's gofundme from this ill-read mind blog and elsewhere. About half way there, let's hit the target.

Your Old Pal,


Saturday, March 21, 2020

Silver Linings

It's dark, wet, and cold in the bucolic haven that is this small Texan farming community meets industrial theme park. That, and the Chinese Plague or "Red Death" is a looming threat from the nearby DFW metrosprawl.

Still, behind every dark cloud there's a silver lining. To name several: Drag Queen Story Hour's been cancelled and no one seems to care very much about preferred pronouns. It's almost as though the "greatest civil rights issue of our time" (Joe Biden) wasn't so very important after all. But of course the Mass is.

Question. Should the Parsons be livestreaming Private Masses or not? I'm inclined to say it cheapens the Sacrament of the Altar. Here's Adrienne:

At first (in a rather paganish way) I thought, "Cool - don't have to put on makeup, fix my hair, dress up. I can sit in front of my computer and think holy thoughts."
Reality. Prayers at the foot of the altar = Erica kitteh demanding breakfast. The Introit = Frankie doggie having to go out and pee. The epistle and gospel = I have to pee. And on, and on.

Good points. Whatever the case, I'll be posting links to the Mass tomorrow.

Be safe and as always...


Friday, February 28, 2020

Don't Fear The Reaper

OK, here it is. Thanks to a commie bioweapons lab in China the entire world's at risk from a weird airborne HIV Kung-Flu. The good news is this.

Don't Fear The Reaper, the virus isn't bubonic plague lethal, but be smart and get in food and water if you haven't already.



Sunday, August 12, 2018

Mid Term Blue Wave

The Dems are hoping for a massive win in the midterm elections because they think the nation will support Abolish ICE, a tranny in every bathroom and a crippling weather tax. And, you know, Ocasio Socialism.

Don't fear the Reaper, open borders, mujerista Democrats. I predict a wipeout but that's just me.

Trump 20/20.

Your Old Pal,


Friday, February 23, 2018

Don't Fear The Reaper

It's easy to say "Don't Fear The Reaper" as you sit back in the comfort of your happy plastic sided home. But what happens when the mist comes down and the debt's called in?

And you wake up to ghost trees, only to find that the US Dollar is equally illusory and all the ATMs don't work.

Perhaps that will never happen, like the fall of Rome or censorship of the internet. Don't fear the Reaper.

God bless,


Thursday, February 1, 2018

Memo's Comin'

The memo's coming and it looks like the FBI & Co aren't too happy. But, but, but the memo's going to compromise national security! Yeah, that's why there's a Russian spy in the White House.

In the meanwhile, ask yourselves why a trainload of GOP release-the-memo congressmen and their families were almost killed on their way to Greenbriar by a stray, completely random truck on the tracks? 

Strange, isn't it. Enjoy the infovideo.


Wednesday, December 21, 2016

Lock Her Up

"I am appalled," he added.

Aren't we all, surely it should've been put in prison long ago. In the meanwhile...

Via ZeroHedge: We assume Schoenberg simply missed the following two paragraphs which point out that FBI agents, without reviewing contents, happened upon "thousands of emails" sent to/from Huma Abedin using State Department email addresses around the same time they know that classified information was sent out over unclassified systems.

Here's a picture of Hillary's exotic "right hand", Huma:

It's time. The nation's had enough of her criminality and vice. 

Lock Her Up. 


Friday, June 10, 2016

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Tight Lines

Sure, you can sit around in slack-jawed amazement at the state of the Worldwide Anglican Non Communion (WANC), or you can get out and fish. I chose the latter option and RV'd with GWB, somewhere in Texas.

The Bass were biting in a small way and before too long I had a couple on the hook and reeled in; so did GWB. Then the the action was on. A monster of the deep took GWB's lure; tap, hookset, and out played the drag. 

Nice Fish, GWB

Big fun and a big fish. Good result. That Bass tournament was won by GWB. But then the sun was setting, the wind died down and the water smoothed out into a golden glassy stillness. Time for topwater.

Twitch that Torpedo and in fairness, a Bass exploded on my lure like a senior womyn clergyperson angling for a pointed hat. It was a close run thing, but the fish got away. Then it was time to get on the road and head back to the Compound.

And that was that, a good time was had by all.

Your Friend,


Wednesday, May 18, 2016

It's Hard, Country Hard

Life may be easy if you're a hedge fund manager, lobbyist, or one of our privileged, deracinated, bi-coastal ruling elite. Everything's laid on; there it is, just watch the cash roll in off the gravy train. But that's not the way it is in the country, you have to get out there and make it happen. My philisophical pal, GWB, reminded me of this, sometime after Morning Prayer.

"Look, LSP, you can sit around all day in slack-jawed dismay at the Deep State of this country, or you can do something about it. Like fish." I took that to heart.

Reeled In.

Thirty minutes later I was on the water somewhere in Texas, making it happen, with worms, plastic and real, and a variety of spinners. The fish scorned that like the American public in the face of yet another Hillary lie. Contemptuous indifference was their hallmark and like I said, it's not easy in the country. Do you give up? No, you don't, you keep going at it.


With strawberry dough bait. And guess what? The fish thought it was the best thing. A Catfish went for the delicious red strawberry morsels like a commie on a five year plan. Then a Bass tore into it, fighting and leaping all the way to the bank. 


Not the privately owned, create your money at interest for profit Federal Reserve Bank, no the bank of the lake. And it wasn't over, another cat hit the delicious strawberry bait and ended up at the shore. It was a mutated kind of yellow, which was interesting, if off-putting. 

Strawberry Dough Bait. Who Knew?

New rods vindicated, I drove through the waterlogged fields, praying that my 2x2 rig didn't get stuck in the mud. It's hard enough in the country without having to tow a fisherman out of the clay... But no worries, the truck made it to higher ground and out the gate, which I closed.

Fish On,


Friday, February 5, 2016

So Who is Marco Rubio?

The American public and the world wants to know, who is presidential hopeful, Marco Rubio?

Is he a shill for the New World Order and the GOP establishment?

Maybe he's just an enthusiastic boy.

Or a bat-eared alien, masquerading as a normal man.

You, the reader, be the judge.


Sunday, January 24, 2016

Little Fur

My sister inherited a coat, Big Fur. She had it tailored down. Now it's Little Fur.

Don't confuse Big Fur and its smaller descendant with anything that went on at a pop concert in California.

That is all.