Showing posts with label I35. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I35. Show all posts

Monday, January 20, 2020

A Gentle Richmond Reflection

A lot of people, to put it mildly, were worried about the 2A demo in Richmond today, including me. 

Would a Deep State asset cook-off and provide the lying, pugnacious, venal, corrupt, hypocritical, elite Media with an excuse to launch a vicious anti-freedom campaign? Would there be some kind of false flag as thousands of heavily armed men and women descended on the Old Capitol of the Cause?

Governor Blackface Northam Father of Lies certainly thought, at least publicly, that there'd be trouble and declared a state of emergency. Maybe, ran leftist rhetoric and perhaps genuine comtard paranoia, gun people would storm the Capitol in a fit of white nationalist supremacism. But no, 25,000 armed patriots turned up, made their point, picked up their trash and went home.

Relieved but not utterly surprised by this happy outcome, I drove to Dallas with Blue Second Amendment. I35 was a beast because of ongoing and perennial roadwork but no one got hurt, not dissimilar to Richmond when you think about it.

Before you could say "an armed citizen's a free citizen" we'd arrived at Ma LSP's place, where a crew of Mexicans were replacing wood, sanding down paint and generally making themselves useful. Well done Mr. Gonzales, give the compound a respray. 

Congrats to the 2A crew today and right thinking Virginians in general. Shoot straight and run Ralph "Minstrel" Northam outta town on a rail, use votes if you must. And have you noticed?

Meghan Markle makes Wallace Simpson look good. No easy task, all hail Sabo.

Gun Rights,


Friday, October 4, 2019

So I Went To Waxahachie

Wake up, feed the dog, boil the kettle, say Morning Prayer. Shower, go to the Pick 'n Steal and get coffee, check the news. Note how Operation Boomerang is progressing nicely for Joe "Don't Call Me Quid Pro Quo" Biden. Play Groove is in the Heart by Deelite.

Then drive to Waxahachie. Yes readers, all seven of you, Waxahachie. Why? Because you've been invited to the Global Orthodox Anglican Church's clericus. And there you are , at this little Texas Gothic church in the midst of a pretty neat town. Note, Waxahachie's been gentrified, thank God.

I heard a talk from the OAC's Primus about the Eucharist. Simple stuff but alright with it. Then I lurked off to the church hall and talked horses with a ranching woman who was making pulled pork, even though it was Friday.

She was down to earth and used to cowboy because her Father didn't have any sons to look after the cattle. Respect. We talked Arabians and "hitting the ground like a sack of wet charcoal." Then it was time for Mid-Day Prayer.

The impressively bearded Primate of the OAC performed a quick change parade and walked over to the church in Rochet, Chimere and all the rest. I called out, "Bishop, you're looking terrifyingly Choir Dress," he chuckled at that, which I liked.

As we were entering the small but winsome church I told him, boldly, "Years ago I went to the King's School Canterbury and we used to have Summer assemblies in the Quire of the Cathedral. It was Sung Mattins, and after the first one I wrote home, "Dear Mother, I think I've been to a non-communicating Solemn High Mass. I was twelve at the time."

His Eminent Grace thought that "very good" and I replied "very ridiculous" and off we went to the Office. All well and good. And it was. So good to be with loyal, catholic Anglicans, people who actually believe in the Creed they stand up and proclaim Sunday by Sunday.

Waxahachie's neat too, nice little town.

God bless,


Monday, July 22, 2019

Turn Of The Screw

Turn of the screw, as in Epstein starts giving up Clinton state secrets and Comey sings under that good old Horowitz method? We wish, but no, it was all about driving to Waco to get staples out and x-rays on the hip to make sure everything was Trump Train according to plan.

Apparently it was, "Nothing crazy down there," observed an attractive radiologist before sending me upstairs to the staple shop. I grinned back, she was reassuring, and headed out to the next date with destiny.

A bored staple mechanic asked me to "stand over there," so I hopped over to a naugahyde examining couch and stood there, wondering what to do. "Look, I can't take them out if your shorts are in the way." I sorted that out, she set to with a handy pair of pliers and out they popped.

Then another medical professional swung by and gave me the run down. Nothing crazy down there, just three enormous screws holding my bone together. Start putting weight on the leg, exercise the muscles but listen to your body and sure, you can ride again if you're stupid. Do the screws go away? "No, you've bought them, they're yours."

I liked her for that and cleverly didn't say, "Yes, Ma'am, but aren't they a gift from Baylor to the Church?" And that was that. The Recruit wheeled me out of there and taxied us back to the Compound. 

And no, we didn't stop at Waco's fabled Silos. Why? Because they're overpriced rubbish. On a different and happier theme, the youngster ships out to Benning late August.

And that was troublesome to me, hurry up Army! But it's turned out for the best, as it goes. 

Stand firm against Satan's New World Order,


Sunday, May 6, 2018


Friday dawned dark as Llandrindod Wells in June, with thunderheads glowering above. Then it started to rain like a Weston Super Mare Bank Holiday and that continued until we got on the road for Dallas. Such is the apocalyptic nightmare of climate change.

Weston Super Mare

By the time we got to Dallas we were half a million strong, thanks a lot, I35, but the air was crisp and clean and the sky clear and blue. Sorry, Chicago, I know it's not fair but that's just the way it is, you need to pay a steeper weather tax.

A Typical Etonian

We set up for Ma LSP's birthday party, which went famously and didn't stop until the next evening; good work, team, stay at it. And you may not know this, but champagne with a little orange juice is a traditional Cinco de Mayo drink. Some find it goes well with beer, others don't, there's no rule.

Party over, we headed back to the rural elysium of the Compound and got ready to worship on Sunday.

As I type this dispatch from the Southern Front of the War on Weather, Pedro and Maria are powering out Mexican music in the back yard, peacocks shriek, roosters crow, something Mexican's on the grill and God is in His heaven.

Fishing's most definitely on the schedule tomorrow, maybe a shoot too. Can you have too much of a good thing?



Monday, April 10, 2017

Don't be a Determinist Goon, Fish

Life, unless you're some kind of rubbish determinist, involves a series of free-will choices. For example, you can choose to attack the Islamist savages, ISIS. Or you can attack the regime that's fighting them by throwing missiles at their airfields. Your choice.

Likewise, you can sit staring at a computer in slack-jawed rightist consternation as our country slides closer and closer to war, or you can go fishing. I chose the latter option and loaded a couple of rods in the rig and headed to Soldier's Bluff.

The Texan wildflowers were out and I wondered if that was a good omen; Bluebonnets in flower, fish bite with power, sort of thing. But no, they didn't. The bites were sluggish and slurpy and I lost a lot of worms without closing the deal.

For the first time in months, no catch, and that was everyone else's experience there on the bluffs. Still, it was good to get out in the clean air by the lake, it always is. There's peace in it and, if the fish are behaving, excitement too.

Your Old Pal

There was another kind of excitement driving through a storm to Dallas later in the day. Lightning seared the horizon, like Tesla attempting to harness Satan, as rain crashed down onto I35. God's judgement on the metrosprawl.

Fish on,


Saturday, March 11, 2017

Fiend From The Pit

It's common knowledge that exorcisms are on the rise and no wonder, what with the popularity of satanism and associated occultist skulduggery. How many of our ruling elite, like the Podestas, are involved? Some? Many?

Whatever the case, I thought I'd have to cast out an evil spirit at 6.30 am this morning, when Blue Malefactor began to bark like a fiend from the Pit. I wasn't too happy about that.

It rained later, just in time for the trip down I35 to the country compound. Great sheets of water fell from the sky, turning the highway into a kind of storm tossed canal for cars. Then, somewhere near Waxahachie, the rain stopped and the sun broke through the clouds. Beautiful.

They say that if you collect water in cisterns during the rainy part of the year, in Texas, you'll have water for the entire year. I could believe that, given the ferocity of the rain when it does fall and, given the stability of civilization, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to invest in a secure water supply.

Prep On,


Wednesday, January 4, 2017

On The Road

There's times when I feel Texas is a road, I35 in fact, because that's the way you pretty much have to travel if you're going to Dallas from the Compound. But it's not all bad, there's big Texan skies and the comfort of knowing your rig is a "safe space." But why drive to Dallas?

Safe Space

Because one of the LSP Sisters was in town with her family from England and I wanted to say goodbye before they flew off to the Old Country. That meant a celebratory meal, industrial quantities of red wine and getting woken up by Blue Alarm Nazi at 6 am. Thanks, dog.

Blue Alarm Nazi

As the house woke up I ate a tasty cinnabon in honor of Princess Leia before walking off into the wilderness to visit a dentist. Time to get your lower jaw working again, LSP, I thought grimly to myself. But the mouth torturers were shut so I took a stroll around the neighborhood.

Princess Leia

It's "popping," with real estate going through the roof. Everyone wants to live in an "arts and crafts" bungalow reclaimed from the ghetto. All yours, for 500k. Still, if you wander a couple of blocks south things get a bit more "bars on the windows barrio." Word to the wise, take a gun.

No Desertion, No Surrender

I liked this roadside shrine.

God bless,


Friday, October 28, 2016

LSP in the City

If you're fortunate enough not to get killed by insane drivers, you can drive to Dallas from the Compound in around 45 minutes, all thanks to Texas' own "corridor of fame," I35. I did exactly that on Monday.

The Eye Liars

But why, LSP? You ask wonderingly. Because I had to take Ma LSP to the eye surgeon early Tuesday morning, in a place they call "Arlington." What is this "Arlington?" I'll tell you, it's a road. In fact it's many roads, and it's a strip mall, make that many strip malls. It's like a vision of ersatz eateries in the midst of a traffic experiment. People live there, too, lots of them and there's Eye Surgeons.

Oh Look, a Strip Mall

So we climbed in the rig and headed off for Mid-Cities metrosprawl action and we didn't want to be late, because the surgery was scheduled for 10 am. Be there on time, went the implicit warning, or you'll miss the eye doc.

See it? A Fake Eatery

Ma LSP went under the laser at around 11 am. Good time keeping, Eye Liars, leaving me to knock about the health services strip park while gazing over the highway at the strip mall.  And then it was done, cataract gone, and back to Dallas HQ.

On The Road

What was it like in the big city? A bit dislocating after the country, the roads are a right menace, and why does there have to be so many fake eateries in phony town centers, aka strip malls. That aside, there's an energy to Dallas which I like and the skyline looks neat at night.

Drive safe,


Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Ripped Off

Yesterday's fishing was hijacked by locksmithery and I thought I'd make up for that this morning. First things first, put a couple of rods in the bed of the rig and stop by Walmart to pick up a lure and some worms. 

Simple, and so it was until I returned to the truck from the store, looked in the bed and lo and behold, no rods. Some goon had ripped them off, so I drove 'round the car park looking for rod thieves but they were long gone.

Some Thieves Ripping Off a Crop

Maybe it was some crew of freaks, chancing it on their way back to Austin, trying their luck down the I35 corridor. I don't know, it's possible, but one thing is certain.

It takes a special kind of wickedness to steal someone's fishing rods.


Wednesday, October 29, 2014

I Went to West and Got a Haircut

Typical West Street Scene

Like the song says, I was born to have adventure, so I climbed in the truck and drove to West for a haircut. They have a barber there.

He was in his 70s and had a dyed blond "fauxhawk." Pretty sharp, and I told him, "I'd like a haircut please." He replied, "Like you're 16 again and all the girls like you! Gets to where they don't even notice you if they're under 35. Yessir. Medium." So out came the clippers and off went the hair, almost all of it.

Where's Your Hair Gone, Buddy?

He wasn't very happy about being in the Korean war and thought it was pretty much "bullshit." He was even less happy about having to clean planes that had been part of the hydrogen bomb tests.

"But you look alright," I said as I paid him his clipper fee.
"I am not, internally," he replied.

Next year, when my hair's long enough to cut again, I'll go back to that barber.

If you get the chance, go to any of the bakeries in West. They're outstanding.

God bless,


Friday, September 14, 2012

Murdering Muslim Mob

Rather than comment on the honest truly horrendous portrayal of Mohammed as a violent pedophile who beheaded Jews, which you can watch here before Youtube pulls it, I'll leave you with some pictures of Italy.

Not the European one! No, this is the It'ly that you'll find nestling by the side of I35 on the way to Waco from Dallas.

It has a McDonalds, where I stopped for two cheeseburgers, and a drive-in liquor store. For some reason gas in It'ly is 13 cents more expensive a gallon than it is in Hillsboro. But don't be fooled, Italian gas is no better than the fuel to be had further South.


I was happy I was armed.

As you leave Italy you can look back over your shoulder and see the it recede in the rear window of your pickup.

Now, I'm not some sort of useless "all religions are the same" comsymp pacifist, but I pray there's not another war in the Middle East.

Looks to me like that might be hard to avoid.