Mark my words and mark them well brothers, the above is prescient. You either get that or or you don't. Can you spot the glowies in the crowd? Well, it's not hard. Boys, word to the wise, train, train, train.
Clubland Forever,
LSP
Have you noticed, dear readers, all two of you, that the Left, and it is the Left, have supercharged words? Perhaps you have. In the formerly united Kingdom of quondam Great Britain you can be arrested and sent to gaol for words. Say the wrong thing, go to prison, criminal. You can even, they threaten, be extradited. Yes, extradited to Belmarsh and put in solitary for WRONGTHINK, because of your words. Like wow, we've come to this.
Granted, some words are nasty, I try to avoid them on this mind-blog, but still, does LSP writing SEND THEM BACK DEPORT THEM YOU TRAITORS = a punch in the face, an head butt or a glass inna face, Kray Twins style? Hardly. One is most definitely violent and the other is cognitive, an assault to the mind.
Sure, that can and does hurt, but are the two comparable? Imagine, if you like, 50 divisions of Putler's Thought Police Troll Farms spewing disinfo across the internet. Disaster. Just like the OPERATION BARBAROSSA, except that it's most obviously not.
Several things. First: The Left believes reality is a construct and so they attempt to govern it through speech. Resist this linguistic tyranny at every turn, it's bogus thought despotism.
Second: People that don't believe in Truth will peddle lies, constantly. Again, resist this with the Truth. Cold hard facts wreak havoc with their rainbow Marxist, tin-pot Maoist imaginations.
Third: They're utter idiots. No, words are not violent, dumbasses, like a knife in the gut or a howitzer raining down hell on your position, so call them out. Just say no.
Fourth: Going to war over mere words betrays brittle insecurity. Take heart in that. If they weren't worried they wouldn't be taking refuge in WORD POLICE. For goodness sake.
🇬🇧 Spine-tingling 🇬🇧#Millwall pic.twitter.com/DOGlPnHC9B
— Millwall FC (@MillwallFC) May 8, 2023
Cheers,
LSP
Some days are all about gun, rod and church, others are about cars and that's exactly what went down today. The mission was simple, elegant even in its simplicity. Get a '71 El Camino and a '40s Ford Roadster hot rod out the door of the shop and into a hauler.
Great plan, but it fell apart on contact. The roadster wouldn't start for love or money so we pushed it out of the barn to make room for the Elkie, maybe that'd start and drive straight on through to the hauler and Californian Valhalla. No. It didn't.
Go figure, the battery was dead, so we pumped it up via my rig and a neighbor's heavy duty cables. Throaty SS Chevy growl, the beast was in play and we let it idle. Roadster? After messing with carbs and battery it fired up like the show car it is. Drive that bad boy right up in the hauler.
The Elkie went next and got up to the ramps, and we left it growling at the foot of trailer triumph. Just look at those chrome exhausts and fat back tires standing on the runway waiting for takeoff. Great result. Then it stopped and died. Awful, hideous result.
Maybe the fuel gauge wasn't working and the thing'd run out of gas. Someone went to get more and we refilled the tank. Still no result. Dam. The vehicle had to get on the hauler today and it wasn't running, utter disaster. What to do?
Long, very long story short, it looked like the coil was busted, power in, no power out. This left us with one option, ratchet, no fooling the thing up into the hauler, which is what we did. A beast, but we got it loaded and off on its way California, harming no one, I think.
And that was that. The hauler's long suffering driver was from Kazakhstan, curiously. "Where are you from?" he asked, "From England," I replied, ratcheted out. "Ah! Football! Which team you support?" Good question and I replied "Millwall," and he grinned from ear to ear, "Yes! Much fight! F*ck you Westham!" No kidding, and I grinned back.
"In Kazakhstan I drink pints, many pints, and watch football, and we fight. Manchester United hates Liverpool!" He even showed me his Man U tattoo, right there on his arm, under the big sky of Texas, "People here, they think I am Korean, but I am from the Caspian Sea."
Respect. Fella sleeps out of his dually until he has the money to get his wife and two children to the land of what used to be the home of the free and the brave. Good luck to him.
More on vehicular action as it plays out. God bless you all,
LSP
Cars and strip malls. You can smell it when you park up in front of the credit union, Margeritas To Go, Chipotle, Sonic, Taco Bell and on. There they are, spewing out fast food exhaust as you park in front of the bank. Hey, I'm not judging but it was weird to venture into suburban DFW metrosprawl today.
This, I thought to myself, is how most people live here. Good, bad, indifferent? I don't know, but what I do know is that all it'd take would be one big tornado to strip it all to the ground. Great would be the faux adobe of its fall. But the wind didn't rise, much, and I35 back to the Compound was mercifully clear, result.
Now, food for thought. When everything gets nasty and money, water and food don't work, how are you going to get out of the cities? Will FEMA or the Army help you? Perhaps the apocalypse elves will spring into action and save everyone. Or not.
Here in this rural haven we're cleaning weapons, throwing last year's furniture in the fire, banking crypto and loading mags.
Your Pal,
LSP
The Left loves the working class, except that they don't.
Lattes all 'round.
Cheers,
LSP
