Choktaw Bingo

 

Per Wild, "It's a stone-cold miracle that Ray Wylie Hubbard has lived as long as he has." Good call, Mr. Wild. Me? Go, RWH, even if you are a nasty old hippie and a Dallas boy to boot. So how, like RWH, did Waylon get to live? Mirabile dictu or in other words, I dunno know, miracle.

Still, serious question; many of my pals didn't make it and they were fractions of all the above. Maybe they simply lacked the strength. Whatever, rest in peace kids, and may the blessed Ever Virgin Mary intercede for you, ad aeternum.

Then there's Oklahoma.

Salve,

LSP

Blackface

 

What's with all the blackface going on these days? Like we're living in some kind of postwar musical? Good Lord, we've got Justine Trudeau masquerading as a Moor. Kyrie Eleison, why?

And Talcum X, great civil rights leader of our time

And Rachel Dolezal. Black as the Ace of Spades, except she isn't.

Now this. Nibiiwakamigkwe, real name Kay LeClair, has been running around presenting zhirself as an American Indian, a queer one no less. Quite the Rainbow Hiawatha, but the problem is Kay's white, she's no more "indigenous peoples" than I am.

But what am I saying. My Great Grandfather was part Cherokee, Oklahoma, and looked it too. He blamed everything on the Communists and loved Hal Lindsey's Late Great Planet Earth. He was surely right on the former if wrong in the latter.

In the meanwhile we've got these mountebanks parading about pretending they're black. I'd call that racist, but perhaps you disagree with the logic of the Compound?

Your Best Pal,

LSP

Choctaw Bingo

 

Been there?

LSP

Country Life Dystopia I

Respect

This so-called "blog" is supposed to be about country life, instead of not-so-sly digs against the Axis of Gayness and its willing dupe ally, the Episcopal Church. So here's some pictures of country life, albeit when the cash runs out. See if you can guess/know where it is.

My Great Grandfather used to enjoy this resort, especially for its catfish. We owned a ranch near here; it was sold in the '70s. For Pennies in the Pound, my friends.

Rostrum

I remember collecting arrowheads, when I was a child. They were probably put there, to be discovered. 

Catfish

For some reason the resort lost traction and shut down, my Great Granddaddy's catfish restaurant with it. But it's still there, including the pool, which looks sinister and dangerous. It probably is. My Great Grandfather looked right Cherokee (location hint); he blamed most disasters on the godless Sov-Cubans.

Moral of the story; it's all fun and games till the cash runs out. After that? Look out.

We have three confirmations tomorrow. Pleased by that.

God bless,

LSP