LSP, What a Sell-Out!

God is in His heaven, my rig is in the shop and before you can say, "LSP, you should've done it yourself, what a sell-out!" I'll say it for you. I sold out, to The Man, and let the mechanics deal with the truck's broken coolant system.

There Was a House Here, Once

That meant a pleasant walk back into town along 22. There were more houses here at one time, and nature's fast reclaiming the empty spaces where they once stood.

Courthouse

The railway's still here, though it only runs freight these days, and so is the courthouse, standing tall in the town square. We can thank Willie Nelson for part of that because he helped with its renovation in the '90s, after a fire.

Huevos Rancheros

It's a short walk across the square to Montes Mexican diner and Huevos Rancheros (Rancher's Eggs). Montes has other food and I'm sure it's great, but I don't order it, I just get Rancher's Eggs because I like them and they taste good.

A Couple of Random Glocks

This time was no exception.

God bless,

LSP

Cooking With LSP, Country Style Ribs

"Cooking with LSP?!?" you snort indignantly into an old Jeb! campaign brochure, "You can't do that." But you can, and here's how.

Go out and get a couple of pounds of bone-in country style ribs from the supermarket for around eight or nine bucks. Take a gun, if Nanny allows you to defend yourself like a free man, or woman; I chose a Glock 21, but that's just me. Buy some carrots, celery, onion, garlic, dry white wine, olive oil, apple juice or cider, cider vinegar and tomato paste, grainy Dijon mustard, bay leaves, thyme, chicken broth and dried red pepper. 

Ingredients. Note Spyderco

If you already have these ingredients you don't have to get them again, unless you're all about building fail-safe redundancy into your EOTW (end of the world) food store.

Return from the supermarket and get out a crock pot, cast iron works well, it can go in the oven. Put the pot on the stove at medium high with 2 tablespoons of oil and brown the pork, previously salt and peppered, then place the meat aside. Don't be intimidated, it's not hard.

Shoot The Plate With a Glock

Add 1 more tablespoon of oil, 1 chopped carrot, celery stick and onion to the pot, and cook on medium heat until softened. Add 3 cloves of minced garlic and cook for a further minute, then 2 tablespoons of tomato paste. Stir this up for a bit then pour in that white wine you bought earlier, 1/2 a cup worth. Raise the heat to medium high and scrape up any browned meat or veg from the bottom of the pan. 

While you're at it, turn up the jukebox, perhaps it's playing Thank Christ For The Bomb, or Rebel Son's famous Bury me in Southern Ground. Whatever, you decide, like a Sovereign.

Well done, you've got this far, so have a drink as you look in wonder at the food in the pot. Have several, or not, there no rule.

Meat in, Atogether, Bring to Boil, Transfer to Oven

Wine in, add 1/4 cup of apple cider, 2 1/2 cups chicken broth, 1/2 cup cider/apple juice, 1 tbs mustard, 2 bay leaves, 3 sprigs thyme or dried equivalent, and red pepper. Salt and pepper to taste. Then put the pork in the pot. There, it's altogether. Bring to a boil then cover and transfer to an oven at 325*, middle position. Cook for around 1 hour 45 minutes, removing the lid for the last half hour. 

Scoff

The meat should be fall-off-the-fork tender, if it isn't, return to the oven and cook that pork 'till it is. Take it out of the oven, let it rest for a bit, and serve over mashed potatoes.

Get a Haircut, Fool.

Then eat your scoff like a Warrior. And that's cooking with,

LSP

Thanks a Lot, "Rig."

It being the Feast of St. George, I rose with the sun, got everything squared away, said Morning Prayer, walked the dog and put some rods in the back of the rig; the plan being to go fishing. Good plan, eh? Simple, clear, realistic, doable. But you know what they say, as soon as you make contact the plan goes all to hell. That's what happened to me.

Everything was fine until I got to Whitney and picked up some bait. Then, as I pulled away from the bait shop filling station, the dash pinged me with a check radiator warning and the gauge went into the red like a voracious Bass on a juicy worm.

The Plan

Sure enough, the radiator was leaking coolant like a good 'un and the reservoir was empty. I filled it up and drove home, hoping that, as if by magic, the leak would stop when I got back to the compound. It hadn't, and I resisted the temptation to get a quick fix with Stop Leak and folk remedies like black pepper, eggs etc.

St. George Makes Contact. Note: Princess, Humpback Hill, Your 9 O' Clock.

It can go to the shop on Monday, and in the meanwhile I console myself with the thought that the fish will still be there when we get back in the fight.

All for Texas and St. George,

LSP

St. George's Day

It's the Feast of St. George, patron saint of England and several other countries, as well as Moscow. He was martyred by Diocletian after extensive torture and miraculously saved the city of Beirut from a fierce dragon. His intercession is especially powerful against Turks and Jihadists.

You might find this prayer helpful:

Faithful servant of God and invincible martyr, Saint George; favored by God with the gift of faith, and inflamed with an ardent love of Christ, thou didst fight valiantly against the dragon of pride, falsehood, and deceit. Neither pain nor torture, sword nor death could part thee from the love of Christ. I fervently implore thee for the sake of this love to help me by thy intercession to overcome the temptations that surround me, and to bear bravely the trials that oppress me, so that I may patiently carry the cross which is placed upon me; and let neither distress nor difficulties separate me from the love of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Valiant champion of the Faith, assist me in the combat against evil, that I may win the crown promised to them that persevere unto the end. Through Christ our Lord, Amen.

The account of his fight with the dragon and the demonic idols of Beirut can be found here.

For St. George and England,

LSP

Earth Day, London Goes Baal

It's earth day today, and what better way to celebrate that than by setting up a life size replica of an arch, from the Temple of Baal in Palmyra, in Trafalgar Square.

Baal, meaning "Lord", was the fertility deity of the Canaanites and ranks first in the Goetic 72 spirits, or demons, of Solomon; he's said to satisfy sensual craving, confer knowledge and, curiously, impart invisibility. According to the Zohar, Baal is the demonic equal of Raphael in rank.

Baal's wife is the demon Astoreth, the infernal anti-type of the Virgin Mary. And before you breathe a collective sigh of so what, consider this. Baal was worshiped by sacrificing infants, with fire.

Odd, isn't it, how earth worship or our presently non-cultic modern equivalent, materialism, seems to demand that.

Will the arch in Trafalgar Square open up a portal to hell? Some argue that it's already there.

Mind how you go,

LSP

Consequences, Consequences

All the world knows that the small but fabulously wealthy Episcopal Church (TEC) got itself in trouble with the Primates of the Anglican Communion for being, well, you know, so very gay, maybe the gayest little rainbow of a church the world has ever seen.

Because of that, the diminutive and shrinking Episcopal Church was sanctioned for a period of three years and not allowed to represent the Communion by taking part in its decision making with regards to doctrine or polity. 

The Improbably Named Bishop Tengatenga, Outgoing Chair of the ACC

So far so good, but then the members thin but coffers full Episcopal Church was invited to send delegates to the Anglican Consultative Council's (ACC) meeting in Lusaka, Zambia, earlier this month. And who can blame the ACC? After all, the faith weak but dollar rich denomination funds the ACC to the tune of $400,000 a year. Small change for the empty-pewed but bank-vault-full Episcopal Church, big money for cash starved ACC.

The TEC delegation had a good time of it in Lusaka and were pleased to write about their success in ignoring the sanctions imposed by the Primates:

A Typical TEC Delegate to Lusaka

“Because this ACC meeting was held in the shadow of the January Primates Gathering and Meeting that sought to restrict our participation as members from The Episcopal Church, we want to assure you that we participated fully in this meeting and that we were warmly welcomed and included by other ACC members.”

Justsin

The Archbishop of Canterbury, Justsin Welby, was also present at the event and stated, “The ACC received my report [on the Primates Meeting], which included those consequences. The consequences stand.”

TEC Presiding Bishop Michael Curry

Team LSP questions the transparency of these "consequences;" apparently the Episcopal Church is unable to see them. 

Good luck, Worldwide Anglican Non Communion.

Your Friend,

LSP

Prince is Dead, I Went Fishing

Prince has died. He was a Pop Star singer songwriter from the '80s and considered a super if eccentric talent. He may or may not have been a member of the Illuminati. Regardless, I celebrated Mass this evening and went fishing at Soldiers Bluff, at Lake Whitney. I guess soldiers used to watch over the mighty Brazos from the limestone bluffs, a century or so ago.

That was then, today Soldiers Bluff is a campsite surrounding a cove near the dam and it was flooded, thanks to Hillary's foreign policy and the settled science of climate change, or The Weather, which we're in a war with. Undeterred, I scouted the banks of this near inland sea and I have to say, the catfish were boiling in the shallow water.

Excited, I cast off with worms on a treble hook and was flummoxed when the cats didn't bite. There they were, juicy, tasty, fat Canadian worms and there they were, Catfish, in a bankside feeding frenzy. Hunh. The two should match but didn't, like Anglicanism and credal orthodoxy.

Who knows, maybe the hook was wrong and perhaps a bad workman blames his tools. Whatever, the treble was swapped out for a circle hook, the worms remained the same, and the fish started to bite. I caught a couple of Blue Gills and a Catfish, in a kind of competition with a Mexican gentleman who was bow fishing. 

He shot two Gar with an orange arrow, and warned me about a "real big snake" that was heading our way.

He was a good guy, that Mexican. 

Fish On,

LSP

Hillary Clinton's Foreign Policy Caught on Camera?

Two Florida men believe they may have caught Hillary Clinton's Foreign Policy on video in the Florida woods.

The Foreign Policy, which is popularly known as "Skunk Ape" because of its "awful stench," was briefly caught on camera and could be heard "chattering," making incomprehensible noises.

"I will mimic it," said one of the men, "Most of the time it sounds like bluh, bluh, bluh.”

Others aren't convinced. According to one expert, "It may look, act and sound a lot like Hillary Clinton's foreign policy, but there's a simpler explanation. It's just the Bishop of Gloucester, messing around in the woods, trying to get away from the old curse."

Is the mythical Skunk Ape Hillary's Foreign Policy, or is it the Bishop of Gloucester? You, the reader, be the judge.

LSP

Bernie Sanders Kicked Out of Hippie Commune For Not Working. Chortle.

An upcoming book, We Are As Gods by Kate Deloz, tells the world that presidential hopeful, Bernie Sanders, was kicked out of a hippy commune in Vermont, Myrtle Hill Farm, in 1971 for "sitting around and talking" and not doing any work.

From the Washington Free Beacon:

Sanders’ idle chatter did not endear him with some of the commune’s residents, who did the backbreaking labor of running the place. Daloz writes that one resident, Craig, “resented feeling like he had to pull others out of Bernie’s orbit if any work was going to get accomplished that day.”

Do You See Sanders? No, You do Not.

Sanders was eventually asked to leave. “When Bernie had stayed for Myrtle’s allotted three days, Craig politely requested that he move on,” Daloz writes.

Sanders moved on, though the commune remained until the 1980s, when police found some $200,000 worth of marijuana and a small arsenal of weapons.

What did Bernie do after Myrtle Hill? Steal food out of people's fridges, apparently:

“You get out!” my mom yelled, hitting the man on his skinny ass. “Out, out!” Under her tan skin, my mother’s face was red with indignation. We didn’t have much in our fridge, but my mom would fiercely defend it. The man pulled his head out of the fridge, dropping the food on the shelf. His hair was curly; a cherub’s full-bodied curls framed his startled face. Chagrined, he loped off to the other apartment housed in my family’s converted two-room schoolhouse in Huntington, Vermont, the site of a late-night mock-up session for The Vermont Freeman, the alt-weekly my parents published. Years later, I’d find out that man was Bernie Sanders.

During that time Bernie wrote Man and Woman, and what can we say? Getting the order of the boot for not working at a hippie commune is pretty special, and we all know that hippies are thieves. But I'll tell you this, Bernie Sanders may be an old compol leftist, but he's not an Illuminati Devil Witch like Hillary Clinton. He just isn't.

Illuminati Devil Witch

Democrats, all -10 of you that read this so-called "blog", vote for Bernie. At least he's an honest commie and not part of the DC power elite that are doing their best to turn us into a nation of serfs and slaves.

Kick out the JAMS.

LSP

The Trans Baptist Minister And The Angel

Daniel Robinson started off life as a man and even became an Army officer, graduating from West Point. But then Dan got the call to become a pastor and went to seminary at Baylor to become a Baptist minister. But something wasn't right, Dan didn't think he was a man:

"I have known my entire life that the world was wrong about me, that on the day I was born, when the doctor took a cursory glance between my legs and authoritatively declared 'It's a boy,' he was wrong—dead wrong."

Dan got pretty upset about this over the years and considered killing himself, then an "angel of the Lord" arrived "named Reason"  who made him feel better. 

This is the conversation Dan had with the angel:

"What if God hasn't fixed you because you're not broken?" an inner voice asked.

"That can't be true," he protested. "The Bible says I'm broken."

"What if the Bible is wrong? What if you've been reading it wrong?"

"I don't know," he said.

After talking with the angel, Dan got a sex change and was re-ordained. He goes by Allyson now and says he's "challenged nearly every doctrine that was entrusted to me and that I promised to keep on the day of my ordination. I determined to keep those only that keep me alive."

Now Dan's not a man or a woman but something in between, what someone's described as a "blasphemous parody of a woman" or a kind of "it." What kind of angel would make a person do this to themselves?

Hint, Baphomet is trans. I'll leave you to ponder that.

LSP

Visit The Sick, in Waco

Waco, on Sunday Morning

I have to visit some people in hospital in Waco. Will the town still be there, and how do hospitals operate underwater anyway?

A Couple of Divers, in Waco

That remains to be seen.

Dive, Dive, Dive!

LSP

Texas Floods, So You Fish

Texas is mostly underwater, which forces us to fish. I tried out the old chicken liver and night crawlers method today, all in the hope of getting a monster catfish.

That meant clambering over the bluffs looking down on lake Whitney, and dropping a Carolina rigged treble hook baited with liver onto a recently submerged limestone ledge. I'd seen two big Channel Cats grazing there, so my hopes were up.

OK, Not a Monster, But Still, A Fish.

I left the rod in its holder and waited for the liver to do its trick while I fished the topwater with lures. Sure enough, after about 10 minutes, down went the float, out played the line, and the rod bent with a vengeance. Big excitement, no doubt about it, and I dropped the one rod and scrambled for the other. Reel that fish in! And I did, or at least started to, then... nothing. Whatever it was dropped the bait. 

Fierce Little Thing

My guess is that a Gar hit the liver and ran with it but let go after discovering something was up, they do that. Nothing was biting after that, so I moved on to less adventurous water and was rewarded by a Catfish and a Sunfish.

Gratuitous Texan Sunset Over Lake Whitney

They hit worms on treble hooks in shallow water with the kind of zeal you'd expect from Bernie Sanders promoting the Communist Manifesto. Aggressive beasts, fish. And that, readers, is that, except that it isn't, because the challenge is still on for a big Cat.

Fish on,

LSP