Is The NRA Smarter Than A Tree lawn?

If you have never learned about Whiskey Ranch and want to gain a different sort of insight click here or keep reading and find out who I am or am not trolling now.

Yeah, I said trolling and it is possible I’ll make fun of idiots who post pictures of WWII GIs storming the beaches on Normandy while making snarky comparisons to the kids from Parkland and the March for Life.

Because everyone knows that making fun of kids who survived a school shooting makes you a bigger man or woman. In that spirit excuse me while I go roll some bums, kick a few dogs and beat up some random guy in a wheelchair.

Boy, I feel better now, almost good enough to go lie on social media about how the current administration defeated Hitler and won the war in Vietnam.

Is The NRA Smarter Than A Tree lawn?

I am not bored enough to answer the questions or to address how many of the members have plastic pink flamingos on their porches.

Won’t talk to you about garden gnomes or tell you how stupid tree lawn sounds to me because I am not that bored…yet.

Ok, I sort of did share a few thoughts and ideas there in a way that wasn’t particularly kind or generous.

It might be because I did my impression of my great-grandfather and pounded the table hard enough to get the attention of all around me.

Generally that is not the preferred method of getting all eyes upon me but the stress level went from 9 to 11.78 and I couldn’t bring myself to wait a second longer for quiet.

So I made like a man who was blonde, blue eyes and 6 feet tall. I am told he used to call me The General when I was little and though I am not blonde, blue eyed or 6 feet tall I do have the same last name.

And just in case you want more information Grandpa was a tailor, but wasn’t named Mottel Kamzoil which brings about discussion recently conducted on Facebook.

A friend wanted to know where Mottel’s parents were doing the wedding and I suggested they got wacked by Lazer Wolf.

Of course I could be wrong and it might have been Frume Sarah.

You Can’t Hide From Some Things

The smack on the table came from frustration.

I was trying to explain a few things about the coming days and how uneasy they make me. I was trying to say this is hard for me because I don’t know how exactly how this goes, but I know exactly how it goes.

There is no hero that comes riding into town to help me clear out the bad guys. No fountain of youth or magic potion to be found.

Hope exists and it will for a while but there are limitations upon what hope can do and that has me crawling out of my skin a little bit.

‘Cuz I am the guy that would go for broke in so many different situations. The guy who doesn’t blindly accept what he is told because I have seen things.

When you say never I say never say never because sometimes things happen.

And so I told them that I was uncomfortable and uneasy but explained we can’t hide from some things and I won’t hide from this.

I’ll go forward and see what can be done and if there is anything I can do, but it doesn’t mean I like it or that is easy.

It is just my nature and I do what is required because it is what I was taught and it is what makes sense to me, even in a time that is senseless.

And now I am going to think about Whiskey Ranch and the other stuff that is tied into that particular bit.

Now I am going to let my mind wander and maybe we’ll find out if dreams and reality really do intersect.

There is 5 minutes of reading time you won’t get back, now will you.

Better make good use of your time, we never know when we have used it all…up.