December 20, 2015

It’s December 14. Folks everywhere are putting up their Christmas trees, hanging lights, and shopping for loved ones. But all I can think about is the fact that our 1999 Saturn SL2 might be ready for the junk heap and our rental car is due to be turned in on Saturday the 19th. I knew Tracey was apprehensive about the prospect of buying a new (actually, replacement) car on such short notice – as a scientific type she needs time to look at every possible scenario at every possible angle before pulling the trigger on anything – but, frankly, we had done as much prior homework as we possibly could have and now was no time for dilly-dallying.

It was unseasonably cold and dark when we test drove the 2014 Maxima at Enterprise Car Sales, and the Maxima was the same model as the one Tracey had rented a few weeks prior. So we pulled the trigger. A nice (and rare) blue model with a black interior, 34K on the odometer, at a price we could handle by paying cash. Whether our teeth were chattering because of the cold or because of the stress we both felt at the time I can’t say (I’m guessing it was a combination of the two), but the deed had finally been done. The only problem in Tracey’s eyes was that the Maxima had a slight pull to the right; no problem says the Enterprise guy, I can take it to my Firestone guy and they’ll do a front-end alignment at no charge.

Earlier in the day I had had a chat with Bob at AAA auto repair, and he assured me that he felt the transmission issue I had encountered with the Saturn on Saturday was nothing more than the result of the catalytic converter failing and the fuel injectors sending false info to the transmission. Sounded logical to me, so knowing I was gonna be out $1,200 after all was said and done I gave him permission to proceed.

On Wednesday I take the Maxima to Firestone and they take care of the alignment issue. I’m congratulated for finally getting a newer car than the 1999 – as the front desk guy tells me, “You finally got a car older than the Clinton presidency!” The best I can do is work up a weak smile.

Two hours later I’m back at the AAA auto repair place. Bob at the front desk tells me all went great and the car will last me another 50K miles at least. So call me surprised when, as I’m pulling out of the lot, the car jolts as it shifts into first gear, then again going into second, then the familiar racing as it goes into third, then the loud bang as it shifts into fourth. To put it mildly, I am beyond pissed, and I’ll admit, I’m making a scene back at the repair shop counter. An elderly lady in particular looks at me in bemusement as I absolutely rail against Bob, who calmly takes it, then suggests we take a drive.

Now it’s Bob who is unhappy as the Saturn jolts and lurches its way around the block. I’m beside myself, my stress meter running into the red, and he’s pissed that what he told me on Monday turns out to be – yep – a lie. In my mind I’ve just wasted $1,200; in his mind he’s lost a lot of integrity. He hands me a card of a transmission guy in Mesa and assures me the catalytic converter work they did needed to be done and will keep the car running smooth for another 50K miles, and his transmission guy “Captain Kirk” will do right by me. The Saturn bangs and lurches itself home and I tuck it in the garage for safe keeping.

Thursday I call the Captain, and he tells me to come by on Friday. “Don’t worry”, he assures me, “I like those SL2s, they’re indestructible. Why, for one guy in your position I ended up finding a transmission in a junk yard for $500 that worked perfectly well. Come on by and we’ll give it a good look-see.”

Somehow I’m not feeling assured. That night I get my Christmas cards done while listening to Pink Floyd.

On Friday I bring the Saturn over to Captain Kirk. He looks at the paperwork I gave him from AAMCO five years ago when the original transmission was replaced and I was charged $3,800 for the work. “You’re not going to like this”, he says, “but that guy took you for $2,000 more than it should have cost.” He has a guy do a test drive and comes back saying the transmission problem is due to an “electrical problem”. Minimum charge will be $100, then they’ll see what happens after they fix that. He’s pretty confident the transmission doesn’t need to be replaced.

Both Vegas and Christmas seem very far away.

“We’ll take care of this for you”, says Captain Kirk, “but do me a favor: take it straight home and don’t drive it until you bring it back here on Monday.” I feel as if I’ve lost control of my whole world. When I get home I down the first Johnny Walker Red I’ve had in two years.

So that’s where things stand. We have a new Maxima that drives great. We have a Saturn with a transmission issue yet to be resolved. It’s five days before Christmas and I could care less about the day. In fact, were it not for the presents already starting to appear under the Christmas tree I’d be taking down the decorations tomorrow. I’ve hated the idea of spending money on cars for years and this is exactly why.

Per Andy Williams, it’s the most wonderful time of the year. NOT. I’m not hearing sleigh bells and ho-ho-hos, I’m hearing the sound of dead presidents sliding out of my wallet on a daily basis. And it doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas or the 4th of July – that’s not a sound you like to hear any time of the year!

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 01:38 | Comments Off on Car Week From Hell (Part II)
December 19, 2015

I’m just letting everyone know I am not in the Christmas spirit. Not one iota. If I had my druthers I’d lay down to sleep tonight and wake up, oh, sometime around January 4. There are a number of reasons for this, but the primary one is that I have always considered cars a necessary evil, and this past week has brought out all the evil cars can. First a little history:

We were reduced to a one-car family when, back in August of last year, some dolt not paying attention slammed into our Saturn L300 on the eastbound 202 at 60 MPH, turning our midsize into a compact and sending Tracey and her twin sister to the hospital with concussions. Over the next year, while the personal injury lawyers battled it out with the insurance companies, our second car, a little 1999 Saturn SL2 with 130,000 miles on it was forced to bear the brunt of daily commutes and rush hour traffic. That’s a lot to ask for, especially for a car whose history goes back to our time in Louisville with frequent commenter Jana, but it did the best it could. When we finally got our settlement I was keen to get a replacement – and pronto – but you know how these things go: you don’t just snap your fingers and a replacement car magically appear.

My idea was that we would rent some cars for a few days so Tracey could get an idea of the kind of car she wanted. We knew we didn’t have the cash for a new car, so something with 15K – 30K miles on it seemed like the most cost-effective solution. When we rented a Nissan Maxima several weeks ago from Enterprise, Tracey seemed to like that, and the counter guy encouraged us to take a look at Enterprise Car Sales as a buying alternative since their cars were the top of the line and there was no haggling over prices like at auto dealerships.

Upon my return from Vegas I knew I had to get moving on this. The Saturn had 163,000 miles and already needed its catalytic converter replaced at an estimated cost of $1K or better. So last Saturday I headed out on my own to make something happen. A trip to a Nissan dealership found me in the same kind of pressure-inducing, “what would it take for you to drive this car out of our lot today” kind of bullshit I thought went out of style when George W. Bush was president. It was there that, backing out of my parking spot I felt an unusually-hard lurch in the Saturn’s transmission. Now when you’ve got 160K+ on your odometer any car is going to get grumpy from time to time, and, my heart beating faster, I prayed this was an occasion where in my desire to get as far away from that dealership as possible and as quickly as possible I might have gotten too greedy with my driving intentions.

It was then I saw within driving distance the Enterprise Car Sales place I had been looking for to begin with. The Saturn wasn’t happy – shifting from first to second produced a hard jolt, from second to third the same but less so, from third to fourth no lurch but a weird sense of the engine racing, then from third to forth a heavy jolt that made you think you were leaving car parts on the road behind me – so, sweating bullets, I pulled into the Enterprise lot and shut the ignition off. I was beyond stressed out, so I took a few minutes to collect myself and calm down, for it was time to start some serious car hunting.

The folks at Enterprise Car Sales were nothing but great. No pressure, no haggling. My immediate Saturn concern pushed me into an aggressive, no holds barred, “show me what you got so I can pull the trigger and get a damned replacement car pronto”, yet the guys there were patient and understanding. They knew the hard sell was going to send me into another orbit, so they calmly and positively showed me what they had in Maximas and Altimas, and we found a Maxima at another dealership 40 miles away that they were willing to drive down for a Monday night test drive.

The Saturn was in a bad state. I spent the next 25 minutes banging and lurching my way home. I already had an appointment at the AAA Auto Repair facility on Tuesday for the catalytic converter, so it was a no brainer to get the Saturn over there immediately. But I needed a rental car first. It was 12:50 on a Saturday afternoon, so I knew I was hardly in the catbird seat. I called Hertz (they have an office at the AAA facility), but after ten minutes on hold the guy told me he was closing in ten minutes and was clearly not interested in staying around to help us out. I’ll admit I told him off with an expletive deleted. By that time I knew the Enterprise car rental place up the street from us that we had been using to try out cars had already closed.

I was, to put it mildly, a thousand light years from my time in Vegas.

Fortunately, I found another Enterprise place twenty minutes away that was open for another hour. The Saturn was barely driveable by this time, but we got it down to the Enterprise place and got a rental. I then sweated every bullet I had in my holster as the Saturn limped down to the AAA facility. I can’t tell you the stress and relief I felt as I shut the engine off; as we drove away, I couldn’t help but think I had driven that car for the last time.

On Saturday night I did my homework. The Saturn was going to cost $1,200 to fix the catalytic converter; if a new transmission was needed it would cost me at least another 1 or 2K. Did I really want to spend that money? I Googled a junk place and found someone who could give me $120 to take the car away. At that point it really felt like the end of an era.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 01:29 | Comments Off on Car Week From Hell (Part I)
December 18, 2015

As you know from earlier posts is one of my all-time favorite Pink Floyd songs. (Can you tell how much I’m not in the Christmas mood? I should be posting Phil Spector Christmas stuff, dontcha think?) Anyways, the Floyd’s full version is here, but if you want to see what it might look like performed absolutely live with band and chorus I highly recommend you pour yourself a cocktail, set your YouTube setting to full screen and enjoy this video by Pink Floyd Legend. They do a pretty fine job mixing live with the Floyd’s original effects. My only quibble is with the drummer – he’s a little (as Donald Trump might say regarding Jeb! Bush) “low energy”, and not as active as Pink Floyd’s Nick Mason was on the original recording. Still, as a modern piece of popular music (dare I say, opera?) it’s positively fab, and I wish I was one of the members in the choir singing all those funky passages.

Even with all the psychedelic stuff that was going on back in 1970 I still find this to be a truly unique and stirring piece of music. Think of it: today we have Justin Bieber. My how civilization has evolved!

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 00:52 | Comments Off on Atom Heart Mother
December 17, 2015

What a week. Fully immersed in auto crises, auto assessing, auto buying, auto despairing, auto repairing, then more auto despairing. Considering that over three days we’ve spent approximately $25K in autos makes me woozy, and it ain’t over yet. More details another time. In the meantime…

If you’re a presidential candidate this is how you show up for a campaign event. Wish I could have been there but I was – where else – at the auto repair shop.

Lots of folks ask me how in the world a level-headed guy such as I could be so committed to voting for Donald Trump. Ace of Spades tells it exactly the way I feel:

Thus the double-standard so many complain about: The [GOP] Establishment tells the grassroots not to make demands, and to remain loyal to the party no matter how little of its agenda is pressed for, while the Establishment and the pampered corporate wing feel pretty damn comfortable serving up ultimatums and splitting from the party if their agenda isn’t eagerly serviced.

How many times has this happened? The Establishment behaves as if it has a kingly Right to Rule. How many times has a Tea Partier lost to an Establishment figure, only to dutifully endorse and campaign for the Establishment winner; and how many times has a defeated Establishment fuck turned around and betrayed the party by throwing the race to a Democrat?

The hell with you. May the devil take you all.

So fine: As we’ve been saying, Burn It Down. You’re Democrats anyway; you’re just more realistic than the normal Democrat about how much of your income you’re willing to hand over to the government to redistribute to strangers.

I’m sure you can make some compromise with them; you’re good at compromising with Democrats. A 70% top marginal tax rate? Split the difference, it’s all good.

So go.

Go, and go to hell.

And you need to look no further at how conservatives get treated by their own party than to look at that ass Paul Ryan’s budget that gives Barack Obama and the Democrats everything they ever wanted. To think I once thought he was jake, boy was I a fool! But that’s why I want to see the GOP establishment burned to the ground. Even were Trump to lose to Hillary Clinton (which he won’t – he’ll destroy her), at least with Hillary I don’t have to worry about being betrayed. As far as I’m concerned there’s no difference between Washington Democrats and Republicans. They’re all corrupt and all in the tank for each other. Burn. It. Down.

Here’s another cut from the best concert I ever attended. I absolutely love love love David Gilmour’s solo to close out the end of the song, I think it’s one of his best. Very Clapton-esque.

Oh hell, you might as well as let it play through to this. Some of the best lyrics Roger Waters ever wrote. With all the auto issues this week. I guess I’m feeling (un)comfortably numb.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 01:07 | Comments Off on Thursday Thoughts
December 15, 2015

Even I’m starting to get tired of these Republican debates. I can’t stand the politicians and their political speak, and I definitely despise all the back-and-forth on who submitted this Senate bill and what it does and how who voted against said bill. It’s just total nonsense and makes my eyes roll into the back of my head.

That being said, folks who visit this site demand the unfiltered (and, I might add, always correct) political commentary I offer. I haven’t been wrong yet, so here it goes:

Helped: Donald Trump, Chris Christie, Marco Rubio, Rand Paul.

The big story of the night is Trump’s commitment to the GOP, win or lose. It doesn’t surprise me – heck, he’ll just go back to being a billionaire if he doesn’t get the nomination – but I’m guessing this was all planned out from the start. Christie did OK as tough against terrorism. Rubio is OK – to me he comes across as a little too cute, but he obviously knows his stuff, and for mainstream conservatives he’s a heckuva lot more likeable and personable than Ted Cruz, who is really starting to annoy me. Paul stood up for his libertarian beliefs and, while his campaign is dead in the water, I enjoyed hearing his viewpoint.

No Impact: Carly Fiorina, John Kasich.

I’ll admit that while I was once impressed by Fiorina I’ve tuned her out – all she does is play the female “me vs. Hillary” card and it doesn’t impress me. And I don’t care that she was CEO of a big company – you can’t compare the decisions you made at HP with the ones you’d have to make in the Oval Office. Although, if I’m Donald Trump, she’s worth at least a consideration as his attack dog VP if only to drive the Hillarybots out there crazy. As for Kasich, he’s like the crazy uncle you keep in the attic. I used to like him as a FOX News show host, but he’s become a caricature of himself. Considering he was a nowhere man before the debate, he’s still there, so he didn’t hurt himself.

Losers: Ted Cruz, Jeb Bush, Ben Carson

Ted Cruz loses because he just wouldn’t shut up. Ted, when the bell goes ring-adding-ding wrap it up! Look, I’ve tried to like the guy, but there’s something about him that just annoys the hell out of me. Tonight he came across as rude and condescending to just about everyone and everything. Not sure what he was selling at the debate but it wasn’t flattering. Jeb! Bush was a joke. He couldn’t even give his closing talk without falling all over his words. The beating he took by Trump has to hurt: he’s spent hundreds of millions of PAC money and he’s moving further away from the center of the stage. Say goodnight, Jeb. As for Carson, I have no clue as to what he was talking about and he seemed asleep half the time.

Regardless of how the phony elites in the mainstream media try to sway it, the takeaway from this debate is that Trump, by way of once again holding his own, is the winner when the dust settles. How it translates to Iowa and New Hampshire in another month or two is anyone’s guess.

Believe it or not, here’s a picture of the “official” Jeb Bush debate watching party. Say goodnight, Jeb.

Filed in: Politics & World Events by The Great White Shank at 23:39 | Comments (3)
December 13, 2015

I’ve been back from Vegas for only a little over four days, and with all the happenings around here since then it already seems like months ago, almost as if it were a dream. The great thing about a trip to Vegas is that you look forward to it, then there’s the immediate run up filled with anticipation. Once you’re there you’re on sensory overload for the duration as you allow yourself to be immersed in the state of unreality that Vegas is so good at providing, until three nights in you’re tired from the late nights and the onslaught upon your wallet, and you’re looking forward to getting the hell out of there while you still have the shirt on your back. Then there’s the mixture of melancholy and relief the night before you leave. Then, three or four days later, you’re already looking forward to doing it all over again.

At least that’s the way it is for me.

A week ago I was in the immersion stage and enjoying every minute of it. My first night there I stayed at Wynn Las Vegas and was glad I took advantage of their offer to put me in what they call a “panorama suite” on the 49th floor, not overlooking the Strip, but over the golf course and the Valley itself. To fall asleep with the curtains fully open and displaying a gazillion lights working their way towards the mountains was truly breathtaking. I actually found myself awake at around 4 AM and had a hard time falling back asleep after pinching myself to see if it was all a dream.

I had arrived there late Saturday afternoon and, after resolving some issues at work (see below), proceeded almost immediately to my favorite spot in all of Vegas – the bar at Wynn’s Parasol Up. At any time of the year it is always warm, cozy, and inviting, but for the Christmas season the backdrop outside featured lights and effects against the late December afternoon light to make you think there was a major blizzard underway with heavy snow falling and blowing around. Perhaps it was the Veuve Cliquot I ordered, but I thought it was magical, and it was my favorite memory of the weekend.

After an enjoyable dinner at La Cave, an hour spent at McCarron Airport’s Terminal 3 waiting for fellow Goodboy “Killer” Kowalski’s flight to arrive was an incredibly depressing experience. Whatever happened to Vegas 24/7? Perhaps that’s still the case at Terminal 1, but I can attest to the fact that at Terminal 3 on a late Saturday night there was nothing to do except listen to bad contemporary Christmas music and look at the lonely Christmas trees stationed along the concourse without any sense of joy or purpose. Had I not kept assuring myself that cocktails at Parasol Up awaited once Killer landed I’m not sure what I would have done!

Along those same lines, one of the sounds I really didn’t enjoy hearing was my phone buzzing with calls from work, which, frankly, didn’t stop from Saturday afternoon when I left Phoenix until Sunday noon before Killer and I teed off at Primm Valley’s Desert Course. The bar at Primm makes one of the best Bloody Marys you’ll ever have along with a breakfast that’s not only good but reasonably priced as well. Killer and I played with a Hawaiian guy who, playing to a 5-handicap, was as good a player as I’ve ever played with and an incredibly nice guy to boot.

One of the fun things about spending time in Vegas before the Christmas / New Year holidays is seeing how all the hotels and casinos decorate for the season. My favorite was at The Venetian, where one of the settings was a massive silver Christmas tree framed by red columns with neon blue icicle lights falling, twirling, then darting upwards to start the progression all over again. I thought it was really cool.

Of course, it wouldn’t be Vegas without the occasional dope (or dopes) that bring you back to reality. Last visit it was a group of Iranians busting up a $5K candelabra at one of The Venetian’s casino bars; this year it was a guy who showed up at Aria’s Lobby Bar with beer in hand and proceeded to start hurling his guts out all over the floor. The poor bartender didn’t know what to do – he kept begging the guy to leave but the guy just stood there and kept vomiting. Finally, one of the waitresses got him to leave before security arrived. No one seemed happy afterwards at the half-hearted attempt by the poor maintenance guy to make it all go away with copious amounts of kitty litter. We who observed the proceedings could only hope that once the bar closed for the night the entire area got a thorough cleaning and disinfecting by the professionals.

I have to admit I wasn’t much into the Christmas spirit, but between cocktails at Parasol Up and dinner at Buddy V’s Ristorante at The Venetian I finally got in a little bit of a mood. Between the decorations, the company, the live music, and the fabulous food (including a 60th birthday cannoli!), it was a night to remember.

One of the sad things about our visit was seeing just how far the former Treasure Island, now “TI”, has fallen. While never crazy about the place to begin with (I preferred its sister property The Mirage, but that was back during its golden era which is no more, but that’s another story for another time), Killer was staying at TI so of course I had to go in and take a look. TI’s walkways around the casino, always narrow to begin with, were made even more claustrophobic by all these cowboys attending the Vegas rodeo wearing huge Stetsons. Cowboy chic is not exactly my kind of thing to begin with, but frankly I thought these guys all looked like clowns. And the carpeting up on TI’s hotel floors was filthy, which is really unacceptable. Kind of sad to see, but considering the service we had received a few years ago when we stayed there to save money, I wasn’t surprised.

Overall, it was a great visit. If you can’t have a good time while staying in Vegas you need to get your happiness index checked. Like I say, with all the stuff going on here since I returned (I’ll post on that in the next day or so) it all seems like a dream and I wish I was back there. But that’s what makes Vegas so great to begin with.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 22:35 | Comments (2)
December 11, 2015

I’ll have a follow-up post on my Las Vegas trip in the next post but wanted to post a few thoughts before the end of crazy work week (even with the days off):

I’m not much into the Christmas spirit, but if anyone’s music can put me in the spirit it’s Frank Sinatra. So I hope you enjoy Mark Steyn’s post about one of Frank’s Christmas classics.

Like I’m guessing most ordinary Americans (and unlike the absolute hysteria expressed by the mainstream media and everyone within the New York / Washington political elite on both sides of the political aisle) Donald Trump’s recent comments about putting a hold on all Muslim immigration bothers me not a whit. As Steyn himself writes:

This is why the public is not joining the media, the Democrats and the GOP establishment in getting the vapors over Donald Trump’s comments about Muslim immigration. The men pulling the triggers in Paris and San Bernardino are men with French, Belgian and US passports, but they are not “French”, “Belgian” or “American” in any meaningful sense. They regard their primary identity as Muslim – and their citizenship as a mere travel document. So it doesn’t require a large leap to wonder whether Islam is, in fact, an issue.

Instead, media commentators are arguing that the fact that all these “28-year-old California men” and “23-year-old Strasbourg men” are going bananas demonstrates that there’s nothing to fear from all these zillions of “Syrian” “refugees”. These “Syrians” are harmless. The real loonies are all these “homegrown” Americans and Europeans. Our cities would be a lot safer if we had more Syrians and fewer Americans and Europeans.

As I said to Sean Hannity on Monday night, one reason why Trump’s “outrageous” remarks never dent his numbers a whit is because to significant numbers of people he sounds far less insane than the mainstream consensus – now insisting that all these psycho “American” and “European” terrorists demonstrate why we’d be much better off letting in millions of “refugees”.

Indeed.

As I mentioned to my Goodboys friend Ben during a lengthy and boisterous political discussion while walking down The Strip, I’m at the point – as a lot of Donald Trump supporters are – where I really don’t care what Trump says anymore. The fact that the GOP establishment is in bed with the Democrats (and they’re doing more than just sleeping with the enemy, if you ask me) only makes me want to vote for him more. You see, I want to see the GOP and its establishment destroyed. The fact that I can get a flyer in the mail advertising a gathering featuring John McCain and Mitt Romney as “true conservatives” tells me all I need to know about today’s Republican Party. Back in the day if you lost a presidential election you were kryptonite as to Superman; today it’s now a virtual badge of honor. Like I say, burn it to the ground.

Personally, I knew Wade Miley was going to be gone as soon as he had that vocal altercation with Red Sox manager John Farrell after being pulled out of a game this past season. You can’t show up a manager and expect to be kept around. Hence, he’s now a Seattle Mariner.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 02:55 | Comments Off on TGIF
December 9, 2015

This is The Great White Shank, reporting from Viva Las Vegas. A little sleep deprived, perhaps, but that’s Viva Las Vegas for ya, baby! The last night in Vegas is always a combination of melancholy and relief – melancholy that your stay is about to end, relief that you’re stay is about to end.

Me and my Goodboys friends have had a great time here, and the decorations all over the casinos have put me in a little bit of a holiday spirit. The weather has been beautiful, and my golf game, thought not exactly where I want it to be, is really coming along. Our stay here at Aria, while not exactly Wynn, has nevertheless been worth the price of admission. It’s been great to just get away from everything, which is what Las Vegas has always been, and will always be, about. Tomorrow it will be back to the Valley of the Sun and the real world. Time to start getting a car and taking the Christmas season a little more seriously.

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 01:21 | Comment (1)
December 6, 2015

Sorry for the dearth of postings this week – between car issues and a heavy work workload the days just all ran together. So it’s no surprise that my trip to Las Vegas comes just at the right time. We’ll be back on Thursday, so in between here are a few nuggets worth offering up for consideration:

For the Red Sox and David Price, the price was exactly right. Did the Sox overpay? Of course they did. Would it have been better to have signed Jon Lester to a long-term deal when they had the chance? Of course. But, as they say, “it is what it is”, and the Sox have had a great off-season so far in shoring up the front and back of their pitching staff.

It will be sad to see David “Big Papi” Ortiz go at the end of the 2016 season but I respect athletes who like the idea of going out on top. And with Ortiz departing after 2016, might that mean there’s a place on the team for Hanley Ramirez as DH starting in 2017.

I don’t know any other way to say it: you really have to wonder about Barack Obama’s mental health. the guy is totally and completely off his rocker. If the GOP had any guts they would start impeachment hearings against him for blatant incompetence and dereliction of duty as Commander in Chief. Thank God we’ve only got a little more than a year left in his term but one can only imagine what kind of damage this ignoramus and his Attorney General plan on doing in the meantime.

By this time next year I have four goals in mind: 1) to still be employed, 2) to vote for Donald Trump in Arizona’s primary and (I hope) general election, 3) to have my concealed carry permit and a firearm at my side whenever I’m out and about here in Arizona, and 4) get myself down to somewhere in the neighborhood of a 24 handicap. Will it all happen? Who knows. But it’s good to have goals as the year starts rolling into a new one.

After all, this country is in the best of hands.

Maybe these guys were just looking to commit some workplace violence. They can’t be Islamic radicals, right?

See y’all on Thursday. In the meantime, enjoy!

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 01:05 | Comments (2)
December 4, 2015

I was going to say the Democrats, but courtesy of my brother Dave:

I mean, how else do you explain this? And absolute moronic twits like this? And a vile, ignorant Attorney General who says things like this? The Obama administration (and the Democrats in general) are no longer just clueless idiots, their incompetence and radical ideology are turning them into enemies of the state.

Strong words, I know. But it’s not hard to see that this country is on edge in a way I could never have imagined. You have a political establishment solely concerned with consolidating and expanding its power while trillions of dollars of debt are piled up. You have the Obama administration seeking to flood this country with hundreds of thousands of Muslim refugees without any kind of serious vetting while it considers global warming to be the greater imminent threat. And President Obama has already let it be known that his final year in office is going to be about gun control (and, without saying, confiscating guns from as many law-abiding people as possible). And there is going to be trouble – in a big way.

In my wildest imagination I could never have conceived a new civil war breaking out in the United States but I have to tell you I can see it coming, and the only thing Americans can do is arm themselves. In the absence of a president and a political establishment committed to defending and protecting this country it appears we’re all going to have to gang together and do it ourselves. I’m the last person who ever thought about getting a gun but it’s numero uno on my list come 2016.

I fear for this country and what is in store for it in 2016. Thank God we have Jeb Bush running for president to save us. 🙂

Filed in: Politics & World Events by The Great White Shank at 22:43 | Comments Off on Liberalism Is Going To Get Us All Killed

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