On Yoga Pants...

You'll recall a guy named Ralph Waldo Thoreau, don't you?  I think he wrote a book or a poem or something called "On Golden Pond."  Well, I don't recall ever seeing a golden pond, but I do kind of like the title.  So I'm going to appropriate some of it for the unassuming little blog posting to follow.  Not the exact title, mind you, just the basic format.  Got it?  Knew you would.  And so, without further ado, or a'don't, my essay:

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The approximate percentage of women and girls wearing yoga pants these days is 100.  As in, 100%.  All.  Every woman and girl in America wears yoga pants.  I know.  I pay attention to these things.  Yet, I don't really know how to say this...without saying this...so I'm going to say this.  Some women, and some girls, should NOT wear yoga pants.  There.  I said it.  

Oh.  You want me to elucidate?  To further describe?  Which is what elucidate means?  Okay, I shall.  I saw a woman today walking in front of me at the post office, wearing yoga pants, and it looked for all the world like two pigs fighting in a gunny sack.  Like your classic blivet.  Don't know what a blivet is?  It's two pounds of s**t in a one pound bag.  Like two bowling balls at war with each inside a gauzy layer of Spandex.  The mere act of walking caused the barely-restrained, overstuffed masses of protoplasm to crash back and forth against each other to an almost painful degree.  I'm pretty sure you could follow this woman, step by step, at CalTech's earthquake labs.  I recall thinking how happy I was she was dressed; the only thing worse would have been for her to remove her yoga pants and go bare-assed.  And the only thing worse for me is if she had...

I'd say that only about 34% of our women and girls should wear yoga pants.  And I'm being generous.  It's really probably more like 20%, but hey...I'm just that kind of guy.  But the rest?  Ummmmm, no.  Similarly, not more than about 20% truly display the kind of physical attributes necessary for a yoga pant display.  The remainder in the middle neither attract the eyeballs, nor do they repulse them.  They're more or less invisible, which is probably not what the wearer is expecting.  And praying for.  

Yoga pants make be as comfortable as all get out, but please, ladies, be considerate!  Your pants may make your ass feel good but they may make my eyes feel bad!  There actually should be a law preventing morbidly obese women and girls from torturing our eyes by wearing yoga pants.  Misdemeanor, not felony.  A  $1,000 fine should do.  And then redistribute the earnings from those fines to buy us all sun glasses.  

Or blinders...

You can even hear them coming.  A percentage of the women and girls exercising their Constitutional Rights by wearing yoga pants have thighs so massive (how massive are they?) they rudely rub Spandex back and forth together, making the most unpleasant sound.  They cannot...not.  A sound that precedes the wearer, sort of a "squish-squish," like sandpaper on silk, barely giving us the notice we'll need to escape the immediate vicinity.   I guess in retrospect they're doing us a favor.  Sort of like a siren.  Get out of the way!  Thanks, I think.

Anyway, my spleen is thus vented on the subject of yoga pants.  I only like them on super models, or on women who will go out with me.  I'm sort of flexible like that...    

A Magic Trick

So San Fran Nan Pelosi finally delivered the 2nd Articles of Impeachment on ex-POTUS Trump to Mitch McConnell over at the Senate.  

That means, if you were paying attention in high school civics class, the Senate must now drop everything, macht schell, which is German for superfast, as per the Constitution, and immediately begin (ex-)President Donald J. Trump's trial.  To remove Trump from orifice.  Immediately.  The orifice from which he's already left.  As in, "bye-bye."  Gone.  Mitch is reported to have set aside two weeks in February for the trial.  Two weeks.  Two weeks in the future.  Two weeks to remove a man who has already...been removed.  By the Constitution.  Because his term of office ended.  Three months previously.  I can't imagine why such a trial, if they feel they just have to have one, should take much more than an hour or two for the following simple reasons:

1.  Trump is no longer there.  Hello!  Hasn't anybody noticed?  Word has it he was playing golf at Mar-a-Lago yesterday, so I would think he's no longer much of a danger to San Fran Nan and her fellow Swamp dwellers back there in D.C. 

2.  There is no evidence.  The entire nation watched Trump's speech on TV, and nothing in it could be construed as having fomented insurrection ("We're going to walk down to the Capitol... I know that everyone here will peaceably and patriotically have your voices heard!").  Plus, the "attack" on the Capitol started before Trump's speech even ended.  And we know that it was pre-planned by anarchists on both YouTube and Facebook (not Parler!).  In fact, the Capitol Police just reported to Congress that they had hard information, in hand, on January 4th, that an assault on the Capitol Building was planned for the 6th.  Two days prior.  Was Trump an ass for having a hand in orchestrating this fustercluck?  For having issued an invitation to a million of his closest friends to join him on the Capitol Mall that day?  Hmmm, yes.  But fomenting insurrection?  No.  

So if you'll pardon the tired old cliche, it seems that Nan is once again attempting to close the old barn door after the the equine has left.  Old Nelly done gone!  The horse is nowhere in sight.  However, if she can make a man go who's already left, then perhaps there's no limit to what she can do in terms of revisionist history.  If so, here are a few things she might want to use her new-found powers to "fix," after-the-fact: 

1.     If you can undo something that's already done, Madame Speaker, like removing The Donald after he's already gone, then how about removing the iceberg from the path of the Titanic before it steams past?  No iceberg, no crash.  No crash, no wreck, no 1,500 people dead.  Good plan?

2.     If we can remove a long-gone Prezzz, why not fix that pesky seal on the Challenger space shuttle before it blasts off?

3.     Keep the Lusitania in port, Madame Nan.  No torpedo, no problem...

4.     Hey, Ms. $13-a-pint-ice-cream, why not let Mr. Lindberg know that leaving his baby at home alone that day isn't such a good idea? 

5.     General Custer maybe should now be given an opportunity to select a different place to patrol for that fateful day, doncha' think? 

6.     Hey, and speaking of Native Americans, Nan, how about we let those Indigenous Personages hang out somewhere other than at Wounded Knee?

7.     Do not ever sell O.J. a hunting knife!  Not a single one!  Not ever!

8.     And tell San Fran Nan to revoke James Dean's driver's license, while she's at it.

9.     You like abortions so much, Nan?  Demand Adolph's mom get one in advance of all that unpleasantness.      

10.   Memo to JFK:  The weather in Dallas will not be favorable for a visit anytime soon (hey, if she can revise history, why not revise the weather?).  

11.   Make it sort of important to require those learning to fly passenger jets to also learn how to land them... 

12.   Dear Herr Doctor Zepplin:  Find another gas besides hydrogen...

12.   And finally, Madame Speaker, send a note to good ol' Pharoah to let His people go...

That's all the help I'm going to offer to Nan and the Democrats right now.  Maybe more later, but that's all for now.  The tank of my helpfulness gene is hereby depleted.  In the meantime, we'll all just hide in the bushes and watch as these bozos take their new majority and throw up all over themselves in front of God and the entire world...

"Loping the Mule..."

I read somewhere that masturbating too much can make one squint.

And we know that must be true, as they used to tell us that too much "loping the mule" can make you go blind.  Playboy tried its best to poke holes in that theory way back when, but it still persists in some quarters.  Unfortunately.

But some of us may not have given up the habit.  Some of us may not have learned that "flogging the doggie" too much is not a good idea.  Although a rite of passage for our yout (what's a yout?), most of us grow out of routinely "yanking the wanger" or "whipping the whippet" by the attainment of our young adulthood.  We usually find another way to reduce those raging hormones other than too much "manipulating the unit" or "choking the chicken."  

"Another way," get it?  I knew you would.

But some of us may still be "taking the lizard out for a walk."  Some of us may still be "shaking hands with the milkman" and have not yet seen fit to grow out of this activity, I'm sorry to say.  Some still engage in "manual override" and "lone rangering" instead of the more excepted pursuits.  

Yes, some of us are still "paddling the pink canoe," as they say.  "Going out with Rosie Palm and her four daughters,"  they are.  Fellow Pilgrims, It's obvious to me that some of us may not in fact have stopped "spanking the monkey" quite as much as they should have.  However, I think I read somewhere that even reduced "monkey-spanking" can still leave residual physical evidence.  Physical evidence of increased "squinting."  As in eyes narrowed down to just a mere slit.  As in almost can't see through them.  Want some proof?

Did you ever wonder what good ol' Joe was doing in his basement for all of 2020?  Have you watched any of his speeches lately?   

There is But One...

(BTW, and that means "by the way," for those who are unaware, The Chuckmeister, famed author, lecturer, wino, Big Game Hunter, journeyman welder, transgender- and Black-identifier and all-around Nice Guy,  will opine on any subject, at anytime, for any reason.  Even, one should know, on topics about which he has absolutely no knowledge whatsoever.  However, every now and then a subject comes over the transom about which He knows pretty much everything.  This is one such subject.  And the information it conveys should scare the crap out of you...)

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Two factoids you should know:

1.     Since 2006, Mexican drug cartels have killed more than 160,000 of their own citizens.

2.     There is but one, single, solitary gun store in the entire country of Mexico, and it's located inside the Main Police Station in beautiful downtown Mexico City.

Ahem...    

This location is not conducive either to those citizens located hundreds, or even thousands of miles away, or those who would rather not have to interact with the gendarmes when buying a weapon they may have to use to protect themselves...against the gendarmes.

Ergo, Mexico is pretty much unarmed.  Except for the drug cartels, of course, which are better armed than Mexico's military.  It seems you can buy all the guns you want when you have a few $Billion in cash.  And the above referenced murder statistics tend to indicate that fact.  One has to wonder, I would think, whether that statistic would differ were a significant percentage of Mexico's population armed.  

Like in America.  Where more than one-third of our population owns some 450 million guns.  And 1 in 20 are carrying concealed.  These statistics happen not to be conducive to the mass murder of innocent civilians by armed thugs as it's been in Mexico for the past couple of decades.  Fortunately.

Then Admiral Yamamoto, Commander of Japan's WW2 navy, when asked why his country didn't invade America when it had the chance, stated, "Behind every blade of grass there is an American with a rifle."  What he said...

I think a reasonable person, even one who favors more stringent gun control laws, has to concede that a disarmed America could become the newest Mexico.  I trust the weenies now in charge in Foggy Bottom will consider these facts when drafting their new anti-gun legislation.  Which they're sure to do.  And since they have proven themselves to know absolutely nothing about guns, such negotiations will most like occur in a bar.  In Georgetown.  On a Saturday night.  Late...

Oh yeah, as I head out the "Digital Door," please allow me to highlight the fact that Chicago also has but one. single. gun. store.  And it's located inside the Main Police Station in Downtown Chicago.  I kid thee not.  And it's only open on Thursdays between 10:00 and 2:00.  Which no doubt makes it readily available to those hard-working Chicagoans wishing to afford themselves of their 2nd Amendment Rights...

And it's also made Chicago the Mexico of the United States...

Cause and Effect...

I think I've been exercising too much.

Yeah, that's it.  Waaaay too much!  I'm thinking that's where all those aches and pains are coming from.  I didn't used to have them when I was younger, and I didn't used to exercise so much.  So...VOILA!...putting two and two together, I must be exercising too much!

Cause and effect, doncha' know.

Occam's Razor tells us that.  The simplest explanation for a problem is almost always the correct one.  And trust me, a simple person arrived at the answer to this problem.

Who was Occam?  Not sure.  But he had a razor, and we're all thankful for that...

No, fellow Patriots, I read somewhere this morning that many of us are exercising too strenuously and need to back up a bit.  Especially our most seasoned citizens, which in this "day and age" of Identity Politics, includes "moi."  So I'm backing up on the leg lifts and the crunches and the sit ups and the bench presses a little bit.  Well, actually more than a little.  So far back they no longer exist.  Different zip code, do you hear me? 

I mean, think about it:  How do we know for sure there's not an absolute maximum number of leg lifts authorized to each of us by God?  And if we were to reach that Magic Number, somehow, our legs just wouldn't lift anymore?  And then where would we be?  I ask you, fellow health enthusiast, fellow gym rat, where would be we be?  Hmmmmm?  

Hadn't thought about that before, now had you?  

So, discretion being the better part of valor (I wish I'd come up with that saying!), I've decided to reorder my work-out routine considerably.  I'll now consider other activities previously not included in my workout routine, such as getting up and going to the bathroom in the middle of the night to take a pee, as "working out."  Tough to pull a muscle taking a pee, even though my doctor told me not to lift anything heavy.

Ahem.  

Cause and effect, doncha' know.

Taking out the trash around The Chuckmeister's expansive abode shall also henceforth be called "working out."  So, I'll now be adding the taking-out-of-trash as a part of my workout routine.  There's a lot of bending and stooping and carrying associated with taking out the trash.  So there's that.  And cooking?  Yes, cooking can also be strenuous, doncha' know.  You could hurt yourselves cooking!  And so cooking is up there with curls and deep knee bends (deep knee bends?  Are you kidding me?).  So cooking's "working out" from now on. 

"Two eggs over easy, sausage, bicep curls, hash browns, sit-ups..."  I mean, that 12" skillet is hev-veee! 

And what about shopping?  One must go grocery shopping at least weekly for necessary provisions, like coffee, flour, bacon and beans, and that involves a lot of lifting and bagging.  Which can be considered exercise if you loosen up the definition just a little.  Which is why God put me here today; to loosen up the definition a little bit.  For my seasoned friends and neighbors.

Cause and effect.

And also to let you know there's that direct "cause and effect" thing they tell us is now going on.  If you're doing something and something results, even if totally unrelated to the original "something," then you're hereby authorized by me, The Chuckmeister, to connect their dots to that other something.  You can then therefore cease doing that something with the hope that the other something...will stop.

If you understood that, get back to me.

Hey there, fellow Pilgrims, you now have authority to redefine your workout routine to fit your lifestyle.  No more Peloton for you?  How about a "pillow, son?," instead?  Heh, heh!  That was a little joke there.  Anyhoo, no more getting up early to do something you don't want to do.  How about getting up late and simply redefining some of your normal daily activities as exercise?  The net result will be a happier you and you'll have an extra hour back in your day.

Oh, the aches and pains will still be there, unfortunately, but you won't need to shower quite as often...   

The Sinus Rythym of Politics.

Eleven years ago, almost to the day, one B. Hussein Obama was immaculated to the Presidency of these here United States.

And he immediately set about undoing  Every. Single. Thing. that President George W. Bush had put into place during his 8 years in office.  He could do so because of Article One, Section II, Paragraph I of the Constitution of the United States.  This bunch of verbiage gives our POTUS not only the right, but the obligation, to make pronouncements carrying the force of law via Executive Orders (E.O.'s).  

The POTUS, you see, has his hand on America's tiller, so he might see stuff happening quicker than the Congress could adequately respond.  Quick enough so that he might have to make snap decisions; decisions in the form of Executive Orders covering damn near anything under the Sun without having to wait for actual laws to be passed.  He can order us around as if we're his serfs via these Orders unless his orders are deemed unconstitutional by some judge somewhere or the Congress sees fit to tell him "No!"  

And the Congress has proven itself almost completely unwilling to engage in these fights over rights of late.  As a matter of fact, the Congress has been offloading its authority to the Executive little by little over the past couple few decades.  Maybe just letting the Prezzz make up his own laws is quicker, easier and simpler than doing the actual work of governing.  Governing is work, after all, and many of our most recent electees are proving themselves allergic to work.  And permitting the POTUS to act as if he was Emperor also enables them to sidestep most all responsibility for his actions.  

So a new POTUS comes in and immediately writes a bunch of E.O.'s.  E.O.'s reversing the E.O.'s of his predecessor.  Just like Trump did to Obama when he arrived at the Orval Orifice.  And just like O'Biden will do this morning when he moves out of his basement and heads off to D.C.  The "sinus rhythm of American Politics," I call it.  Just like the wave on that green-screened machine in the ICU you've seen so often, it goes up...and then down...and then back up.  Up and down.  Up and down.  It's enough to make one dizzy!  Trump voided Obama's E.O.'s, and O'Biden is reported to be planning to void not less than 13 of Trump's E.O's today.  And the Congress will sit back, on its hands, and watch.

Yep, fellow Pilgrims, by the end of the day POTUS O'Biden will have issued E.O.'s thwarting continued construction on our southern border wall, for which funding has already been established; he'll proclaim our previously-illegal DACA residents to be pre-citizens, giving them an 8-year pathway to citizenship; he'll stomp the brakes on the XL-Pipeline, creating a serious legal rift between us and Canada, eliminating more than 8,000 highly-paid union jobs, irritating various Indian tribes who enjoy the income from this drilling, and once again returning America to energy dependence; and he'll halt Trump's immigration holds on populations from various dangerous places.    

So O'Biden becomes POTUS.  And he'll issue a flurry of E.O.'s eliminating Trump's entire history.  Or so much of it as he is able.  Like a Presidential magic act.  Sort of like incoming Pharoahs back in Egypt's Middle Kingdom had their serfs scrub predecessor's "cartouches," or signatures, off all the monuments when they arrived.  Only those laws passed by Congress on Trump's watch will be safe; all the other "laws," i.e., E.O.s, will be erased.  All the rules and regulations that Trump eliminated will be restored.  It will be like Obama was back in town.  

For if regulative overreach is the yardstick, he will be.

Maybe this whipsawing of the American People back and forth is actually a good idea.  Maybe they need a harsh dose of reality to force intrusion into their cushy, cell phone-attached lives.  Maybe those who get their news via Yahoo or Google need to learn exactly what they just voted away.  For like the guy once said, "Democracy is the belief that the voting public know what it wants, and deserves to get it good and hard!"  They voted for a different sort of small-"d" democracy than they've been privy to during the past four.   And my guess is, even if they didn't feel the harsh touch of Big Government into their puny lives during Trump's term, they certainly will during O'Biden's.

like the guy said, "...good and hard!"  

Who Knew?

 Who knew that you could impeach a President in one day?

I mean, 

ONE DAY?  

Really?

I thought impeachment was like a Big Deal, or something.  I seem to recall being taught in civics class back in high school that impeaching a President was like a last gasp effort they'd use to fix stuff, and that it's a full-bore trial, with lawyers and people like those, with witnesses and opening statements and a stenographer and everything!  

This one  Was.  Not.  Like.  That.

San Fran Nan Pelosi, Speaker of the House of Representatives, a body which used to be filled with extra-special, well-educated accomplished people, sent there to represent their constituents interests, which is no longer true, has been pissed at The Donald since he called her a "Third Rate Politician."  And tearing up his State of the Union speech just wasn't enough payback for her, so she just had to impeach him again. 

No, not nearly enough. 

The first one was over a phone call The Donald placed to Ukraine.  Nancy didn't like the content of that phone call so she impeached him.  She can do that, it appears, being Speaker and all.  Actually, it had nothing to do with a phone call.  She was just looking for any opportunity to bury him.  Six feet under.  It failed, of course, which was pre-ordained, but hey, The Donald has a couple of days left in office now, so hey, why not impeach him again?  And since there's no chance he'd be convicted, even if he had the lawyers and the witnesses and the stenographer and stuff, she thought, what the Hell, why not an instant replay?

And if another one's good, why not another one?  

Good idea, Nan.  And, since there was no chance of convicting, why even address the niceties of lawyers and witnesses and such.  Why not just so straight forward from reading the charges to, ...HELLO!... a vote.  And if you get more votes than the sane people on the other side of the aisle, then you win!  And The Donald is impeached!  Again!

Hoooorayyyyyyyy!

Damn, that was easy!  And hey, if it was that easy, why not do it again?  The Donald has a few days left in orifice, and he can't do anything in terms of retaliation, and he can't even complain to his followers since he's been yanked off every social media platform by the Lefties that run them, completely silenced, so why not kick him when he's down and make him the very first POTUS to have been impeached for nothing, a THIRD TIME!  Yeah, why not?

So I'm suggesting that San Fran Nan go ahead and impeach The Donald yet a Third Time.  The blow-dried talking head commies at MSPMS and the Clinton News Network will have an organism over the all-day proceedings.  They will cover it breathlessly, just as though it was actual, real news.  Hey, why not?

And since they've gotten so good at it by now, they can probably complete the next one in a couple of hours or less!

Oh yeah, and by the way, you know that part up there in a preceding paragraph when I said there was nothing The Donald could do to protect himself or his reputation if Nan decided to pull the trigger once again?  I might mention that he can't, but he has 74 million voters who feel deeply screwed, and that one of them just might...

You'd have to be either really confidant in your security team's ability to protect you, or totally convinced that ALL of Trump's voters, every single one of them, will be willing to just take it on the chin one more time, like good sheeple.  If she really felt that way, then I'd have to ask just why every single one of our state capitols are on complete and total lockdown for the inauguration right now?  Just why more than 27,000 cops are currently patrolling Washington, D.C.?  It's never happened before, but it just might happen again.  And to reiterate, if we don't immediately stop this effort to silence and humble Trump's voters, and make them submit, then America is an idea whose time has come...and gone.

I dunno' about you, but if I was going to piss off a few folks, I surely wouldn't want to piss off a few already pissed off - and armed - Trump voters...

Finally!

I've been in the closet so long I'm beginning to smell like moth balls!

Yes, fellow Patriots, I've been one of those closet "Progressives" just waiting for the chance to finally shed my cloak of faux-Conservatism and embrace the promise of socialism!

Yes, it's finally time to admit that we were wrong; that fiscal Conservatism and prudence in matters of laws and regulations and taxation designed to thwart the reach of Big Gummint is an idea whose time has come...and gone.

I mean, hey!  What's so bad about Venezuela, anyhow?  Zoo animals taste good, don't they?

No, friends and neighbors, we must now embrace reality.  We must now come to the realization that a crusty old geek who's been around longer than the Flood with questionable mental acuity and his hand in China's pocket will soon be inaugurated as our 46th President of these here United States.  A guy who's been in D.C. for more than 47 years doing nothing but taking up space.  But now my fellow Lefties-in-waiting have chosen to make him their Fearless Leader, and so shall I.  

Welcome Joe!  Welcome!

And so I also heartedly welcome his #2, Mz. Kamala Harris, our very first Southeast Asian/Dominican elected to that orifice.  And in our new "Identity Politics-dominated" culture, that stuff is very important.  She'll be our 47th President of the United States by this fall, I'm guessing, so I don't want to say anything bad about her.  No, nothing at all, especially since she's promised to come and personally take our guns, and I have quite a few as everyone knows, so I don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to myself here.  Joe will no doubt be found puttering around the Rose Garden, mumbling incoherently to himself, and she'll "25th" his bony butt right into the rearview mirror.  And then, look out!

Yes, my friends, I've always believed that screwing the rich is a good fiscal plan.  That trying to peel them like a grape so you can give their money to lackeys who refuse to work, is what the Founding Fathers truly wanted.  However, those lackeys need to vote Democrat to keep the gravy train rolling.  Otherwise we might fall back into fiscal Conservatism.  Where we spend no more than we take in and stay out of peoples' pockets and their wallets and their homes and their bedrooms and their churches.  And where we once again consider the Constitution the Law of the Land.  That outdated old document?  Can't have that, no way.  No way, Jose.  

Or Jose B, even.

So don't look my way when you're looking to purge Conservatives.  I'm one of those guys who's bailed off Trump's sinking ship, hopefully in time to avoid "the Purge."  Don't look my way during your putsch of those who disagree with your rules and regulations and policies and procedures.  Just bypass me when you launch your own "Kristallnacht."  And no, I don't need a stint in a re-education camp to reprogram me away from duty and honor and country.  Screw that stuff!  I'm even returning my Eagle Scout badge!

Simply lay back, watch Jerry Springer reruns, eat bon bons and suck down Pabst Blue Ribbon while you wait for your Gummint largesse to roll in over the transom.  There's more of us then there are of them now, finally, so we can use our majority to crush them.  To make sure they never, ever rise again.  And impeaching The Donald once again will insure that.  Yeah.  Impeach him again.  And again!  We just learned impeachment only takes one day, so do it over and over until you feel vindicated.  His followers surely won't mind...

So yeah, I'm now a full-bore "Progressive."  I'm on your side.  And I also identify as Black, just in case you're planning to hand out some of that "White People Money" in reparations.  And gay too.  Gay people need some reparations.  And anything else I need to be to deflect liberal ire and attract liberal largesse.  

Yep, feels good to shed the mantel of Conservative responsibility and don the cloak of liberal lunacy.  Matter of fact, I think it's time to go out and buy a new car.  O'Biden and his Gang of Sycophants will be handing out stimulus checks by the millions, so I'll finally be able to afford one.  And since I'll be using some Rich/White/Old People Money to pay for it, and so could you, who's gonna' join me?  

A Devilish Little Plan...

Along with you, I've believed for some time that our Boy Guv, one Gavin Newsom, is stark raving nuts.  He'd have to be to have said and done the things he's said and done over the past year or so, as his comments have gone a long way toward destroying the once-Golden State.  Which was obviously his goal.  Or maybe he's just a common, ordinary, sleezy, slimy, nasty, machine politician from a filthy rich family with tons of money and great hair.  However, some of us, myself not included, thought that perhaps Boy Guv was playing chess while the rest of us were playing checkers...

But maybe I was wrong.  Maybe Boy Guv had hatched a nefarious little plan not to just order our millions and millions and millions of illegal aliens to go back where they came from, but rather to give them an impetus to want to leave all on their lonesome!  What a Macccheeaveleean little plan!  Turn California from the Mad Max hellhole that it is rapidly becoming (have you been to Union Square lately?  Downtown L.A.?), into the vibrant, shiny, green, glowing Land of Opportunity it was before Democrat politicians began outsourcing our jobs and our money and our future.  And all we have to do is somehow make all the illegals want to go home.  And then instantly, magically, millions and millions of jobs will become available.  For those who have none.  Want increased hourly pay?  Make those who'll work for bupkus just disappear.  Golly, that seems like an impossibility, wouldn't you think?  Why would they want to go home when they're living the 'Murican Dream?

Ahhhh, how about by destroying California's economy so they have no choice?

Whaddaya' think, fellow Patriots?  Good plan, huh?  If your basic illegal cannot get a job, whether cooking or washing dishes or mowing lawns or building houses, then they'll have no choice but to round up momma and all the kids, kids who we may well have paid to birth, and take them on back to Hermosillo.  Or Cuernavaca.  Or perhaps Guatemala...

Every other effort has failed.  Building an ever higher and ever longer wall hasn't worked.  Fully, at least, although God knows Trump tried.  Walls can be scaled; build a 30 foot wall, somebody will bring a 31 foot ladder.  And that only considers those not yet here.  What about the 11 or 12 million everybody agrees are already here and working and gaming the system?  Or is it 20 million?  Or 40 million?  No one knows.  How do we get rid of them? 

Ahhhh, but some of us don't want to get rid of them.  Some of us want them to stay.  And work.  And VOTE!  Especially those in such liberal enclaves as San Franpoopco.  And Lost Angeles.  And Santa Moonica.  And every single city in which there's a California University System college or university.  Only the more sparsely occupied areas are relatively free from infestation.  And perhaps our Boy Guv has come to that realization.  And also the realization that he'll be recalled from office if he doesn't.  Which just might happen, and soon.  And he's also perhaps hatched a devilish little plan to make those self same illegals go on home so that his long-suffering, jobless citizens can finally find employment for themselves and their families, and maybe he can save his job.

So I'm hoping that everyone who's been thinking Boy Guv is just another commie pinko dumbass liberal weenie with lots of money and a deep-seated hatred for common citizens, is dead wrong.  I'm hoping he's the True Champion of the working class, even though he's San Fran Nan Pelosi's nephew and J. Paul Getty's Godson, and will prove it by making those who've been stealing our entry-level jobs decide it just might be a good time to go on home.   

I'm reminded of my dad telling eight year-old little me on Christmas morning with a chuckle for Chuckie that the pony I'd been hoping to receive was hiding under the tree.  What I found instead was a pile of horse sh*t.  I dug and dug and dug in that pile...yet couldn't find the pony.  Just like with Gavin Newsom, there has to be a pony in his pile somewhere.  And I keep digging and digging and digging...  

I sure hope to find the pony in Boy Guv's pile.  If not, I'm afraid he's just another elitist, greedy, opportunistic, Progressive wussie thug who will do and say anything to obtain and keep power...

Unless the current recall effort is successful.  If so, he'll be dragged kicking and screaming from office and sent packing back to his numerous restaurants and hotels and farms and vineyards.  Sent back to the French Laundry.  I hope they save him a seat.  

A $350 seat...

The Saga of the Toaster Oven...

It was a dark and stormy night.

No it wasn't.  I don't know what came over me there.  You'll have to exsqueeze me, as the events of the past few days have left me a bit rattled and off my game.  And in need of opining on a subject having absolutely nothing to do with politics.  Any subject.  So I took off on a tangent there.  I have to get back on track.  Oh yeah, here's something.  Yessss!  And so, as if by magic, the following subject matter came in over the transom.  Enjoy!

=          =          =          =          =          + + +          =          =          =          =          =

So if you'd like a barometer of just how Amerikkka is doing right about now, try this one on:

I'd decided to order a new toaster oven.  My old one had shot craps and it was time to give it a good, solid, Food Network burial.  So, having been ordered by our Boy Guv to stay home with my shades drawn and my door locked, in the dark, while wearing a mask, I did what any other good, solid Amerikan would do.  I ordered a new one from Amazon.

Yes, fellow Patriots, I've been a member of Amazon's little "Prime" group for some time now.  The pandemic gave our overpaid and underqualified elected officials every excuse to lock us down so we had no choice but to buy stuff over that dratted web thingie.  And every time we did that guy Jeff Bezos got richer.  

I smell a rat, how about you?  

Anyway, Jeff offers to ship you Chinese crap for free...after you've paid him to do so.  Which doesn't really equate to free, now does it?  But hey, Jeff's folks are pretty damn good salesweenies, doncha' know (and we're pretty damn dumb, aren't we?).  

So I checked Amazon's website just like I used to peruse the smudged and wrinkled pages of my trusty Sears catalog and selected a replacement.  The cheapest toaster oven I though might do the job.  A decent, middle-of-the-line toaster oven.  Just a simple device to reheat soggy slices of leftover pizza.  So I placed my order.  Jeff Bezos, Amazon's owner, told me I would have my new toaster oven in hand, toasting and broiling and baking, by January 5th.  Bezos lied to me.  It didn't arrive...

So I waited until January 7th and called good ol' Jeff.  He wasn't available at the time, I guess, so they patched me through to one of his minions in New Delhi.  A lady came on the phone.  She apologized, at least I think that's what she said, and offered to ship me another one.  I agreed and rung off after having given her a piece of my mind, leaving me  with several other pieces at the ready, just in case anyone else chose to stiff me.  Which I'm sure she didn't understand.  Because...New Delhi, doncha' know...

So guess what.  My new toaster oven arrived on January 8th, the next day, as promised.  Brand new, all shiny, made in China, ready to toast and broil stuff.  New Delhi Lady granted me one day delivery even though I hadn't paid for it.  I unboxed my new prize and put it to use.  Pizza now all hot and crispy.  End of story?  Ummmm, no.

On January 9th, the toaster oven I originally ordered arrived.  A second toaster oven.  After a self-consoling whimper/chuckle/gasp, I placed the box on my dining room table, operating on the assumption that New Delhi Lady would call back real soon and ask that I return the extra item.  I'm still waiting.  No phone call yet...

And then, on January 10th, I received an email from Jeffie (we're getting to be great buds by now!).  He told me that my new toaster oven was slated to arrive on Monday, January 11th, 2021.  It did.  I now have 3 toaster ovens.  Perhaps Jeff's been too busy giving out $Millions to Democrats and micro-managing the General Election to have time to speak with the New Delhi Lady (sorry about the political reference; I just cannot help myself).

All of this leaves me with three glaring questions: 

          1)  How did the second richest person on Earth get to be the second richest person on Earth by shipping people three times the amount of Chinese crap they actually paid for?  Or did this finally give us an insight into the real value of Chinese items?  Or maybe this gives us a clue maybe the Democrats conjured up this whole pandemic thingie so we could be all be locked down and forced to buy crap over the Internet...from Jeffie Bezos.  And his girlfriend New Delhi Lady.  and... 

          2), Does anyone out there need a couple of brand-new toaster ovens?  From China?  Unused?  Still in the boxes?    

Only a Fraction...

Only a fraction of those 74,000,000 Americans who voted for Donald J. Trump on Election Day chose to accept his invitation and travel to the Capitol Mall last Monday.

And only a fraction of that fraction of a million or so chose to storm the Capitol Building that day.  And all but a small fraction of those who did meandered aimlessly through the building, between the velvet ropes, taking selfies of each other in Statuary Hall.  

And only a fraction of that fraction, of that fraction, chose to actually break windows and barge through doors and steal lecterns and sit at San Fran Nan Pelosi's desk.*  A dozen or so folks.  Only a tiny fraction.  And because of them, not only is Trump being blamed for this could-have-been, thankfully-averted disaster, but so are every one of the 74,000,000 people who voted for him.  

And they're not only pissed their guy lost, they also think the Election was stolen from them.  Which makes them doubly-pissed.  And now they're being blamed for what a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of like-minded folks did a thousand miles away and without their approval.  

And now, as if we needed any more sturm und drang in our lives, the five or six social media oligarchs in Silicon Valley who we now know actually run things here in Amerika, have chosen to pile on while Trump (and his followers) is down by de-platforming him from Twitter and Instagram (same oligarch owner), and also Google and Apple.  And just yesterday Parler, the only competitor to Twitter, where millions and millions of Trump followers had vacated to when he was banished, was taken off-line by Apple and Google and Amazon as well.  Which serves to remove his only way of communicating with his voters/followers.  Which pisses them off even more! 

And now we're learning that San Fran Nan is planning to drop another round of impeachment on The Donald come Monday.  I've been telling you Loyal Readers for years that they won't be happy until they've tarred and feathered him and run him out of town on a rail.  How dare a mere businessman come to town and try and steal their thunder?  How dare a mere filthy Orange Peasant dare to ascend to their Throne?  And how dare those toothless, pickup-driving, flag-waving, beer-swilling, bible-thumping, National Anthem-standing redneck rubes vote for The Donald?  We'll track them all down and kill them, they say!  Or at least give them a good doxxxxxing! 

Remember, we were told all summer that those engaged in "mostly peaceful protests," the several hundred of them, which went on day after day after day, during which businesses and churches and homes were burned and looted with abandon, were all nice, young folks just taking part in their Constitutional right to protest?  

Did I mention folks are getting pissed?

I mean, pretty soon those po' folks in the Great Flyover gonna' run out of piss!  And on my way out the digital door, consider this: These are the same folks who own and know how to use most of the 429.5 million guns the FBI told us we collectively owned at the end of 2019.  To which they say we added another 23 million or so for 2020.  Is it really a good idea to bigly piss off the possibly tiny, tiny, tiny, tiny fraction of all those millions and millions of folks who just might feel backed into a corner?  Provoked into an act of violence?  

There's an old rule by which I live, and I believe by which others should as well:  

"Just because you CAN do a thing, doesn't mean you SHOULD do a thing!"  

And to apply this motto to today's situation, just because the Democrats now have their hands on all the levers of power in Government, the House, the Senate and the POTUS-hood, that doesn't mean they should run rough-shod over the now new minority.  

The backlash could be beyond unimaginable...

*  You've got to admit.  Now that was funny!

The Good News...and The Bad News...

Let's start with the bad news.  

As you no doubt know by now, the two Democrats won senate seats in what was previously Georgia.  No telling what it is now.  I guess only time will tell.  Perhaps the homeless will be s**tting on their streets soon, like they do in San Franpoopco.

Anyhoo, that gives the Democrats complete and total control over all three levers of power in D.C.; the House, the Senate, and the POTUS-hood.  That means they can, and will, do any damn thing they please as far as legislation goes.  That includes welcoming in a few new Democrat states, and their Democrat senators, and creating a few new Democrat SCOTUS justices, all Democrat appointees, and eliminating the filibuster, and destroying any and all minority (Republican) rights, and raising taxes, and welcoming 20 or 30 or 80 million new illegal immigrants, as (Democrat) voters, and confiscating guns, and rejoining the Paris Climate Accords, and begging those nice folks in Iran to let us back in the disastrous nuke deal, and throwing a few $Trillion at lowering the Earth's temperature.

By half a degree or so.  

That meant some 74,000,000 folks who voted for Trump and the Republicans got bupkus instead.  And they're sorta pissed.  And they trundled on down to Capitol Hill yesterday to express their displeasure, you might have noticed.  It was a "mostly peaceful protest," as the blow-dried weenies at CNN and MSPMS are so fond of calling all-out riots.  Oh, a couple of nice folks got out of hand bit, but nothing to see here.  Just move along...

So that's the bad news.  It seems people were willing to trade an increase in their taxes and a decrease in their personal freedoms in exchange for seeing Big Bad Orange Man less on TV.  He was rude.  He was brash.  He was uncouth.  And he offended half the population.  All while doing more to improve the lives of Americans in four years than any other president in history has accomplished in 8.  Or even 12.  And so they voted for a guy who's been in Washington, D.C. for more than 47 years, during which time his list of legislative accomplishments is quite glaringly narrow.  Just about the only thing good ol' Joe did in his 47 years in D.C. was to put Black men in jail by the tens of thousands.  Orange for Gray, it seems.  Be careful for what you want, they also say.  You just might get it...

And now for the good news.  

I'm pleased to say that my extremely patriotic wife did not live to see the crap taking place inside our Government today.  And in the District of Columbia yesterday.  And in the 48 Democrat-run cities that Antifa and BLM Leftist goons looted and burned almost to the ground throughout most of 2020.  Which the Legacy Media and our entertainment establishment and our college professors and half the population somehow failed to notice.  She would have been sorely aggrieved.  As am I.  And also  that I'm kinda' old and so won't live long enough to have the "Venezeulazation of America" now firmly on our horizon negatively affect my aged life.  My kids will, however.  And so will their kids.

Orange for Gray.   Joe Biden promised us a "dark winter."  Looks like he's keeping his promise...

The Kansas City...Football Team

The crazed, limp-wristed Liberals among us have been dogging the owner of the Washington Redskins Football Team to change his team's name for more than a decade.

Seems they've been wringing their manicured little hands over the perceived slight they think they've observed over American Indian rights here in 'Murica.  That's "woo-woo" Indians, not "red dot" Indians.

Our pantywaist Liberals seem to believe that calling a football team "The Redskins" is racist.  They've been incensed since their college humanities professor explained to them that they should be.  They demanded that the name be changed.  That the "Redskins" part be removed.  And that the owner, one multimillionaire Dan Snyder, be publicly horsewhipped for having had the temerity to own a team named after poor indigenous personages.  

Well, maybe not horsewhipped, actually.  Maybe just flailed and excoriated would do.

They got their wish.  Fred Smith, CEO and Founder of FedEx, and the company with the naming rights over the stadium in which the "Redskins" play their little grown-up kiddie game, simply said he'd withdraw his $20 Million a Year stadium sponsorship if the name wasn't changed.  Immediately.

Dan, having learned you don't s**t where you eat, decided that discretion was the better part of valor.  Or put more simply, he caved.  Changing the name was going to happen.  The only question was...to what?  What new mascot would good ol' Dan choose for his Team?  What mascot could he choose that wouldn't piss off some commie somewhere?  Or would he have to put together a committee of 14 to discuss the matter for a few months, and then poll test it, before a final name could be selected.  

I watched his team play on Sunday Night Football.  It seems Dan chose wisely.  He had removed every vestige of the "Redskins" mascot from his players' uniforms.  No more regal Indian chief in full headdress, which 87% of the respondents to a recent poll of Native 'Muricans said they liked mucho.  A mascot chosen back in 1932 when Americans didn't get the butthurt over such silly, insignificant, totally inane crap as the name of a football team or who might object.  The only thing left on their uniforms was their numbers.  He chose wisely, Grasshopper.  He simply chose to call it... 

"The Football Team."  

Brilliant!  Unless you've been attacked in your life by a football sometime or other, or maybe a "team" of something, you could not reasonably be off-put by the new name.  Either word.  So, I be a' thinkin', since Liberalism has taken a firm foothold here in what used to be America, and since it's highly likely even more of them will be joining in the call for other teams to change their names, why not apply that same logic to all of them right now?  And I mean all the other teams in all the other sports!  Especially since we all know that Progressive twits are going to be coming for them as well?  So why not change all the teams' names right now and rob them of a talking point?

So I, The Chuckmeister, your Scribe Without Portfolio, hereby suggest that all the teams change their names to...  Tada!  The name of the town in which they're located!  Like Dan Snyder just did.  The "Washington Football Team."  Get it?  He just dropped the mascot all together and robbed all the commie pinko dumbass Liberal weenie complainers of something to complain about!  Brilliant!

So here we go.  The "San Francisco Football Team."  The "Georgia Football Team."  The "Tennennennenesssee Football Team."  And for towns with more than one team, like New York, say, just make them "1" and "2" and "3," according to when they were formed.  Like "New York Football Team #1."  Or "Taxifornia Baseball Club #2."  Get it?  I just knew you would...

Same for basketball teams.  And for hockey teams.  And soccer teams.  Just the town then the name of the sport.  No more "Indians" or "Titans" or "49'ers" or
"Vikings" or "Blackhawks" or "Cardinals" or "Braves."  I mean, after all, some Indigenous Personages might not be brave, right?  They might just be ordinary, run-of-the-mill Indians.  Oh exsqueeze me.  I mean, Native Americans.  So why shame them by presupposing they are "brave" when they're not?  No more, I say!  No more mascots to shame or confound or irritate any of us for any reason, whatsoever.

Feelings are important, right?

Even the Kansas City Chiefs, my hometown team.  I was even at Super Bowl 3 when the Chiefs kicked ass.  But even my wonderful Chiefs must knuckle under to the fascism of Liberalism.  The Chiefs must hereby be known as the "The Kansas City Football Team."  I guess not all Indians can be chiefs, right?  No need to shame those who couldn't make the cut, right?

So on the way out the digital door, and on behalf of your local elected officials...

...Wash your hands!  Wear your mask!  Don't go to work or school!  Slow the spread!  Stay at home!  Close the blinds!  Lock the door!  You must submit!  And remember, whatever Dr. Fauci says, Dr. Fauci means.  

At the time...  

A Capitol Idea...

We've known for some time that our more Liberal friends and neighbors are dead-set against capital punishment.  You know, frying some perp for committing murder or mayhem.  

An eye for an eye, and all that.

However, we're getting to the place that only "red" states are in favor or getting ultimate payback.  The others, those run by Democrat governors, want to give murderers a parole and a nice blankie and a season's pass to D-Land.  Especially those in such Progressive enclaves as Taxifornia, Oregone and Illi-no-way.  Perhaps also giving them a good used car and a nice place to live would prove helpful.  Truly, the debate over how to deal with death row felons seriously divides our lawmakers as never before.

Which gives me, The Chuckmeister, your Scribe Without Portfolio, an idea.  I'd suggest we kill two perps with one "move," so to speak.  Simply relocate all felons facing the death penalty from your local prisons...to the Southside of Chicago!

And then give them a hunting knife, a compass, a map out of town, and our very best wishes.  Sort of like the Swartzenwhoozits movie, "Running Man," if you'll recall.  And if they make it to the City Limits, they're home Scot free!

But probably not.

And BTW, just exactly who was "Scot?"

Anyway, we know that innocent people are shot, with a gun, one of those scary firearms, doncha' know, about 77 times each weekend in Chicago.  And we know that an average of about 11 folks die.  Each weekend!  Whew!  That's a pretty big number, doncha' think?  Chicago residents suffered a total of 4,516 shootings and 763 deaths in 2020.  From gunfire.  Sure to break all records for firearm violence in 2020.  In a city where guns are pretty much illegal and buying one takes an act of Congress.*   And just for the record, killings are up 236 over 2019, so they just have to be doing something...wrong.  

Thus, fellow Pilgrims, we can assume that those rambling around Chicago's Southside stand a mucho larger chance of dying from a stray bullet...or one not-so-stray...than their Northside neighbors.  Or their Eastside neighbors.  Or pretty much any other neighbors, anywhere in America.

So knowing that folks in the Southside are in danger, and that sending anyone else there would put them in danger as well, sort of like Mayor Cuomo sending his aged senior citizens from hospitals back to NYC nursing homes to die, how about we just stop trying to get death penalty cases through bleeding heart juries, and simply send them to where there's a pretty good chance their heart will be bleeding within a matter of days?

Assuming the NYC nursing homes aren't taking new "guests," that is?

Chicago's Southside residents have been dying in droves from errant gunfire for years.  But the so-called "MainStreamMedia" chooses not to talk about it.  Why?  Most likely because the victims are Black, and Black folks aren't all that important.  You can bet if these killings were occurring in any White enclave, anywhere, the backlash to stop them would be enormous!  

But they're Black, so no big deal.  And since there's already a "killing field" happening every weekend in Chicago, why not take advantage by simply adding a few murderers and rapists and kidnappers to the mix?  I say this is an idea whose time has come?   

If you agree, fellow Pilgrims, be sure to call and write your local elected weenie and recommend they send all their felons with death sentences to Chicago post-haste.  Hey, we might even televise the action, like Richard Whazizzname did for Aaaanold, and make a little money off the exercise.  Pay-per-view, doncha' know...

I love it when a plan comes together...

*  (Literally; it took even more than an act of Congress.  It took a vote by the Supreme Court.   McDonald v. City of Chicago, 2010.  Look it up.).  

Chuckmeisterunleashed!

Happy New Year!  I don't have to wax too awfully philosophic about the wonderful year just passed, as 2020 was the suckiest on record!  So, 2021 won't have to try very hard to be mucho better than the crappy year we see in our rearview mirrors.  That stated, I dug into my almost bottomless bag of tricks and extracted something you might find interesting to start off your New Year.  Soooo, without further ado, or adon't, let us proceed...

An old friend asked the other day how I came by the name for my unassuming little blog.  He wanted to know how I concocted such a "strange" name.  I told him to have a chair and I'd tell the him the tale of how the "Chuckmeisterunleashed" blogpost came to be...

For those of you who don't know, my dearly departed wife and I started, owned and operated a medical services business in Orange County, California.  For nearly 40 years.    So, being fully invested in my community, I got to know the local movers and shakers, and often expressed my opinion about all sorts of things going on in my old Stomping Grounds.  Nosy people who just can't keep their opinions to themselves are kind of like that.  And so, among my efforts at so doing I started sending in little opinion pieces - letters to the editor - to our local newspaper, "The Daily Pilot."  

I'd see or hear something of interest and I'd innocently whip off a Letter to the Editor.  And Lo and Behold!  They started printing them!  Almost all of them!  They did the very thing one should never do with a guy like me.  A guy who just loves to write and loves to write stuff that is often, shall we say, a bit controversial.  And a guy who just loves to cause trouble, I might add.  On purpose.  Well, not really.  But I've found that telling the truth to those not willing to hear it often, can cause "trouble."  

Anyway, they chose to publish my work apparently unaware that doing so was applauding bad behavior.  And one should never, ever applaud bad behavior.  Because when you applaud Bad Behavior, you get more of it... 

The paper in question serves the beachy communities of Newport Beach and Costa Mesa, California.  Roughly 200,000 in population between them, I'd guess.  A 100+ year-old little throwaway full of gobs of stories about the weather and business openings and closings and meetings of the Lions Club and car wrecks and DUI checkpoints and ads for restaurants and local events and, obituaries, of course.  And columns written by local luminaries expressing their opinions.  Like I did.  Just your basic little small town newspaper that tells the day-in, day-out story of "you" and "me."

Well, being interested as all get out about local politics, and having arrived at that point in my professional career that I could carve out some spare time for little hobbies, I started sharing my opinions about local political events via this little paper.  And people began to read them.  More than 200 separate offerings in all.  

Opinions are like a**holes, you should know.  Everybody's got one...  

Anyway, they published first one, and then a second, and then many, many more.  Sometimes one a week.  Sometimes even two.  Enough that I got to feel like I'd expressed my opinions and made sure others had a chance to read them.  I fancied myself sort of like a "man-on-the-street," opining about all sorts of stuff in my local newspaper.  And this conversation wasn't one-way.  I got tons of feedback from members of the community, at the supermarket and drugstore and Norm's, who I learned actually considered me as a part of their local media.

Me, a citizen journalist.  What a hoot!

Now, I should say that I'm a bit Conservative.  Not rabidly so, just enough to know that government should be small and taxes should be low and those in authority should stay out of my wallet, and my home, and my bedroom, and my gun cabinet, and my business.  I wanted - and want - a Government just large enough to provide the services necessary to keep its constituents safe, and not even a tiny bit larger.  Because, I knew that permitting Government to grow unimpeded can, and does, result in out-of-control growth in rules and regulations and taxes and fees.  And all of those things reduce efficiency.  And profitability.  And therefore growth.  Simple, right?

Need an example?  Look at California!  From the very best state in the nation to a dystopic "Utopia" full of homeless derelicts and hoodlums and drug addicts and shoplifters and nosy Left-wing billionaires.  People pooping on the streets, and billionaires stepping over it.  Just picture that...

Example:  Did you know that 80% of all the large cranes in America are in use today in Washington, D. C.?  Cranes are used to build buildings.  Thus, one could deduce that 80% of all the big buildings being built in the U. S. today are being built in and around the D.C. area.  Out-of-control growth.  Too much excess money without an important place to go.  Like I said...

To continue, many, and it now seems maybe most, tend to believe that Government should be gargantuan!  Large enough to provide everyone a cradle-to-grave entitlement state that takes care of our every need.  Paid for, of course, by "the rich."  Those are the people who make more than they do.  Anyone, anywhere that makes more than "they" do should be forced to pay for whatever "they" need.  And thus, "identity politics" came into being a few decades back, resulting in class warfare.  That's socialism in a nutshell.  

"Don't tax you, don't tax me.  Tax the man behind the tree."

To continue, one fine day the Editor of the Daily Pilot called to offer me a job.  A paid job!  A job writing a weekly column.  On pretty much any subject I wanted, of pretty much any length.  Not much in the way of pay, but paid, nonetheless.  I jumped at the chance, figuring that my writings would now give me the opportunity to effectuate personal priorities without having to roll around in the pig sty of electoral politics.  In other words, I could hide in the bushes and throw spitballs.  Safety is and has always been a priority of mine.  Heh, heh...

Funny thing about electoral politics.  The moment you decide to run for an elected office, it seems that you've immediately pissed off half the population.  Just formally proclaiming oneself a "Republican" these days automatically causes those who "aren't" to circle the wagons and prepare for battle.  To mount all necessary resources to make sure you don't win.  Example:  On Election Day 2018, seven Orange County Republican candidates were ahead when the polls closed.  They were proclaimed the winners.  Two weeks later, after Democrat operatives "found" more than 250,000 ballots, all seven lost.  Lost!  Like that...

(BTW, notice that the Democrats did to the Country what they did to Orange County back in 2018.  Massive amounts of "mail-in" voting - millions and millions of unsolicited votes - and then "ballot harvesting" to guarantee the local "bag man" makes sure those votes are for the right candidates.  And we're paying the price for it as this is written.)

So whereas the community had welcomed my occasional offerings to the "Pilot" prior to my formal column, once I began to write it those who wish to silence Conservative thought came out of the woodwork.  Negative commentary from those on the Left caused the Editor of the L. A. Times, owner of the "Daily Pilot," and (in)famous Left-wing newspaper of little repute, to send me packing within only a few weeks.  Sad to say my journalism career was...over.

But all, I'm happy to say, was not lost!  My good friend Geoff West was at the time the publisher of a very popular blog called "A Bubbling Cauldron."  His blog was famous for the pithy, straightforward way he provided us, the members of the community, with the goings on in C.M. and N.B.  I shared with Geoff that I'd been sent to the showers.  He consoled me by suggesting that I write a blog like he did and put everything in it I'd like to have said in my column, but couldn't, because the "Times" wouldn't let me.  He said that I'd been "liberated" now, or "unleashed," as he called it.  And the light bulb went on.  I'd always been called the "Chuckmeister" from my days shooting professional pool and billiards (I was at one time back in the 'sixties considered among the 20 best in the world!).  I just added the "unleashed" part to it and ... Voila! ... 

                         "Chuckmeisterunleashed!!!"  

There you have it, fellow Pilgrims.  My blog isn't much to look at, but as they say, it's all I have.  And every couple of days I take a deep breath and publish an opinion on one thing or another.  Most often in essay form.  That's shorter than a short story, but longer than a novel, doncha' know.  And thanks again to Geoff, my blog spirit animal.  I hope you all enjoy what I write.  But understand that I write what I see and feel.  And I do it for myself!  I do it for psychic income, caring not one whit once I push "publish" whether another human anywhere likes it or not.  And every now and again I believe it's worth the time it takes to read.

I hope you'll agree...  

(http://chuckmeisterunleashed.blogspot.com)