ATF

Well shit...

Here we are... its friday... I've had about 6 shots of this Bulleit Bourbon.... and dayem did I need ever one of them. Rough few days. That's no shit.

Anyway... here we are. DJ and Julie have come home.. lettin' the B Team take over.... ok that's just ribbin'. Jenn and Jill are doin' a great job down there with their dad. I'm proud as I can be of 'em... not that it matters.

But for now... there's Charlie Robinson in the background... DJ and I are playin' some pathetic MSN game... The pipe smoke is fillin' my office...

All is well.

I sincerely hope y'all can say the same.

Standard rules apply. What ya drinkin? smokin? carryin?

Sorry

Bizarre audio blogs aside, I won't be doing much around here for a while guys. I just ain't got the time. I'm sure y'all realize how things are with my family right now. I've set up a blog to keep all of our friends and family up to date on my father-in-law's condition. if you're interested it can be found here.

The Best Laid Plans...

I'm home. Dammit.

I'm supposed to be riding through the Ozarks right now on dirt roads... campin' with my older brother... debating which food to accidentally leave out to lure a bear in so we can kill it in self defense.

If you haven't figured it out, my father-in-law wrecked his car this weekend in all the storms around Chattanooga. He hydroplaned and ended up wrapping his car around a tree. He's in the ICU right now. Things got real dicey for a while saturday night, but it all worked out. A full recovery looks pretty likely.

Anyway JAC and I hauled ass on the big road all day on sunday... We're pretty bummed... but a bad day on a bike is a helluva lot better than a good day in the ICU.

The ol' fella's doin a lot better y'all. We all appreciate your prayers and help.

Packing List


Nevermind me... I'm just typing outloud...


Food Stuffs:
1 large summer sausage
1 bag pita bread
1 large block of sharp cheddar cheese
4 cans of Steak and Potatoe soup
3 Ramen cup o' noodles
2 large bags of Jack's Beef Jerky


2 litres Water
1 flask (Gold Medal Jack)
Propane stove
2 bottles of propane
Small mess kit

2 blue jeans
2 dingy white bitch beaters
Much throw away underwear
Much throw away socks


Tool kit
1 front tube
1 spare clutch lever
Kershaw open assist knife
Leatherman Wave
LED flashlight (worn on forehead!)
batteries (AA, AAA, D)
Steyr .40 spare clip
.357

1 pack Backwoods smokes.
(that won't be enough... resupply in As)

The Great Debate

We need some help. JAC and I just can't seem to see eye-to-eye on this. We're at odds over whiskey and firearms.

Not good.

Here's what we agree on: We're riding dirt roads through backwoods arkansas. We're camping. We'll be in some hard hard country. There are bear and pigs in Arkansas.

JAC says travel light and fast. Firearms need to be small and easy to carry. He's bringing his gay 9mm with about 4 spare rolls of those little red sulfer caps that it fires.












I am thinking... 9mm cap guns mean much to pigs and bears. My standard trail gun, the Taurus .357 tracker is just the thing. And of course the Steyr would be coming as well. That's 7 shots of .357 hard ball, followed by a New York reload and 11 shots of some nasty fragmenting 165 grain rounds in .40.

More is more says I. What say you?

On the whiskey front... JAC is thinking the finer stuff is the way to go. More of an indulgence than a drink. I'm thinking there is something bizarre about Bookers from a flask on a dirt trail in Arkansas. Dirt trails in Arkansas say Jack. Not Bookers. Plus... we're roughin' it. Fine whiskey is not for roughin' it! We should be drinkin' shine dammit!

Help us out here.

On the Road Again

Well... its about that time again. Come Saturday at 0 dark thirty JAC and I are gonna head out for Helena Arkansas. Our aim is to pickup the TransAm Trail where we left off a few months ago. Unlike last time, we're camping this time.

There is a little stress involved... mostly because the tires I ordered still haven't arrived. Ugh.

The plan is to be back sometime wednesday. I'm trying to get audio blogger up and running so y'all can live vicariously to us. I'll seem more than a little distracted over the next few days because well... I am.

Y'all be cool.

Bloggerblaster TV!

If you live around Nashville tune in to Channel 4 news at 10pm. You can catch the Bloggerblaster's first on camera interview. The boys stopped by to get some primo footage of Mrs Bloggerblaster and the boys playin' in the puddles, and to get my take on the local pothole contraversy. Naturally its a big government conspiracy! Anyway... its a fine chance to see DrWho on camera in her PJ's... soaked from chasin' little boys through mud puddles! Beat That Channel 2! Ya Bitches!

ATF

Welcome to the I don't give a damn edition.

The Air Force has come out and recommended that we test our non-lethal weapons on US Citizens before we employ them... after all... we don't want to seem mean to our enemies.

I don't give a damn.

Seriously. I don't. Nothing that happens here suprises me any more. I've largely insulated myself from actually having contact with this society. I have no job. I never directly come in contact with the government in any form. I'm well along my way of severing all ties with the US. My emotional ones were severed years ago. The physical ones aren't far behind.

Why?

Because all of this fritting over policy and politics is chasing after the wind. That's why. Ignore it. Ignore them. Eat, Drink, and Be Merry, for this is the Gift of the Lord. Consern yourself with you and yours. Enjoy your work. Enjoy your life. Because everything else is chasing after the wind.

There is no satisfaction to be had in fretting over the state of the US, or the latest assault on your independence. It is chasing after the wind.

Leave it lay.

Drink with me! Smoke with me! Let us tell grand lies that no one believes but everyone loves to hear! Let us chase the girls, for they were given us for that very thing. Let us fiddle while Rome burns... for burn it will regardless... and the fiddling is enjoyable!

Sing the old songs... Dance the old dances... Drink the finest bourbon... smoke extravagant cigars... Scream at that the top of your lungs for a football team you never played for, at a college you never attended... live and die by the score, for the score is more relevant in your life than the stupidity going on in Washington anyway.

I sit alone in my dark office... with Bookers... and a pipe... with a Kris Kristofferson tune playing a little to quietly... There is joy here friends. Joy which cannot be dampened by some cowards words... or the foolish actions of a fool in a white house... or the idiot ramblings of a ferret with a talk show.

Somwhere there are tall palm trees casting shade over an empty hamock... the breeze is blowing in just so... and that my friends... that is the greatest tragedy of all.

My Only Friend, The End

"Only fight the battles you have already won." - The Art of War

The War on Terror is over. It just hasn't played out yet.

The theatrics in Iraq and Afganistan are trivia. Their outcome is as meaningless as a baseball score. While we fritter and squawk about the Middle East... we ignore the fire burning on our own soil.

The west faces a schizophrenic enemy. Publicly Islam is the Religion of Peace. In their mosques they preach westernized islam... watered down for easy consumption of potential recruits. The real damage is done privately, and usually at the local university.

Go to any muslim student union. You'll find they have devided the meeting into two halves. The first half is the published public meeting time, and most of the meeting will be conducted in English. But you'll note that practically everyone stays when its over. This is when the second half begins, which is actually the real meeting. This section will not be in English and its message will be very different indeed.

And now we see the trap.

We cannot attack the enemy without attacking ourselves. The weak american public will never support the targeting of a muslim student union.. or of a mosque. The fact that the masked bombers are always the same people who're preaching peace at the mosque or student union means nothing. Americans are headline people. That's to much detail for them.

Europe will deal with its muslim problem harshly... violently... and America will have to choose between its beloved politically correct idiology, or the reality of the most violent bloody religion on the planet.

America has lost for the same reason the South lost. It is unwilling to escalate the fight to the level required to win.

I Believe...

I believe the Vols are gonna beat the Gay Tors saturday.

I believe Billy Volek is already a Charger. They just haven't signed the papers because of the game Sunday.

I believe Billy Volek will take the starting job from Phillip Rivers. Look.. when you throw the ball 11 times and run it 48, that says you have no faith in your QB.

I believe Kerry Collins will complete less than 50% of his passes on Sunday, but the Titans still might win.

I believe Alabama needs to work on the right half of their offensive line. They're trouble in paradise.

I believe the only thing more meaningless than the preseason in the NFL are the conclusions drawn after week 1.

I believe LSU vs. Auburn will be the best football game played this weekend on any level.

I believe WVU is wildly over-rated.

I believe I'm 1 - 0 in the VPFL

I believe baseball is lame. Get over it.

I believe the Predators are gonna win the Stanley Cup this year.

I believe Notre Dame is gonna destroy Meechigan.

I believe Tennessee Tech and MTSU play tonight, and I really wanna go... because at one time this was a real gem of a local rivalry. I'm hoping it gets rekindled.

LIGHT UP A CIGAR!

Res is a Daddy Y'all! Healthy baby boy! Congratulate the man for puttin' the stem on the ol' apple!

God Bless y'all!

Texas Wins

Why?

What do you mean why? Their quarterback is named Colt McCoy. Seriously. Does anyone think the homo buckeyes have a chance against a kid like that? Colt's been reading defenses since he was six.... when he was born... his daddy said, "Name him Colt. He's gonna quarterback the Horns one day". You know how I know he said that?

Because every daddy in Texas says that. That's why. This just happens to be one of the few who found a wife good enough to let it go.

NFL Week 1

Miami over Pittsburgh
Indy over Giants
Carolina over Atlanta
Bears over Green Bay
Cincinatti over KC
Jacksonville over Dallas
New England over Buffalo
Tampa Bay over Baltimore
Denver over Rams
Tennessee over Jets
Houston over Philadephia
Seattle over Detroit
Arizona over 49rs
San Diego over the Raiders

Bow Down

Guitar solo's are awesome? Band is for dorks? Drumlines are full of geeks?

Check this out.

Happy Birthday JAC










Nuff Said.

Cop Killer

At what point does being a cop become a shooting offense? I sincerely hope you realize I'm not kidding.

Everyday cops kill innocent people. They do it accidentally. They do it deliberately. And what are the consequences? When you accidentally kill someone, its manslaughter... or attempted murder... depending on how the DA feels that day. When a cop accidentally kills someone... what happens? Nothing. You say a world without cops is anarchy. I say when the law doesn't apply to cops... you already have anarchy.

A couple months paid leave while bureaucrats with a vested interest in the outcome pretend to investigate. Isn't interesting that these investigations always seem to last just long enough for the public to forget about the poor bastard that died for no reason. In the exceedingly rare event that some negative report does come from the investigation, there are still no consequences for the offending officer. Here in Tennessee a park ranger opens fire on a car with no justifiable reason. The committee sent a scathing report of his actions to the park service. What came of it?

Nothing.

The murderer isn't in jail. He didn't even get a fine. You can't even sue the S.O.B. for the funeral costs.

Whack 'em stack'em. First they kill you... then they sweep it under the rug by claiming you were driving drunk... or dealing drugs... or had some sort of criminal record. Like committing a crime in the past makes it ok for the cops to kick down your door in the middle of the night and shoot you in your own bed. Oooops... No knock warrant.. wrong house.. sorry. Price you pay for living in a bad neighborhood.

And what about that case where the father called the cops to help with his mentally ill daughter who'd refused to take her meds? The girl had baracaded herself in her apartment and wouldn't come out.

Oh the cops got her out all right... in a body bag. See the girl waved a deadly lamp at one the cops. So they emptied a couple high-cap clips in her. Hey... she had a weapon. Right?

Now lets talk about cops in general. Think back to high school. Which kids became cops? Right. The assholes. The bullies, and those bullied. The bullies become cops because they get off on pushing people around and the badge gives them that excuse. Those who were bullied in high school become cops to turn the tables for themselves. Either way you end up with a dickhead with a chip on his shoulder.

Cops are like Teachers. The system is such that any individuals capable of the slightest decency are weeded out or run off sooner rather than later. The odds of you encountering one that's not a prick are something kin to winning the lottery.

If you learn nothing from this blog... if you hate everything I write.. please consider this: Cops never make anything better. They make every situation worse. Whatever problem you have, you are far better off solving it yourself, and then, only after it is well over, calling them to come document your story... and remember its always best for there to only be one story. Dead men tell no tales. Dead men don't sue.

Never dial 911.

The number you're looking for is 1911.

And don't give me any of the "not all cops are bad" shit. I have a friend who's a deputy. Talk to him for 15 minutes. He's a dick. He couldn't care less about right or wrong or keeping the peace. All he cares about is the law. All he cares about is authority. All he respects is power. And this is one of the best cops I've ever met!

If you're a cop... or a teacher for that matter... and you think you aren't a scumbag... you're probably wrong. If you're not.. there's one sure way to find out. Get a new job.

For dozens.. I mean dozens of confirmed cases of death by cop, including details on the cases I've briefly mentioned... click here.

And now before you all morons email me... cleverly asking how long I was in jail... consider this:
the post above was written by a law abiding citizen with no criminal record, who's never been arrested, who is active in the children's ministry at his church. I've never even stepped foot in a jail, for any reason.

When inner-city blacks scream "Fuck the Poe Leece" you blow it off as black rage looking for an outlet.

So how do you blow it off when a law-abiding church going white boy, who likely is far more successful than you are says it? How do you blow it off when someone who's greatly benefited from the system, says the system is FUBAR?

We're leaving. I don't know exactly when. I don't know exactly where. But we are getting the hell out of this country. I'm going to look for America. I love America. Someone tell me where the hell it went.

And any cops who read this and get pissy... don't bother emailing me. I don't give a hootin' hell.

Fare Thee Well

Its an odd time to write this... a Saturday in September... college football's opening day. UT is kicking off in just over an hour.

I've never talked about this here before... and I think this weekend is probably the most appropriate time.

I want to say goodbye to my favorite athlete. A man I've cheered on over 2 decades. The greatest individual athlete I've ever seen in person. An artist... as brutal as Mike Tyson in his prime... with Joe Montana's touch. A burst comparable to Dion Sanders... Eyes like no other on planet earth.

Tennis is as brutal a sport as there is. When you're out there losing... there is no one to save you. No teammates... no coach... just the lines.. the net.. and the man on the other side. Thousands of people watch while you are systematically destroyed, and nothing you do helps. The only thing comparable is boxing... and at least in boxing someone on your side can end the misery by throwing in the towel. Its no place for the weak of heart.

In his early twenties people doubted... but I never did. One legend goes like this...

A gaggle of media types are standing around at an athletic convention where Nike has a big big presence. Their poster boy... the Rebel if ever there was one, is hyped everywhere. These grizzled old writers are skeptical... with good reason. They wonder aloud what the fuss is about.

A couple of the boys at Nike get wind of this sentiment. Word is sent out... and the crusty old skeptics are escorted to some batting cages Nike has set up. They stand around a while waiting to see what the fuss is about... but happy to watch major leaguers take turns hitting the 95mph machine

Then he shows up.

Andre Agassi stepped into that machine picked up a bat... gave a nod to the controller, and took off running full out, right at the barrel. The machine blasted a 95mph fastball right at him.

***CRACK***

You say hitting a round object with a round bat is the hardest act in sports?

Andre Agassi did on the run. Over and Over again.

What most people don't know about Andre... is that all those people who questioned his commitment to Tennis were exactly right. He never chose tennis. He didn't particularly like it. He did it because his dad made him do it.

People thought that he had a confidence problem before he won Wimbledon... and they assumed that after that big win, he'd rip of title after title. But he faded. Why? Because he never had a confidence problem at all. He had a motivation problem. A problem that got worse after the win, not better. After he went in hoping that winning would finally satisfy him. After it, he looked around and asked, "Is this it? Is this all there is?" He was wondering if it worth spending his life for that feeling, and he was pretty sure it wasn't.

So much has been made of his up and down career, and what could have been if he'd just been focused early in his twenties. But how many people can say they were the number 3 player in the world in a sport they didn't particularly like?

How many people can say they won Wimbledon, on nothing but raw talent?

And why did Andre hate tennis?

After he won Wimbledon in 1992... his first phone call was to his dad. What did dear old dad say?

"You should've won in 4 sets."

Throughout his career Andre has bared his soul to the tennis world. He's been through more than any other athlete I can think of, from the dizzying highs of Rock and Roll Tennis to the miserable lows of all those Grand Slam Finals lost. From US Open Champion... to changing his own score cards on some backwoods qualifier tournament... ranked 250th in the world.

The last reincarnation of Andre... the one most of you probably know as the short bald guy... He is the result of Andre Agassi finally deciding he likes tennis. After being a pro for 11 years... Andre looked around and thought... hmmm... Maybe I'll actually try.

The result is one of the greatest tennis players of all time. The last man who will ever win all 4 grand slams. One of only a hand full to have one 8 or more total.. and without question, the most beloved tennis player in the history of the game.

I suspect sometime in the next few days... Andre Agassi's career will come to an end. He's retiring at this year's US Open and every match could be his last. If you get a chance, I recommend staying up one night to watch. These matches... these nights... they come around once every 10 years or so... and it will be a long time before the next one. The crowd will be insane... screaming their lungs out for the man they grew up watching. Pleading for the games Greatest Entertainer to pull out one big show... for the Game's Greatest puncher to throw one more hay-maker from 3 feet inside the baseline.

If you hate tennis... watching a matches like these will make you wonder why you don't watch more.

But then you'll remember... Its only special because of a great player... and great players don't come around that often.

Thanks for your time Andre. Thanks for changing the game. Thanks for translating tennis to all those millions of American sports fans. Enjoy every second of this encore sir.

Its been one helluva ride.