When Alabama and I woke up this morning there was something noticeably different in the overall dynamic of our relationship. Gone was the semi-euphoric feeling of love and trust, gone was the overwhelming desire to stay in bed and cuddle. We just got up, shook hands, and went about our usual Saturday routine of couch sitting and coffee.

Alabama took off early to sell her Betty’s Not for Sheeple at the farmers market, leaving me time to contemplate why we don’t seem to love each other as much lately. After a few minutes of browsing the headlines, it occurred to me what must be happening.

The sanctity of our marriage has been ruined by President Obama’s announcement that he approves of same sex marriage here in the United States.

I’ve seen this kind of thing happen before. Back in the late 1970’s I was all about music. There was never a time while I was in my teens that I didn’t have Led Zepplin, or Black Sabbath, or Rush, or even Neil Young blasting somewhere in my car or my Mom’s house. The music inspired me to learn to play the guitar and write songs and join a band.

But the dark days of the early 80’s appeared, and Prince and Cinderella and Run DMC were allowed to perform in front of others. No laws were passed to protect the innocence of good music and in no time all music was infected, and essentially ruined, because of these artistically immoral acts. Before you knew it, we had Snoop Doggy Dog and Brittany Spears and Back Street Boys.

And 50 Cent and Justin Beaver…

I’ve hated music ever since, to the point the only tunes I listen to these days are the ones I have personally written, because I know all other music could possibly be contaminated with the tasteless garbage mentioned above.

I have this same feeling toward my marriage this morning. Just because I live in a state that has unanimously passed a constitutional amendment to ensure the sanctity of marriage, I still don’t feel safe.

Granted, now that Idaho has defined marriage as being between a “man and a woman only,” life for her residents has gotten much better; our state tax has been abolished, our school system is the best in the country, and our economy is such that anyone who wants to work can find a high paying job, regardless of skills or education. Not that any of those things are important.

What really matters to Idahoans is that those fucking homosexuals can’t get married! EVER!

Perhaps not all is lost. I clearly remember being bullied by children in the neighborhood where I grew up. Back then we called these long haired poverty stricken kids “hoods.” They would ride around on their stolen bicycles and terrorize kids with short hair. I had short hair, and often times I feared for my life.

Had I have had a concealed weapons permit back then, with absolutely no training or real accountability, like I do now, I could have protected myself, and my family mind you, and simply pulled out a gun and shot each one of those hoods in the face.

Yes, once in a while things do get better with time.I would personally like to thank my Idaho Legislators for protecting my 2nd Amendment rights by making it easier to obtain a concealed weapons permit than it is to licence my pets.

But not when it comes to same sex marriage. Knowing LGBT couples have a slim chance at legalized happiness with President Obama’s announcement has already begun to ruin my relationship with Alabama.

I know Mitt Romney has promised a full on federal constitutional amendment to define traditional marriage if he is elected, but I’m not sure that will be enough. How can we be sure these Jesus loving straight couples, that Mitt Romney has vowed to protect, will have straight children? What if there are more LGBT kids being born each minute? How can we be sure heterosexuality isn’t being contaminated by LGBT folks just like Prince and his ilk ruined all music forever?

I know the GOP is all about less government and more personal freedom, but come on! How can marrying someone who you love be considered a personal freedom unless you’re a straight Protestant Christian?

I’m gonna have to give this more thought while I’m loading my Ruger LRC. I gotta go to the grocery and liquor store this afternoon, and thanks to the same folks protecting me from the LGBT community, I can legally carry a gun and shoot somebody in the face if it looks like they mean me harm.

You just never know what kinda trouble you might run into at the grocery or liquor store in Idaho Falls Idaho.

You mess with Cinco de Mayo? I'll mess you up!

Yes, today is Cinco de Mayo, which means, “May 5″ in English. Now most folks I know use this holiday as an excuse to drink copious amounts of tequila, eat a few dozen tacos/burritos/fajitas, and spew a bit of profanity in Spanish to friends and neighbors.

Why just this morning I greeted the trolls who occupy the house next door with “Buenos días, mi vecina puta, cuánto para una mamada?” Loosely translated this means “Good morning my whore neighbor, how much for a blow job? ”

In his usual manner, my neighbor pretended not to here me and scurried back into his house like a cockroach under the fridge when you flip the lights on. Perhaps my pronunciation was off. Either way it doesn’t matter, they don’t celebrate May 5, I think July 24 is their big day, something about their ancestors liberating the West from those filthy savages and turning it into dry farms for Jesus.

Up until I moved to Denver back in the mid 80′s, I had never heard of Cinco de Mayo. Then again, there were many things I had never heard of at that point. I spent the first 25 years of my life in Idaho before the internet. Hell, I didn’t know girls had orgasms, let alone there was some Mexican thing called Cinco de Mayo.

Back then, we Idahoans got all our news and information by reading cereal boxes, or listening to KUPI, or going to Sunday talks at the Ammon 8th Ward. If it wasn’t on a box of Quisp, or Bob Owens didn’t announce it between Ann Murray songs, or Bishop Olsen didn’t mention it while highlighting the evils of masturbation, then it wasn’t important.

So for informational purposes, I thought I would enlighten everyone who is going to celebrate today. Cinco de Mayo is not Mexican Independence day, only a fucking rube would think that (up until this morning I was a fucking rube).

Here are the facts:

In 1861 the liberal Mexican Benito Juárez (1806-1872) became president of a country in financial ruin, and he was forced to default on his debts to European governments. In response, France, Britain and Spain sent naval forces to Veracruz to demand reimbursement. Britain and Spain negotiated with Mexico and withdrew, but France, ruled by Napoleon III (1808-1873), decided to use the opportunity to carve a dependent empire out of Mexican territory. Late in 1861, a well-armed French fleet stormed Veracruz, landing a large French force and driving President Juárez and his government into retreat.

Certain that success would come swiftly, 6,000 French troops under General Charles Latrille de Lorencez (1814-1892) set out to attack Puebla de Los Angeles, a small town in east-central Mexico. From his new headquarters in the north, Juárez rounded up a rag-tag force of 2,000 loyal men—many of them either indigenous Mexicans or of mixed ancestry—and sent them to Puebla. Led by Texas-born General Ignacio Zaragoza (1829-1862), the vastly outnumbered and poorly supplied Mexicans fortified the town and prepared for the French assault. On May 5, 1862, Lorencez drew his army, well provisioned and supported by heavy artillery, before the city of Puebla and led an assault from the north. The battle lasted from daybreak to early evening, and when the French finally retreated they had lost nearly 500 soldiers. Fewer than 100 Mexicans had been killed in the clash.

Although not a major strategic win in the overall war against the French, Zaragoza’s success at Puebla represented a great symbolic victory for the Mexican government and bolstered the resistance movement. Six years later—thanks in part to military support and political pressure from the United States, which was finally in a position to aid its besieged neighbor after the end of the Civil War—France withdrew. The same year, Austrian Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian, who had been installed as emperor of Mexico by Napoleon in 1864, was captured and executed by Juárez’s forces. Puebla de Los Angeles was renamed for General Zaragoza, who died of typhoid fever months after his historic triumph there.

Cinco de Mayo in Mexico

Within Mexico, Cinco de Mayo is primarily observed in the state of Puebla, where Zaragoza’s unlikely triumph occurred, although other parts of the country also take part in the celebration. Traditions include military parades, recreations of the Battle of Puebla and other festive events. For many Mexicans, however, May 5 is a day like any other: It is not a federal holiday, so offices, banks and stores remain open.

Cinco de Mayo in the United States

In the United States, Cinco de Mayo is widely interpreted as a celebration of Mexican culture and heritage, particularly in areas with substantial Mexican-American populations. Chicano activists raised awareness of the holiday in the 1960s, in part because they identified with the victory of indigenous Mexicans over European invaders during the Battle of Puebla. Today, revelers mark the occasion with parades, parties, mariachi music, Mexican folk dancing and traditional foods such as tacos and mole poblano. Some of the largest festivals are held in Los Angeles, Chicago and Houston.

Now you know; it’s all about some battle that was fought in some obscure place in Mexico and most Mexicans who live in Mexico don’t even celebrate Cinco de Mayo, it’s almost exclusively an American holiday.

So tonight when you’re out pounding Coronas, slamming Patron shooters, and screaming at the top of your lungs “Oye cabrón, lame mi escroto!” and some fucking rube prattles nonsense about Cinco de Mayo, you can put him/her in their place by stating facts.

And isn’t that what this holiday is really all about in the first place? Getting drunk with friends and neighbors and making sure they know you are right and they are WRONG? I hope I’m not missing the whole point here.

Anyway:

Fucking-A… and Happy Cinco de Mayo bitches!

Yes, this is an updated version of last years No Motor piece, but if you haven’t read it, it’s new to you. Come to the No Motor on Saturday and have the time of your life, or stay home and be the biggest douche in the universe. The choice is yours, choose wisely bitches.

Winter in the Rockies is long. After six months of the white stuff even the most avid boarders and skiers are ready for a change of season by the time the month of May rolls around.  Idaho Falls resident Matt Stanger has spent the past thirteen years making sure Old Man Winter knows he’s no longer welcome by organizing a rite of spring event enthusiastically known as the Grand Teton No Motor.

This homage to better weather began back in 2000 when Stanger was an ecology student working his way through school at a bicycle shop in Southeast Idaho. He used to ride with a group of hardcore cyclists that did 60-mile loops through Yellowstone Park each spring. Fun for Stanger, but his regular crowd of friends weren’t up for a marathon ride through steep mountain terrain. His crowd was more about marathon rides across town to the bar.

In the hope of getting his friends more involved with cycling, Stanger worked up a short ride into Teton National Park that would provide the most beautiful scenery the West has to offer while keeping the physical challenge at a level even a 50-year-old fat man could handle.  It should be noted Stanger wasn’t entirely selfless in creating this ride; he was also trying to entice his girlfriend to get out with him. It worked; he’s now married to said girlfriend.

Who knew bicycling could be used to pitch woo?

The No Motor, as it is affectionately referred to by seasoned veterans, takes place each year on the last Saturday of April. May 1 is opening day for motorized traffic in Teton National Park and more specifically, on the road to Jenny Lake. Stanger took advantage of the park’s schedule to create a memorable ride for all while eliminating the possibility of cyclists getting run down by cell phone yapping SUV drivers.

Although the distance from the start at the Taggart Lake Trailhead to Jenny Lake is only 5 miles over a pancake-flat paved road, it takes the No Motor group several hours to complete the trip and return. This is due to the nature of the ride. While the destination is of some importance, it’s more about getting there in style, socializing along the way and enjoying a close-up view of the Tetons.

Stopping to have sitdowns in the middle of the road every few hundred yards is the norm. Spirits are high and passed around freely, as are tales of winters past and summertime adventures yet to come. Dogs are plentiful on the ride as well, and these sitdowns allow canine social time. The dogs seem to feed off the positive energy their owners exude.

While any style of bike is accepted without bias, several “No Motorists” work the entire winter building custom bicycles that often epitomize form over function. Breakdowns are not uncommon.

Many of these highly sophisticated two-wheeled marvels are on the cutting edge of homebuilt technology. The ride offers local bike builders a chance to showcase their inventiveness and creative prowess. Custom bike designs are as diverse as the riders, from wacky recumbent contraptions to sleek lowrider choppers to 1930s retro looks. The more unique, the better.

The dozens of No Motorists who participate each year come from all walks of life, from aviation mechanics and college students to plumbers and chemists. Folks of all backgrounds and ages meld into a unified mass of bicycling revelers bonded by deep-seated seasonal optimism brought on by the promise of warmer weather.

Music along the way is provided by the incomparable Jonny B and his battery powered boombox-equipped “Trike of Entertainment.” You’re as likely to hear Merle Haggard belt out “Okie From Muskogee” as you would a Social Distortion classic or a clever Henry Rollins ditty. Anything goes. (No Jonny B this year. That sucks.)

Arrival at the south shore of Jenny Lake is traditionally kicked off with a moving speech by Stanger, followed by snowball fights, polar plunges in the lake and, of course, occasional brief nudity. Food is up to individual riders, but can be prepared on trailered barbecue grills brought in by the strongest riders. After a hearty lunch the party tends to settle down. Folks wander the trails around the lake and delight in the unspoiled beauty of Teton National Park before peddling back to reality.

Based on another Stanger revelation, the 2012 Grand Teton No Motor is going with an optional theme. This year’s theme will be festive hats. I’m wearing a big ass tractor rim covered with gang graffiti. Others may want to go with something a bit more practical.

The essence of the Grand Teton No Motor is difficult to derive.

I think of it as a joyful band of gypsies, wandering on bicycles with no formal organization, characterized by riders shouting words of encouragement to one another laced with profanity and goodwill. A genuine camaraderie of old friends and new acquaintances who enjoy the gift of springtime in the Rockies and truly appreciate the experience of living near one of the most beautiful places on the planet.

That’s just my opinion. If this sounds like something you might be into, please join us and develop your own vibe about the event.

The ride begins at about noon Saturday at the Taggart Lake Trailhead parking lot on Teton Park Road off U.S. Highway 89, just a few miles north of Jackson Hole. All are welcome, but parents of young children should definitely consider this an R-rated activity. And be sure to bring clothing for every possible weather condition. Sometimes Old Man Winter dies hard.

One of the most likable kids you'll ever meet.

Last September we had a visitor. Alabama’s cousin Jake from New York was on his way to Seattle to look for work. Jake’s not from NY City mind you, he’s from Tupper Lake. That’s the depressed but beautiful little berg in Adirondack State Park, where Alabama spent her early years and where all her kin still live.

Jake was supposed to spend one night and be on his way. It took him eight days to continue his journey north after we hijacked the poor kid. We enjoyed his company that much. Alabama and Jake went on several outdoor adventures while he was here, and all the IF crew got to hang out and party with him as well.

Since then, Jake’s been back to spend Christmas with us, and we’ve met him up at Targhee to ski. After he moved to Seattle he somehow hooked up with another Tupper Lake transplant who was playing bass for the Acorn Project, a big time Bellingham, WA jam band that plays the festival circuit and has been around for over ten years.

We got to hang with the guys in AP because Jake was traveling with them when they played Targhee. It was a blast, and the guys in AP are hands down the best musicians I personally know. Jake started touring with Acorn, seeing the country, and meeting all sorts of folks at the festivals and gigs.

We heard through the grapevine Jake had a new girlfriend he had met at one of the shows, her name was Sunflower. Of course my first reaction was OMG, Jake hooked up with a fuckin’ hippie…Then the news came that Jake and Sunflower had broken off the Acorn Project tour and were traveling around the country living in the back of his truck.

And of course, my next reaction was OMG, Jake has become a fuckin’ hippie… It had been over two months without any real word as to how he was doing when we got a call. It was Jake; they were in town, what’s up?

Jake and Sunflower

So this week we had house guests. Sunflower was exactly what I expected; kinda tie-dyed, crunchy, beautiful, and young. What I didn’t expect was how much wisdom I would pick up from her over the next few days.

Flower has been on the road for nearly two years, following her favorite bands, seeing the country, and living a life free from the burden of material possessions. When I thought about it, it was perfectly logical for Jake to hook up with Flower; he too was on a journey of enlightenment and self-discovery.

I met Flower just after she had her first shower in two weeks, and she was like a puppy right after a bath. The pure joy she found in the simplest of things, things we all take for granted, was truly contagious. No negative comments, no “I wish I had that,” no real hint of classic American values, just a person seemingly happy to live day to day and experience life with an open heart and an open mind.

One night we were all sitting around drinking a few beers and she sheepishly asked if I would play some songs for her. Normally I wouldn’t even consider playing for a person who lives for music and has seen so many unbelievable performances. But Flower wasn’t about passing judgment or looking at me critically because I don’t play like a jam band guitarist.

I think it was probably the best solo set I’ve ever done. And I think she really enjoyed it.

Jake and Flower took off yesterday morning to continue their trek, I think they were headed north back towards Seattle. I said my goodbyes the night before. When I got home from work last night there was a drawing she had done lying on the coffee table. It was of me sitting in my big chair playing the guitar from the night before. On the back she wrote “Clarence’s wicked living room acoustic set. Love Sunflower.”

I learned a lot from Jake and Sunflower this week, even though Flower spoke very little about herself. When I was their age I was all about working and buying shit and amassing. I wish I had met a hippie before I went to college, maybe I’d be selling crystals and beads at some roadside stand outside Sedona in between festivals and shows.

Probably not, but the kids did impress upon me how little we consider the really important things in life on a day to day basis; kindness, love, friendship, appreciation, and just embracing life for what it should be; a collection of genuine experiences, not an accumulation of material possessions.

I met a hippie, and I liked it.

I’ve often said it takes a troubled person to create anything truly meaningful artistically. It doesn’t matter whether it’s fine art, literature, or music. It’s been my experience no one is moved by a painting of a happy little flower, or a verse about how thrilled the author is to be alive, or a song professing “I’m just so elated to be me,” unless of course you’re a fucking Osmond.

In that light, I haven’t been posting much because I really don’t have anything to bitch about.

With Romney getting the GOP nod, it’s an assured victory for Obama.

Whiskey Sass-Mouth gets the trophy for most improved band and we’re opening for one of my favorite acts of all time, The Utah County Swillers tonight.

I’m writing decent songs again.

The roller derby is finally here and one of my dear friends is down in Poky kicking ass so I get to live vicariously through her.

My kids are settled and happily living dream lifestyles.

My mom has settled into assisted living and has friends for the first time in 15 years.

I’m writing for a cool indie newspaper.

I have a fantastic group of friends who keep Alabama and I occupied every weekend.

I met some new friends who are the salt of the earth kinda people and are into the same music and bands I’m into. And we’re working together to create some kind of music scene here in Idaho Falls.

I’ve got to meet some of my biggest music heroes lately.

And I have the best job in the world…

See?

Happy people can’t create anything worth a shit when it comes to artistic expression. I’m sure some asshole will piss me off in the next few days and give me a reason to write.

Until then, I got nothing to bitch about and obviously, nothing to write about.

Lottery winner Jim Bob Joe Billy Wilson tattooed the date he won on his arm. That's just damned clever.

It’s the $640 million lotto drawing tonight. Alabama and I play the lottery every 12-15 years, so buying $5 worth of quick picks was a pretty big deal in the Worly house. To prep for the big event we made pulled pork tacos, bought a box of wine, we both took showers and used soap. No holds barred tonight folks, we plan on getting full of lottery spirit for the moment the dream makers draw those magical numbers.

Pulled pork… still makes me laugh every time I hear that.

The odds of winning $640 million based on five quick picks are 1:84,702,894,957,292,030,000,000. To put that in perspective, your chances are the same as if you walk out in your front yard, jump up as high as you can, and land on Mars.

Let’s just say, they’re not good.

But it ain’t about winning, it’s about planning out the things you’re going to spend all that money on and the adventures you’re gonna have and the changes in the world you’re gonna make. That’s the reason folks (occasionally) play the lottery, as opposed to people who play the lottery (with consistency) and live in doublewides, drive jacked up pick up trucks, think of a mullet as a fancy haircut, not an inbred fashion statement, and count on their monthly lottery income to make their doublewide rent.

So these are a few things I’m gonna do after I win $640 million:

To celebrate, I’m hiring AC/DC and Black Sabbath to play a private party for my friends at a fishing lodge in Alaska where we will drink and catch salmon for 5 solid days.

Hire a team of influential lobbyists to get the National Anthem changed to Parker and Stone’s “America: Fuck Yeah!”

Hire BlackWater to deport every member of the Tea-Party to Hungary.

Buy Paraguay, change name to Dave, resell Dave to Occupy Now folks for $1, have Michael Moore document “progress” of political and economic movement.

Buy FOX. Replace Fox News with Family Guy re-runs.

Establish a nationwide network of clinics where PETA volunteers can be humanly euthanized and fed to dogs and cats in animal shelters.

Corner the market on talk radio, go on Limbaugh and Beck, put both of them in a coma with bare hands, avoid prosecution by having $640 million.

Buy a missile silo in Nebraska equipped with working nuke, threaten to use it on Hollywood every time Paris Hilton, Snookie, Jennifer Aniston, or Justin Beaver make the news. If problem persists… use nuke.

Buy Makers Mark and turn into non-profit selling only to private lodge in Alaska… that I already own.

Give my closest friends $5 million each so I have someone to party with.

Murder honest hooker, cheap celebrity, and crooked politician with AK-47 in broad daylight. Use $640 million to prove American judicial system does not apply to those with money.  

Design and build ultra-subterranean vehicle and drill to center of earth, hold planet hostage with threat of molten magma on surface if UN doesn’t pay $1 million $1 billion.

Determine amount it will take for Ron Paul to shut the fuck up. Gladly pay amount.

Buy every vineyard on planet. Make wine only for friends. Force French to drink grape Kool-aid.

Buy Squadron of F-16′s, have hourly live fire flyovers just to fuck with neighbors. 

Buy Bank of America, donate all assets to cancer research. Execute upper management.

Reintroduce large grizzly population in Orange County California all at once, late at night.

Donate entire winnings to congress to help pay down national debt. Put .45 in mouth and pull trigger until it goes click.

As part of the new Idaho Tea Party dominated GOP's bring back personal freedoms campaign, women will be forced to under go an ultrasound imaging procedure for all to see what's really inside their uterus.

Over the past ten years or so I have gone to the Idaho.Gov legislative session to monitor the decline of frivolous legislation that gets served up to our over-worked Senators and Congressman for vote now that the new more conservative platform is less government, less government, less government.

Since the House and Senate have been overrun with freshman tea party ultra-conservatives – to the point the few remaining GOP moderates are jumping ship in a mass exodus to sanity island – and in November of 2012 Idaho’s legislature will have the distinction of being the first state completely controlled by Jesus loving tea party patriot ideals, it stands to reason these selfless public servants should have absolutely nothing to do this session except retract all our current laws that affect our personal freedoms, right?

Doesn’t less government mean less legislation and more personal freedoms? Isn’t this the tea party platform? Oh and taxes, fuck taxes, ain’t gonna pay taxes. Taxes are for liberal commies.

I took the time to count how many bills are in the system this year: 603

Six hundred and three bills ranging from limiting a corporations liability for asbestos exposure to it’s workers to forcing women who want to have an abortion take an ultrasound to make sure she knows there is a living being inside her and she is a murderous whore to the already enacted unenforceable ban on texting while driving.

It’s almost like the new ultra conservative legislature has even more laws than we have had in previous sessions, you know, back when the GOP dominated law makers were just really, really super conservative. How does all this legislation align with the tea party’s less government more personal freedom platform?

It’s like this, by less government, Idaho GOP ultra conservatives really mean more laws that will ensure your personal freedoms, freedoms like:

Ensuring you don’t have the right to choose to have an abortion.

Ensuring your kids pray in school. (To Jesus only of course)

Ensuring the gays aren’t trying to get married.

Ensuring corporations aren’t liable for the health of their workers.

Ensuring ranchers and farmers get their monthly welfare checks.

Ensuring lazy poor folk don’t get monthly welfare checks.

Ensuring your kids aren’t bothered with education so they can get a head start on the lucrative blue collar job market.

Ensuring science is soundly rejected and religion (again, Jesus only please) is accepted as the one and only truth.

Ensuring the elderly don’t have access to adequate healthcare, unless they have their own money.

Ensuring you can ride your four-wheeler through Idaho’s wilderness areas.

Ensuring enviro groups aren’t interfering with kindly businesses like Simplot and Monsanto’s ability to make a fair profit. 

Man, when I see this tip of the iceberg list of the personal freedoms and less government our tea party patriots are out there tirelessly fighting for us to enjoy, it brings a tear to my eye.

Thank you tea party patriots and thank God up in heaven he directed you to lead us!

Yep, this dog looks like a real Cujo. Good thing Brock shot him in the face with a .357. Might have licked one of his kids to death.

There was a story in the Pocatello news this week about some jackoff who shot a stray dog in his back yard with a .357 and then got arrested for animal cruelty and discharging a firearm in city limits. The dog took the round in the neck and ran off down the street bleeding to death. Neighbors called it in and the police followed the blood trial back to the jackoff’s house.

The jackoff’s name was Brock and he claimed the dog was a threat to his family. I would say the biggest threat to this guy’s family was a jackoff, named Brock, who was carrying a loaded .357 and cracking off shots in city limits at a stray dog.

I’ll never understand a coward’s mentality. You need a .357 to run off a stray dog? Dude, you’re a fucking pussy. Period.

Brock probably has a concealed weapons permit so he can legally carry when he goes to Albertson’s to buy his Coors Light and Tampax. Never know when someone might “threaten” his person by bumping into him in the feminine hygiene/light beer isle.

I hope the authorities are able to teach Brock a lesson in humanity.

On the other hand, there are definitely two sides to the animal care issue. This same week there’s an article about dog jerky being bad for your pooch. Yikes!

First of all, who buys dog jerky?

HELLO… it’s a fucking dog! They eat their own shit, lick their own/each others assholes, bark at everything/nothing, and hump each other more often than Mitt Romney humps Frank Vandersloots sweet, sweet money spewing blowhole.

I’ve been a dog guy all my life. My best friends have been dogs, in most cases, I’ve preferred the company of my dogs to that of most folks I’ve met. Dogs don’t lie or cheat or steal. They don’t have hidden agendas. In most cases, if you love a dog, it will love you back. Or at the very least they’re happy to see you when you get home because they think you’re gonna feed them.

I’m a guy who only goes to the animal shelter once every five or six years because I’ve never walked out without a dog under my arm. Hell, I live with three now, they’re a pain in my ass, but I have a soft spot for animals. I weep like an old woman when one of my dogs die.

But really, where do we draw the line?

I know folks who treat their dogs like they’re human beings. They buy $100 a bag dog food, feed them doggie vitamins, spend $65 a week on grooming, get their teeth cleaned every year…Jesus we treat our pets better than we treat each other in many cases.

I guess my take is that we should treat our pets humanely and do our best to give them a comfortable life, but within reason.I’m not dropping $350 a month so Rover can live to be as old as Joan Rivers.

I feel damned bad for those poor animals that wind up at the end of a chain all their lives or become abandoned or abused by their owners.

People are cruel, and for the most part, I like dogs a lot more.

I don’t have any answers, just one suggestion. If you can’t care for a pet throughout it’s life, don’t get one. They aren’t disposable, or at least, they shouldn’t be.

BTW: The dog in Poky underwent surgery and is fine. Still waiting for an owner to claim him.

I clearly remember my Mom telling me if George McGovern was elected president, I would be taken away to a camp, along with all the other kids in the country, where I would be forced to work for the Government and I would probably never see any of my family again.

You see, this McGovern fellow was a liberal, a kind of socialist if you will, basically a goddamned communist who hated America.

This was my indoctrination into conservative politics.

It was 1972, I was a scared shitless ten year-old, and my folks did the right thing for God and America; they marched right down to Falls Valley Elementary and cast their votes for GOP favorite Richard Milhous Nixon.

It was a landslide victory for conservatives across the country, but it turns out President Nixon had some problems with the law, granted, not as much trouble as his running mate – VP Spiro Agnew, who had to resign his office and plead no contest to tax evasion and bribery.

You would think with a name like Spiro you could trust a guy, who knew?

“Tricky Dick” Nixon finagled a pardon from the dimwit he chose to replace Spiro, who, in turn, wound up being president after Nixon resigned. That’s right, “President” Gerald Ford never even ran for the office of president until he was soundly beaten by that pacifist peanut farmer with the drunkass brother. Sometimes I get all nostalgic and misty. God I miss the days when assholes were assholes and the country wasn’t too fucking stupid to recognize them as such.

Looking back, this is what I took away from the 1972 election; we should be able to elect someone to the presidency without even looking at their political affiliation. It doesn’t really matter whether a candidate is running on a conservative or liberal platform, they’re all ruthless backstabbing corrupt subhuman maggots who will say or do anything to be elected. It’s been my experience that every politician on the national stage would eagerly slit their own children’s throats if they thought it would advance them .00005% in the polls.

So with this crystal clear logic in mind, it really doesn’t matter how we choose up sides to smell political armpits, all that matters is what the next presidential moniker will be.

For example, we should have never even considered electing a guy with a name like John Huntsman, sounds too much like a generic bottle of ketchup.

Newt Gingrich. I’m not so sure, what kind of is name is Newt? Sounds like the smartass fat kid who spent lots of time being stuffed into lockers in Jr. high and sniffing his sister’s panties when he hit high school. I know, that’s so gross. He probably got some half-assed liberal arts degree and pays transvestite hookers $1000/hr to kick him in the junk while he wears an adult diaper, sucks on a penis shaped pacifier, and cries mommy at the top of his lungs until he reaches orgasm. Yeah, now that I spell it all out, there is no way is this guy getting elected to anything except president of NAMBLA.

Ron Paul a.k.a. Ricky Bobby. Reasonable folks consider this guy an all around kook based on the fact he says and does absurd things that only a kook would do. If you’re one of those folks who’s says, “Some of the things Ron Paul says really make sense to me and he has my support,” well, let’s just say, two peas in a pod. His name sucks and that’s the bottom line here. You cannot have two first names and be taken seriously, just like you can’t vote no on every piece of legislation put before you while in office and be taken seriously. Ron stands a better chance of being admitted to the Blackfoot South mental facility than being elected president. Fucking Texans… always proving stupider, crazier and even more extreme is right around the corner. Why can’t we get by with 49 states?

Rick Santorum. OMG! Why this guy hasn’t dropped out of the race is a mystery to me. From Wiki: Santorum(san-TOR-um) 1. A frothy mixture of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the by-product of anal sex. I don’t know about everyone in the GOP, I mean, I’m sure Newt gets a tiny little boner every time he hears the word Santorum, but most Republicans who consider themselves somewhat conservative will never nominate a candidate named spuge or schmegma or any other disgusting sexually derived body fluid. Remember when Gary Semen ran against Bush back in 1988?  Rick Santorum will suffer the same fate, wiped away clean from the rectum of the GOP and thrown in the cheap motel trash can that is Pennsylvania.

Mitt Romney. Now there’s a fuckin’ moniker. President Mitt Romney. That shit gives me goosebumps, sounds like he could have QB’d for the 49ers back in the 70’s, or played lead guitar for Blue Oyster Cult, or maybe even been a fraternity president turned OB/GYN. Totally electable, he’s super rich and doesn’t give a shit about anything or anybody unless he stands to profit from it. This guy is a 1970’s GOP wet dream, like Nixon, but better looking and with even more money. And the biggest conservative bonus of all???  Some day he will be a God with his own planet!

He’s got my support, I’m gonna see if can land a position as a lower God, like Mercury or Moroni or Nephi, and maybe get me a moon or even a big asteroid with a posse of sister wives in the hereafter and call it: WorlyWorld.

I like how that sounds! I even have a campaign slogan for Mitt:

Romney 2012: Because I want my own moon or asteroid goddamnit

Although Romney's visit to Idaho Falls was brief, the Presidential hopeful made time to say hello to his old pal Frank Vandersloot.

There’s been plenty of blog fodder in the headlines the past week. I just haven’t felt the desire to write about anything because it’s so fucking depressing. Normally, I would be ripping on the Romney visit and going into rant about Mitt and Frank Vandersloot going down on each other in a forbidden orgy of sweaty man love and greed and money and Mormon conservatism.

But after the news broke that Vandersloot uses his vast financial resources to sue nearly everyone who dares poke fun at him, I ran like a guy with $87.23 in his savings account and took down every blog I’ve written for the past three years that had his name in it.

Yes, it really sticks in my craw. But as we all know, those with the money get first chair in the human centipede of life, and I’m afraid I’m way, way, way back towards the tail, so I best shut the fuck up and keep happily chewing.

Yummy!

Anyhoo, when I read the “news” on KIFI TV8’s website, which, by the way, appears to be programed and maintained by the Eagle Rock Junior High computer club, I always read the comments on the blurbs that pique my interest. I’m rarely disappointed with responses folks put up.Upon reading said responses,there’s no need to wonder why the country seems to be rocketing toward, and fully embracing, the same fate the Roman Empire suffered a thousand years ago.

Voter Enthusiasm Has Bonneville County Republicans Scrambling To Accommodate –

Commenter Chris replies:

“nuts.. morman votes morman.  morman president equals a dictator worse than the world has ever seen.  all for the sake of mormans. mormans help and support mormans.  mormans want to take over the world.  wonderful avenue..  mormans win”

Well said Chris, your District 93 education is a shining beacon of knowledge!

Local Schools Celebrate Reading –

Another gem from commenter Chris:

“all schools are within 5 feet of a morman church.. thank you to the USA.. separation of church and state at work! “

I get the feeling Chris doesn’t like living in a Mormon community, you’d think he or she would at least learn how to spell the name of the “religion” he or she appears to dislike so much.

Police: Woman Kicked Officers In Knees –

Commenter patriciaw55 replies:

“sorry too see something like this to happen . but i guess their lucky she didn’t kick some place eles”

Two thumbs up for punctuation and spelling Patricia! Let me guess, Hillcrest class of ‘98?

Wyo. Senate Committee Advances Welfare-Drug Bill –

Commenter wowwhatashock replies:

“i think it is a good idea for drug testing now not to be a jerk but lets add 1 more to that illegal’s that are not documented there are so many and family’s that are sharing houses and such but when i have to press 1 for english something is not right”

Dude, seriously, we should be drug testing you. Obviously you don’t have the ability to write using the English language so one can only assume you can’t speak it either.

Just a side note, every citizen in this country is on some form of welfare. Who the fuck do think pays for the roads you drive on, the infrastructure that delivers power to your home, your city water, public transportation… name it, every service we take for granted in this country is fully or partially subsidized by some level of government. So using Welfare-Drug Bill logic, every single American should be drug tested since we all suck the government teat on a daily basis.

Mormon Church To Warn Members Of Proxy Baptisms –

Commenter Ernie Tschikof replies:

“REALLY do you ppl think they need your blessings to get to heaven? NOT this is why you ppl have so many ppl in your cult you babtized any one with a pluse or try to. and any one who dies that dont belong  and try to make them your own. if i were a jew id take you ppl for everything and then some. what you ppl do is sicking and should be taken in to the court system.”

Yes Ernie, your argument is well thought out and structured appropriately; if you’re a fucking moron that is. Sadly, I have to agree with Ernie on this one, I’ve always called these proxy baptisms necrophilia of the soul. It’s weird, it’s creepy, and it just ain’t right.

Lost Snowmobilers Find Cabin, Survive Blizzard –

None of the usual dimwits commented on this story, but the article states it took a helicopter and a large search and rescue team to find these guys. Once again, who the fuck do you think paid for that? That’s right, the evil government. Why aren’t we drug testing these assholes? And if they test positive, I say we throw their asses in prison and make them pay back the cost of the rescue by picking up trash on the highway for $3.00 an hour.

That should seem reasonable to any right wing nut job who hates our government, right? Or maybe I just don’t fully understand who to discriminate against in our brave new conservative Christian world. Is it just minorities and the poor, or do dumbfuck drunken rednecks get lumped in there too?

I guess I’m losing my grip on who I should hate… Help me Mitt, help me Rick, help me Newt and Ron, the country and I need your sacred guidance. Tell us all who to hate!