Evidence 101

EVIDENCE 101...Wherever you go, there you are...







Saturday, June 21, 2014

Fight Club

Yuri responded to my questions from a vast mountainous region, probably setting up his satellite communications right now so he has Wi-Fi in order to keep the discussion rolling. And OldNFO has some things to say without stroking himself out because he is wound up about these topics. Let's get down to brass tax, er....I mean tacks. Fire away YURI...

"Greetings from the Socialist Utopia of CanaDUH. (Ok, Russian Bear, I giggle snorted at that. I am a simple one of cornball humor)
 
Here's my answers to your questions.
1) Why not just pull everyone out of the Embassy for the time being? 

If Tom Clancy novels are correct, our embassy is the main source of human intelligence on the ground.  Closing them and pulling all of our people out would collapse whatever intelligence network we have developed.  Again this is assuming we have made the effort to build one in the first place.
 
LOL. My thoughts exactly, Yuri. I have found across the net in many small-minded regions that some Americans of liberal thinking have struck up the question on newspaper commenting boards. Duh...is my response, so I guess we won't get into a heated discussion over that one.

2) Are their oil reserves worth it?
 
Most Iraqi oil actually goes to Asia and India.  Our interest is in keeping a stable price for oil. If you are asking if it is worth risking lives to keep a stable price for oil, I would say hell-to-the-no.  It was never about oil to begin with.
 
Hmmm. Yuri, I think we could pry open a can of controversial worms here going off on a tangent line. A tangent line is one straying from the true subject at hand. Why do we care then about all this oil crisis and their oil reserves then? Are we not learning how to be more efficient here in the US. I mean the oil quantities coming out of North Dakota right now are astronomical in comparison to some in Rocky Mountain regions and Texas. There are some small rigs going elsewhere, but the main supplies are west. So, you gives a rat's tail about oil? Blow them up. Shut down their income. Helllerrrrr! I say you have to hit people in the balls. Who says we have to supply the world? Stop shooting them. Capture the oil!
 
And I agree oil is not the problem, but only collateral damage. Is it about arms control? Religion? Government power?  Why not let them conduct their civil war? Why? Why? Why?
 
3) What do they know that we don't know or don't get to  know? 
 
The President learns things the same way we do, by reading it in the paper.  At least, that is what he has told us repeatedly, and boy is he mad about it!
 
Ok. Good to know. (wiping snorted coffee off myself) Here I thought he was getting his intel from Biden.
 
4) Do we help Iraq secretly under the table? 
 
I don't think that's possible at this point. I heard that President Dronestrike is reviewing overhead images and preparing a target list.  Hearing that bit on the radio, brought to mind an old photograph of LBJ doing the same thing during Vietnam. A good leader gets the best people to fix a problem and gets out of their way.  So the man, who is a better speech writer than his speech writer, and a better policy wonk than his policy wonks, probably thinks he's a better military strategist than his military advisors.The same guy who traded 5 baddies for 1 alleged AWOL, has now proclaimed he's sending 300 advisors to the region.  So much for secrecy.
 
Yes. Vietnam has been a popular comparison to this crisis. America is too big to hide-look at our CO2 emissions-that isn't even doing it. Perhaps we misunderstood the definition of smoke screen. And most all the times we try to do things under the table,  it starts with a few gun trades and ends with troops on the ground. I don't know if we will ever be done with war-really. It seems to be a dinner table topic anymore rather than a historical event. Obama's arrogance is going to be a sinkhole in American government with shockwave effects later on. But 300 advisors, really? Where did he pull that number out of? His ass. It's a cloud front.
 
5) Another Iran issue?  
 
Another Clancy reference : Executive Orders - Iraq and Iran merge to become the United Islamic Republic.  Fiction could come true, this time with Syria included as well.
 
The U.I.R. Sounds like a warm fuzzy government conglomeration. (You, I, Are) Harmony. I loved Tom Clancy and his novels. Loved, loved. He was a brilliant author. R.I.P., Tom Clancy. Jack Ryan is HAWT and where is he now? Oh, yeah. Harrison Ford is relaxing in Wyoming while Chris Pine is the new younger version...another HAWT item. Are all CIA operatives good looking? Only good looking people can get spy shit done? Maybe Tom Clancy was a spy. Perfect cover.
 
I think there was a song about Iran...right? IRAN FROM YOU...Iran so far away hay hay. Yes, Flock of Seagulls. Maybe it was spelled a little different. And Iran is a girl?
 

 
6) Why won't foreign nations get the balls to announce to the world they are asking for our help and throw it out there?
 
You mean like the Ukraine did?  How has that worked for them so far?  (Sorry, the lack of leadership just pisses me off.)
 
Oh, Crimea a river. Just Putin it lightly.
 
7) What do you think our country is in for?  
 
Pain and anguish, mostly pain.
 
So vague. Like prickly cactus pain or porcupine pain?

8) Another war?
 
Well, only the dead have seen the end of war.

Yeah. I can't top that profound statement and not only is it profound, but gruesomely true. Thanks again, Yuri! I look forward to the next discussion.

So, come on, give us your best questions, opinions, and define what is going on here for reals. You don't care? Hmm. Perhaps you should. Life is about to change ugly again just when you thought things were going back to Pleasantville.


Friday, June 20, 2014

Kevlar Queen

Take a moment to remember Stepanie Kwolek. She pioneered Kevlar. Legacy of brilliance. 

(Photo credit: ABC news)


What she did for so many lives is just about the most amazing feat as a chemist I could dream up. Bravo, Stephanie Kwolek, may you rest in peace. 

You made read all about her HERE. 

Now...about those Goodyear tires...

U Topia-less Bitch

Utopia. Never going to happen, right? It's just a mythical creature many write about and imagine. Too many "ones" in the world picture to be able to come to a perfect place. What is "ones" exactly, you might ask? It is pronounced "owns", not like the singular word of one with an "s". Inanuts hell it is all due to too many hormones (pronounced whore moans) and testosterones (pronounced test aus ter owns) in the mix. Maybe. It's as good as anyone else's long winded theory.

So we have concluded that we will never be at our "Utopic state" (yes, that is a coin phrase) and so we do what? Go to war? Again?


My friend, The Russian Bear , (Yuri) has put forth some FOOD for thought about Obama's latest decisions on Iraq. Harry Tunnell's, (Col., US Army) letter circa 2010 (linked) is currently posted on Michael Yon's site.  This letter was written almost four years ago.  I think events today are a result of the policies and leadership, or lack thereof, in foreign affairs.

We shook our impotent fists at these guys when they engaged in genocide in Syria, and scolded them not to cross that "red line".  Did our leadership really think they would take seriously a man who did not lift a finger to help his ambassador to Libya?

We failed the negotiate a Status of Forces Agreement with Iraq that would have kept a stronger US presence.

If we, as a nation go to war, it should be to win.  Define the enemy, destroy the enemy.  Accept nothing but the enemy's unconditional surrender.  We have failed to do this in both Afghanistan and Iraq, and I do not expect the American people will want to continue fighting.  We've fought two wars in Iraq in the past twenty years.  "Do we get to win this time?" - John Rambo".


I encourage you to check out the letter. It is quite interesting, insightful, and chalk full of details. Browse around the net and come back. Answer Yuri's questions and have a shot at mine.  Here are my questions posed to all of you? Do you agree or disagree. 

Yes, I made this funny Biden meme all by myself

Now, my opinion? I can't make any rhyme nor reason out of our Commander in Chief's decisions lately on foreign policy. I think we get our noses into too many butts where we don't belong and don't get involved in the worthwhile causes. Why not just pull everyone out of the Embassy for the time being? Are their oil reserves worth it? What do they know that we don't know or don't get to  know? Do we help Iraq secretly under the table? Another Iran issue? Why won't foreign nations get the balls to announce to the world they are asking for our help and throw it out there? What do you think our country is in for? Another war?

We wait with baited breath for your discussion. Rock it!

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

The Mandit

With Bug gone for the summer, the house is quiet. Except for me hustling around getting things picked up and cleaned after her tornado departure, it is vewy, vewy quiet. Even the dogs are lazy and moping around. I'm sure it doesn't have anything to do with it being 90 degrees with 3000% humidity. But it doesn't. I have air conditioning. No matter how many people pshaw away a bond with an animal, I know it's true because I have experienced it more than one time. They always know when you are sad. They always know when you are sick. They celebrate with you when you are happy. AND they know you, no matter how long you are away. When Bug called me last night, Moose heard her loud voice and ran over to me, nudging the phone, then put his head on my shoulder and I let him listen to the conversation.

After watching with Television Glued Eyes my beloved Longmire, I went to bed. Television Glued Eyes is a syndrome which occurs from becoming addicted to The Walking Dead, Longmire, and Homeland. Sometime during my short snooze, Moose jumped up on the bed and laid on my feet. I was too tired to care. He curled up into a ball resembling a chihuahua and went to sleep, snuggling next to me.

It's amazing how a full grown German Short Haired Pointer can make himself small and tiny. Kind of like cops when you need to meld into the scenery behind a bamboo tree for cover from flying bullets. We were lonely and pouting for lack of Bug, but it wasn't inappropriate attention for each other. No spoons were involved.

It was around midnight when Moose started to growl. I told him to stop, but he continued. Expecting to see him staring out the window at some squirrel on a wire or hopping from limb to limb or torturing him from afar, I was surprised to see him with his head alert looking into the hallway. He did not listen to my repeated attempts to shush him.

Out of the corner of my right eye, I saw a dark shadow pass by my doorway and go into Mady's room. It was a shadow man type figure, black transparent, cloak, and fast. Or at least I thought it was kind of transparent. I felt it was manly. Hmm. Could it be the Serial Killer? Definitely the right color, but wrong shape. And he was never into cloaks.
Art by Fargo

I was seeing things now. Both doors had been locked long ago, so no one got in or I would have heard them, especially if they tried to get in through a window. And who would break into some one's house dressed in a cloak? Super Bandit? Jack the Ripper?

I was no sooner deciding to get out of bed. I needed a weapon for the Masked Mandit, as I call him. Because was it really a man or a bandit? Or both? At the same time reaching for my gun, Moose startled me again. He sat up and barked and growled, still staring into the hallway. I had not taken my eyes off the direction he was snarling.  His teeth were bared and he was intent on alerting me to The Boogie Man, aka: The Mandit.  I did not see anything nor anyone moving. In my t-shirt and freshly painted nails (Fargo self pedi and mani) with Glock in hand, I cleared the Harry Potter House to no avail.

Even though no one was there, the hairs on the back of my neck were standing upright. The Hinklemeter was up at full throttle. I'm no dummy. Dogs don't just snarl and get aggressive for no apparent reason. It was an unsolved mystery. Maybe we will discover more tonight. Hopefully it was just a one time incident. Maybe my dog needs to see a therapist. Can dogs turn schizophrenic? Paranormal anyone?

Maybe I need to call Amy and Steve.
Photo Credit: The Travel Channel

Friday, June 13, 2014

Coming Attractions...

Here is an excerpt from the new book...The Boogie Man Is My Friend: The Rookies...


“You may like my shoes, but be glad you never had to walk in them.” -Fargo



I ONCE TOLD A CITIZEN THOSE EXACT WORDS WHEN SHE WAS MAKING FUN OF COPS BEING LAZY AND TELLING ME THE JOB WAS ALL GUNS AND FUN. SHE HAD TO ADD ANOTHER SMART COMMENT WHILE TRYING TO GET MY GOAT ABOUT “WORKING ALONGSIDE HOT MEN IN UNIFORM MUST BE TOUGH.”  SHE WAS A TOOL. THE BEST YOU CAN DO WITH A HO (ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF HER CAREER CHOICE) IS GIVE A HER A TRICKY SENTENCE TO PONDER OVER FOR A FEW DAYS. AND SO I DID.

COPS SEE PERSONS FROM ALL WALKS OF LIFE. AS THE YEARS WORE ON, THE MORE DEVIANT A PERSON WAS IN A CASE, THE MORE HE OR SHE FASCINATED ME. THE MORE BIZARRE, THE MORE I WANTED TO BE ON SCENE. EXTRAORDINARY BECAME THE NEW ORDINARY. I WROTE DOWN ALL THOSE EVENTS-SOME ORDINARY, SOME NOT SO.  WHAT DOES THAT MEAN SINCE MY DEFINITION OF ORDINARY MIGHT NOT BE THE NORM? I GUESS YOU WILL HAVE TO READ THE BOOK TO FIND OUT. EACH ENCOUNTER WITH EVIL ADDS A PIECE TO THE WALL POLICE OFFICERS PUT UP AROUND THEM. SOME MIGHT REFER TO OUR WALL AS THE OUTER SHELL. WHAT’S GOING ON IN THE INSIDE?

THE MOST DIFFICULT THING FOR A POLICE OFFICER TO DO IS TALK ABOUT HOW THEY FEEL BEHIND THE SCENES, ON SCENE, AND THE THOUGHTS ABOUT THE IN BETWEENS. OFTEN THESE CONVERSATIONS ARE RESERVED FOR THEIR MOST TRUSTED LAW ENFORCEMENT PARTNER OR NEVER SPOKEN. EVEN SPOUSES ARE SELDOM AFFORDED THE DETAILS.

BY EXPOSING THE INNARDS OF OUR PANDORA’S BOX, I GUESS IT MADE US FEEL WEAK BECAUSE WE WERE NEVER ALLOWED TO SHED THE OUTER SHELL. WE COULD NEVER TELL THE PUBLIC HOW WE REALLY FELT, BUT STAND A NEUTRAL GROUND. OUR SUBJECTIVE THOUGHTS HAD TO BE REPRESSED TO MAINTAIN PEACE WITH AN OBJECTIVE RESOLUTION. WE COULD NEVER PLEASE EVERYONE AND MOST TIMES IT WAS A THANKLESS JOB, BUT WE LOVED IT ANYWAY. BUT WHAT DID WE REALLY THINK? ISN’T THAT WHAT EVERYONE WANTS TO KNOW?

                           Photo credit: Zach Galifianakis Meme on Facebook




Thursday, June 12, 2014

The Federation

Today they let the federal prisoners out and they all came to VBS. Four of them. I knew we were in trouble when they waltzed into the church with all black hair and clothing. One was real cool with a bandanna and Lt. Dangle sunglasses. I guess that is how they dress gangster and Goth in the near south. LAME-O. It took all my might not to laugh at them. At best they reminded me of Squiggy from Laverne & Shirley. For a second in my mind, Fargo almost came out and said something Popo sarcastic. God made me contain myself.

They tried each and every one of us and we were fried, upset, and had to raise our voices. The minister showed an authoritarian side to him. I think it mostly insulted him when the federal prisoners were talking while he was talking. I was most upset they were fondling each other in front of the little ones in the sanctuary. Yep, they were on my radar.

Baby mamas brought their two year olds again which were very disruptive. Instead of only Moon River Jedidiah, who did hold his pants up today but screamed the entire night, we had Isaac the Chatterbox, Gabby Abby, and Hannah the Banana.

The sad thing is, Liz and I discussed the rotten ones should leave as they were such a deviant group and bad influence on the others who chose to follow their rotten ways rather than turn away because they were beckoned to do so by peer pressure and hormones. The younger teens had nothing to do with them, but The Federation took the older teens to their cave of evil.

Church is supposed to help the oppressed and the misguided and never turn away a soul. Well, the church person that decided to help the deviants should be tasked with them and not able dump them on us the last two days of VBS.

Bug did not have fun and she was disgusted. Many kids complained to me and to Liz about The Federation's behavior.

They weren't the only drama trauma. They were just the new gang in town.

My little dude with the speech and stuttering problems beat up another small ornery kid. Ok. Jacob deserved it because he isabratandifhewasmykidIwouldsowhoophisass, but Dwayno was really naughty and gave him a skinned up face out on the basketball court which is gravel. Bob turned them over to the minister who turned them over to me. Dwayno lied through his teeth to the point he disappointed his cousin so much that his cousin, Eric, would not talk to him anymore. I put the brakes on the lies and we had a talk about that. He was a pathodislogical liar. That means he lies went down all paths and had no logic as to when and where he would lie or about what. Even if he was caught red handed by 10 people, cameras, DNA, and audio tape, he would still lie. I told him he would make a good Bill Clinton. It went over his head.

Eric yelled at Dwayno while he tried to lie to me. Eric walked off and said he was "done" with Dwayno. Dwayno was really hurt by this but I thought it was a good lesson for him. He sat with me the rest of the night and he actually was enjoyable. Me thinks he has no discipline at home and has also suffered his speech disorders because no one worked with him. He is a smart kid and his speech embarrasses him and he has a lot of trouble talking. Especially for an 11 year old. It is really hard to understand him. He looks down while mumbling words and skipping over them because he can't say them and has trouble reading. His stuttering is worse when he gets excited. I really feel sorry for him. If we didn't have so many kids to supervise, he would be one I would like to work with one on one.

Frankie made a point to circle the sanctuary and seek me out. He came over to where I was seated and said, "Miss K. Hi, Miss K. How are you?" I looked up at his sweet chubby face and bright smile. I so wanted to pinch his cheeks. I said, "Frankie, I have missed your sunny face. I am well. How are you?" He lit up like a Christmas tree and went back to his group. He melted my heart and took all the frustration away. At least for that moment. I lurve him.

That is until the federal prisoners started stroking each other in front of me. I got so mad I told the girls to move in my row. I think they knew I meant business on my face and from my gritted teeth speech because they got upright lickety split and sat at attention next to me the rest of the program.

As I drug myself through the door to my house, Bug asked me what "foe" meant in the bible story today.

ME: Well, in my case, it would be the rotten kids today. I'm so tired. They were my foe. My enemy. I will not go quietly into that good night! Grrr. Charge! I will defeat them!

BUG: Mom? Are you OK?

ME: Yeah. In the story it meant God's enemies.

BUG: Ok.

If I had any alcohol right now, I would so take it as my medicine and go nighty nighty.
I love the rotten, ungrateful kids. I love the rotten, ungrateful kids. I love the rotten, ungrateful kids.
Photo credit: Pinterest Amy Lee
I wonder if I could sell their church selfies they posed for on eBay and use the money to fix the church roof that suffered damage in the last storm. We might make money on their porn pictures from their cell phones as well. There has to be a market for all that. Oh yeah, that might be a crime. You know, try to tell a teenager that taking naked pictures of themselves and passing them around and passing around their friend's naked pictures is distributing child pornography and exploiting children. It's real effective when the teenager you are talking to is toting her 2 year old and she is 16.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Fargo and the Model Prisoners

Because I have been blessed with so many angels in my life, I try to pay things forward if I am able which at this point in my life is by work or good deeds, not so much of my deeds are financial helps because the budget is tight. So it would come to be in a church meeting, I was asked to help again with Vacation Bible School. Last year I was tasked as the leader for the 11+ group. They ate my lunch.

My vision of exemplary church going kids was crucified the first day as I looked around to see a mixture. I had 5 well mannered kids versus 15 of the not so. In fact, I am pretty sure grandmas got tired of their grandchildrens' antics and sent them off to VBS to have a break or a repentance. Did I say enough times they ate my lunch?

Back to the meeting. With big smiles and hopes on their faces, they were eager for my response as a resounding "yes" when they asked me about the teenagers again. How could I refuse? All the congregation members turned in their pews to share in the glorious relief they were prematurely feeling because they were certain I would not refuse the minister's daughter's request.

I said, "no thank you" at least 5 million times in my head and rearranged a nice question and sentence about how it would be nice to try something different and mix us up a little. But all that God let come out was a "sure" and "I'll take the wild ones." Everyone in the church sighed in stereo and all their shoulders dropped in relief.

Today was day three.

The 20 teenagers multiplied to 26. It was like herding ants.

On the first day, all the students from last year were quite deflated when they saw me. I smiled and nodded and marched through them in true drill sergeant format. It was even more effective when I patted the naughty boys on the shoulder and gave the naughty girls my famous "my eyes are on you" symbol. I Fargo flicked the mouthy one as I passed him and said, "Shhh. Listen please."

Oh, yeah. My group rocks. Even the minister is impressed by the behavior of my group. It is not without it's own unique drama. I try to hide it so next year someone will volunteer for the big kids and I can have some little angels to supervise.  I told Liz, another team leader,  we would fake 'em out. She sometimes helped me in between her other church duties. Liz looked at me funny and I clarified I was speaking of the congregation, not the kids. She nodded in affirmation but I think I confused her. Sometimes my humor goes over the church members' heads.

As an example of the Lord's work I am doing, I have to separate the oldest boy from two girls who think they should be acting out the role of concubines in the Promised Land. Then there is the one boy who is disruptive and refuses to participate in anything. He is anti-Jesus anything and was forced to be there. I have so marked his grading and I told him I would not make him do anything but I was sure glad he was just present in the Lord's house. Yes. I say it every time around him when he tells me "no" with my fist raised to the sky in Madea fashion. I also walk by him and tell him I am praying for him. Now, this is not in anyway making fun of church. I am trying to get through to him that we are enthusiastic. Tomorrow is a different approach to throw him off. It will be silence.  I will ask him once and walk on.  I am just waiting until Saturday when the parents come to the program and see his progress or lack of it. It is apparent he lacks some supervision and has no respect for adults. Today he walked off when I was talking to him. This did piss me off inside but I was happy on the outside. I need my uniform. Just for a do-over moment with some of these kids.

I have my model prisoners which I cherish and give them high fives and atta-girls and -boys and cheer them on as much as possible. The ones that try so hard get extra "pump up the volumes." You have to give them slightly more positive reinforcement than negative to keep it on the level according to psychology 101 and break them down and build them up.

There are times Bug is embarrassed by her mother. Especially during the tug of war when I was running up and down the line of my kids on the one end, yelling and cheering and stopping at the biggest kid and screaming, "Joey, dig in!!!!!" yelling like a true Viking warrior. I got a little excited for them to win.

Bug asked me quietly if I could NOT do that again. Bug is well behaved and a model student. I can't really complain. She is also helping the camp leader off and on.

Yesterday she heard one of the girls tell another girl our camp leader was a bitch. It hurt Bug's feelings because she really likes the lady and told the girls they were rude and then later told me Danielle called Miss T a "b". Drama. Of course Danielle is a church going kid with a streak of mean. I can't stand her. She has stayed over at my house a couple times too many and is not allowed again.

Danielle had the balls to ask me if she could spend the night. I said she could not because I was working and Bug could not have anyone over without supervision. Danielle loudly stated for God and all the land, "Why not? Come on. You are always gone the last times I came over." Boy was I PISSED. Instantly raised my cockles ( cockles and shells...cockles and shells...(new Fargo word substitution for hackles). I don't even know what those are (LIAR! PURPOSEFUL MISUSE OF THE WORD because it sounds like cock!) and I hope they have nothing to do with a penis, but it is the word that spewed from my fingers. I said with gritted teeth, "Danielle, that is not true and you know it. I said no." She insisted on Friday. I did not answer. After I thought about it, I thought the silence might send the wrong message so I told Bug to tell Danielle if the subject came up that she could not come over because we had too much going on. So Bug told her. Bug and I talked about it because at first, I thought she put Danielle up to it. She said with a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Momma. I didn't want her to stay over."

The rest of the night, Danielle would purposely sit next to Bug and turn her back to her in the pew, in the chairs, outside. It was obvious and so childish. I watched Bug and she smirked and went to help some younger teens with projects. I could not be more proud. We discussed it in the car later and I told her I was sorry Danielle was acting childish and mean. Bug said, "I don't care, Mom. It was kind of funny." She really is growing up. Girls and drama.

In the church, the minister's grandson was flirting (nicely and properly) with Bug. She was smiling. He is very cute and a very nice farm kid. His dad is also a minister. I teased her about it. "Mom, you noticed that? (tee hee) We are only friends. He is nice." Again, she is showing some good character.

T-Bone as I call him is another one who doesn't want to participate. He is a hardened felon in the making. I was getting a jolly big grin out of writing down, REFUSED, on all his events. He was off playing basketball in the church yard. There came a time when I checked out and stopped pressing the issue of making him join the group. Of course, the concubines tried to follow him but Sister Mother Mary No Fun (Fargo) put a stop to that.

In the midst of all this organized chaos, we have Frankie. Frankie is my favorite and he is the cutest kid ever. Angels now sing in stereo, "Ahhhhh" and ascend overhead. He is 9. He loves me. I love him. He waves to me and says, "HELLO, MISS K! MISS K, HELLO!!!" He is chubby, cute, and wears glasses. I lurve him. He is also my neighbor and rides by on his bicycle and asks me 20 questions about flowers as I work in the garden. One day he will be a superstar. He and all his brothers are wonderful kids. They are my salvation at VBS.

Then we have the oldest girl of the teenaged group who is so sweet and nice, but has been left to take care of all her siblings, including the 2 year old obnoxiously wild Jedidiah,  her mother dumped off just to have a break. Yes, VBS has an age limit and while we are good, we have no one to handle the two year old Bible verse memorizing genius types or even the wild naughty future ones.

I will refer to the older teen as Rose because she is one and I don't know if her mother realizes what a good kid she is or how much she tows for the family while her mother works diligently on welfare. The family has no running water, electricity, or gas and pretty much camp in a home their grandmother willed to them but it is not neat and clean but a shining example of "squaller." Apparently, in Indiana you can live like that with 6 young children without Family Services taking your kids away. The Amish ruined it, I guess. However, the Amish do it right and are so resourceful. I could go on with praise about their genius and spirit. They also have a lovely peace with God. Perhaps they "get it" better than most and truly have the utmost relationship with God.

Now back to the "squaller." I won't go into the four fires the boys have started in their lifetime and how many residences they have burned. But anyarsonistsinthemakingandunattendedchildren, Rose is a grand special girl and I hope someday she is blessed with a treasured life where she can be herself.

After our rendition of hard labor in the games department where the fastest time hauling a backpack of bricks through tundra, walking with the burdened load through winding roads in the desert, and over hard rocks with bare feet and grinding sand-the astounding time was 36 seconds. NO, I did not make up the game. I surely would have had them on a Crossfit course or in a chain gang until they were worn out so they could listen to the minister's bible discussions. I did think the first day's tug of war was spectacular, however.

As we were instructing the big kids to go inside the church because the little kids were coming outside, we heard the loudest girl screams-the kind that pierce your ears. I looked and most of the screams were coming from boys and maybe a few girls. Rose was running toward Olin's black truck.

There was 2 year old Jedidiah up on the bumper of the pickup, pants down, pissing on the tailgate in front of God and everyone, letting it splash back on him and run down to his tennis shoes. The little ones screamed and ran like the people in the movie The Birds.

I can't wait until they go home and tell mommy and daddy they saw a penis at church.

Liz said to me, "Oh, crap, that is Olin's truck," while covering her mouth.

I leaned over and said, "I think it is just pee." (big sigh) Rose doused the truck with her bottle of drinking water, pulled up Jedidiah's pants, red in the face,  and shuffled on down into the church. No foul. Good thing it was about to rain. Again.

Yep. Go Jesus!

Sunday, June 8, 2014

I'm Not The Caboose

I have been riding the train to Crazy Town. The conductor is a boob and although I have pulled down the handle to get off, he refused to stop the train. Hopefully, the will stop heading toward dysfunction or derail at an oasis spa retreat place.

My timelines are off by months but there is light at the end of the tunnel! Book Three of The Boogie Man series is on hold. So...Book Four is rounding the corner...just need to get through the tunnel and broken laptop phase. Here is the cover and back text for you to browse. Yes, it's crazy and quirky like me.
 I will give you the text here, so you don't have to strain your eyes or use a magnifying glass:  "Many people have asked me over the years if being a police officer was difficult. My short answer was and is always "no". During my career in law enforcement I think my better responses may have evolved over the years from a description of "police work is a learning curve" to "police work is automatic." The latter answer made me pause and think once it spewed out I may have sounded like an ass.  The old man who had asked me the familiar question who received that answer was puzzled. I guess I had been doing it for so many years that the work had become automatic, but not as a negative connotation.   I decided that was really a crappy sounding answer and most people probably would not understand its meaning to me, so he was the last person to hear it. To me, automatic meant it was a part of me- it was who I was (in true Popeye speak.)

As the years wore on, the more deviant a person was in a case, the more he or she fascinated me. The more bizarre, the more I wanted to be on scene. Extraordinary became the new ordinary. Police work truly is the front row seat to pure entertainment. I wrote down all those events-some ordinary, some not so.  What does that mean since my definition of ordinary might not be the norm? I guess you will have to read the book to find out.

Kathryn Loving is a former peace officer with the Casper Police Department, Casper, Wyoming. She worked for over 15 years as a Wyoming peace officer and held assignments as detective and patrol officer with specialties as a hostage negotiator, field evidence technician, field training officer, mounted patrol officer, and team princess.

She and Wyoming Division of Criminal Investigations Special Agent Matt Waldock, and District Attorney Mike Blonigen brought to justice the first bodiless homicide conviction in the state of Wyoming in 2006. Her biggest accomplishments were investigating crimes against children and bringing their predators to justice. The characters in her books from The Boogie Man Is My Friend series are based upon her life as a police officer. "

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Cancer Sucks Balls

I apologize for the long intermission. Life is going way too fast, that I am catching everything on the downslide. Yikes. Otis has been fighting The Cancer hard this week. I have family visiting. For the last three weeks, I have been working on amping up my exercise to get me back into Tough Mudder shape which is going to take an act of Xena. It is a long road and the older I get, the more of a challenge it is to get strong. Beat me. In my mind, I am fast. On Earth, I am turtle speed. With all these happenins' jumbled together, my humor is off the charts and warped as usual. Let me share my Facebook posts with you so you understand my mind channeling. Put your seatbelts on...

 

I have to end with a laugh, always with a laugh. It's Ode to Otis Day...hug a dog.