Tuesday, January 12, 2016

One would think, reading this blog from time to time, that I’d fix the dates on the entries from last week. I mean, with all the hate I manage to rain down on various and sundry.

Maybe later.

Right now I have this thing with Rand Paul. Him with a job in Congress and running for another job in Congress, and for the White House. A greedy, greedy man there. He’s also declining to sit at the kiddy table at the debates, saying that his election campaign is better than that.

Hey! Dude. The campaign might, in some eyes, be better than that; but, from the position you hold in the cut off criteria the campaign is backing a guy that is not that superior.

Besides, that woman whose name I can never remember is smarter than most of the field, and gets her point across better. She’ll use the kiddies table. I cannot say I blame you, I suppose, her being there would certainly dampen anything you’d come up with.

I’ve had two days to get over the disappointment of the Redskins losing. I’m preparing mightly to rain hate down upon the Redskins Draft Picks. I cannot let them get away without my expertise.

No way.

Of course, I lament the lost opportunity for bionic operations on the injured and weary players the Redskins erroneously keep for next year. Grump my way through pre-season by ignoring all the pre-season games, saturate myself in NASCAR and try with a great deal of success, I’m happy to report, not thinking of football all spring and waken from my pre-season charged with bile, which I can sprinkle on the K.C. Chiefs, the Dallas Cowboys and the Broncos without discrimination while wondering if the Oakland team, the St. Louis team or even the team that should get the eviction notice, the Chargers, will get a venue change.

So I have some time, like two or three weeks, to store up hate for the Super Bowl teams, whoever they maybe, and save up for the neighbors conversation with the enduring response: “Yeah. But your team ain’t the Redskins. They don’t belong in the Super Bowl.”


From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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