Saturday, September 10, 2016

The Frump is putting half of Trumps supporters in buckets with unsavory names. That should surprise no one. She made a comment of Black Americans indicating that they must be brought to heel.

It appears it is becoming dangerous to ignore the Democratic party and to not agree with every thing they suggest. Cow pie’s.

dra-mama continues to believe in his pre-election theory – that America could be changed by regulation, not laws. His latest give away,  money, was a dozy. No receipts, no permissions from congress. The house sits on their collective thumbs and wonders what happened.

Easy. The purse they were suppose to be in charge of was ripped off and they didn’t even know it, let alone see it coming.

The Republicans are not only prudes, at times, they are stuffy over proud lifers in positions above their abilities. Or so it seems. Why not go out and meet some black fols and maybe some Chicanos.

I noticed that the Flint Hills has been designated a migratory bird zone. I’m not sure what that means, exactly. We’ve known for years that all kinds of birds make their way through this area, Tall Grass or no. I suppose the educated are just discovering what the rabble learned from native americans.

Get off the couch and outdoors, there’s a whole world out here.


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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