Look out JK Rowling!

I think there is almost two dozen copies of my final draft floating around out there in paper form and word files.

So far, the feedback has been great. But the really tough ones should be coming back soon. I’ve a cousin who was a career editor, and he’s going to pillage and burn my manuscript like vikings descending upon an unsuspecting monastery. Not that I’m a  terrible writer, very far from it… but every time I open the document to print it, I’ll skim along and see something that I don’t like or some pesky error.

Yesterday I realized I capitalized Father in the middle of a sentence.

Argh… stupid newbie me.

When asking for honest reviewers who would shred my book apart on Facebook, I also stated that it had only a dozen swear words and nothing risque, because I want my kids to be able to read it eventually.  Then, right before I printed it off for my 14 year old nephew, I ran a word search and realized I had 25 shits, 19 damns, and 1 asshole.

Which is kind of funny to say out loud.

Anyways.

It took pretty much zero effort to cut out over half of them without looking like I was intentionally cutting out where a swear word should go.

Instead of, “I don’t give a shit.” I could use, “I don’t care.” Works just as well without the whole, “Oh foyer, I burned the darned muffins’ lameness/obviousness.

Speaking of my 14 year old nephew, my sister-in-law told me this today:

“Micah has already read to page 30, and when I asked him about it, he replied, “it has cowboys, and monsters, and barn burnin’s, and bar fights. It may possibly be the greatest book I’ve ever read.”

So, obviously I’m going to take the Young Adult genre by storm as well as the Fiction/Awesome/Pew Pew genres.

Look out JK Rowling….

Toxic Masculine Cowboys with Colt Peacemakers are going to smoke-check your Prepubescent Wizards with Bent Magic Twigs.

Question – What spells can deflect 250 grain .45 bullets traveling at 1,000 feet per second?

Answer – None of them.

 

If you get the opportunity, you should always kill your siblings off. (And how to go from Beast to Kitten in 5 seconds.)

My little brother moved from NC to Minnesota about a year ago. Since it snows year round, I don’t know if he has realized it’s been a year. He’s still waiting on spring…

But within that time span, I think he’s been in at least two fist fights and last week was pulled over three times during a single ten mile drive home.

Because, apparently, in Minnesota it’s illegal to drive while Diabetic unless your doctor has sent in a note to the DMV that you are healthy enough to operate a motor vehicle… which is strange. The doctor didn’t send it the note in, thus he got pulled over, given a ticket, then pulled over twice more for the same thing before making it home. (That’s what he gets for driving home at 2 am in a snow storm when no one but law enforcement is on the road)

After that he took to the buses while waiting on the DMV records being worked out, and some goon tried to snatch and run with his backpack near a bus stop. Except it was strapped across his chest instead of over a shoulder.

Which started fight number two.

I mentioned to our dad that he was on his way to becoming the most wanted Southerner in the Mid-West. And he replied that the wanted posters would say ‘Blue Ridge Kid’.

So, my little brother is going into the sequel with that moniker.

(I’m going to find a humiliating way to red shirt him.)

As for the ‘Beast to Kitten’ part…

I’ve discovered the rowing machine at the gym last week. Once I figured out how to get my uncoordinated 6’3″ frame strapped in and how to operate it without looking like a goon – I started using it to end every workout. (5 minutes = 60 calories. Good stuff.)

And I’ve enjoyed it… I hit 500 meters at 1:59 on the highest setting and pretty much thought I was going to die before I could get my feet unstrapped.

Anyways – On Monday I was four minutes into my rowing, and a lady sat on the machine beside me and started rowing at a slightly faster pace. And rowing isn’t real quiet, especially when you’re three feet apart. You hear the wheel turning inside as the row-handle-thingy is pulled.

The sound created the feeling similar to walking across a parking lot and someone driving by blaring music. You have to force your body to not start diddy-bopping along in rhythm.

That’s how I felt with rowing next to her. And I figured if I started to speed up, she’d think I was being a show off or something by rowing harder than her. (Because I have a penis, and you know how people without penises view people with them….)

Anyways – After a miserable minute, I jokingly told her I was having a hard time not syncing with her speed because she was going faster than me.

Her response?

“Oh, I’m not going fast. I just thought you were injured.”

So… that hurt.

Happy Birthday to ‘the beast’.

Our English Mastiff is pretty epic.

We rented for 5 years before we bought our house and decided to get the dog we finally wanted. At first we wanted a Dogue De Bordeaux.. or French Mastiff as we unpretentious American’s call them. Like Hooch. (Which took me until last year to realize why he was named Hooch… Sigh.)

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But their life spans are around 7 years, and we didn’t want to do that to ourselves or our kiddos. Instead, we went with an English Mastiff that live a few more years.

Even from birth, he was pretty big. When we brought him home, at 12 weeks old, he was 17 pounds already. And obviously, super cute.

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Then he grew up. Real fast.

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He’s also a giant baby.

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He tolerates our rambunctious two year old with gentleness… and she’s pretty much a future UFC fighter already. (Fight Club has nothing on changing her diaper.)

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If dog’s could take Selfies – This would be what they look like. With hash tags like #FavoritePet #Tailpuller #Stinkybottom #HumansofInstagram #NeuteredandLovingIt

Happy Fourth Birthday Bear. Thanks for being you.

 

That’s not an earthquake you’re feeling…

It’s the rumbling of tens of thousands of standard capacity magazines rushing across the border into California by the dump truck load.

After NINETEEN YEARS, the ten round magazine limit has been overturned. Californians who own guns (Seriously – WHY do you live there?), can now own standard capacity magazines again. Praise Jesus and Buy Cheap/Stack Deep!

(I think Magpul just hit their sales goals for the year this week alone.)

If you haven’t read the court order – it’s one of the most savage things I’ve read. The  order ends with this:

“This decision is a freedom calculus decided long ago by Colonists who cherished individual freedom more than subservient security of a British ruler. The freedom they fought for was not free of cost then, and it is not free now.”

– Honorable Judge Benitiz. 3/29/19.

** The Democrats of California are fighting back though. There is a ‘STAY’ injuction on the overturning of the ban. As of today, April 5th at 5PM – The ban goes back into effect. Anything purchased prior is grandfathered in, even if it hasn’t been delivered yet.**

FB memories is the gift that keeps giving.

Having been on FB since 2004 there are a lot of rather awkward things that pop up in my Memories. I typically delete about a third of them because they are inappropriate or embarrassing, then share the other third because they are also embarrassing but hilarious. (The remaining third is just boring.)

Anywho.

This popped up from a year ago today and has aged extremely well.

If I recall correctly, this was right after the Parkland shooting and CNN ambushed Dana Loesch with a bunch of liberal kids who screamed about her murdering children and having blood soaked hands. (I bet their teachers were so proud.)

***

If the millions of NRA members were half as bad as the left paints them, this country would have been burnt to ash decades ago. And those of you, in your ignorance or malice, who are pushing to restrict gun rights – Would be huddled under your blankets, clinging to your teddy bears, and fervently praying the NRA doesn’t notice you wetting the proverbial bed.

But this ain’t happening. Because you are wrong. In every way. Statistics prove your wrong. Rationality and Common Sense prove you wrong. American History proves you wrong. World History really proves your ultimate goal of complete disarmament wrong.

You herds of bleating sheep demanding ‘SOMEONE DO SOMETHING’ and then accuse those of us who actually know what the hell we are talking about of being terrorists, child killers, and murderers with our hands coated in the dripping blood of innocents are ignored, denigrated, cursed, and threatened.

For what? The audacity of us to not be ignorant? To prefer personal independence and responsibility over the facade of government protection? To fight against your illogical and unconstitutional pushes to give over YOUR rights and future generations because you either won’t educate yourself or you hate those of us who defend them?

You people… I’m tired of you. I’m sick of my opinion having less weight than people who only know about guns from watching movies. Then it being ignored on the basis that I must be a terrible person for being in the NRA.

Heck, I’ll join you.

Let’s take down the NRA. Because GOA(Gun Owners of America) and JPFO (Jews for the Preservation of Firearms Organization) will gladly step up to take their place, and they won’t negotiate one iota of my rights away to appease the vocal minority who won’t shut up.

No? You don’t want that?

Well go back to defending the chopping up of babies in the womb and selling their body parts – you disgusting beacons of progressive moral righteousness.

***

Since that post, the NRA supported the Bump Stock Ban and the left has given a standing ovation to the passing of a law that allows mothers to kill their babies moments before they are born.

Nothing’s changed.