Fucking People Make It Complicated

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The first question I fucking have is why do fucking people make it complicated? It’s easy to not fuck up the food you cook, it’s easy as hell if you just pay fucking attention. Y’all know I spend a great deal of time reading other people’s blogs. Y’all know I usually don’t fucking comment because people have said I drop too many fucking f-bombs. Probably some truth in there some where I’m sure. I visit a few handfuls of what I will call cooking lifestyle blogs, they range from gourmet to trashcan grilling and most things in between. I noticed a fucking trend I really don’t fucking like, across the board, but I saved my bitching and moaning for my own fucking blog because, well, that’s how I fucking am. If y’all have taken the time to read my last post you’ll see I demonstrated the right way to pan sear a fucking steak, but it goes deeper than that, much much deeper. I had read a few posts about doing a fucking gourmet pan seared steak. I must ask, what in the fuck are you people trying to do to me? Putting all this bullshit on your meat and you’ll never fucking taste the meat, just your bullshit. So, I got to thinking, eventhough I can be considered nothing more than an average cook who learned to cook by standing next to real humans, I still know that one needs practice. Food is judged by it’s fucking taste morons, even if it looks like a pile of shit, if it tastes good I’m going to eat it. But it seems like everyone is in some kind of fucking cooking competition, got to Tweet that shit, got to Pin that shit, and even Share that shit. Looks can be very deceiving, anyone can polish a turd for a fucking picture, but will you eat it?

Okay, I’ll agree there are many fantastic cooks out in the world, and your food is making people fat and happy. But, who are these motherfuckers who watch the cable food channels and surf the internet who all of a sudden are culinary experts? Y’all know who I’m talking about, we all have them in our families and lives, hell I’m probably pissing one of them off right now. With two big cooking holidays coming up fast we all know there are those people’s food we won’t fucking touch because it fucking sucks. Why? Because they can’t cook that’s why! Oh, but they try, right? Wrong! Copying something from Instagram, Pinterest, Facebook, or wherever the fuck else does NOT make you a fucking cook, really it doesn’t. But does this stop them from posting on their blogs? No. Does this stop them from inflicting their unimaginable culinary disasters on friends and family? No. If you can’t cook just own the shit out of that, you can never fake fucking steak, never.

So, what am I doing here? I’m trying to tug at your heart strings in hopes that one day soon we will be rid of the wannabe cooks. I pride myself self on the fact that I cook what I know how to cook, I grill in a way that food is edible, and I smoke meats in ways that will make you want to dry hump my leg with excitement. However, I’m a down home simple ingredients kind of cook. I do NOT bury the flavor of what I’m cooking in other bullshit, I’m simple in my methods. I have taught an ex-wife to cook, my wife to cook (in different ways, she’s a bad ass cook already), and all three of my kids to cook. Why? Because if we’re going to eat we might as well fucking enjoy the way it tastes. Right or wrong? But, my soon to be married 19 year old daughter has been exploring the cooking shows and scouring the internet for recipes to try. She can’t figure out why she doesn’t like the way the food tastes. My answer? You need to fucking practice, practice allot, make changes, own that shit until you can do it blindfolded, without the recipe card, and where it comes out delicious every single time. Me, I don’t have any recipes written down anywhere, but I do try to accurately share proportions when prompted, but I doubt it’s ever exact. An example, search my blog for details, I make what I call Diablo Scorpion Chili on a regular basis because my wife, her friends at work, and family can’t ever get enough of this high heat colon cleansing chili. It has been made the same way since I dreamed that shit up some 25 years ago to enter into a chili cook off. Not to brag, but best in heat, best in flavor, and best appearance tells me it might be good, don’t change a fucking thing.

But I do more, I even share with pictures here on occasion, people actually write to me thanking me because it all tasted as described. Why? Because I don’t do all the bullshit, basic is the best flavoring. Anyway, my question still remains, why do people try to “fake it” on the internet? People try their recipes I’m sure, as I have, and most times I’m not impressed. I’m no expert when it comes to cooking, but I don’t get complaints either. My fucking wish I have for people learning to cook or wanting to learn something new is to spend time with other humans, whether it is family or friends, and be shown in person how to make a recipe work. Let’s face it, if it looks pretty but tastes like shit then you have failed. My family knows I don’t mind eating the ugly mistakes if they taste great. Our daily food consumption should be eating simple meals, inexpensive meals, and meals we want to eat. I like to try new things too, but some science experiments are best left to the experts and that for fucking sure is not me. So the next time you get a wild hair up your ass, try making something new, posting it online, just make sure it fucking tastes awesome. If not, its pretty hard to fuck up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, just keep that in mind. I hope we all learned something today, if so there is hope for us humans, if not we’re all fucking doomed.

Talk About A Ghost From Christmas Past

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I really hate the fact that I have begun to think in the terms of my elders, but at times they have it too right to ignore. It takes a certain kind of lowlife douchebag to steal property which belongs to others, no matter their reasoning or justifications. There’s something broken within their morality meter which allows them to cross the forbidden line between right and wrong. Yesterday I was reminded that many laws are designed to better protect the criminal than the victims. Yesterday I received a letter from the state of Texas which informed me that Mr. Lowlife Douchebag III (his real name will never be spoken by my lips here) is scheduled for release from state incarceration in November 2014 after successfully meeting state parole requirements. Why is this information important to me personally? I will explain that in a minute since the incident happened back in this blogs literal infancy and I have never mentioned it here before in any kind of detail.

Late in the evening seven years, nine months, and three days or 2,834 days ago, we were settling down after just returning from a get together with my in-laws. After looking at the time, we had realized it will be Christmas Day in a few short hours. When we came in the house for the first time our hands were full, so after setting down all the food and bags, I returned to the truck to get the everything else. It was at this time I first noticed wet foot prints on the driveway and an out of place shadow where they ended at just the edge of where the light reached. I continued to the driver’s side of the truck, opened the door, reached into the center console, and retrieved my pistol. I remained bent across the seat, looking out behind me, waiting for movement. After a very long couple of minutes, I climbed back out of the truck and walked to the edge of the drive, and then I saw the shadow blink. Before I knew what was happening I had this man pinned to the ground with a pistol pointed at his forehead. Many moments passed while I stared into the eyes of this man, many thoughts passed in my mind, and then my wife’s voice broke the silence. Hearing the noise she came out, thinking I had dropped something or tripped. I will never forget the look of fear on her face as she looked in our direction. She went back inside swiftly and called 911.

It was thirteen minutes from the time she made the call before I saw the flashing lights come blazing up the driveway. The two cars pulled very close to where I was standing, four officers emerged and stood behind their open doors with weapons drawn, demanding I relinquish my weapon. I froze, I am the one who is making sure the douchebag does not run. I was confused. Moments later I was on the ground, I was rushed from behind, I can hear my wife screaming at them in terror. All I can think is it is Christmas Eve. We were both arrested. I was released early Christmas morning after being cleared of any criminal activity and establishing myself as home and property owner. After processing, my pistol was released back into my custody. Months later he was convicted of attempted armed robbery, armed trespassing after dark with intent to cause harm to persons and property, and finally with the possession of a stolen firearm.

The number one question I have been asked is why I did not shoot and kill this man because the right to do so with my actions protected by Texas laws. Why? Why is a powerful question. My answer has always been simple and has always remained unchanged. Shooting him to kill him never crossed my mind, never even close. It’s not my nature, no matter what, a human life is more valuable to me than things or property, and, eventhough I felt threatened, there was other options which I executed which defused the threat. In the end, I have a conscience which seems to always guide my actions. Yes, I was and remain to this day, mad. The lessons I have learned in my life have served me well and they have taught me that I am not the judge or jury, but just a human being on planet dirt trying to scratch out some kind of a life, like everyone else I can only assume. As far as his release, it isn’t my place to know if he is rehabilitated or not in the allotted time prescribed by the state of Texas. I do know, this experience was a part of the reason I have the security system I still use this very day. I may have lost faith along the way in my fellow humans, but at the same time the safety and security of myself and my family remains very high on my personal list if priorities. Its hard to say live and let live when the idea is more often than not, one sided. Below is a general look at the laws here in Texas, it should not be looked at or taken as any form of legal advice as I put it here for informational purposes only.

Texas law allows a person to use force in the protection of property to prevent or terminate another’s trespass or other unlawful interference with the possession of real or personal property. Deadly force can be used in Texas when the crime against property is classified as arson, burglary, robbery, criminal mischief at night or theft at night. Deadly force may also be used to prevent a person from fleeing with property immediately after the commission of a burglary, robbery, aggravated robbery, or theft during the nighttime if the actor believes that the property cannot be recovered by any other means or the use of force other than deadly force would expose the person to a substantial risk of death or serious bodily injury.

Texas also allows a person to use force and deadly force to protect the personal property of a third party. The use of force is permissible if the person believes that the force or deadly force is necessary to prevent the commission of theft or criminal mischief, or if the person believes that the third party has asked them to protect the property, the person has a legal duty to protect the property, or the third party is the spouse, parent, child or under the care of the person using force.

Born, raised, and protected by guns, guts, and glory.

Do You Need This Complete Guide?

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The Best Source Of Information Is Right Here

Guide To The Sting Of The Scorpion

The Man Behind Colorblind Eyes

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This morning I was doing something I rarely like doing myself because there is always a risk of mistakes being made. Typically I try to never attempt to identify colors unless I have someone close to confirm or deny my observations. However, today I about screwed the pooch because I forget I am one impatient son of a bitch. I sit here now, outside my shop, smoking a few cigarettes, reflecting on my mistake. Mistake? What mistake? Well, let’s start from the beginning, that will probably be the easiest for y’all to follow. The other day I fried (cooked off) the circuit board which controlled the propane release actuators for my pit smoker. Meaning, it developed an electrical short which resulted in catching the electronic starter box to burst into flames. As a result, the controls were literally fried. Since I built it originally I decided to start over and make it again. I had a few ideas that would improve its functions by updating the style if relays and timers being used. I had all the parts, all recycled from other things which have been recently scrapped, such as an old deep fryer and thermostat. I had already removed the steel box from the smoker and gutted everything that was charred, which was absolutely everything.

I was supposed to wait til tonite to have my 12 y/o son help me out because he wanted yo learn how to soder circuit boards and make permenant wire connections. But……………. I am an impatient man. I don’t like waiting. Plus, I needed to test out my new design to see if it will work and function. Then tonight I would let him make me a pretty box. So, that was the plan anyway. The layout took about ten minutes, the assembly took about ten minutes, and soldering took about ten minutes. This is a 12 volt system using a deep cycle marine battery. It also required heavier gauged wire to carry the load but also serves as better insulation against the high heat the assembly is exposed to. Time to test. Ready. Set. Go. Press the button. Nothing happened. Its dead to the world. Then I notice the assembly wasn’t grounded so I grab the wire and attached it to my metal table which is earth grounded outside. Take two. Now leaning on the table to view the operation I push the button once again. Then, instant pain. FUCK THAT HURTS! After I stopped jumping around in pure pain, after I could focus my vision again, after I wiped away my tears, I see I use a live wire to ground it all out resulting in an electrical charge being applied to the metal table which I was meaning on with bare skin. Did I mention how bad that fucking hurts?

After some minor wire changes it was retested and now works flawlessly. Later I will tweak the arrangement a little and let it sit until my son gets home from school. Because now I think I will just sit here. Its nice the tingling has stopped or I may have had problems writing all of this down. Its a nice day too, so maybe I will have a swim in the pond, or maybe just sit here in my old blue rocker where its safe.

An Open Letter To Whomever

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It has come to my attention within the last 24 hours that I made remarks which certain people on our planet have taken to be historically in bad taste. These people mistake my sarcasm as me just being a cold hearted bastard. I make light of many things in current times as well as in history but for some reason, that I am obviously to damn ignorant to comprehend, people find cause in pointing out WHY what was said was so wrong and offensive. I have the answer to why this happens and that answer is simple. I am who I am and you ate not me, you are not capable of knowing what I know, seeing what I see, or even grasping why I speak the way I do. I don’t offend people on purpose, people make the choice to get offended by what I say. Here’s the damn deal, I don’t give a shit. It goes well beyond this blog, it goes deeper than social media, and the big picture is something these people choose not to see. Its great that they can pin point focus on a tiny part but 99.99% of the time it is taken way out of context which really draws one attention away from how words were being used. Right now there are people wondering what in the unholy Fuck I am talking about, which is cool because we don’t all travel in the same social circles. If you know what I am referencing that is great and if you are not with the program that is great as well. All I ask is that one must remember that there are things and people and placed that I understand all to well and the way I choose to interact is my way, its not something I need permission to do. It doesn’t make a difference to me if people come here or interact with me. Its nice that y’all do but I don’t run off and cry when people leave me. Shit happens because that’s just fucking life. I will be the first to admit we ate different, and you should cherish that fact not be offended by that fact. But who am I to say, y’all are strong willed people and should already now this. I mentioned, when I started here on WP that I was being reborn, that I was back with a purpose this time, and will not cater to the pussies in the world who think that complaining enough will finally get me shut down. Should it offend me that you are offended? Nope, fuck you. My blog and what I say is not for everyone, hell its not actually for anyone, except those who have the stomach to go ahead and be amused with life and the people here on planet dirt. We, the people of planet Earth, are all fucked up in one way or another. I have yet to meet the perfect human and I am comfortable knowing that I never will. Its probably a stretch to ask people to have their own lives perfect before deciding mine is not, I will make it simple for you, I don’t live the perfect life in your eyes, but I do live a perfectly happy life in my own eyes. Luckily I gave up, many many years ago, trying to convince people that they are very different from each other. As a bonus, this decision to give up has given me a better opportunity to watch people make complete asses out of themselves while they try to get me and others to give a shit about there opinions.

In conclusion, I know I have opened the literal flood gates of hate and poison that certain people have coursing through their veins by merely having an oppositional opinion that may differ from their own. Yes, I am an asshole. Tell me something I don’t already know. But, y’all should know that generally I don’t pull out my asshole card unless provoked to do so. Some will argue, as the do regularly, that the mete existence of this blog and its contents will always provoke an I’ll response from just the right person at that right moment in time. At the end of the day we can all agree on one simple fact, each of us must take care of ourselves and our own sanity. We can’t all be sheeple and Fucktards now can we.

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