Kick The Tires & Light The Fires

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I would like to say that I’ve been itching to get back here to The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog, but there would only be about 3% truth in that statement, and I would like for everyone to know that my year or so vacation has been just that, without one single withdrawal symptom to count. I know some of y’all are asking how could I not miss blogging about whatever crossed my mind at a given moment of a given day, and I would say it was actually easier to walk away from than I first thought because I was pretty addicted to doing as I pleased how I wanted to and when I wanted to. So, with that being said let’s kick the tires and light the fires. Yes, I will probably still misspell words, use improper grammar, cuss allot, and give my unwanted opinions. And no, I will not be announcing any kind of fucking format changes, I like the fringe too much to charge ahead changing shit that doesn’t need changing. I do, however, want to thank everyone for visiting over the past months, when I was posting I averaged 1200+ visitors a day and when I stopped that dropped to an average of 800+ visitors. Come to find out older material was still being re-blogged and commented on, people were still using links from other blogs and searching the world-wide web to find this blog. I would have to guess that 90% or better of the searched terms landed y’all here by accident because I tag the shit out of my posts and have something like 30,000+ tags in the cloud. Before I get started I would like to reach out to thank everyone who has continued to email me, text me, comment here, or just flat-out call me. It has been a constant reminder that I have left y’all hanging, that I abandoned my blog along with friends and followers, and that even though I may have been finished with one part that I wasn’t even close to being done yet.

Which is where we begin, deciding whether one is finished or one is done. I see your face already, giving me the looks of a disappointed parent before even giving me a chance to explain. But some of y’all already know the difference, some of y’all even use it on a daily basis, but the rest of y’all may think you’re learning something new, only to find out that it has a purpose in life. Most things I teach my children are lessons taught to me over the years, of course I’ve had the luxury of picking and choosing what works for me, but I have a nice collection of “tools” in this weathered shed that have come in handy over the years. The best example of all of this nonsense we call living out our lives is knowing without fail if I am finished or if I am done. While i find it super simple, I will explain. Imagine if you will, for those who can, that you picked up a great book to read, a thick book with many chapters, a book which will probably take weeks if not months to get to the end. You’ve set aside a few hours to read and decide at the end of the first chapter that you need a break. Now ask yourself, are you finished or are you done. For those playing along, you are merely finished for the time being. To be done one needs to make it to the end, signifying being done. Being finished or done applies to everything, yes I said everything, from conversations and conflicts, from getting dressed to showering, from going on a trip to doing your daily routine, it applies everywhere. Just think how much simpler life would be if everyone on the planet applied being finished or being done to everything they do. It simplifies my life to say the very least.

Is is hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that it really has been an entire year. A year without blogging? A year without any social media? My calendar says it’s true, so it must be true, right? Getting back into gear has proven to be rather challenging to say the very least about the matter. Anyway, I think the vacation has done me well, as well as well can be, it’s been a crazy busy year with many twisted turns, some expected and some real surprises.

Before I get into the past year let’s look at the present, today is a great day to discuss. So, it appears my blogcatalog account is still up but I can’t get into because I don’t have the password so I’m trying to get it resolved or reset. Same goes for Twitter and Google+, I can see the pages but can’t get logged in. As far as Facebook and the Facebook fan page, same scenario, with the exception that they want me to update my information with proof of photo identification to show I’m a real human or something to that extent. Personally, I say piss on it all because in reality it was the chore up updating social media which was one of my biggest problems, leaving me very out of focus doing my blog. For what I ask? To promote something that nobody cares about, that’s the answer we’re going for. I knew since day one that this blog was merely one in billions or more. So, my decision has been made, if I’m to give this shit a go again then it’s going to be on my terms alone. I’m taking it back to basics, taking it back to my boring ass life and lifestyle, and writing about the shit that matters to me personally and what might be in or around my life.

Now, as I mentioned above, many people have continued to email and text me and for some reason it has convinced me to try again. I know, I’m trying to figure out what it is that they or y’all are missing, but thanks for the encouragement and the poking and prodding and general enthusiasm, I really do appreciate it, so we can see how it goes. I guess the next thing to do is bring everyone up to speed and then I will get into some really deep shit in coming posts.

Well, I recall mentioning that I became a “minister” so I could fulfill the request of my oldest daughter to officiate her wedding up in South Dakota. And, last summer I did exactly that. In all, the ceremony was easy, it was the whole marrying off my daughter that proved to be the challenge. It was an eventful trip to say the very least, but that will be the next post, because we had the wedding, but we also had a very life altering medical emergency with my wife as well. Just know everyone is well now. So, speaking of marriage ceremonies, something I figured I would not be doing again until probably my son’s marriage if that would be what they wanted, but I found out that plan had quite a few holes in it as it would happen. Therefore, to date, not counting my daughter’s wedding, I’ve officiated 6 other marriages and 3 same sex marriages (female to female). Not that the kinds of marriage ceremonies actually matter, but there are still a few of y’all out there that have the idea that I’m anti-gay, a racist, anti-religion, and against so much other shit. All I can say is live your life as you see fit. Anyway, all the weddings mentioned approached me personally through word of mouth. This is not why i was ordained, but I considered everything and moved forward. Let’s just say I was given the opportunity to witness the other sides of people as they prepared for the big day. We’ll discuss more later in regards to weddings, trust me.

So, a quick review. I’m still married, just celebrated 18 years last month. I’m still working at the same place doing the same thing on the same shift, more to come on that topic too. I’ve just started parent taught driver’s education with my soon to be 16 y/o son. We, as a family, as a whole, are just living life one day at a time. In one of the next posts I will elaborate on my medical health.

But I think for now this can end as a post since I actually do know how boring I really am. So, I guess this is my way of saying that upon my return I don’t really care if the haters have their big girl panties on or not. My opinions have not changed much, if any, there are still too many fucktards out roaming around out of control that I come in to contact with more often than not. With that being said, remember boys and girls to eat it every day.

Only Once A Year On November 11th

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At precisely 11:11 a.m. each Veterans Day (Nov. 11), the sun’s rays pass through the ellipses of the five Armed Services pillars to form a perfect solar spotlight over a mosaic of The Great Seal of the United States.

The Anthem Veterans Memorial, located in Anthem, Arizona, is a monument dedicated to honoring the service and sacrifice of the United States armed forces. The pillar provides a place of honor and reflection for veterans, their family and friends, and those who want to show their respects to those service men and women who have and continue to courageously serve the United States.

The memorial was designed by Anthem resident Renee Palmer-Jones. The five marble pillars represent the five branches of the United States military. They are staggered in size (from 17 ft to 6 ft) and ordered in accordance with the Department of Defense prescribed precedence, ranging from the United States Army, the United States Marine Corps, the United States Navy, the United States Air Force and the United States Coast Guard.

Additionally, the brick pavers within the Circle of Honor are inscribed with the names of over 750 U.S. servicemen and women, symbolizing the ‘support’ for the Armed Forces. The pavers are red, the pillars are white, and the sky is blue to represent America’s flag. The circle represents an unbreakable border. Anthem resident and chief engineer, Jim Martin was responsible for aligning the memorial accurately with the sun.

Anthem Veterans Memorial

41703 N. Gavilan Peak Parkway
Anthem, AZ 85086
(623) 742-6050

Photographs by Mike Spinelli

Veterans Day is an official United States holiday that honors people who have served in the U.S. Armed Forces, also known as veterans. It is a federal holiday that is observed on November 11. It coincides with other holidays such as Armistice Day and Remembrance Day, which are celebrated in other parts of the world and also mark the anniversary of the end of World War I (major hostilities of World War I were formally ended at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918, when the Armistice with Germany went into effect).

The United States also originally observed Armistice Day; it then evolved into the current Veterans Day holiday in 1954.Veterans Day is not to be confused with Memorial Day; Veterans Day celebrates the service of all U.S. military veterans, while Memorial Day is a day of remembering the men and women who died while serving.

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Don’t Speculate On The Intent Of Emails

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After the last few posts done here the emails and spammy comments have really been stacking up. First of all, I appreciate the fucking efforts y’all took to write to me and letting me know your opinions. Y’all may not know this, but it’s really hard to convey emotions in an email, but y’all sure in the hell fucking try. Now, first I would like to say that I received a fair amount of positive emails, some of which were from complete fucking strangers to me. I don’t try to post allot of touchy feely emotional bullshit stuff because many times its too fucking depressing to write much less to read. Which is why I veered away from telling the bartender stories for a while. But what is life without ups and downs, it’s called death, morons.

It’s good to hear that there are so many motherfucking psychology scholars in my reading audience who have a grasp on my personal reality (or lack of) and think that my past is getting in the way of my future. Are they fucking right? Can they know me best by what I leave out when I write. According to the scholars I am living my life in fear because I don’t want to relive my past. Pause. I find it hard to think I’m fearing something that I can’t fucking ever change. The truth is, I don’t want my past changed, the past happened for a reason, it helps me figure out who I want to be. And no, I’m not living in denial when I say I don’t have mental issues, I’ve just seen some shit that really fucking freaked me out. We’ve all got a past, we all have demons, and we all do what we must do to make it through another day. Every day I have the opportunity to wake up I am fucking thankful to have one more chance to tick one more day off the calendar. I think that’s more than allot of people around me can say, all I fucking hear is how people hate their fucking lives. Okay then, hate your fucking life, but can you leave my life out of it please?

Yes, I’m aware of what PTSD is and how people choose to live there life around it. Sure, I could go to the VA headshrinker and beg and fucking plea so they would medicate me so I would go away, but I don’t see the point personally. What I’ve seen or done in the world over the years is not what my fucking problem is, my problem is with the people who want to label, medicate, and discard people who really want and or need help. I merely had moments where I decided that certain shit wasn’t for me any longer, I made choices, and I took actions to change what I didn’t like. All joking aside, there are people with real mental problems who need real mental help to foster their care and improve their life as well as their well-being. People aren’t looking for an armchair psychologist who read a book once or saw some shit like this on Oprah, these are real people, not after ratings or fame. So fuck off.

Specifically, let’s talk about how we act in the real fucking world. I can sit here and say honestly that I’m much more of an asshole in person. However, I’m quiet, collecting information, surveying my surroundings, watching people’s body language, and picking apart the bullshit I’m listening to. Typically, my mouth remains closed unless your bullshit starts to get on me. I’m a very tolerant person (I really hate that fucking word, tolerant) and it takes a great deal to provoke me, but when you finally cross over that fucking line just be ready because I go straight for the throat every single fucking time. I try not to “people” too much any more in my life because everyone is offended by something. Well, fuckheads, it offends me that you’re offended. Here on my blog I get the emails all the time that tell me they are one and done because I have offended them. So fucking what, here’s a tampon, now move the fuck on. People pretend to be so pretentious and proper and politically correct. Boo hoo bitches I’m not like that. If everyone forgot about my blog, never looked at my blog, unfollowed my blog, and never looked here ever again, I’d be just fucking fine with each of those decisions. But what really amuses me the most are the self righteous premadonna fucktards who want to tell me what’s either best for me or best for my blogs, y’all crack me the fuck up, daily, multiple times a day, I’m not kidding.

Where does this leave us now? The same, we remain the fucking same, you and I, no changes. I figured out something a very fucking long time ago and it’s something some of y’all need to get through your thick little skulls, I’m not seeking your fucking approval. The only approval I need is from me. Yes, I share my posts on different social media sites updating whoever’s interested that something new has been posted. I’m thinking on quitting that bad habit altogether since 99% of the time that is all I post, just blog updates. Trust me, I have decided to quit fucking blogging on more than one occasion as well, simply because I get tired of the grief, the spam, and the fucktard version of psychoanalisms. I don’t blame y’all for be smarter than me, better spellers than me (thank you autocorrect), being better people than me, you are who you are, welcome to Earth motherfuckers. Whatever, right? Right. I’ve mentioned in the past (readers get it, skimmers miss it) that I just come here to write a little and post a little, I’m not looking for fame or fortune or even respect, I’m just here.

I would think that the fact that my blog makes you feel like you’ve shaved your twat with coarse fucking sandpaper that you just might realize we are different in many ways and we are the same in many ways. Remember, opinions are the assholes we wish to only peak at, because if we took a nice long look we’d realize that we don’t have the prettiest asshole to look at. Some of y’all will get that, for the rest of y’all I have provided Crayons and a coloring book. Of course, I’ve removed the black, white, brown, yellow, peach, red, and blue Crayons so you sensitive bitches don’t get offended and color in peace. I’m fucking nice like that, I cater to all the haters.

In closing, let me remind y’all I read my comments, social media posts, and emails everyday of the fucking week, sometimes I even respond, so your words are not being written in vain, well actually, your negative shit is in vain but it makes me smile. Not the fucking answers you were looking for? Oh well, write a nice formal complaint, fold it up real tiny like, and shove that motherfucker straight up your ass. I will be giving no further assistance or instructions on what to do. For you loyal readers, the ones who don’t feel abused or violated, welcome back and I have left some fucking snacks out for y’all. Anyway, I lost where I was actually going with this post entirely, I guess I just wanted to remind everyone that I’m okay, thanks for the wellwishes, and I too am glad to have woken up yet another day. Yay US!

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.

Try Not Fucking All Of This Shit Up

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I keep seeing all these fucking cooking posts where people try too fucking hard to pan sear fucking steaks but fuck it all up, it’s fucking simple, so fucking pay close attention. Go to the fucking grocery store and buy fucking steak. Yes, the fucking grocery store, a little ammonia isn’t going to kill you, don’t be a pussy. You want to be all fucking fancy, fucking grass fed, and environmentally conscious, go the fuck ahead. I really don’t give two shits about it. Just be sure to get fucking ribeye steak, it fucking turns out the best. Be sure and buy it with the fucking bone in, don’t be a dumbfuck. Now, take the fucking steak home. Get a bigass fucking frying pan out and put that shit on the stovetop, crank up the fucking heat as high as that motherfucker will go. Take a shit-ton of rocksalt, yes rocksalt you dumbfuck, none of that fine ground table bullshit salt, and toss that shit all over the bottom of the fucking frying pan. When the frying pan is hot as all fuck, it should scortch the the shit out of your fucking finger if you were stupid enough to touch it, put the fucking steak in the fucking pan right now. You can crack some fucking pepper on top of the steak as you hear the sizzle of the fucking bottom of the steak searing. DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT even attempt to sprinkle onion powder or garlic powder or immafuckingtation butter flavoring on this fucking steak assholes, just keep it the fuck away, trust me. This is a fucking steak assholes, all you fucking need is salt and pepper. After a short bit, 2 1/2 minutes for good and pink or 5 minutes for cooked the fuck through, flip that shit over and do the exact fucking thing you just did to the other fucking side. I.e. just sit on your fucking ass and wait for your motherfucking steak to be ready, try not to be a useless assbag and fuck this up. When you’re fucking done just slap that shit on a plate. And, hopefully you weren’t so stupid you didn’t make some kind of potatoes, any kind of fucking potatoes, because fucking steak gets eaten with fucking potatoes. If you want to be frisky, pour yourself a Jack straight the fuck up, nice and fucking neat. Now eat your perfectly seared fucking steak while it’s still hot. Don’t piss me off again and make me come and smack the fucking shit out of you! Hopefully you learned how NOT to ever fuck up steak ever again. Remember this fucking way and you’ll never be disappointed ever again.

Words Of Wisdom – Man Up

I read allot a blogs every day of the week, I have a few, counting them on a single hand, favorite blogs that I read, unfortunately the one I would like to re-blog more uses the blogspot format, so re-blogging means copying then pasting the post with linkage to the original post. Which is what I must do today. However, its well worth the effort and I hope you appreciate it as much as I do. Now, I recommend you visit The Bearded Backyarder regularly, in fact go to today after reading this example post from my friend Stacks’ blog. He, with a select few, have a permanent link on the right of my blog, he’s well worth the look. Y’all won’t be disappointed with this fellow Texan! Now, here’s that post. Got your own fatherly wisdom? Leave them in the comments. Don’t forget to go pay Stacks a good visit!

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Words Of Wisdom – Man Up

Your father probably told you a few things, but just in case, here are some words of wisdom you might have missed out on. If I missed some, please comment and remind me. Young men need to hear these little gems from time to time. It is mission critical that they do. This day and age, young men are running low on mentors. Be that missing mentor if the need arises. Man up man.

Buy high quality tools, so you only have to buy them once.

Keep a change of clothes at the office.

Never hit anyone unless they are an immediate threat.

Every hat should serve a purpose.

Smelling good is feeling good. Feeling good is everything good. 

Never take her to the movies on the first date.

Learn to wet shave. If you do not shave, keep yourself groomed and neat.

Drink strong coffee. Hot tea is for old ladies. 

Nothing looks more bad ass than a man in a well tailored suit.

Shave with the grain on the first go-around.

Always look a person in the eye when you speak to them.

Buy a plunger before you need a plunger.

Exercise and firearms make you happy. Go run, go lift, go bang, go play sports.

Brush your teeth before you put on your tie.

A small amount of your paycheck should go directly to your savings account every month.

There’s nothing wrong with having some “you money” stashed away.

Call mom and dad every week.

Never wear a clip-on tie.

Give a firm handshake.

Compliment her shoes or hair.

Never leave a beer unfinished.

If you aren’t confident, fake it. It will come around.

You can tell the size of a man by the size of things that bother him.

Be conscious of your body language.

The only reason to point a gun at someone is if you intend to shoot them. Period.

Never lend anything you can’t afford to lose.

Ask more than you answer. Everybody likes to talk about themselves.

Never have sex with anyone that doesn’t want it as much as you.

Go for women out of your league. You may end up surprised.

Manliness is not only being able to take care of you, but others as well.

Go with the decision that will make for a good story.

When you walk, look straight ahead, and not at your feet.

Nice guys don’t finish last, boring guys do.

Find your passion and figure out how to get paid for it.

Don’t let the little head do the thinking for the big head.

No matter their job or status, everyone deserves your respect. (I call bullshit; no one deserves respect until they EARN it.) 

The first one to get angry loses.

A man does what needs to be done without complaining. 

Never stop learning.

Always go out in public dressed like you’re about to meet the love of your life.

Never change yourself just to make someone happy.

If you’re the smartest person in the room, you’re in the wrong room.

Luck favors the prepared.

Women find confidence sexy as hell.

Do whatever you want to do, but try to be the absolute best at it.

No one on their deathbed wishes they had spent more time at work.

Learn how to shine shoes. Never show up looking like you kicked a Hershey Bar. 

Never shoot a large caliber man with a small caliber bullet.

Wisdom comes from mainly getting older.

Men should read the words and deeds of great men of the past, especially fathers.

Be a man of self-control, self-denial, patience, humility, and have a principled approach to everything.

It’s easier to make your wishes conform to your means, than to make your means conform to your wishes.

Do not wife hunt in bars and tattoo parlors.

Meddle or interfere with nothing in which you have no concern.

Be willing to admit your mistakes and take blame.

Private and public life are subject to the same rules; and truth and manliness are two qualities that will carry you through this world much better than policy, or tact, or expediency, or any other word that was ever devised to conceal or mystify a deviation from a straight line.

A man should always say what he means and mean what he says.

A man may manifest and communicate his joy to the world, but he should conceal and smother his grief as much as possible.

Read history books, works of truth, and not novels and romances.

Never marry unless you can do so into a family that will enable your children to feel proud of both sides of the house.

Since your father will always be older than you, he will always be wiser.

Few things are more rewarding than blisters on your hands and a paycheck in the bank.

Don’t be afraid to stand alone; living your valueswill cost you, but not living them will kill you.

You can spend your day dicking the dog, but if you walk around like you own the place, no one will question you.

Don’t throw dirt on the sod.

Wealth doesn’t make the man.

Your family will benefit more from you being a good custodian of your resources than they will from your greed.

Never knock a man who is working, no matter what job he’s doing.

The grass may be greener, but it’s just as hard to cut.

What it all boils down to is that women are crazy and men are stupid.

Can do doesn’t mean should do.

The best way to love your children is to openly express your love for their mother. 

You don’t have to like someone to learn something valuable from them.

People tend to treat you the way that you treat yourself.

If you have to die you may as well go out with your boots on.

It is never a mistake to buy food or tools.

Never wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty and the pig likes it.

Never argue with an idiot; they’ll drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.

If a fight is unavoidable, do whatever it takes to end it as soon as possible.

Aim for the back of the head, through the face.

Become familiar with tools.

Just ask her out already, he who hesitates masturbates.

Don’t be your absent father. You may hate that woman but be there for the child you helped conceive.

There is nothing wrong with getting a second opinion.

Learn to use a knife.

Just because the water ran over it doesn’t mean it’s clean.

Never be afraid of getting your hands dirty or your knuckles bruised.

The people who are having too much fun at the office Christmas Party are the ones who are not around long enough for the next office Christmas Party.

Violence is never the answer, except for when it is. 

Never dip your pen in company ink.

Failure is not a bad thing. Failure is the path to success.

Learn to swing an axe.

Believe in something, but believe not in everything.

Alphas are born that way. People know the difference. Know your circle.

If you find yourself in a fair fight, your tactics suck.

Never worry about the mule, just shut up and load the wagon.

False motivation is better than none at all.

Learn to throw a punch and take one. You will get hit.