When I was a kid around 7 or 8 I had a really great friend. As we got into our early teens we were very close, and now looking back I realize just how close. She was the person I talked to about anything and everything, I even talked to her about girls and she talked to me about the boys. We had that real close cousin type of friendship even though there was no blood relationship, but we were more than friends, our connection went deeper than that, much deeper than one can simply imagine. So, in “honor” of my great friend in life I would like to share some memories, I hope she wouldn’t mind.
The first time I met Gabby I was probably 7 or 8 years old, I was spying on the new girl on the block as she helped her parents unpack the moving truck and I was truly fascinated with everything about her. I was up high in the tree in our front yard, as quiet as a hawk searching for movement in the tall grass, as I watched her blonde hair whip around in the breeze. I got distracted for real and was watching two squirrels fighting over something at the end of the very branch I was laying on. Out of the blue I heard a quiet voice, the whispering voice of a girl asking me if I wanted to climb down so I could play with her. After I climbed down we walked back to the bayou where we caught and played with the crawdads that were everywhere. We didn’t talk much about anything, we just got muddy, laughed, and played. Later on we hear her dad calling out in the distance for Gabby to come home. With big eyes she stole a kiss on the cheek, told me thanks for playing with her, and she was gone into the wind. We would play like this, for hours at a time after school and on the weekends.
We went trick-or-treating together that first year she moved in and that became our “little tradition” for many years to come. We would do crazy shit all year long, pranks, jokes, and so on, always doing it together as much as time would allow. In our early teens our friendship took a turn to the best I think, I never heard her complain either, she noticeably was going from little girl to a young lady. As this happened, we played allot of show and tell and allot of spin the bottle and a fair share of truth or dare, always just us two, nobody else was allowed to participate. It’s just the way it was. Before long we knew more about one another than each other knew about themselves, inside and out. But this was all about to end, I was moving away the summer between 8th and 9th grade to live with my dad in another state. It was a surprise and crushing blow for all of us, family included, as everyone guessed us to start dating because we were inseparable at all times. That was a hard summer for me, I crashed an ultralight aircraft attempting to get my amateur aviation license which should have killed me, but it didn’t luckily. Unfortunately, on my final trip back home at the end of summer, to pack and say goodbye, I was given the terrible news that my dad had a fatal accident while participating in a exposition air show. I buried him a week later. All my plans died with him that day, but the only person I felt I could talk with or just sit with was my best friend Gabby.
High school started right on cue, we had unofficially started dating, meaning we did everything together but weren’t actually together, but everyone but us called it dating, we are just good friends. By our sophomore year the boys were really noticing her and time in our friendship was being stretched beyond control, something had to go, and that something just happened to be me. She dated many boys, I didn’t really have a serious relationship until 11th grade which made our friendship even stranger. In the beginning of that relationship Gabby played dirty, in my spare time she was there, flirting harder than ever, always naked around me when we were alone, always tempting me with the very thing I always thought I wanted, but it never happened, but according to her rumors we were together, we were fucking, and I was taken. A nice story that ended badly. We didn’t speak again until the night of our graduation, where she told me she was leaving soon to go to Air Force basic training, a place I was also going to be but got accepted into college so my enlistment was delayed 24 months. That was it, my first crush was leaving and I didn’t have the nuts to even tell her goodbye or I’m sorry or good luck, I just let her walk away.
I did attend college, I did get married to my high school sweetheart a year later, and did join the Air Force another year later. When all the dust settled and I land at my first base, I find out my sponsor just so happens to be little miss Gabby herself. I had four years to do in Japan, luckily she was leaving in a few months. We partied quite a bit before she left, a habit greatly practiced by ammo troops I soon found out. Yes, if hadn’t guessed, we had the same job, both making the choice we decided way back when in yesteryear. Soon enough she left, leaving me once again. I saw her again, sooner than I thought, as we both were deployed for Desert Storm and were stationed at the same base. It made 8 months fly by, having a friend from home with me. But soon enough we rotated out to our home bases and once again we were separated again. I would see her off and on for the next few years until we ended up in New Mexico together. She had gotten married to a true asshole, I say that because he thought it was okay to beat on her regularly. A disturbing fact that was brought out to my attention one early morning when she showed up in my doorstep with a bloody nose and bleeding lip. That night a few of my friends and I payed him a visit, never before had I tried to kill someone before, but I tried that night. He got the message and slipped away quietly one day soon after, leaving a note announcing he wants a divorce.
Life went on, I divorced my wife, got out the Air Force, and so forth. Meanwhile, Gabby was determined to make a career out of the Air Force, and carried on, gaining rank, ribbons, and accommodations. After two back to back tours in Afghanistan she decided she was done, she retired as a Senior Master Sergeant (E-8) which I had an invitation to the ceremony but had other obligations, so no, I did not attend. I got a phone call from Gabby a few weeks later, announcing she had moved back to Houston and wanted to get together with my family and I for dinner one night soon. My current wife knew very little of Gabby and our lifelong friendship, since I never had a need to talk about my past much, something I’ve been working on lately, and my wife is now realizing that I treat my relationships, friends or family, and with her, very seriously, and I will guard those relationships until the end. She gets it, I think.
Our dinner out was great, everyone including my wife and kids, had a great time talking and visiting. I think my wife looks at me differently now, she never has had anyone explain how my life in the Air Force was except for me, and I tend to not talk much about the details, just keep it short and sweet, the end, story over. That dinner was two years ago, on Halloween night, a night not unlike many before it, we said our goodbyes, made future plans, and we went our separate ways. After getting settled at home, about an hour and a half after leaving the restaurant, I got a phone call from the Constable’s office to inform me that an officer was heading my way to discuss an important matter with me. Soon enough we got the knock on the door, the officer was there to inform me of a fatal automobile accident a few hours ago. Seems I was listed as Gabby’s only next of kin and also the last person she spoke with according to her phone. He explained that a truck traveling the opposite direction hit a deer which resulted in the truck losing control and colliding head on with Gabby’s truck at what was estimated at at least 80 mph, resulting in both being killed at impact. The following day I was asked to formally identify her body and yes it was her. She had a closed casket funeral due to the facial and upper body damage. A very small funeral at the Veteran’s Cemetery here in Houston, most of the people attending were my family. Her flag was presented to me, probably the hardest thing I accepted in life with exception to being 15 and presented my father’s flag at his funeral.
I have bad news for my wife, who recommended I tell this story here today in my spare time, who thought it might make me feel better if I take the time to write about my great friend and our enduring friendship, who is wrong because I don’t feel better, but I did enjoy the trip down memory lane, sort of, but I think I should come clean to y’all, the story y’all read today is only about 1% of everything that ever happened. For now y’all can assume and presume, for now y’all can filter through it all, because for now I’m very done writing about it. In case you are curious, the picture is of Gabby, I took that picture in an undisclosed location in a desert in New Mexico many years ago, alongside a deserted road, she wanted to flash somebody so bad, but after hours just the scorpions, the buzzards, and I were the only ones enjoying the show. It’s a great picture and memory of her, she truly was a graceful and free spirit.
Okay boys and girls I have a little adventure to tell you about. Very recently I found myself at the mall with my wife, my birthday present to her was not actually a present, it was a trip to her favorite stores to pick out clothes she has wanted. The longer we are married the harder it is to get gifts for special occasions. Some of y’all might actually feel the same way, plus giving someone a gift blindly is very hit or miss, what they liked yesterday may have very well changed overnight. So, I have a bad habit, I don’t buy gifts, we go places or do something or in this case we made a special trip to the mall. In general, my wife was a little confused, for the first time I wasn’t clear about the budget, sure I had one in mind since going over the budget would have cut into the bill paying. Nevertheless, I told her that she had free reign, she knows the bank account and so forth and I knew she would “shop responsibly” in the end. Plus, as a direct bonus to me, I was there to help pick out new summer attire, that is if she actually buys anything. Usually, whether for work or for street clothes, I always get to go because she wants my “opinion”. Oh well, its just the way it is.
The first place she goes into is Victoria’s Secret, a store in my opinion which has gone seriously down hill because everything is geared toward the “teen” and everything has become tame and lame. I understand business, but I remember the Victoria’s Secret from back in the day when I was dating my ex, and it rivaled Fredrick’s of Hollywood at the time. So, the moral of the story is that if you want “trashy” lingerie you need to shop at Zone D Exotica or buy it online. How can a person buy lingerie, in general, online? Anyhow, we go in because she “needs” (wants) new bras and Victoria’s secret has convinced her over the years that she can only wear their brand bras because of her figure. At least that is the line I’ve heard from them and my wife repeat. Ok, she’s 5’2″, about 115#, where’s a size 2, and sports 36DDDs. I joked with her the other day because she was feeling her age, and in a complimentary fashion I mentioned that I haven’t noticed her age because the boobs are still rockin’ all on their own. She tells me one day they won’t be that way, yea, but that day is not today! In the store she picks out a few sets of varying colors, I know this because she tells me as we go along. I don’t personally care what they look like, however I don’t care for the padded ones since she doesn’t need help squishing the boobs out. I can always convince the employees that I need to be in the fitting room with her because she cant come out to show me and model the lingerie. In 17 years I have been told no only once, and that just turned into selfie after selfie after selfie. Other husbands sit outside, looking very uncomfortable sitting in the pink and white striped boudoir chair, holding her purse, and keeping the small children in line. So, we found one bra and panty set that she was happy with, she tried on 14 sets and some more singles. I’m not complaining, I enjoy the show, in fact I love the show, I was just saying. We wait in line, pay the $72.89, and we exit happily.
She wanted some new jean shorts, tank tops, and a new bikini. I don’t know that all of those things can be purchased in one store, but we were going to give it a shot. She likes Hollister so we started there, not my favorite store, clothes are more for the teen with an assload of daddy’s money. But, she likes their jeans and jean shorts. Being familiar with this store as she comes here allot, I know that when its time to try on everything that is there barely enough room for one person, so I know I will be riding the imitation plastic leather couch, holding her purse and the remainder of the clothes. How do you try on clothes in a 2’x2′ closet anyway? She was put in the room right by the end of the couch, I could touch the door handle I was so close. One thing I hate about this store is the over abuse of perfumes and colognes people wear in a confined space. Makes my eyes water, not good when I wear contacts. Reminds me of the VIP rooms at a strip club, mixed perfumes, mixed sweat in the chairs, spilled alcohol on the floor, it generally has such a musk that it reminds me of a funeral parlor where all of the older ladies feel they must bath in their preferred scent as if to compete with all of the others. I like a lite pleasant smell, one you don’t notice until you are close to the nape of the neck, y’all know what I’m talking about. Then, BOOM, she walks out in a pair of these jean shorts that are very tight, very short, yet still tasteful enough because her vagina isn’t eating them and spilling out the leg holes. Impressive! My wife does not get into the whole “if it zips it fits” craze. She prefers comfortably snug. She tries on a few more, same style, different colors, they all look fine enough to me, but that’s not the answer we are looking for and I know it, so I go for the white pair and the blue jean pair, both show off her tanned legs nicely. Holy fuck! Two pair of shorts were $93.89 and we still weren’t done, off to the Guess store, a personal favorite of mine.
The Guess store was an utter clusterfuck with the summer sale going on, shit everywhere it wasn’t supposed to be, employees talking and texting instead of helping people out. Luckily for us, the bathing suit section hadn’t been raped and ransacked yet, well not real bad in my opinion. She picks out three that she likes and one I was fond of because it was different. She hates all of them after trying them on, looking to old ladyish for her taste. At this point in time she talks me into driving to Galveston, about a 50 minute drive for us, to go suit shopping, she wants to go back to a place she bought hers for our trip to Florida a few years back. Sure, why not, I was done with the mall anyway. We load up her bags in the trunk of the Mustang and head to the Strand, a section of Galveston that has existed since the 1800s, now its mostly shops, bars, and restaurants. While driving through Houston in average Houston traffic, meaning it was steady and thick but moving at about 75mph, my wife slips off the jeans she is wearing, surprise for me, and slips on her new white shorts after cutting the tags off. I didn’t even see her bring them into the car. Ever want to make the women in the car next to you on the passenger side blush? Have your wife changing in the car doing 80 mph passing an SUV with the woman and her boys in the back seat gawking. We arrived safely to Galveston, park, pay, and off we are walking.
She spots a few tanks in the window of the surf shop we were walking by and pulls me inside to go check them out. She was looking for the kind one wears sans bra, its a special kind from what she tells me, got a liner in it so the person wearing it isn’t pointing at everyone looking like she is smuggling raisins. I’m good either way. This is a giant store, there are racks after racks after rack of bathing suits, even the female employees were wearing tiny little bikinis. I like this place already. It was amazing to watch the guys in the store that were there with their wives, girlfriends, friends, or significant others. While watching them watching the tiny bikini clad girls walk around, bending over with straight legs, and stretching to the point that the material of their tops was at the point of failing, which would be catastrophic, boobs everywhere if it happens., I noticed that they also were selling margaritas and daiquiris, bonus. Cheap as well, I don’t prefer frozen margaritas but two giant one’s served in a souvenir style cup with a really crazy straw was only eight bucks. I hand my wife hers and away we go to start the hunt. She picked out one style she liked, only one suit too, and without showing it to me on the hanger she disappears into the changing room. I meandered over, giving her time to wiggle out of her closes and wiggle back into the suit she is trying on. She pulls the curtain back far enough for me to tie the strings on the back for her. She closes the curtain, and we know why, she needs the time to “adjust” everything so there is nothing hanging out that shouldn’t be. The curtain rips open! There she stands, my tanned wife in a white bikini, she is looking slick, she spins in the mirrors outside the changing room, and I guess she decides she is not liking it after all. I’m instructed to stand there and guard her “stuff” while she gets another. Remember I was talking about the guys in the store, well, they aren’t shy about staring, not even a little subtle, but then again, I was pleasantly watching her walk away as well. I see an employee, half her age, helping her out, pointing around and so forth, and then my wife returns. I was told she didn’t care for the first one, the bottoms felt like they were sliding inside her and she feared a very revealing cameltoe. So, she explained she was looking for “cunt huggers” not “cunt eaters” like the one she just tried on. She gets a dirty potty mouth at all the appropriate times, but I saw her point, trust me. She finds one that makes her happy, I never got to see it either, I was told it will be a surprise. While doing a secret check out, hiding it all from me, the same employee who was helping her began talking with my wife again. Apparently she is the manager of the store and thinks my wife has some talents that she would like to employ. Yes, she offered her a job on the weekends. The pay wasn’t bad, $20 an hour plus tips, part time, no benefits, but 80% of clothing in the store as long as she was an employee. Also, she would be able to use my veteran’s discount for an additional 10% off. My wife is actually considering it, she thinks it will be fun, she likes the uniform, and she thinks she would be a help to the older crowd who are a bit shyer in their needs. She has to call her by this Friday afternoon if she wants to give it a shot this weekend.
So now we walk around some more, stopping in at many more island shops, drinking many more margaritas, and finally we got back in the car, not to go home, but to head to the seawall to park so we could go walk the beach for a while. There was a beautiful sunset, we watched the sun slowly but surely descend into the depths of the horizon. Feeling hungry we walked over to a seafood place, I cant remember the name tho for some reason, but we went in, it was very laid back, had classic rock playing relatively load, but it was the coziness of it that made it a cool environment. We ordered, we ate, we talked, talked allot about this summer and what we wanted to do, we are going to San Antonio for the 4th of July weekend, which I already knew, since it is going to be my father’s day present from the kids. To sum it all up, it was nice to go out alone with my wife, something that is very rare anymore, but this is something we both committed to change starting right then. Fine with me, that’s why I married her, to spend time with her, to be able to do things together. There are many more reasons of course, but we wanted a life together to do things together. Also, we discussed the upcoming concerts for the rest of the year, told me to pick three or four so we could go. Has my wife received a headwound? She is volunteering to see rock concerts? Nice. I mentioned our vacation to Florida two years ago, I was doing something with the kids and I get a text from my wife with this picture attached, asking me if I would join her on the beach for a walk. What do y’all think my answer was?
Way back in the spring of 2001 I decided I wanted to create a blog to capture some of my personal ideas, beliefs, life, and history. It wasn’t that I had (or have now) an amazing life that I needed to write an autobiography, I just wanted a place to put my thoughts, what better way than to use the new and upcoming technology then to make a blog. My roots remain intact today, I write for the purpose of being able to “talk out-loud” to a very non-specific audience. But then again, one couldn’t really even define one’s audience back then. Fortunately for me recently, I was trolling myself, y’all might be familiar with Googling yourself, a disgusting habit, but I’m sure most of us have done it at least once. Anyway, my original of the three blogs I have started pops up as a result. Intrigued, since I thought it was dead and buried long ago, I clicked the link. It remains as the day I left it, before moving on to pursue other pastures. But when I started reading the things I was writing it all came back to me. I then located my initial post. In a minute, I will share that with you. Oddly enough, I find myself concerned in similar ways with how religion changes the lives of the most honest men and women. Fortunately for me, many years has passed, but one thing remains the same, what history writes about us will never change, good or bad, right or wrong, historical facts will remained emblazoned in time forever.
I remain, still today, as seen by my last post and some real recent ones, a critic of organized religion because, more often then not, it is personal opinion. I remind each of you that I am a full supporter of personal freedoms and we all know that each individual will always be bound for the choices he/she makes. I may criticize, ridicule, and as many accuse me of, mock organized religion, it is purely my personal opinion in life and my choice to do so. I used to think I was seeking answers, shopping which version of truth and reality I wanted to see or be a part of. Slowly but surely religion began to be pushed out of my life, becoming pointless, and I really started looking into what we all know as mainstream organized religion. Although there is personal opinions in this inaugural post of mine, there are also many historical facts. Take from it what you will, but I think after this post I will be avoiding the topic we all call organized religion for many reasons I don’t think I need to go into now. The emails used to be entertaining but they have turned into another kind of beast, a beast that I had to learn to break and learn to ride like a horse with an attitude problem.
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Let’s Follow The Money ……..
I have studiously avoided the subject of religion and politics in past conversations face to face with people, preferring to concentrate on personal aspects of our situation in the world. But, the fucking time has come to discuss it. This will be difficult reading to some Christian patriots out there. But if you have reached the level where you can accept that our government is not, nor has been, acting in our favor; that those in power lie; that “those who would enslave us” will use any means, any vehicle to achieve that enslavement; then you must examine the evidence without the rose colored glasses.
If we are indeed in a spiritual battle across the planet, then you must be able to recognize the devil in his many guises. Correct or incorrect? Next to “government”, his favorite institutional tool must surely be “organized religion”. What better way to lead the sheeple, his captured “flock”, into slavery. In my youth and even as an adult, I found myself being very uncomfortable with organized religion. At that time in my life I was, like most Americans, totally ignorant in regards to the New World Order agenda and the plot to destroy, or override our Constitution. Intuitively, I refused to allow government or religion to exercise much of a hold on me. For many years I struggled with what appeared to me to be an unsolvable paradox; How could I love my country to the extent of serving her military and believe in a God yet be fearful of my government and apprehensive of the church and organized religion?
Certain aspects of Christianity have always disturbed me since I was a very young age. The Crusades, the Inquisition, the burning of so-called witches and the distant look in a fanatic’s eye when they realize you aren’t going to fall for their particular interpretation of the Bible. Yet Christianity and the pursuit of the freedom to practice it, is directly responsible for the founding of this country I love so dear. Christians account for less than 30% of the world’s population. Are we supposed to believe that the other 70% of the world and all of the great men who were not Christians were and are still wrong? For us to believe that any one denomination, or religion for that matter, is the only way, is to deny the omnipotence of God and the mere idea of his actual existence in body, spirit, and mind.
Religion is man’s way of dealing with his mortality and the Bible used by Christians is much more than the proprietary property of one group of people. It is the foundation of two other religions, Judism and Islam. It is, in itself, the greatest tool for the civilization of mankind in existence and simultaneously the cause of most wars, bloodshed, divorces, and disagreements. The Bible is a history of tyranny and an epic saga of the determination of a few men to lead their people out of slavery. It, and the lessons it teaches, inspired our Constitution, our Declaration of Independence and our Bill of Rights. Yet, despite the recurring theme of God guiding men out of their slavery; of God giving man his freedom; of breaking his chains and protecting his chosen ones from harm by the leaders of the day; we have, allowed our so-called leaders to use it as a tool to return us to a slavery called organized religion.
Standing on a Sacramento Mountains summit in New Mexico in 1997, looking out over the perfect harmony of earth, air and sunlight, I knew without a doubt that something spectacular existed somewhere in our vast universe. Something more to explore, something more to explain, and something more than we, as men, could possibly ever have the capacity to understand. Each of us see divinity through eyes colored by their culture and surroundings, we have the tendency to believe others are somehow wrong in their beliefs. Evil men have seized upon this practice and used it to unite us against others, often ending in us fighting and dying for someone else’s favorite interpretation. Our country was created by men fleeing religious persecution, but some of those men, in turn, persecuted the Indians who worshipped God in their own way, through nature. Is it not said that God gave us the gift of free will. When we use it to persecute, prosecute, denigrate or force our belief system on others, we are giving in to the dark side of man. When we allow our greed, our envy, our sloth or any of the seven deadly sins, to guide us, we allow evil to rein. When one man, or group of men, seek to impose their morals or their dictates on another, we have tyranny. It is even more insidious when, under the guise of religion, we allow ourselves to be led down the path of slavery once more.
How is it done? An example from our history. Before World War 1 Joseph Stalin and Franklin D. Roosevelt conspired to dominate the world. It was their job to create a tension that would lead us into a world order. With most of Russia already dominated by the Communists, it fell to Roosevelt to create the same conditions here. In his sweeping measures of 1933, he stole our gold, gave it to the bankers and replaced it with a monetary system that they could control, inflating or deflating it as needed. There was still the need for an entity to replace the failed League of Nations. Alert Americans doomed that organization but Communist spy, Alger Hiss, and his buddies were waiting in the wings with the United Nations.
So, even before the war was over, the scene was being set for the installation of the UN as a ruling body, with the memory of Patrick Henry still fresh in their evil little minds, the “One Worlders” had to neutralize the danger of Christians becoming involved in politics. They latched upon the fraudulently used but oft-quoted doctrine of the “separation of church and state.” The agency used to cut the balls off the church was none other than the IRS. According to this list, excerpted from a list of 30 requirements for 501(c) (3) Churches. Put out by the Department of Treasury Internal Revenue Service Pub 1826 (9-94) Cat. no. 21096G, churches must:
1. Be incorporated (BECOME A BUSINESS)
2. Have a recognized creed and “IRS approved form of worship.”
3. Have “IRS approved code of doctrine”.
4. Have ordained ministers educated in “state accredited colleges.”
5. Be “neutral on political issues.”
6. “Have tax exempt status issued by IRS.”
7. Pastor must answer to the IRS as to “daily activities of the church.”
8. The IRS must be privy to “all financial transactions” of the church.
9. Pastor must supply “names of all donors”- make books records available.
10. May only use “IRS approved” fundraising methods.
11. Pastor will be “called to account over any stand taken against the tax system.”
12. Church “must advocate and support racial integration.” (Multiculturalism)
13. May “not” engage in activities “opposing pornography.”
14. May “not” support legislation saying “children belong to parents” rather than state.”
15. May not form a Political Action Committee nor support legislation “opposing lotteries and gambling activity.”
16. May not “oppose the public school system.”
17. May “not publicly declare” we are to “obey God rather than the government.”
These requirements only pertain to churches that want to escape paying taxes. Most businesses cannot operate at a profit today because of taxes. In fact, most small businessmen are either forced to cheat on their taxes and lie to the government simply to make ends meet and to feed their families. So the government which stole our gold in 1933, led us into a world war, imposed illegal taxation and adopted the 10 Communist planks verbatim, as stated in the Communist Manifesto, and has now invaded your churches and now controls your religion, as of 1942. Our pastors, preachers, priests and rabbi answer to the government, not God. The obedience of the Christian Coalition to the Republican party, the refusal of the ministries to endorse a true leader or to expose political corruption is now explained.
Meanwhile, Bible reading Christian Home-Schoolers are prosecuted, their children taken away because the “government court” believes unauthorized, unsupervised reading of the Bible (or the Constitution) is somehow dangerous! Guess what? They’re right! For when you read the Bible without the blinders of “organized religion” you realize you are in a constant battle against evil to maintain your freedom. If you aren’t against it, you are unwittingly for it. The Word the Bible teaches is hushed up in Church. The word you get, when you read it right, is FREEDOM. The ironic part of all this is that no religious leader has had the guts to stand up to the system, to expose the part the bankers play, or to break through the primarily Jewish control of the media. Only Louis Farrakan has been able to organize an effective protest against the new enslavement of Americans. He was able to organize a million man march and speak out against this creeping Fascism called the United States government while a white patriot group was only able to amass a few hundred. Dick Gregory led a demonstration against the CIA drug running. For all our espousal of the Constitution, God and Country, we lack the effort to bring organized religion back into control.
Feel free to look into the finances of organized religion and you will find deceipt, corruption, idolism, and money funding things you don’t even want to think about, it’s ALL a piece of history now.
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As I reviewed this very first post of mine before re-posting it here I see I used to be a little fucking angry. At what specifically or exactly why I don’t really know today. But, life was different for me back then, I had just got out of the Air Force, been divorced, and starting a new life, to include a new wife. I wasn’t a very big fan of people back then, it has taken me years to pinpoint why, but as I get older I am able to see better. Does this post from a long gone era justify my way of thinking towards organized religion today? Absolutely not, but the point I want to make is that the further I got away from religion, politics, the military, and a cheating cunt wife, I found that things began to make sense. Men are evil, nobody can deny it, it is a fact proven every single damn day. We, as human, look for a root and reason, and some continue to follow an outdated way of thinking, a way that uses FEAR as a primary tool. Do you really think that this is the right approach? Sure, we are people, we need organization, we need to be able to herd together in gatherings, but we also need room to be able to think for ourselves without being condemned for pointing out flaws in organized religion, man, government, and society.
As mentioned at the beginning of this particular post, I think I will steer away from writing about religion of any sort simply because it is taxing on the mind. It has come crystal clear that no matter what, its all just my opinion. Maybe I’m the one who is butt-hurt. I’m tired, bored, and disappointed in many things about the response this blog gets. Most of all, I realized there are many angry motherfuckers out in the world that don’t want to see anything at all. So be it, tour is now officially over. I will be returning to posts about weekends, sex, naked women, vacations, family, tattoos, music, food, cars, guns, military, The United States of America, and all the other things, people, and places I like in this world. I would like to stay away from the negative impact that religion has had on me and the world in general. If you want depressing shit about your religion just turn on the ol’ boob tube and cook your brain a little while there. Anyway, I really appreciate ALL of the email that has been coming in, even those wishing I would go to hell, ALL very appreciated. So, well, fuck, where are we taking this little ‘ol blog from Texas? I figure it like this, since I’m already driving on the road headed to hell then I better make it a road trip to remember. With everything being said, I think, all there is left to say is to remember to eat it every day, your lady will always appreciate your continued efforts.
Finally, ZZ Top with Jeff Beck will be back here in Houston. Oddly enough, I had bought tickets for my son and I to attend the scheduled concert on 12 September 2014, but do to an injury the concert was delayed, indefinitely I was thinking. These tickets were bought for my sons 13th birthday in August 2014. The rest of us go to concerts on a pretty regular basis, normally leaving my son in the wind either because of his lack of interest or his age. But, he is allot like me, really likes the classic rock versus all the garbage one hears these days. Luckily for me we have that musical interest in common, luckily he is a giant ZZ Top fan as well. So, I surprised him for his 13th birthday when I got wind this little ‘ol band from Texas was coming home to the very town of there origins and roots, Houston. Well, as I mentioned, the original date was killed off, but the new day is literally just a few days away. So, this Saturday evening, on 02 May 2015, my son and I will be going to what is his very first live concert, which is ironic, ZZ Top was my very first concert as well back in the late 70s, I think I was like 11 or 12 at the time.
Is he excited? What do you think, of course he is excited. As well, I’m very excited, I will continue the tradition that started with my oldest daughter, who is turning 25 this year, I took her to her first concert when she was 7 in Sante Fe New Mexico. Then, of course last year, she and my 3 year old grand daughter joined the rest of us here in Houston to see Kiss and Def Leopard. My, now 18 year old daughter had her first taste of a concert with me when we went and saw Metallica in Vegas many years ago, and then Iron Maiden a few years ago. The only one of my children who really shares the full spectrum of hard rock, heavy metal, death metal, and classic rock is my oldest daughter, my other two just tolerate me and “my music”, that includes my dedicated to country music wife. I thought I lost my son to country music a few years ago, but I seemed to got him back on the right track now.
So, now it is my son’s turn will dear ‘ol dad to witness another rock & roll icon and legend, ZZ Top. He’s even found an old pair of dark black big framed sun glasses he plans wearing, in tribute to their classic look and one of his favorite songs. For me, this will my third time seeing ZZ top, but my first ever for Jeff Beck. Does that make me a bad person? You’re right, it does not! We will even be arriving to the concert at The Cynthia Woods Pavilion in definite style, my wife has offered to deliver us in her new Mustang. Well, y’all haven’t heard about that story yet, but I promise I will write a short post about it following this one, it’s a pretty funny story since it began as one thing and ended another way. Anyway, we’ll have front door drop off and pick up service, kinda like one sees when mom or dad is dropping off the teens for a concert. I promise to write a post about concert night, it will be his “first time”, so I’m sure there will be plenty to write about. Until then, hasta la vista mofos!