Heartfelt Thanks

I want to take a couple of inches here to thank you, O My Readers, for continuing to support this back porch of mine with your hard-earned dollars, especially in these times of Fuck Joe Biden Inflation.

Yesterday, I went over to the Sooper-Seekrit mailing address (SSMA), and found a small package from Britishland addressed to me.  Longtime Reader Mike X found he had some US$ left over from a business trip, and sent it over with the statement that it was not worth changing back into sterling, ergo why not send it to Kim, considering all the reading pleasure he’d got from my fevered scribblings over the years?  (It was not a small amount of money, by the way, and some of it was promptly exchanged for 9mm ammo at the shooting range soon thereafter;  story to follow.)

He’s not the only one.  Several of you have held your noses and added (and in some cases increased) a monthly contribution through Patreon, and I am often surprised by a random check arriving at the SSMA containing a check with a note saying something like “I just got a large bonus and thought I’d share some of it with you” which, as I said above, is no small thing during the Bidenflation Years.

One Reader actually apologized for the amount he’d sent, but confided that of late he’d been spending quite a lot on a particular woman of Ill Repute, Low Morals, Large Appetite For Liquor, and Advanced Sexual Prowess, so he couldn’t afford more.  (Hey, as long as you’re not wasting the money, Dave…)

All in all, your generosity makes this all possible and my life more bearable.  Many, many thanks.  Below are a few tokens of my appreciation.

Coup De Grâce

I said yesterday that the three-day orgy of food (a.k.a. family Christmas feasts) was over, that I’d eaten enough for twelve Ethiopians and drunk enough for four Irish navvies, etc. etc. etc.

I lied.

Or rather, I forgot that we’d promised to take Brother-In-Law for some Mexican food for lunch yesterday.

And that we’d planned on dinner with Doc Russia and his exquisite wife later last night.

So of course we did both:  quesadillas, fajitas, chimichangas and so on, accompanied by the usual margaritas (at Gloria’s);  and beef short ribs, pineapple sponge cake with ice cream, and whiskey plus red wine (at Doc’s).

I now look and feel like Monty Python’s Mr. Creosote, understand how an actual python feels when it’s swallowed, say, a large pig, and I have lost the will to live.

Here’s a picture of a gun to keep you all happy:

And please excuse me while I go off and groan for a few hours.

Boxing Day Blowout

Yesterday we hosted the family for our traditional Christmas breakfast:

…but that was yesterday.

Today is Boxing Day, which for our family is as important as Thanksgiving.

Oh yes… ’tis the time that famille du Toit has its Christmas Day dinner (a day late but certainly not a dollar short):  roast beef, roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding, this year all ably prepared by Daughter and hosted by the Son&Heir at his place.

See y’all tomorrow.