Tag: Me Myself I

Personal stuff

Running On Empty

Bad News

Gotta tell you all that the past couple of weeks have drained my blogging batteries.  It looks like life now revolves around Chinkvirus-inspired government tyranny (e.g. calls to “cancel” Thanksgiving WTF), what the Left has in store for us when that cocksucker Biden comes to power (as it seems he must — criminal fraud wins again), and the usual celebrity-inspired bullshit.

Fuck that.  All of it.

And the mood amongst my Readers seems to be just as gloomy, judging from the tone in Comments recently.

So I’m taking a break from it all, and will spend my time between now and Monday at the range, cleaning my guns, watching Ronnie O’Sullivan playing snooker, and reading something (don’t know what, too enervated to bother).

There will be some posts, but nothing of consequence.  I don’t even feel like posting pics of guns — and when did I ever say that?

Spend Thanksgiving with your families, and screw all those assholes who are preaching doom and gloom if you do.  Some things are more important than life, and frankly, if I can’t spend time with my family and friends, there’s no point to any of it.  (I have THREE Thanksgiving dinners on the schedule:  the regular one with the kids minus #2 Son on Thursday, Friday Night Leftovers with Adopted Daughter at her dad’s new house, and Delayed Thanksgiving on Saturday with Doc Russia (who’s working at the VA in Thanksgiving Day).

Oh, and the Son&Heir is taking me to the DACA gun show at Market Hall, also on Saturday, because he wants to buy me a gun.  So there’s that.

Come Monday, we can start afresh.  I hope.

Medical Update

Health

Had my semi-annual checkup last Friday, and as usual, the Sawbones told me to go away and stop wasting his time.

Yes, for those who are interested:  I am in excellent health apart from the standard age-related issues, and plan on staying around to torment my children, snarl at the government and piss off the Usual Suspects (Commies, vegans, gun confiscators [some overlap] ).

Of course I gained weight during the Dreaded Lockdown — who didn’t? — but I have a plan in place to reduce my tonnage considerably, starting only next Monday because starting it during Thanksgiving would be an exercise in complete and abject failure, as any fule kno.

I think I’ll go to the range in a couple hours.  For a couple hours.

New Moania

Health

From The Divine Sarah at Insty (no link):

She’s quite right.  I’ve always had what my mother referred to as a “weak chest” (whooping cough as a child, winter bronchitis all my life), and when I caught a mild case of pneumonia in the early 1990s, it took about three months and massive doses of antibiotics to recover fully.  It’s the reason I quit driving for Uber when the Chinkvirus hit.

Let’s be careful out there.

Foundation Garments

Grooming

I can’t believe I’m even talking about this, but these are the times we live in.

Some men have admitted to keeping underwear for more than 20 years, a new poll has found. Clothing firm Tom Clinch conducted a poll, which found that the average British man only buys new pants once every five years.

Put me in the “5 years” category, for one simple reason.  I only wear undies from Marks & Spencer, I buy about 20 pairs at a time, and I rotate them conscientiously.

And they’re all black.  I’ve been buying these for over twenty years:

One style, one color.  Life is too short for me to waste time on stupid shit like deciding which underwear to wear every morning, but least I’m not the guy who takes 20 years to decide to get new ones.  (Seriously?)

And all that said, life is too short for me to write about this nonsense, and for you to waste your time reading it.  We now return to our regular fare of guns, Commie-hatred, ill-tempered invective and patriotic bodacious wimmens (sample below).