Bring Me That Horizon

Welcome to jennyweber dot com


Home of Jenny the Pirate



This will go better if you

check your expectations at the door.


We're not big on logic

but there's no shortage of irony.


 Nice is different than good.


Oh and ...

I flunked charm school.

So what.

Can't write anything.

= Jennifer =

Causing considerable consternation
to many fine folk since 1957

Pepper and me ... Seattle 1962



Belay That!

This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.

= Jenny the Pirate =

Hoist The Colors


I am a Blue Star Mother




Insist on yourself; never imitate.

Your own gift you can present

every moment

with the cumulative force

of a whole life’s cultivation;

but of the adopted talent of another

you have only an extemporaneous

half possession.

That which each can do best,

none but his Maker can teach him.

= Ralph Waldo Emerson =



The Black Velvet Coat

In The Market, As It Were






Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

A Pistol With One Shot

Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.

Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.

And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.

Dying Is A Day Worth Living For

I am a taphophile

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Great things are happening at

Find A Grave

If you don't believe me, click the pics.


Dying is a wild night

and a new road.

Emily Dickinson



When I am gone

Please remember me

 As a heartfelt laugh,

 As a tenderness.

 Hold fast to the image of me

When my soul was on fire,

The light of love shining

Through my eyes.

Remember me when I was singing

And seemed to know my way.

Remember always

When we were together

And time stood still.

Remember most not what I did,

Or who I was;

Oh please remember me

For what I always desired to be:

A smile on the face of God.

David Robert Brooks



 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.


Keep To The Code








You Want To Find This
The Promise Of Redemption

Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:

In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.

For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;

Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;

Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.

For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.

So then death worketh in us, but life in you.

We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;

Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.

For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.

For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;

While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

II Corinthians 4

Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Not Without My Effects

My Compass Works Fine

The Courage Of Our Hearts




Daft Like Jack

 "I can name fingers and point names ..."

And We'll Sing It All The Time
  • Elements Series: Fire
    Elements Series: Fire
    by Peter Kater
  • Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    by Danny Wright
  • Grace
    Old World Records
  • The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    Stone Angel Music, Inc.
  • Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Real Music
  • Copia
    Temporary Residence Ltd.
  • The Poet: Romances for Cello
    The Poet: Romances for Cello
    Spring Hill Music
  • Nightfall
    Narada Productions, Inc.
  • Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
  • The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    by William Voegeli
  • The Art of Memoir
    The Art of Memoir
    by Mary Karr
  • The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    by Emily Dickinson
  • Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    by John W. Harper
  • On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    by William Zinsser
  • Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    by Steven Milloy
  • The Amateur
    The Amateur
    by Edward Klein
  • Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    by Matt Barber, Paul Hair
  • In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    by Dr. Laura Schlessinger
  • Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    by Tod Benoit
  • Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    by Candace Savage
  • Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    by John Marzluff Ph.D., Tony Angell
  • Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    by Andrew Breitbart
  • 11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    by Paul Kengor
  • Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    by Bernd Heinrich
  • Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    by Matthew Rolston
  • Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    by Todd Harra, Ken McKenzie
  • America's Steadfast Dream
    America's Steadfast Dream
    by E. Merrill Root
  • Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    by Alexandra Day
  • Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    by Lynne Truss
  • The American Way of Death Revisited
    The American Way of Death Revisited
    by Jessica Mitford
  • In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    Master Books
  • Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    by Peter Schweizer
  • Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    by Brannon Howse
  • Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    by Eleanor Alexander
Easy On The Goods
  • Waiting for
    Waiting for "Superman"
    starring Geoffrey Canada, Michelle Rhee
  • The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    starring Bette Davis, Ernest Borgnine, Debbie Reynolds, Barry Fitzgerald, Rod Taylor
  • Bernie
    starring Jack Black, Shirley MacLaine, Matthew McConaughey
  • Remember the Night
    Remember the Night
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, Fred MacMurray, Beulah Bondi, Elizabeth Patterson, Sterling Holloway
  • The Ox-Bow Incident
    The Ox-Bow Incident
    starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Mary Beth Hughes, Anthony Quinn, William Eythe
  • The Bad Seed
    The Bad Seed
    starring Nancy Kelly, Patty McCormack, Henry Jones, Eileen Heckart, Evelyn Varden
  • Shadow of a Doubt
    Shadow of a Doubt
    starring Teresa Wright, Joseph Cotten, Macdonald Carey, Patricia Collinge, Henry Travers
  • The More The Merrier
    The More The Merrier
    starring Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, Charles Coburn, Bruce Bennett, Ann Savage
  • Act of Valor
    Act of Valor
    starring Alex Veadov, Roselyn Sanchez, Nestor Serrano
  • Deep Water
    Deep Water
    starring Tilda Swinton, Donald Crowhurst, Jean Badin, Clare Crowhurst, Simon Crowhurst
  • Sunset Boulevard
    Sunset Boulevard
    starring William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich Von Stroheim, Nancy Olson, Fred Clark
  • Penny Serenade
    Penny Serenade
    starring Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, Edgar Buchanan, Beulah Bondi
  • Double Indemnity
    Double Indemnity
    starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Porter Hall, Jean Heather
  • Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    starring Gary Anthony Williams
  • Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Passion River
  • It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    starring Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert
  • Stella Dallas
    Stella Dallas
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, John Boles, Anne Shirley, Barbara O'Neil, Alan Hale
  • The Iron Lady
    The Iron Lady
    starring Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Harry Lloyd, Anthony Head, Alexandra Roach
  • Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    starring Peter Sallis, Anne Reid, Sally Lindsay, Melissa Collier, Sarah Laborde
  • The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    starring Red Balloon
  • Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    starring William Holden, Don Taylor, Otto Preminger, Robert Strauss, Harvey Lembeck
  • The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    starring Ginger Rogers, Ray Milland
  • My Dog Skip
    My Dog Skip
    starring Frankie Muniz, Diane Lane, Luke Wilson, Kevin Bacon
  • Sabrina
    starring Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn, William Holden, Walter Hampden, John Williams
  • The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    starring Cary Grant, Myrna Loy, Shirley Temple, Rudy Vallee, Ray Collins
  • Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    starring Johnny Depp, Geoffrey Rush, Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley, Jack Davenport
  • Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    starring Bette Davis, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Gladys Cooper, John Loder
  • The Trip To Bountiful
    The Trip To Bountiful
  • Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
    Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
That Dog Is Never Going To Move



Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

Simple. Easy To Remember.

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When life gives you capitalism

TG and I were headed out on Saturday for some errand-doing when, at the end (or beginning, depending upon your perspective) of our street, just across the way we spotted a lemonade stand.

Said establishment consisted of a card table outfitted with poster-board signage (in addition to standard black Sharpie, liberal use had been made of a neon-yellow wide-nib highlighter), some bright kitchen towels, two lawn chairs, and two kids.

A little brother and a big sister, to be specific.

Oh. And a large Rubbermaid pitcher of lemonade sitting beside a snowy stack of styrofoam cups.

Dad was nearby, mowing the lawn. A two-story brick manse served as backdrop.

Politely earnest humidity velveted the air. Thunder burred in the distance, warning of the imminent daily summer downpour.

Cicadas wheezed maniacally in thousands of trees.

By now I'm seeing visions of apple pie, baseball, and moms in aprons.

'Murca! Land that I luv!

TG always stops to buy lemonade from kids engaged in such activities.

In fact, I do believe TG would stop and pull out his wallet if the kids were selling three-day-old dead lizards as a snack to accompany the sweet-tart beverage.

I fetched my camera and chatted up the kids while TG made change. He bought not one, but two cups of lemonade. 

When queried, the little boy admitted he did not understand all about capitalism. So I told him it was when you are free to offer a product to the public and sell it at a profit.

He understood that, as he counted a wad of cash stowed in a styrofoam safe.

While we visited, a lady pulled her car up ahead of our idling auto and came to take advantage of the sale.

She appeared to be an extremely nice American person who just happened to not be strictly white.

Everybody was happy and unfazed. Despite the best worst efforts of Barack Obama and his race-hustling minions, we have virtually no racial tensions in our neighborhoods.

We simply get along, glad to be living in the greatest country ever to exist on Planet Earth. We are courteous to one another. It is not difficult.

But I digress. Without apology, but still.

I chatted up big sister -- she appeared to be eleven or twelve years of age -- and found that she offers the service of dog-sitting in the community.

"Do you walk them?" I asked. Javier adores walkies.

"Sometimes," she said. 

Her dad, hearing the exchange, told me: "She'll send you a text and tell you how your dog is doing."

I generally know how Javier is doing -- since he's generally snoozing -- but you may rest assured that the next time I require a minder for Columbia's Finest Chihuahua, if Erica is not available I will seek out my enterprising young neighbor.

Big brother of the family is involved in a start-up too: He starts up the mower and trims lawns for pay. I don't need him yet but when/if I do, I hope he is still in business.

In other news, it wasn't long before TG and the father of the junior entrepreneurs had found out they are both Citadel graduates.

Class of '74 and Class of '92 exchanged the usual info: what company were you in, did you know so-and-so, weren't those uniforms scratchy and hot -- wait; I don't think they discussed that -- how 'bout them dawgs, et cetera.

It is kind of sad that, as the kids' mother came across her lawn and introduced herself to me, and we began chatting, I was on the lookout for the Po-Po to come by and shut the children's store down for failure to obtain a permit.

But that didn't happen. What with Governor Nikki Haley and Senator Tim Scott (who succeeded Senator Jim DeMint) and Congressman Joe Wilson making up our team, Senator Lindsey Grahamnesty notwithstanding, we live in what is still one of the most conservative states and counties in 'Murca.

God bless her. Long may she wave and long may her citizens consume lemonade sold by children who aren't lying around the house pestering their mothers.

Because you know what? This little guy's mom told me he himself makes the lemonade he purveys.

As it should be.


Happy Monday ~ Happy Week



Here today, gone today

Speaking of little princes -- which just about all of us have been, haven't we -- our grandson has been with us for a few days.

You don't have to be "royalty" to rate high with me.

Andrew arrived on Monday afternoon with his mother and sisters, who were keen to swim.

Since TG keeps our pool sparkling for just such occasions, and the weather has been more or less idyllic, we were all set to laissez les bon temps rouler, y'all.

And we did pass a good time.

Yesterday Stephanie had to go home to North Carolina. But only for a day.

And she left little Andrew with us here in South Carolina. But only for one day.

Because later today, Stephanie, with Melanie and Allissa in tow, and Erica, accompanied by baby Andrew, are headed for Knoxville where they will connect with Audrey.

Tomorrow the lot of them plan to drive up north to spend a few days with relatives.

When Stephanie and her girls left for home yesterday, baby Andrew was taking his afternoon nap.

When he got up, it was suppertime.

Like most seventeen-month-olds he gloms to his mother when she's available, but in her absence he becomes independent.

He loves to climb on things. Both the higher altitude and the adventure of achieving it hold charm for him.

Today I found him having climbed not just onto the seat of the antique school desk in the kitchen (the one Javier parks himself beneath), but onto the desk part, so as to better reach for a glass jar of shortbread cookies.

The fact that I did not have a coronary when I saw him -- I was technically not in the room when he did it, but just around the corner for a mere second -- is testament to how mellow I have become.

But that was this morning. I've gotten ahead of the timeline.

Early in the day on Wednesday, Andrew hung out in his swim trunks, accessorized when necessary by his Carolina-blue passy.

After his nap, Aunt Erica dressed him for dinner in a blue onesie with a single smiling yellow star on the front.

Speaking of smiling, and of stars:

He snagged a window table and dined semi-al fresco, looking out at a pop-up shower that covered the pool with dancing droplets and washed away two days' worth of his sisters' chalk-art efforts.

Then it was time to have a shower of his own -- he wailed the whole time -- and submit to being baby-powdered and fresh-diapered and dressed in a cute outfit to go with us to Wednesday night prayer meeting.

Once he was ready, he amused himself by playing with his basketful of jar lids.

Then, sensing the time to sortie was near, he seized his backpack and trotted toward the door.

Once there, Captain Adorable attempted to escape. But we nipped it in the bud.

He fully enjoyed the church nursery. When I went to claim him at going-home time, he was driving a car. He did not want to park it and leave.

My guess is that, his father being a pastor, church nurseries don't hold much in the way of mystery.

He was initially distraught at Erica's and my disappearance but according to the workers, the mood lasted approximately twelve seconds.

At ten o'clock on the dot this morning he went to the door that leads upstairs to the guest room where he sleeps.

He gestured up, because it was nap time and he was ready.

He's sleeping as I write, but I miss him.

I'm already planning the hot meal I'll fix for him before he leaves with Aunt Erica to go over the mountains to East Tennessee later this afternoon.

Soft chicken, potatoes, and carrots, with a dot or two of gravy. Cold milk to drink and a shortbread cookie for dessert.

And I'm trying not to think about kissing him goodbye, or the silence that will fall around me when he's gone.

UPDATE 1:05 p.m.:

Thanks to Aunt Erica and her iPad, Andrew had the opportunity to FaceTime with his parents and sisters today.

Here he is, still in his pajamas, waiting for the call to go through:

Most of the time he exulted in virtual interaction with his family, but I had to show you the moment when he looked up at me.


Happy Thursday



That's a lock

As the crow flies from our house, the Lake Murray Dam is probably less than a mile away.

Over roads, it's about three miles. Five -- maybe six -- minutes and you're there.

The roadway traversing the dam that takes motorists from the Columbia side to the Lexington side of the lake -- and back again -- is about two miles long.

Several years ago it was redesigned to include a pedestrian walkway that provides breathtaking views of sky and water.

It has proved very popular with folks keen to get a little exercise and feel at one with nature.

Walkers have only to look out over the water to witness splendid sunsets.

At its south end, about a tenth of a mile of that walkway is outfitted with cyclone fencing on the lake side.

A month or so back, TG, driving across the dam coming home, noticed what looked like dozens of padlocks affixed at random places to the chainlinks.

He mentioned them to me. We were intrigued because padlocks on the walkway fencing is a fairly recent development.

Strolling across the dam a weeks or so ago with a friend, Erica investigated.

She reported that the padlocks bore messages of love and hope.

So naturally I had to go and see them. Now I'm off to buy three tiny padlocks which I'll decorate with the names of my grandchildren.

The darlings are here visiting with me now. I hope tomorrow we can go over to the dam and find a place for their padlocks. I plan to let them toss their keys into the water.

Until I can show you pictures of that, enjoy this slide show of the eloquently poignant, completely charming custom that is the Lake Murray locks.


The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of.

~Blaise Pascal~


Happy Monday ~ Happy Week



Freedom of expression

So I wandered into my sunny kitchen this morning.

I think I had been tending to laundry -- if not that, then trust me, I had been engaged in an activity equally scintillating and fraught with meaning -- when what should catch my immediate attention but the inimitable Javier, Chihuahua of fortune.

Javier turned ninety-eight this week, on Sunday, Bastille Day. I mean, he turned fourteen. Same thing.

Which means that by October, as the leaves outside are turning bright colors, Javier will be rounding the bend to one hundred. 

To commemorate our diminutive pet's appearance on this earth, last weekend TG, Erica, and I consumed an entire Italian Cream Cake from Kroger. Not in one sitting.

And yes, the birthday boy got bites.

We keep it cool in our house so naturally, as a near-centenarian, Javier is prone to hog patches of sun.

Although when we put him outside, where it's nothing but one giant heating pad costume worn in a sloppy-humid sauna, after spending all of twenty-six seconds checking his messages, Javier scratches frantically to get back into the refrigeration.

Go figure.

Anyway this morning when I entered the kitchen, I noticed that Javier had planted his body exactly in the middle of the space between the runners of an antique school desk that sits in a light-drenched spot by a door we don't use.

When he saw me, Javier did not get up but his tail began wagging so violently, his entire hiney was waving at that door. Without leaving the floor, but still.

We believe Javier is for the most part blind, but once in awhile he confuses us by making it obvious that he sees us. Maybe like me, his vision is better in strong light.

At any rate I think he understood me when I told him I hoped he'd stay put while I went in the next room to fetch my camera.

Because when I got back, he was still there and for all the world I believe he began striking poses.

Javier employs a range of facial expressions as plentiful and widely-varied as his impressive vocabulary.

For example he is exceptionally adept at conveying -- with only a look -- nonchalance, innocence, trepidation, ennui, gormlessness, beseechment, anxiety, disdain, watchfulness, somnolence, and an attitude of meditation -- or any combination of all of the above, simultaneously.

In addition he comprehends big, important words such as crate, walk, outside, bed, food, treat, stay, stopitrightnow, no, and amnesty.

If he makes it until July 14, 2014, Javier will be fifteen or one hundred-five. Either way: old, for a dog.

But I have seen no canine version of the Grim Reaper stalking Javier, nor does Javier have a doggy old-folks home on speed dial.

Even with blighted vision, sketchy hearing, missing teeth, a thoroughly disgusting penchant for near-constant licking, and a string occasionally caught in one claw, Javier's pretty spry. He's holding his own.

Happy Birthday, Javier. And many more, little buddy.


Happy Thursday



Can't fix stupid ... or can you?

My TG is a very even-tempered man. It takes a lot to rile him.

We are not alike in that way. I may be a trifle more temperamental.

Although in my own defense I will say, I do not holler at the flatscreen when Phil Mickelson is attempting a squeaker of a putt or when whoever plays for the Chicago Bulls these days, does whatever they do in the vicinity of a basketball goal.

I save my rants for other situations. Like, I might have yelled at the screen of my MacBook Pro when I read a certain tweet on Twitter late Saturday night.

Said tweet emanated disgustingly from the account of Atlanta Falcons Wide Receiver Sharod Lamor "Roddy" White:

All them jurors should go home tonight and kill themselves for letting a grown man get away with killing a kid

And I might have let him know, in a few tweets of my own, what I thought about his opinion that six women should commit suicide just because he -- who was present neither at the altercation between the late Trayvon Martin and presumed-guilty George Zimmerman, nor at a single minute of the trial -- didn't agree with their verdict.

In a case, no less, where justice was served (if you can forget the fact that there never should have been a trial in the first place) and of which, had the individual whose death precipitated said trial not been black, Mr. White would have taken no notice whatsoever.

I don't know for a fact but I think we can extrapolate that if Roddy White bothers himself to vote, he votes Democrat. That's the party of tolerance and compassion. The party that regularly lectures the rest of us about bullying.

Mr. White, I suggest you don't look too closely at Demoncrats' demonically tireless advocacy of brutal genocide when it comes to millions of unborn black children.

Roddy White has since "apologized" for suggesting that six innocent Americans deserve to die. Wait. Make that seven.

Don't forget George Zimmerman -- neither white nor a Republican -- himself, whose death is fervently and publicly wished by untold numbers of blacks. And by many whites, too.

But I digress.

If you want to get TG hot and loud in a hurry, call him. Identify yourself as a representative of the Republican Party. Ask for money.

Then, like pranksters who ring a doorbell repeatedly and run away, you'd best hold your own phone a few yards from your ear.

Because if the words "Republican" and "your donation" come out of someone's mouth over TG's phone, the next barrage of words will be directed toward the speaker of those words.

And they won't be spoken in a hush.

We're registered Republicans who would rather die than vote Democrat, but TG will waste no time informing a fundraising caller that before he contributes a cent to the GOP, with their shameful performance in Washington DC on conservative issues, he'll send money straight to Republican politicians who actually stand up for what conservative patriotic Americans believe.

I think he usually cites Michele Bachmann and Joe "You Lie" Wilson as likely recipients of Weber donations. And it is sad that not many more names come to mind.

But I have a new name for TG. Actually, he already knows about this fellow. TG's politically astute like that.

It was in the wake of George Zimmerman's acquittal late this past Saturday that Louisiana Senator Elbert Lee Guillory (R-Opelousas) got my full attention.

Erica told me about a lady on Twitter named Alice Nelson -- @AL_Nelson -- a black woman whose bio includes this statement: I am not an African-American, I am simply an American.

And she is a conservative American. So I forgave Alice the comma splice, and I followed her, and I tweeted to my followers a recommendation that they follow her too.

Then I began perusing her media gallery.

That's when I came across a video Alice had posted on her Twitter timeline.

It is Elbert "Free At Last" Guillory's Why I Am A Republican.

Notable not so much because he's a black Republican -- there are wonderful examples of those, although not as many as I would wish -- but because Elbert Guillory changed horses mid-stream.

Or, got off a donkey and got astride an elephant. Until very recently, Guillory was a Democrat.

In fact, his switch in late May of 2013 makes Guillory the first black Republican state senator in Louisiana since Reconstruction.

As you might imagine, he has received a fair amount of harsh pushback from Democrats.

The constituents of Louisiana's 24th District who elected him, however, have shown overwhelming support for Senator Guillory's new true colors.

The explanation for that lies in the fact that Elbert Guillory was an exceedingly right-leaning Democrat. Atypical, as it were. I don't know why he ever wore their filthy mantle at all.

Despicable Them.

His record on pro-life issues, for example, is nothing short of stellar. During his tenure in the senate he has earned a 100% Life Advocate Award from the Louisiana Right to Life Federation.

His record on abortion is better, in fact, than that of some of his now-fellow Republicans.

Position on Americans' Second Amendment rights? Immaculate.

It's all there in black and white.

I thought I'd let Senator Guillory tell you himself why he is now urging members of the black community to join him in "abandoning the Government plantation and the party of disappointment."

Amen to that.


God Bless America.


Happy Monday ~ Happy Week