You Can’t Have It Both Ways

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. On yet another “rainy night in Georgia”, I am reminded by everyone I come in contact with that my services as rainman are terminated. Jokes about gathering the animals together two by two are wearing pretty thin. I’m happy with a few more days of rain before I start panicking.

Due to the inclement weather, I’ve been spending my time catching up on the news. A couple of items have jumped out at me. On the surface the items appear to have little in common, but I believe there is an underlying theme to the headlines.

The first item to catch my attention was the news that Carly Fiorina is down with torture, water boarding specifically. It is frightening to think that a candidate would feel compelled to broadcast their willingness to torture their fellow human beings as a qualification for the most important job in the world. I understand that women feel that they are at a “toughness” disadvantage, that they don’t want potential voters to feel that they are too soft on crime, etc. Torture is in another category though.

If you can get past the moral implications, and I can’t, you still have to be able to justify your willingness to break International treaties and the countless studies that torture doesn’t produce the desired result. Study after study has proven that befriending the captive works better for getting the captive to give up information. Yet, there is a dark spot in some people’s soul that can only be satisfied by inflicting unneeded pain on powerless prisoners.

Politicians that get on board the torture wagon ignore the fact that sometimes Americans are captured and we would be subject to our own policies. Carly Fiorina has just told the American forces that she so desperately wants to be Commander In Chief of, “drowning while being tied down is the price you pay for serving my presidency”. Fiorina has just lost the “moral high ground” and any international support from countries that support the Geneva Convention. Again, I get the “toughness” issue. I don’t get the willingness to ignore moral values and international law to come off as being as qualified as any man.

The second item goes to moral values as well. In fact, it made number one on God’s list, “thou shalt not kill”. Last night, the state of Georgia decided to kill a female prisoner, Kelly Gissendaner, after smacking down all of the appeals for leniency. The scales of justice were in such desperate need of balancing that, though Gissendaner’s co-defendant was given life in prison with the possibility for parole, justice needed the blood of Gissendaner to balance things out.

I know it’s a hard thing for Conservatives to get past the moral judgement, the holier than thou thought process, that can’t advance beyond Old Testament teachings. The fact that “state sanctioned” killing is still against our number one moral imperative does not impede these good Christians in their need to send the judged on to their final reward. I’d like to add a consideration for the hard liners that might supersede their need for blood, MONEY!!!!

Since 1978, California has spent over 4 BILLION dollars fighting death row appeals. One state, 4 BILLION dollars. The estimate for all states stands at 257 million dollars a year. Now, to the simple mind, like me, we should just say we’re taking the death penalty off the table. We’re going to take that money and repair roads and bridges. We’re going to build better schools and pay our teachers more. We’re going to lower taxes and provide better services, just by following the first commandment. Again, I am simple minded. I know the bloodlust won’t be satisfied in some of these folks by an appeal for them to follow their religious teachings, that’s why I’m making an appeal to their pocketbook. I’m even ok with them heeding the financial responsibility and calling it their moral responsibility, I am, after all, a pragmatic.

A bad day for moral folks, torture and execution. When will the Christians start following their own rules?


The Search For New Ben

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. On another “rainy night in Georgia”, I find myself worrying about a host of topics. First and foremost is this Saturday’s game against the unwashed heathens from the state of Alabama. They’re big, and mean, and well coached. It is an undisputed fact that most of the Bammers were genetically engineered for their future in the NFL.

Having to interrupt their destiny by playing a few years of college ball is an inconvenience, but at least some of them avail themselves of the opportunity to get an education while they roll with the Tide. Honest, it’s true, I’ve seen them. You can test them yourself by playing hangman with a graduate. But first, you have to set it up like “c””a”_. It’s rare that they won’t come up with a word in that situation.

Speaking of situations, we’ve got one over to The Full Gospel Original Church of God. As you know, our main attraction, Old Ben, headed for the tall timber after delivering his version of wrath to the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread at that fateful fish fry. Old Ben has not been seen nor heard from since. Now, most people might think this is a good thing. Who wants an eight foot timber rattlesnake with a bad disposition and a history of biting? Turns out, the whole congregation does. I hate to think that there are any misogynistic leanings in our church. It does seem like the acceptance of the new minister, the Reverend Helena Handbasket, will not be complete until she can prove she can handle the big boys. Copperheads and water moccasins and pygmy rattlers apparently don’t move the faithful like a timber rattler, and so the search is on.

Time was, finding a nice pre-owned timber rattler was an easy task in Georgia. A multitude of snake roundups were held each year to bring a little bit of the tourist dollar to some otherwise uninteresting little Georgia town. The most famous roundup was on display in Harry Crews famous book, “A Feast of Snakes”. Crews detailed the everyday life of folks whose claim to fame was an annual roundup of poisonous reptiles. These roundups would end with prizes for longest, fattest, most “buttons”, etc., and then conclude with a snake fry. Now, the description, “it tastes just like chicken” has always begged the question from me, “why don’t you just eat chicken?” A whole lot less wear and tear on the nerves. Anyway, there was a time when you could find a big timber rattler that was “used” to people, or at least, not ornery. Not so much anymore after the SPCA folks have been butting in to the roundups.

The most famous snake hunter to grace these mountains looking for timber rattlers was Steve Irwin. Yeah, that Steve Irwin. Why wouldn’t a fool that faced off with cobras that immobilize their victims by spitting in their eyes, not be interested in facing off with the biggest and baddest America has to offer? I’ve included a video of the encounter at the bottom of this entry. It is of one of the funniest episodes I’ve seen. Follow closely and you’ll see that while Irwin is climbing over boulders looking for rattlers he positions himself for the cameraman so that Irwin and the snake are in the same shot. Only after positioning himself in a squat over two rocks does Irwin recognize that he has squatted directly over another rattler. If the rattler strikes, the first thing in the way is Irwin’s family jewels. Lucky for Irwin it was a cold fall day and the snakes were sluggish. Irwin escape with his testicles and dignity intact.

Mean time the search goes on in earnest for a New Ben, so that the Revered Helena Handbasket can prove her mettle. I’ll be happy to contribute anything I find here at TackyToo. I’m restricted in my movements, you remember.

Steve Irwin’s finest moment:



Washed In The Blood

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. In spite of the cloudy, rainy skys, I am basking in the glow. The Bulldogs are heading into their life or death conflict this Saturday, without injuries or incarcerations. Lest you think I am too critical, please look at the rosters of Auburn and Louisville for some of our prior prison fodder. We will be healthy in body and spirit when we take on the interlopers from Tuscaloosa in what will be a grudge match for the ages.

Speaking of spirit, and incarcerations, things have not quietened down at The Full Gospel Original Church of God. Mulva has gotten to where she is just pecking at her meals and I’m afraid if this conflict continues on much longer I may have to get involved. Believe me, no one wants that too happen. This week’s trials and tribulations are primarily centered around the disintegration of the marriage of the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread and his wife Alva. The Nunsuch police, my son Bud Jr., has rightly concluded, that Mrs. Bread will not have to face criminal charges for rousing the snakes before the Reverend started his show. I agree with Bud Jr.’s judicial jurisprudence in this matter. While not exactly the “Christian” thing to do, there is no reason to take the mother of seven children away from their Mom because of a brief spat of anger.

Turns out that forgiveness is one of things the Reverend Bread is needing to work on. After finding out that Bud Jr. wasn’t going to lock up his wife, Reverend Bread had his attorney file a civil lawsuit wrapped around the idea that Mrs. Bread’s actions caused him to lose his job, and therefore injured the Reverend financially. I guess he’s hoping for some sort of verdict that gets him clear of alimony. I reckon he figures paying child support for his seven little ones is going to be punishment enough for his dalliance. The Reverend must be overwhelmed by the prospect of losing his life’s work, his calling, at the same time that his financial burdens are going to skyrocket.

As previously detailed, the Elders of The Full Gospel Original Church of God decided to stop paying the Reverend Bread when they decided to retain the Reverend Helena Handbasket. The Elders had graciously allowed the Bread family a month’s notice before they had to vacate the spacious double wide that is the church’s rectory. Now, Alva and the children have to be out by the end of the month to allow the Reverend Handbasket to move in. The Reverend Bread has already made “other arrangements”. Rumor has it that the Reverend has moved in with the choir director, Ophelia Bottoms. What a pickle.

Speaking of pickles brings me back around to Mulva’s inability to eat. Mulva has just not shown any gusto at the table ever since all of this affair has gone wonkyjaw. Mulva has been lobbying hard that we make a place for Alva Bread and the kids here at TackyToo.

Now, my mind is saying,”that is the Mother of all bad ideas”, but my mouth says, “let me see what I can do”. Mean time I’m trying my best to get everything rented up so we don’t have any spaces. It’s easier to avoid conflict if you can, I believe, particularly with the person that cooks your meals. I’ve got a couple of days to hang the “No Vacancy” sign, or I’m going to inherit a group of freeloaders. It is hard to do the right thing, sometimes. 

Speaking of the right thing, Mulva brought me back this picture of the sign in front of the church. Pretty good advice, I think:




This Is Our Year – Southern University

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. On a rainy day in Georgia, my worst fears were recognized, as the wet conditions prevented my Dawgs from achieving the 55-0 victory I predicted yesterday. I had all of my mojo set right for the game. I had the Subway sandwiches on time, I was dressed to the 9’s in my UGA regalia and Butts the wonder dog was in his favorite spot. The folks at TackyToo were ready for a beat down.

The Dawgs squeaked out a 48-6 win in Athens over the Jaguars of Baton Rouge. Like their band, the Jaguars came to play, but ultimately they were no match for the boys in red. In a game that started slow, 3 and out by Southern and a Georgia drive ending in a field goal, I feared the Bulldogs were going to revert to their old bad habit of “playing down to the level of their competition”. Our offensive line seemed less than inspired, as Chubb attempt after Chubb attempt were stuffed by the Southern D. Thank goodness, Greyson Lambert had not forgotten his raison d’etre, as he connected on all of his attempts but one. Lambert was sacked for the first time this season, but he held onto the ball. Good on him.

In a rather uninspired first half, the Bulldogs led 20-6. Southern led Georgia in rushing yards 28 to 27 in the first half. I’ll let that one sink in for a moment. Fortunately, the passing yards were 91 to 29 in favor of the Dawgs.

A new attitude seemed to inspire the boys in the second half as they took the opening kickoff and proceeded to drive down the field for a touchdown. Chubb finished up the drive with a nine yard touchdown run. Chubb ran for more yards in this drive than the entire first half. Somebody must have lit a fire for the O line at half time. They look like they got the message that a game was being played today. After this score, the rout was on. Here are some highlights:


Nick Chubb, 139 yards rushing, 24 yards receiving,  3 touchdowns, 12th straight hundred yard game tying Herschel’s record. He is a monster if given a little effort by the O line.

Greyson Lambert, 9 of 10 passing for 146 yards and 2 touchdowns. Another touchdown was called back on a ticky tacky call. It was the touchdown the Georgia fans have been calling for all season, Malcolm Mitchell on a go route. Malcolm was three yards behind the defender and the pass was perfect.

Sony Michel continues to look like another world beater and added 75 yards rushing and 7 yards receiving.

Malcolm Mitchell added 96 yards in receptions and caught some balls in tight places. His penalty negated touchdown was a thing of beauty.

Isaiah McKenzie added 74 yards in receptions and 5 very exciting yards in punt returns.

I was very happy that we emptied the bench in the fourth quarter and gave a lot of Bullpups the opportunity to get playing time.

Defense – Came to play and appeared to not having gotten the memo to take the first half off. They held the Jaguar offense to under 200 hundreds for the game and were in control the whole way. The D played just like we expect our defense to play, controlled mayhem. Let’s hope they show the same amount of dominance next week. I’d love to get to the 4th quarter against Bama and start subbing in the Freshman again.

Special teams – Did not disappoint, and that’s a big improvement. We have got to have absolute concentration next week or we might be the victims of trickeration.

Coaches – I love the half time adjustment. It seems like we’ve found a coach that can inspire at half time instead of console. I like the boys playing like their heads are on fire. Whoever is pumping the boys up at half time, turn up the volume!

Speaking of turning up the volume, the Southern University marching band:



The Pope’s Still Here, The Pope’s Still Here

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. Look out the window, folks. The rain I wished for is still coming down. My position of rainman is firmly solidified and the only downside I see is if the wet conditions will effect my Dawgs today. I’m not expecting another record setting passing performance, particularly with a wet ball, but I would like for us to sling the rock a few more times before Bama gets here. I’m expecting a shutdown on defense, final score 55-0.

Speaking of shutdowns, the king of shutdowns is retiring. While I expected there was going to be some positive results of the pope’s visit to America, I didn’t expect anything this quick. I also didn’t expect a seismic shake like John Boehner deciding to give up his number three spot on the ascendancy chart to someone else. I guess Big John figures that if the powers that be can trot a known Papist Socialist onto the floor of the House for a speech, then the times, they are a changin’. The fact that the pope got a standing ovation from a speech delivered in broken English didn’t make The Boner feel any more secure in his position, I guess. In fact, Boehner wept though much of the pope’s speech. Public weeping is kind of Boehner’s thing. Another thing Boehner is know for is knowing which side of his bread gets buttered. Boehner was once sanctioned for an incident related in this snippet from Wikipedia,In June 1995, Boehner distributed campaign contributions from tobacco industry lobbyists on the House floor as House members were weighing how to vote on tobacco subsidies.custom.”  As we can see, impropriety would not get in the way of Boehner carrying the mail for the people who kept him in tanning beds and golf trips. It’s the American way.  Speculation abounds as to who Boehner’s replacement will be. My guess is a right wing fundamentalist who believes in his religion more than he believes in democracy. I’m giving 100 to 1 odds, if you’re interested.

Speaking of fundamentalists, the pope also visited the 9/11 memorial and gave a stirring speech to the gathered throngs. Now, as I have recorded here, I’m not sure who did what to whom on 9/11. While watching the service, I remarked to Mulva that I was afraid that by the pope being there that it might somehow legitimize the idea that America was attacked by Muslim fanatics who, “Hate us for our way of life”. I feel like there’s already way too much knee-jerk reactionism to the Islamic question, and by throwing a billion plus Catholics into the fray it will not make things better. I continued on for a while, as is my way, before Mulva caught me short.

“Maybe he’s just there praying for the three thousand innocent souls who lost their lives that day, no matter who is at fault.” Well, if there’s anything I hate worse than a rational, cogent, well thought out argument to one of my rants, I don’t know what it is. Game, set, and match to Mulva. After Mulva’s rejoinder, I reflected on the people who went to work that day and never came home. Who ever was at fault, it is still a tragedy. I just hope justice will be served in my lifetime to the conspirators in the U.S. We’ve already bombed everybody else we can think of. I leave you today with a funny from the Keystone Progress Daily Funnies:

Go Dawgs!


The Pope Is Here, The Pope Is Here

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. I’m feeling divinely connected today. I wished for rain yesterday, and lo, let there be rain. It’s like I’ve got a special power or something. I’m thinking maybe I can be the special rain consultant over to The Full Gospel Original Church of God. At worst, I can develop an over and under like 11 Alive, and hang a sign in the rec room boasting my accuracy. It’ll be great for my church cred.

Speaking of church cred, who’s got more church cred than the pope, right? In case you’ve been living in a cave, or Alabama, the holy pontiff is making a tour of the good ol’ U.S.A. right now. I happen to have been deeply touched by the pontiff last night when I tuned into my favorite news show, the NBC Nightly News, no longer with Brian Williams. The new feller, Lester Holt, does a fine job, but he is not the seasoned veteran Brian Williams is. I was settled down in my barcalounger, ready to hear about the top news story of the day, a genetically engineered cross over of a farm animal and a transportation device. I believe they called it a “duckboat”. Seems there was this “duckboat” that had run amok in Seattle with deaths and injuries and all sort of mayhem.

But first, we’ve got to watch the pope ride another genetically altered vehicle, called the popemobile, about a quarter of a mile to church. Now, I’m going to cut the pope a lot of slack here, he’s 78, and walking a quarter of a mile is probably too much for a man in his stage of life. I also gather that there’s about a bajillion folks in New York City that want to get a glimpse of his popeness as he passed by. For times like these, the pope’s entourage carry a Jeep that looks like it was designed by the folks at Tupperware. The popemobile has a snap down lid on it.

Now, I give the pope great props for tooling around in a micro Fiat, very consistent with his ecological message, but this popemobile has got to get about 12 miles to the gallon. I guess it’s good they only use it for a quarter of a mile at a time. Anyway, the pope finally arrives at this monster of a church that I forget has had how many hundreds of millions of dollars spent on it. The pope pops out and, like Edwin Edwards at a crawfish festival, starts shaking hands and kissing babies with everyone in sight.

I look at the Dr. Pepper clock on the wall and we are approaching the 7 o’clock hour, and the folks at NBC don’t look motivated to move from the church. I take the time allocated to the long slow walk of the pope down the aisle of this monster church and use it as an opportunity to go to the head. When I get back, his popeness has just reached the altar of the church and is taking deep breaths in anticipation of delivering a long sermon. I know, I have seen that look many times before, just not in a Catholic church.

It is 7 o’clock and Lester and his friends have to say goodbye and relinquish their time to “Wheel of Fortune”. I am aghast. I have no information as to what set this “duckboat” off on its killing spree. What if “duckboats” rapidly reproduce and the streets of Nunsuch become overrun with genetically engineered, mentally fragile, hybrids? How is the general public supposed to respond?

I am prepared for the Zombie holocaust, I have no idea how to handle the “invasion of the duckboats”. For this, I blame Lester Holt and his lack of experience. God, I miss Brian Williams.


What’s In A Name?

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. Fall is in the air, I just wish we could get some more rain. I am aware of,”be careful what you wish for”. An abundance of precipitation is not a good thing in the Winter months, I just need it while stuff is still trying to grow. I’m still getting tomatoes and peppers from the garden. I just need a little rain.

Well, I sent out all of my cease and desist letters to the folks I found violating park rules in my cursory walk around. I’ll turn up more violations as people call and ask for repairs, I’m sure. The stuff they show on the outside is the tip of the iceberg compared to what they hide on the inside. It will all work out, it’ll just take a while for the folks to get used to the “sheriff” being back in town.

While I was signing the cease and desist letters I got to thinking about my name, and the history of the Lites.

First off, let me say I was Bud Lite long before Budweiser stole my name. As much fun as I’ve had over the years answering the call of, “I’ll have a Bud Light”;  I feel I’ve also been unfairly burdened by the popularity of the beer. I can assure you the Budweiser folks did not come to me and say,”we’re going to make a beer that tastes like salted tap water and make it the most popular brand in America, do you have a problem with the fact that it’s named after you?”. Well, I’m sure in my ignorance I would have said, “cool” and looked forward to the notoriety. In retrospect, if offered, I would have said, “I want a cut of the profits from this bad tasting beer that’s going to forever brand me”. Woulda, coulda, shoulda. “If a bullfrog had wings he wouldn’t bump his hiney”, Granny Waller used to say. It’s all water over the duck’s back now.

Getting back to the Lite family name, Granddaddy Lite was something of a scholar, and he spent an unusual amount of time tracing the Lite ancestry. Long before there was a Google and an internet, Granddaddy Lite had tracked our ancestors back to Ireland. Apparently, our kin folks came over during the Great Potato Famine. Like so many of the Irish folks before him, Great Great Great Granddaddy Lite felt a kinship to the Appalachian landscape. Farm land that was filled with rocks reminded him of home, and he secured a suitable plot to raise a family. The Lites got here just in time to fight in the Civil War. Because Granddaddy Lite’s grandaddy was a land owner, he was a Captain in the rebel army. We don’t know of any war exploits, and he apparently returned with all of his appendages. My Granddaddy Lite was born on the same farm in 1901. All of my aunts and uncles were born there too. The farm was filled with good memories for me.

One of those memories was asking Granddaddy Lite why we spelled our name Lite instead of Light or Lyte. His response was that some people couldn’t read nor write when they got to Ellis Island and had to rely on the customs agents to hear what they were saying and record it correctly. Until I visited Ireland, I always thought it was the other folks that had arrived here ignorant. There ain’t a Lite in the whole of Ireland, I checked the phone book. Turns out, it was my folks who couldn’t spell Lyte for the customs agent. I guess the accent didn’t help any either, but not knowing how to read their name was the big factor.

Further examination reveals that my far off kinfolk even had a coat of arms. Imagine a coat of arms for your brand, instead of a label that says, “The perfect beer for removing ‘no’ from your vocabulary for the night.” Now, don’t get me wrong, that’s a wonderful sentiment in the right setting, but a coat of arms would have been way cooler. I might even allow coats of arms to be posted on the lots here at TackyToo. That would certainly class up the place.

So, for every descendant of every immigrant who has had to endure the incorrect spelling of their name due to their ancestor’s ignorance, let me just say, “this Bud’s for you”.


Sign, Sign, Everywhere A Sign

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. Freedom is a wonderful thing. The extended range of my new anklet lets me roam the entire property now without going off like a fire alarm. My first complete tour of TackyToo in nine months has revealed quite a few violations.

I’ve used the new iPhone Mulva bought me to record the transgressions. We’ll be sending out notices of cease and desist in the mail to the tenants that have overstepped their bounds. I find that the U.S. Mail is far less confrontational than I am.

images2Speaking of confrontational, a lot of folks have decided to broadcast to everyone that they are perfectly capable of handling their own security. Outside of our peeper, we’ve been crime free here at TackyToo as long as I can remember. No need for armed rednecks in my opinion.


Seems like some folks objected to the Big Brother methods used to catch our peeper and decided to post a “heads up” to other would be criminals. I guess the sign is as good a deterrent as those “Protected By” signs in the fancy neighborhoods. I may leave this one up, I’ll have to find out who to reimburse if I do.


There’s no mistaking the intent of this homeowner who felt compelled to post these signs:






I was particularly impressed with his advice for the C.S.I.

images1We don’t take kindly to the free market at TackyToo, unless of course it’s us doing the marketing.images5




Same goes for political signs. This one is quite the puzzler because Rabun county is two counties over to the East. The folks that live here aren’t kin to the candidate, so I’m wondering if this is an attempt at humor, or pop art. Trailer park folk can be quite creative, but I’ll not question them directly about it. I’m avoiding confrontation, you know.


You have to admire this fellow courageously posting his life’s mantra on his driveway right next to his mailbox. I looked for the sign that usually accompanies this sign, you know, the one that says, “It’s always time for a drink”. I guess someone else had grabbed the companion sign. I’m sure it will pop up.

There are a few outright violations, like this fire pit built in between two propane tanks. Folks will do the strangest things to try to emulate the people they see on the show “Cribs”. This homeowner must have asked himself, “If “Little Jay” can have a fire pit in his yard to hang with his “homeys”, why can’t I?” Well, because it’s a dumb stupid idea and against the park rules. That’s why.

images13The kicker was this little bit of art work left by my “Lawn Care Specialist”, in response to his dismissal. The artwork was entitled “Bird Flu”. Unfortunately, I stomped the sign into oblivion before snapping the picture. I guarantee you, I will be answering questions for months to come about whether folks should get another flu shot or not.

“Bud, is this really turkey?”, will be the question at Thanksgiving dinner. Yeah, that specialist got me good.

Well, as you can see, lot’s to do, better get at it.


Tom’s In The House

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. At the risk of being called a dang fool, I’d like to officially say I feel Fall in the air. With lows in the mid 50’s and highs in the mid 70’s, I feel a definite change in the weather. Cooler weather puts a “Spring” in my step, and it comes just in time. I can now “roam the range” here at TackyToo, and I’m going to return to my full custodial duties. That “Lawn Care Specialist” we’ve been paying can go specialize somewhere else for $60 an hour. I don’t need no stinkin’ specialist.

Speaking of unneeded specialist, I’d like to bring up the current number two presidential candidate from the Republican party, Dr. Ben Carson. After watching him in the Great Debate II, I noticed his total deference to all things Donald, even to an outrageous stupid medical opinion. My immediate thoughts were, the fix is in, The Donald has made a deal for his vice-president.

Now, after Dr. Carson has come out saying that, “No Muslim” is capable of being a good president, I think Dr. Carson has a much deeper problem. It’s called “Tomism”, and his particular version goes very deep. I’ve done some searching on the internets and came up with a great page devoted to the Dr. Carson question. The name of the page is “Campaign for America’s Future” and they have provided the videos to support their contentions. I’ve copied some highlights for you:

  1. Not Taxing Poor People is “Condescending” – “I like the idea of a proportional tax, that way you pay according to your ability, and I got that idea, quite frankly, from the Bible, tithing. “
  2. Obamacare Is Like “Slavery, In A Way” – Obamacare was “the worst thing that has happened in this nation since slavery,” 
  3. The President Can Ignore The Supreme Court
  4. Anti-Gay Bakers Might Poison Gay Wedding Cakes
  5. Prison Proves That Being Gay Is A “Choice” -“a lot of people who go into prison, go into prison straight, and when they come out, they’re gay.”
  6. We Should Stop Being Mean To The Police, Because It Makes Them “Timid”
  7. Protests Against Police Violence Help ISIS And Al Qaeda –“because young African-American men like Michael Brown” are getting killed by the police because they “never really learn how to relate to authority in the proper way.”
  8. President Obama May Be Guilty Of Treason
  9. President Obama Is Engaged in a Leninist Plot To Destroy The Economy
  10. President Obama is a “Psychopath”
  11. There May Not Be A 2016 Election – “because Obama will refuse to leave office”
  12. The U.S. Is “Very Much Like Nazi Germany”
  13. God Gave Him The Answers To His College Chemistry Final

Well, like the fly in the nudist colony, I just don’t know where to begin. I’m going to give Dr. Carson a pass on hearing voices during tests; haven’t we all searched the infinite for answers during an exam? The fact that a white man with a white beard in long flowing robes spoke to Dr. Carson directly regarding a chemistry test is a question for theologians, and psychiatrists. 

Now, for the rest of it, let me start with the old adage of never using the words all or every. If one assumes that all Muslims are not qualified to be President, one could assume that every Black man is not capable of being President. The very wide brush that Dr. Carson likes to paint with can also be used to hide him as well. Apparently, Dr. Carson has lost sight of that.

It appears that Dr. Carson has “integrated himself” so well that he no longer sees a black man in the mirror. Like Samuel Jackson’s character, “Stephen”, in the movie “Django Unchained”, Dr. Carson identifies with his tormentors. Dr. Carson is perfectly willing to lay the lash to any of the unsuspecting masses placed in his care. He just needs some rich white folk to tell him who to “lay the wood to”.

My guess is a President Carson would be happy to enforce a “back to Africa” movement to help cleanse America of one of its problems. The gigantic Trump wall will protect us from our other problem. Then, America will be safe for good God fearing white folk, like Dr. Carson.

There is a lot to be feared on the Republican debate stage. A man that turns against his own race should be at the top.


Put Your Hands In The Hands

BudLiteGood morning, y’all. What a fantastic day to be alive. The biscuits tastes better, the gravy tastes better, and the chickens have been fried to perfection over in Athens. Since I don’t follow pro football, I’m coming out of the weekend a winner, and it feels great! Considering my recent increase in roaming range, it’s been a banner week for ol’ Bud. Not so much, for some of the other members of the TackyToo community.

Before I relate some of the downside of the week, let me make Lite of the situation:

Did you hear the one about the choir director that chased the pastor around the church?

She caught him by the organ.

My granddaddy Lowe told me that joke when I was about 10. I didn’t get it then, but I certainly do now.

Mulva has reported that the scandal between the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread and Mrs. Bread is reaching Biblical proportions. One parishoner, Constance Winer, claims to have seen Mrs. Bread abusing the snakes prior to the snakes being moved outside for the fish fry. It sounds like any snake that the Reverend Bread chose to work with would have been less than amenable to the Reverend. The fact that it was Old Ben, was just luck of the draw.

Seems there are now discussions of whether law enforcement has a place in the conundrum or not. My take is no, the Reverend knew the risks, and all that the Mrs. Bread did was raise the odds for disaster a little. Sort of like adding the second bullet to a gun in Russian roulette. Mrs. Bread didn’t make the Reverend pick up the gun, er, snake. We’ll see how it plays out. Law enforcement can show tremendous restraint in involving themselves in family matters, sometimes.

I try to steer Mulva towards a more positive development, the popularity of the replacement minister, the Reverend Helena Handbasket. The Full Gospel Original Church of God was once again packed to the rafters. Folks were coming from as far away as Atlanta to see the Reverend Handbasket wield her otherworldly magic with the serpents. Now, admittedly, the Reverend Handbasket was not working with a timber rattler yet, Old Ben has yet to be replaced. But the Reverend Handbasket‘s showmanship was without parallel, and the Elders were going to have a hard time denying her request to pay her as much as “any man”.

Truth be told, misogyny is the 11th commandment for organized religion. Very few religions allow the ordination of women into their clergy. In this regard, the Church of God is forward thinking.

Probably the most famous female clergy was Aimee Semple McPherson, a Pentecostal evangelist in the early to mid 1900’s. Her use of the radio to broadcast her sermons was the precursor to modern day televangelism. In her day, Aimee Semple McPherson was the most widely known Christian evangelist. She is widely credited with reviving the evangelical movement. Through private donations, McPherson built the Angelius Temple, considered to be the largest single Christian congregation in the world. The church was believed to have hosted over 40 million visitors in the first seven years of operation.

As we all know, scandal seems to follow success like smell on a skunk, and Aimee Semple McPherson was not without her alleged scandals. Extra marital affairs, a possible fake kidnapping and financial issues plagued Mrs. McPherson in her later days. She died in 1944 of a possible drug overdose. Over 45,000 people attended her wake. Today her church claims over eight million followers and her legacy has tentacles throughout the evangelical movement all over the world.

I suggest to Mulva that maybe we’ve got a new Aimee Semple McPherson in our midst. Paying the Reverend Helena Handbasket might be the prudent thing. We’ll see what the Elders think.