So. You might think that the recent Texas Republican US Senate primary results would have my rankles so mangled that it would be all I could speak to. Hell, you might even think that I would be so rankled that those politics would be all to which I would speak.
But alas and dangling prepositions be damned, the fact that Texas Repubbies chose a Sarah Palin endorsed Tea Party Chinese jobs-supporting lawyer hack over Governor Prick Perry’s endorsed Lt. Pretty Boy David Dewhurst has barely registered on my ADHD-addled mental gyroscope. Texas politics is getting even more radically right-wing stupid and it has barely registered on my radar.
You might also think that I’m so pissed that asshole Christians flocked to show their solidarity with Chik-Fucka-Buckets that I stopped by at the lunch hour yesterday and flashed my ass at them. OK, you’d be right on that one. And, “Yes, Virginia, those handsome and quite manly hairy butt cheeks were mine on display as you waited in the long line to order your hormonally-enhanced soggy fried sandwich.”
I didn’t even know that those assholes had a rally planed or I would have made a sign to accompany my ass flashing. One side would have said, “Fuck Chik-Fucka-Buckets,” and the reverse might have been, “Everyone in this line is a bigoted asshole!”
Not very creative but as I say, I didn’t give it any thought in the altogether at all.
Nope, I’m riding a high these days—the high of dry mountain air and Enchantment. I’m loading the car today and leaving early in the am for Santa Fe! Two weeks this time while I get the new casita ready for Johnson family occupancy. I’m taking the dogs and the fucking cat this trip and we’ll be camping out of sorts. I have an air mattress and some canvas chairs for furniture and enough kitchen stuff to make simple meals.
Squirt told me that Yoda has already asked if he’ll be able to, “Mark all of our territory,” in the two short weeks of this stay. We started marking the three thousand acres here to the ranch a couple months ago and still aren’t done.
“Don’t worry, little guy,” I told him. “You can cover the new place once a day if you wish.”
Tears welled in the small puppy’s eyes as he thought of a manageable territory. Dogs like to have limits and parameters in their behavior patterns, just like kids.
I’m finding that the closer I am to New Mexico the less I care about Texas and it’s slippery slide towards right-wing Hell. I’m even starting to like my buddy Squatlo’s idea about encircling the entire state with a fifty-foot razor wire fence and then just dumping all of our country’s “right thinkers” inside. Let them call it The United State of Bigotry for all my give-a-shit. Knowing that Theo is moving to Austin has helped cement the building blocks of this idea.
But again to quote my Gram, “Who gives a shit, Mooner. Yer gonna be off over there to tha Land of Enhancements an’ I’mma be stuck here with yer fuckin’ mother. Now fetch me another beer an’ quit yer bitchy achin’”
That was last night as we sat on the flagstone patio watching smoke curl skyward from the BBQ pit. “It’s Land of Enchantment, Gram, and do you know how much I love you?”
My randy old grandmother cocked her head my way, smiled a wicked grin and replied, “Don’t you go getting’ all sedimental on me, boy. Now fetch me that beer an’ git them ribbies off’n tha fire. I’m hungry ’nuff ta eat a goat.”
I kissed the top of her head and she swatted me half-assedly. The ribbies were tasty and Mother was lucid during dinner and spreading the good cheer that Chick-Fucka-Buckets had record sales yesterday. Mother thinks that America has finally reached moral high ground.
My take is that America has achieved record levels of insanity and has reverted to its level of civilization found in the early 1800′s. At least in some states, like Texas.
But I frankly don’t give a flying fuck, my dear. I’m off to Santa Fe.
Manana, y’all. (Maybe)