I’m hoping that the next move is the last one. It’s definitely enough land to live off of, even with the (essentially) worthless horses. The question is how fast I can get to the point of food independence, should I have the wherewithal to do so. Going to be a lot of work getting it into shape for that, so I have to hope my body won’t give out on me before the systems are built up, and that I can make steady progress toward it as the years pass.
America.
Right here: 
Or, if you’re not the social type, here, off by yourself:
Pay no attention to the fact that the deck currently has no rails. That has NOTHING to do with the plans for MJ’s “disappearance”. We’re ordering the wire this week, and hopefully that will be rectified.
Perhaps you’d want to zip around the lake on one of our jet skis!!! For the low, low price of a glass of wine paid to me, this can happen.
My crack mechanic (#2 son Matt) is at work getting them in top condition as I write:
We have TOP NOTCH accommodations here at Chez Car in and this can be had at a very reasonable rate *
*again a nice hearty glass of wine, and whoever needs it/asks first
I got a bunch of these cool light things for the deck, but I haven’t figured out how exactly I’m going to put them up:
I may try something new while I have guests, and as soon as I figure what this guy is saying I’ll try to whip some of this up. I don’t know how many more times I’m going to have to watch it …
There’s sure to be some awesome music on the deck too as I give everyone a very complete presentation of what’s currently rotating on my playlist.
And don’t forget the real reason for coming to Lapeerpalooza …
He’s dirty.
He’s smelly.
But he’s 155 pounds of pure love. Let’s all have a nice round of applause for MOOOOOOSE.
(not actual size – this is from last year)
Well, i don’t know what the heck else I can do to convince everyone?
Maybe this – one last picture of moose:
Hello tucklovers. This week, we pause from our admiration of large breasted women (trigger!) and instead, shift our gaze to those C players–the gals in the middle of the bell curve. Today’s model is, er, a model who has mastered the, ‘I’m not sure why I’m here pose.’ Please give a warm welcome to Sarah McDaniel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 10/10, would smash.
But before we get to the boobs, please to be enjoying a little music from Car in’s favorite band. I wrote this song whilst deep in the woods hunting for Cyn. I was looking and looking and looking and looking…
*
I’ve always been fascinated with Mother Russia. Wait. Is that triggering? I guess we should start calling it gender neutral Russia. You know mothers can be fathers right? I’ll start over.
I’ve always been fascinated with cisRussia. Not today’s pussy version; the full blown commie war machine that defeated the Nazis with their incredibly effective strategy of throwing about 9 million young men into the maw of Hitler’s army. Either march forward and get blown away, or retreat and get shot by your own guys. Touch choice for the Igors.
Total WWII casualties are thought to be around 20 million but no one really knows for sure. To put that into perspective, the glorious CCCP lost the equivalent of today’s population of NYC, LA, Chicago, Houston, Phoenix, and Philadelphia. Or as most of the blog would say, ‘a good start.‘
Much like you, I’m really amused at the Russian follies going on in the media. It’s really driven by two factors: 1. They still don’t accept the outcome of the election and 2. a total lack of historical perspective prior to 2005. It’s just fucking awesome to watch the political/media brain trust try figure out the basics of Russian geography, let alone culture. Pretend you know nothing. Now pretend you are in a soundproof, lightproof box buried under the Siberian tundra. You are more prepared to discuss Russia than Brian Stelter, Steven Colbert, or Katy Tur.
Good morning, and welcome to another edition of Hunky Hump Day. Everyone having a good week?
I was expecting a Green Day cover and got something much, much better.
Now for the hunks.
Monday was Patty Ann’s birthday. Sigh. She would tell me to put on my big girl panties and get going.
Continue reading
For some reason I can’t get this stupid Beatles song out of my head…Revolution. Every time I hear someone spouting off about treason, I think ‘talkin’ bout an execution.’
Louis Guitierrez (D-ICK) is the latest to promise his constituents that when the democrats take back the house he’s going to, “to make sure that I am there to make sure of one thing, that we write those articles of impeachment and take him to trial before the Senate and eliminate him as president of the United States of America.”
That’s some pretty hot chocolate he’s serving. Are we really here? Are we at a place in politics where Sentators–I’m looking at you Tim Kaine– and House Reps wantonly throw around execution as a political end? And just so we’re clear, we’re talking about executing the President and members of his family who are not currently employed by the administration.
It’s been 45 days since Steve Scalise and dozens of others were targeted for political assassination and there are many on the Left that have decided to escalate the Cold Civil War. I won’t even attempt to square the counterfactual circle of how this would have been played if Obama were the target. A brain divided against itself cannot stand.
I know we don’t all agree that Donald J. Trump is the God Emperor we’ve been waiting for. In reality, he worries me a bit, but I’m willing to look past all of his flaws for a few reasons. First, everyone I dislike hates him. Second, he is a giant middle finger to what I believe is a growing chasm in American society. We’re not just divided in politics, but have formed a neatly coded society where it is perfectly acceptable to deride entire swaths of the country to prove allegiance to a social class. His mere existence as a working man’s hero (a neat little trick in and of itself) spotlights how hollow our supposed intellectual betters have become. Third, he fights. And while I don’t always agree with what or whom he is fighting, I believe parsing every issue as if it has some deep meaning is more wrong. An illegal alien is not an undocumented immigrant.
GND and I have had this long standing conversation about if or when the President is going to be assassinated. She has always been of the opinion that he won’t make it to the end of his term. I have always believed that its not really possible, let alone probable that a crazed Leftist could pull it off.
But I’m starting to waver.
To borrow a refrain from a boring man, ‘Russia called, and they want their foreign policy back.’
Current picture for Leon;
Not yet. It’s just land. We could buy a camper tomorrow and head over, and while that has a certain appeal, it ain’t happening. We’re looking at house plans now and should start looking for a hay farmer this week. Paperwork for my HELOC extension (i.e. my new land loan) goes in today. If the stress doesn’t kill me, this should be fun.
I wonder if fitness photography is a good lifestyle, or if Andrew is bored to tears of looking at booties.
I’m getting old when 7 AM is sleeping in. Luxurious.
Let’s see what’s in the funneh folder for today.
Not our queen, either.
Mr. RFH playing D&D
And that oughta do it. Y’all have a good day.
Russia, Russia, Russia! If I rolled my eyes like I want to, I would be able to see into my brain. It occurred to me a few days ago that my father in law insisted on joining me on a walk last November and started talking about the election. His theory was that Hillary had been harassed for 20 years and there has never been any evidence of a crime so all of the allegations must be bullshit. After I collected my jaw from the ground I muttered something like, ‘so what you’re saying is you have just eaten 10 space cakes and didn’t share any of them?’ Not true, I actually didn’t say anything because I don’t really talk about politics with anyone but my lovable internet family. But I can’t wait to use that line this Thanksgiving–he’ll tell me it doesn’t matter, Trump is actually a Russian spy, and I’ll say something like, ‘so what you’re saying is you’ve just eaten 10 sputnik cakes and didn’t share any of them?’
*
Little Known Fact…Stalone invented Zumba
Keeping with our Russian theme, today’s model is from a former Eastern Bloc country or possibly Mother Russia herself. I mean, just look at her. She’s like 5″11, weighs 120 pounds, has tatas bigger than Red Square, and looks like Mr Bean. Please give a warm, stern looking nod of approval to Karin Spalnikova!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!!11!!!!!1!!!
In the never ending quest to find new material for these poats I sometimes fail to satisfy everyone’s diverse interests and tastes. Not enough boobs, melons or lemons. And to all the knob gobbling critics residing in ass alley, I wish you to enjoy all the vag cheese you can fit in your hairy clam hole. But, of course, in a nice way!
The Official Sports Team of The Hostages
Get TITS2 & The H2 Stuff
Checking Your Mom's Drawers for Hope&Change since March 2009 
