The Case of the Blown Fuse and the Meltdown:
We are at that time of the year when the mind tries to avoid thinking too deeply. Humour is one way of avoiding angst, unless a person has snake venom in lien of blood and kerosene in place of liver bile.
Of course, El Gringo Viejo is that person so afflicted. We have just returned from a brief jaunt to the grocery store, and certainly the OROG tires of reading about the latest grocery store line story, but they really are good. It gives pleasure to the writer to rant and rave until his face looks like a Concord grape and the various veins and arteries in all part of his scrawny carcass are bulging and pulsing dangerously.
We made the mistake of joining the shortest line to-day. The wife unloaded the basket while I just marked time helping hand a few things forward. It became apparent that matters had come to a halt and that there was a communication problem on many levels. For one, the cashier had laryngitis; for two, the two thrippits were talking between themselves about a billing issue and about whether or not the people at the Women's and Infant Children's Program (WIC) had or had not told them that Pampers were included in the admissible purchases.
After what seemed interminable debate, they finally asked the cashier, who neither could understand them nor could tell them that she could not understand them. The girls, of course, were speaking Spanish, the favourite language of the anchor baby mothers in this area, and each had a brand new anchor baby, less than six months old. Each girl was about twenty years old. Each baby was fluffed, puffed, wrapped in nice warm blankets....the little girl with already pierced earlobes and new gold balls gleaming from each side of her head.
Exasperated, and aware of the line forming behind us as well as the increasing possibility that the Boss was going to jump into her Ninja stance and whip out her collapsable samurai sabre and start hacking, El Gringo Viejo put himself into the matter, first directing his words to the cashier,"The girls are trying to figure out if the diapers are covered by WIC."
The cashier checked through the screen, and pointed out the place where the Huggies were charged to their WIC account. "They were included, yes" she whispered.
But this caused other consternation, since the first girl's WIC card had not managed to reach the entire purchase, so we had to wait while that issue was finally resolved when the other girl entered her WIC card so as to pay the remaining balance. This resulted in the the breakdown of the whole accounting process and the computer began to pout. The whole matter required the intervention, finally and thankfully, of a floor manager, who came and took the girls over to another register that was closed and began to cash them through anew.
Of course, during their first check through neither girl would lift a finger to help the haggard cashier in terms of sacking the groceries. They stood around blythly self consumed, talking on their cellular telephones, waiting to be waited on. In Texas, when there is no sacker, self-supporting people of all ethnicities and/or races normally will begin to sack their own groceries, especially where it is obvious that a line is forming and there is no available sacker. For instance, that is what El Gringo Viejo did while the Boss paid us out.
So there we are. Working and productive people being held up, on many different planes, by slugs and dregs. They steal our time, our money, and our space. The HEB grocery store chain is a facilitator because they accept WIC and the LoneStar Card. There is no health in this situation. There is no doubt that these girls left their grocery carts loose in the running lanes of the parking lot, instead of walking them a very few feet to a nice little corral where they could be out of the way and readily re-gathered.
Oddly, one of the reasons it is so pleasant to go to the grocery store in Cd. Victoria is that there are no food stamps or government coupons to process. The lines run very smoothly.
Enough of that. It is the least of our problems. It is when it is compounded millions of times each day in America that it becomes the huge problem that it has become.
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The Case of the Disappearing Corkscrew:
The amazing story of Madame Corkscrew still leaves a sane person with mouth agape, shaking his head in disbelief. Watch as FOX News people on The Five, on Fox and Friends, mainline contributors like Laura Ingraham, and a convention of supposedly intelligent, straight-thinking people mumble and blubber about how (Sir Edmund)Hillary has been on a really tough life's pilgrmmage....or has been the hardest working Secretary of State ever...or has accomplished so much, travelling to over 100 countries, negotiating for America....or how she had to suffer the humiliations of her husband and the vast rightwing conspiracy....and that she has done so, so, so very, very, very much for children issues...and women's issues...and women's and children's issues....and everything. Hey, FOX News...and everyone in the other media....the words for Hillary are poseur, fraud, liar, fake, pathologically mendacious, narcissist, grifter, conceited, and worse.
It comes to mind that (Sir Edmund)Hillary had to go on a Sahara Camelathon with her daughter after LEARNING....LEARNING, MIND YOU! that Billy Jeff Blythe was NOT TELLING THE TRUTH about Monica....!!!! SHOCKING!!!! Shocking, so shocking that she had to nurse a "bad back" and so she flew off to North Africa to go on a CAMEL RIDE!!!! At taxpayers' expense!!!!! Can any OROG imagine treating a bad back by riding a camel?
Both Hillary and Billy Jeff have made a living by honing the art of mendacity to the finest of an edge. They learnt early on that the Bald Faced Lie was one of the best ways to pull off the deed....as in Billy Jeff's, "I've never worked harder in my life than I have on this middle class tax cut we promised, but it's just not possible." What followed was retroactive tax increases on all levels of the taxpaying public. Turned out, it was the original plan all along. Welcome to the brave new world of 1993, a few weeks into the first term of the Co-Presidency made in Hell....Hillary Rodham and Billy Jeff Blythe.
Enter the next Camel Ride. Hillary has stomach flu. Hillary grows weak. Hillary faints. Hillary hits her head. Hillary wakes up speaking fluent Bantu with no memory of Kosovo, Whitewater, Mr. Carmel/Waco killings, her daughter's danger at ground zero, FBI Files, defamation of the Travel Office, defamation of numerous of Billy Jeff's women, of a miserable worthless pointless tenure as Secretary of State that resulted in desired destruction of American influence in the Middle East and elsewhere in the world so hoped for by the marxist internationalist elements who put Obama into office to serve as a mouthpiece. Hillary cannot even remember Kathleen Willy or Vince Foster. And besides, after all she has done for the children....after all she has done for the women...she doesn't feel obliged to appear before any stinkin' committee. During her one testimony before a grand jury in Washington, D.C. she invoked the notion that she "could not remember" several score times....running the risk of a charge of perjury by evasion.
I have had a concussion, many years ago...not a bad one....but enough to foul up my equilibrium on my left side for a long while. But, save for a couple of days in bed, I have gone about my business at somewhere between 95 to 100 percent effectiveness. Hillary has no concussion. She was watching a television program or something and came up with that idea from a Three Stooges skit. She knows that some GOP Senator has some kind of goods on her. Obama, the Socialist Democrat Pantheon. and the George Soros Zombies have ordered that she not expose herself to an episode before an inquiry unless she has a ready lie already in place to respond to a "trick" or "loaded" question.
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Hillary is looking much better and should be willing to
testify soon, really. |
Concussion. Good Grief. Film besmirching Islam, anyone? When is Hillary going to melt into a pool of green slime like in "The Wizard of Oz"....please?
El Gringo Viejo