Here’s a video which shows – yet again – why calling “heroes” is always a bad idea, guaranteed to make any bad situation worse. A woman calls 911 to report an erratic driver and becomes herself the object of abuse:
The doughy “hero” – with his Batman Belt (notice the multiple mags, because “heroes” must always be ready to invade Poland – or perhaps because they can’t hit what they are shooting at) detains and harasses the woman, who simply wants to be left alone.
The “hero” can’t help unleashing his Authority. And is clearly frustrated when the woman refuses to submit & obey.
Here’s another (skip to about 1:33 into the video) and have a look at this jacked-up geek. He is uber Batman!
If time in itself was Sam’s demeanor there’d be no sunlight or a glimmer of sunlight landing on his street Bissonet girls must be discreet nursing our fathers locked inside we’ve masqueraded as his bride
We might like you better if we slept together but there’s something in your eyes that says maybe
and that’s never we never say never
Slumped by Bayland Park with windburn skin that cowpoke could give a fuck about the grin on your face as you walk by, randy as a goat he’s sleeping on papers but he’d be warm in your coat
There’s no easy way to lose your sight on the street, on the stairs who’s on your flight old couple walks by as ugly as sin but he’s got her and she’s got him
Sun seems to move cross the sky so slow it’s we who are turning with nowhere to go
The Ephrata cop solved the drop leg holster problem by adding a second Glock in a holster over his beer gut. ‘Course Ephrata is a dangerous big city where the 96% white population is obviously at war with the cops.
How can you have any meat for supper if you don’t eat your grits for breakfast?
? Have you ever even seen the rain you norte wind flatulent colonial Americanos ?
The first line got me and the BC reminiscing about strange eats and the Brits must have some of the strangest of all. I eat beef every way you can imagine but pudding? Don’t even want to go there. What innards is in it?
We’ve compared east and west Tx. meals growing up. Beef was cheap, supplemented by cheaper pork and chicken.
We used to get a kick out of your NYC friends cooking and eating black eye peas and cornbread. We feed those to cows they’d say. Hell boys, yall don’t even know what a cow is. And how do you make bread outta corn? Soon, it was “say, when you gonna make some peas and cornbread? By then I’d moved em on to chili beans and cornbread and rare steak.
One of the many things I miss about living in Charlotte is Carolina Breakfast.
I associate grits with the piedmont, because thats when I first learned to love them
She Feels Like Carolina – Parmalee – Looks Like California – Shiny Like Those Yankee Lights – Out On Broadway – She Makes Me Feel Like Home – So Far Away
Charlotte used to have Price’s Chicken Coop on the Southside. They served a chicken sandwich that was a fried thigh on two slices of white bread. You could eat it while driving without getting grease on your fingers.
The most popular breakfast when I lived there was a livermush sammich on white bread. Livermush was like scrapple except it was made with pork liver. It’s almost guaranteed heartburn for yankees, but southerners thrive on it.
Duke’s mayonnaise was the only condiment allowed on a livermush sammich. People who asked for mustard on it were obviously yankee hairy communist garillas who were not to be trusted. They were the ones who ate taters for breakfast, too, which is considered uncivilized in the South. Yankees had to have their “hashbrowns” which are just a form of fried taters. Fried taters with onions are for later in the day as a side dish for the pinto beans.
Grits are made from hominy that has been redried and ground into meal. Hominy is the way the Cherokee managed to live mostly on dried corn during the winter without having digestive troubles from it. Settlers made grits from the hominy and used cornmeal to make livermush and cornbread.
Maybe this thread is hijacked pretty good now.
Dammit Ed, got me salivatin now. Speaking of food and time of day almost doesn’t mean anything to me now.
3 days in a row I had(cold mornings)oatmeal, fresh pears off the tree, bacon crunched up in it with raw honey. We used to eat oatmeal like this but it had been a while.
This morning, really hot and spicy tater, jalo, onion, garlic burrito with some Shiner Black.
We do hominy in the morning, generally with pork and eggs.
Eating out with the crew last week I had hash browns with eggs, bacon and toast. Most don’t know how to do hash browns worth a damn and these were no exception. They sucked in fact.
When I bake potatoes I back an extra or two to make hash browns. Grits are easy and almost foolproof. They sound good right now with some fresh pear and honey.
I keep craving mud bugs but Tor won’t send me a towsack from west of Houston where the rice fields are always full of them. Roundup gives them that extra zip.
There was a Dairy Queen in Marshall that served chicken fried steak and white gravy with biscuits even on the breakfast menu.
Dairy Queen was a different place in East Texas from the ones we had back in the Carolinas. Back there the food was just burgers and hot dogs. That was back in the 80s, though. It might be a different deal now.
I loved the barbecue in East Texas. It was slow smoked brisket and Pittsburgh hot links, or smoked turkey. Nothing at all like that sweet pork stuff they call barbecue back east. The conventional wisdom in EasTex is “You can’t barbecue a pig or a chicken”. That’s true of slow smoking. It just doesn’t work for pork or chicken.
Ed, we had some grits, cheese, hot kinda things….jalos and the like.
Dairy Queen was a different sorta thing when it first started. I think it was Stephenville I first encountered one in the early sixties. Once they moved into west Tx. they had changed to a mostly fast food thing and left off the chicken fried steak and the good fried chicken.
Back to your job on the bridge, I had that all figured out earlier. I’d bring a van full of firewood and park it on the outside lane with requisite triangles and cones with Paint Supply on the sides. Then I’d bring a reefer full of ribs and briskets along with a big cooker with “Paint Crew” on the side, buy us more time. After we’d become an institution we’d just get that part of the bridge rent free and serve bbq “on the fly”. Just call in your order with your prepaid account # and pull over in front of the trucks to pick it up. Hopefully, you’d have a long walk.
Tor could pick up what other enterprises he desired to fulfill the customers desires. Yassuh, just sit back and cook brisket till we got tarred and retire to the camper inside the van……make those mad dashes back to mesquite land to restock. Since no laws I know of would apply we’d be fairly much set, do a little brewing and distilling there on the spot…and maybe some grow lights. They say Maui is nice this time of year. What time is that. “This” time of year.
Makes me think of our first year to go to the state land and grass judging contest. I 20 was more of a coming attraction so by the time we got off construction and onto 6 south we’d (8) been cooped up long enough in the back of a Ford pickup with steel livestock panels covered by a borrowed tarp on top of gym mats. We were all gathered on the side of the road and there was this big red ant bed. One guy who was always messing with something was messing with the ants. We had a great ag teacher, probably not 10 years older than us and he told the guy “Red ants don’t bite this time of year”. Really, the guy said. He kept messing with one and got stung hard. “I thought you said they didn’t bite this time of the year”. The teacher said “They don’t bite this time of the year but they’ll bite hell out of you”.
He was always teaching us the subtleties of the world….and we were all better for it. The teacher is retired and old now(but not in mind), and that classmate of mine died 2 years ago come winter. Life is damned sure like a box of chocolates.
Oh, and BTW, he went to state championships with us for the 3 years we could take ag. I learned more in that class than anywhere else…..ever. That class was a “first” for him and us and countless things we’d never guess when we started.
When I finished that ag class I could torch cut, rotary cut, TIG, MIG, carbon arc and stick weld.
I could wire a house and use 2 and 3 way switches and know the difference in needs of a 220 A water heater circuit and an electric stove that was 50 A.
I could build anything I wanted and only use dado’s for joints if I had to.
I knew Robert’s Rules of Order(went to state in that too)forward and backward.
Was an accomplished stock breeder and kept my own breeding records along with the winnings of stock shows(Tony Lama and Stetson some of the beneficiaries).
I knew the gestation days of damned near everything that moved including Mary Lou. I knew what plants were natural and invaders. I knew what insects did what and how to pit them against each other, later using lady bugs to kill infestations of other critters.
That’s what we need to get back to these days. I could read Chaucer or Heinlein at night. Ii could polish up on slide rule contests(really, that was the best computer made then) and speed typing trials.
I could study Ak Miller’s turbo designs and make designs of my own but I could never learn more than I had in that 3 year course. z
Reckon we’d have the same terms if we made them in this time? Nipples and couplings, female and male adapters. I look at a drilling rig and wonder what they call the “cow’s cock” now. God, I’m old…..and glad of it. Not sure I could survive many more decades of this bullshit existence. So, where was that bridge again? I need to keep it in my mind’s eye.
Being a stateless anarchogypsy I use a cheat sheet for Roberts Rules.
I hang on to the Fuhrerbunker for reasons that are both nostalgic and psychological (same thing, I suppose). Vague hope, probably idiotic, that I might find a nice chick to share it with; maybe kids. It is also my refuge – as per Der Chef.
Aber, does it make sense?
Maybe the thing to do is downsize – perhaps even become a landless roamer in an RV. I never planned for this eventuality, which was obviously stupid. But then, so is love.
Eric – I would take a couple of months off and go to the far east. If you have some connections, find some cars to test. Maybe try Japan. Maybe Korea (before we bomb NK). I know it involves a flight, which is a liberty destroying task in itself, but the key is to get out for a little while. Try something different.
It doesn’t matter where you go, but going somewhere and maybe out of the country will give you a different experience. It doesn’t matte where you go, but don’t buy an RV just yet. Hell, you might just get laid.
While I love good brisket, claiming “you can’t barbecue a pig” is regional bombast, not reality. North Carolina whole hog barbecue is slow smoked and served with a thin vinegar/red pepper sauce. Not at all like the “sweet pork stuff” you describe.
jeremy, we do pretty well in that dept. and an old college friend has turned slow cooking ribs into and art. We don’t do a vinegar sauce but instead a rub that’s hard to beat and a finish with a non-sweet sauce. Ours may be a bit peppy for some but most will eat and say Damn, this is spicy and never miss a beat.
A friend’s family had a friend in Tennessee where the rest of the family lived who did heavy age pork. It wasn’t done with salt or sugar but much like beef. It was a Who you know list more than a money thing. He made more and more hogs every year and demand was growing faster than he could. We’d get our 40 lb. ham, unwrap it and open the windows while we cut a good inch or more off(don’t call the dogs, just shut them up cause they already know). When we’ d get to that fresh meat we’d throw slices in a frying pan and have some rotten pork and red-eye gravy. The stuff was to die for. I never personally knew of another person who did this. The guy kept at it until old age. Best damn ham I ever put in my mouth. We’d fry ham and eggs and grits and red-eye gravy and grin all the way to over-stuffed. It was sooo rich. I was close to 40 before I even knew it existed.
Man that sounds good. I do my ribs as you describe. I also make a spicy bbq sauce that starts with a homemade smoked pork stock. I buy pork necks from the local Mexican market, smoke them and use those for the stock. I add chicken feet to the pot to get the gelatin content up. It ain’t real if it don’t congeal.
Are you talkin’ country ham? Americas answer to the great Parma hams from Italy. A buddy of mine turned me on to country ham a few years ago, holy shit!
Good to see you Jeremy.
How to Cure a Country Ham at Home
“Country hams” are a dry-cured ham, much better than over hyped over priced imported prosciutto, jamon iberico or Jinhua ham, IMO.
The hams are carefully salted then air-dried for months, after which they keep without refrigeration for years. Smoked or unsmoked, as you desire.
Pat the surface of the pork leg with paper towels to dry up any surface moisture. Use a sharp knife to carefully loosen the flesh from around the bone at the thick end of the leg, making an opening 1 to 2 inches deep.
Mix the salt, sugar and black pepper in a plastic bag or a bowl. Carefully rub the mixture over the entire surface of the pork leg, taking care to thoroughly cover the entire surface. Work the curing mixture into the open space you’ve cut between the bone and the flesh. This will cure the thickest part of the leg.
Wrap the ham in a large pillowcase, or in brown paper and then a net bag. Hang in a cool, well-ventilated place. Best done in winter months, when night temperatures will be at or below 40 degrees Fahrenheit. If an empty refrigerator is handy that’s the controlled ideal.
Cure the ham for 75 to 90 days, approximately 2 1/2 to 3 days per pound of meat.
Remove the ham from its wrappings. Some white mold on the surface is normal, and may be scraped away easily along with any residual curing mixture.
Wiping the ham with a clean paper towel soaked in vinegar will remove any remaining mold.
Rub the cleaned ham with the coarsely ground black pepper. Cold-smoke the ham, if you like, for 12 hours.
Country hams are not generally smoked, but it’s up to you.
Age the ham by hanging in a well-ventilated location, for another six to nine months. Cold is no longer necessary, as the ham is now cured and dried enough.
Not regional bombast, it’s a comment on the different cooking methods. What Carolina barbecuers call slow smoking is different from the Texas method.
If you were to slow smoke a pork shoulder or a whole chicken at the temperature and for the amount of time put into a beef brisket or whole Turkey, the result would be inedible.
Anyway, I was born in South Carolina and lived there until I was in my 30s, and never liked barbecue until I moved to Longview and tried the EasTex version.
I don’t have anything against pork or chicken, but the Carolina method of slathering those meats in sweet sauce ain’t for me.
Regional Bombast – That would make a great band name.
Texans using this high-sounding language with little blue state meaning, trying to impress the truth into Yankees, but it doesn’t much take.
Some things about constant Virgina Company descendant men just don’t translate to the ears of the Plymouth Company chimpanzee feces flinging folk.
The 1606 land grants by James I to the London(red) and Plymouth(green) companies.
The overlapping area (between 41 to 38 degree latitude) was granted to both companies on the stipulation that neither found a settlement within 100 miles of each other.
See the south never did do what those fork tongued sticky fingered north did over and over.
The Yanx are almost as bad as the Mex who stiffed the French bigly and even today celebrate surviving the debt collecting battle at Veracruz which happened on the Cinco of Mayo.
We’re crooks but we get our Tequila for freeeeeee!
When settlers landed on Plymouth Rock, the first thing those Cunning Yankees Linguists did is declare their charter null and void, and lots of other bombastic vag speak, claiming they had landed outside the Virginia Company’s charter and needn’t honor their vows to their transporters.
The Tea Party and all that myths of the foundlers was nothing more than the shambling antics of shameless Yankee Deadbeats. Founders my ass.
The true founders of America were all in the Mid Atlantic and the South where men honored their words and bonds to England, Yankees, Mexicans, and everybody.
Those gibsmedat prancing Plymouth powerwiggers can all go hang.
If only the Scourge had stayed in its little pink area
Those danged monastic celibates are sometimes pretty rowdy. Sometime, instead of sleep from 9 pm till 12M and then 2 am to 5 am, they break out and sleep all night long, fairly radical background and one cops need to keep a sharp eye on. Praying and working, gotta be something going on there. Well, they are radical about the seventh day being the true Sabbath leading god knows where…….
Some of these skinheads are funny with that kind of gear. In Colonial Heights, some of the porkers have taken to wearing those drop leg holsters:
They make it easier to draw when you’re sitting in your car, but you have to bend over to draw if you’re standing up. They all look like that retarded kid on walking dead who runs around with his daddy’s old sheriff’s hat on all the time.
Yep, the ‘undercovers’, ha ha, do it here too only they have another rig hanging from the belt rig. That’s a badass look with their cheap Glocks and other cheapass guns. See, they can only have the most expensive guns if their victims have them. Nobody would admit to this.
I finally have to say it. For years I’ve seen these guys and every time I think of little Timmy, living out his life, soon to end, in the horsepital where they torture the little guy with various drugs. Occifer badass and little Timmy have the same look, that of steroid abuse.
Occifer, hope things get better for you I’m always tempted to say. Do you have a fund set up? “A fund, WTF are you talkin’ bout (Willis, can’t help but think of Willis when somebody says something like that)”? Oh, I just noticed you’re obviously taking steroids, didn’t consider they might not be legal. Here’s the part that stops me from having this conversation. Probably it’s going to turn lethal for me. Never speak truth to power, esp. the “ultimate power”, the piggos. I may be a smart-ass but at some point the smart takes over and leaves the ass.
Aint that just the Looney Toon and Merry Melodie we all deserve right now.
“Ride Like The Wind”
It is the night
My body’s weak
I’m on the run
No time to sleep
I’ve got to ride
Ride like the wind
To be free again
And I’ve got such a long way to go
To make it north of the border with Mexico
So I’ll ride like the wind
Ride I-10 like the wind
I was born the son of a lawless man
Always spoke my mind with a gun in my hand
Lived nine lives
Gunned down ten
Gonna ride like the wind
Accused and tried and told to hang
I was nowhere in sight when the church bells rang
Never was the kind to do as I was told
Gonna ride like the wind before I get old
Ride Like the Wind to Eric Peters Autos and Voat Goats Gulch East of El Paso off Interstate 10 to be free again
Depressing, no other word for it. Two of the same ilk. Clover: I’m such a good citizen. Porker: Gotta get to the bottom of this breaking case. Somebody weaving, they gotta be drunk. Not a chance they dropped their burrito between their legs like I did on the way over.
These two mental giants deserved each other. I want to see the cage fight where she takes him down. Righteousness always prevails, put it on her headstone. Cops are judges for everyone else, put it on his headstone. Or just follow the 3 S’s and…….channel Porky Pig…….buhdee ,buhdee…..that’s all folks.