Billy Roy Mitchum saw a video on the Internet that really turned him on. He rolled into the Hubbard City Cafe in a somewhat uncharacteristic and fairly verbose mood, "It is so sad to see politicians screaming 'racist' each time someone questions an Obama policy. Recently Newt said 'Obama should spend less time playing basketball and more time working on creating jobs', and Newt got slammed. How sad when you know that young black people are suffering the most from unemployment. It seems this is where the Libs go when they are unable to defend their policies (Stimulus and government out of control spending) and the awful results of their actions (government takeovers). I don't know anyone that doesn't like Blacks because they are black. I do know a lot of people that don't like many things that represent a segment of today's Black Culture. Things like Gangster Rap, the large percentage of unwed mothers, high crime rates, high abortion rates, high school drop out rates, and high drug usage. Hell, I hate those same things when white people do them as well, and too many white people are guilty of the same things."
"Some wacko folks still want to blame today's Whites for slavery. This country went through hell freeing the slaves and ensuring that everyone has 'equal rights' (not equal results) under the law. We should celebrate these accomplishments. Drug Store Liberals as well as Cafe Conservatives should commit to Martin Luther King's wish that everyone is 'judged by their character and not the color of their skin'. And of course the Dairy Queen Moderates will want to compromise some how, but who cares what they want. You know most Moderates would straddle barbed wire they are so committed to fence sitting."
"Let's see if we can get Jim to ask bloggers to paste this into their browsers (if you don't know how, call Jim) and watch this 8 minute video. I guarantee it is worth the time. If anyone watches and doesn't like it I'll give em free tickets to my next concert at Carnegie Hall."
http://pjcockrell.wordpress.com/2007/11/22/amazing-grace-just-the-black-notes/
I agree with BM. If you don't like this video I will reimburse your blog subscription fees,
Jim
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Only Butch Could Be So Wound Up and Burned Out At The Same Time
Butch Jackson is a huge sports fan, and particularly fond of golf and golf history. He was bubbling when he came through the front door of the Cafe this week, "Doesn't get better than a Phil Mickelson win at the Masters. Haven't enjoyed anything more since Hubbard beat Keller in the 1957 Regional Championship Game."
"Why is this such a big deal?" asked most if not all the coffee drinkers knowing this is exactly what Butch was hoping for and not having anything better to talk about.
"Glad you asked," answered Butch as he sucked in a deep breath signaling to his audience they were in some degree of trouble regarding any future time schedules or commitments. "Phil represents a long line of players who signify the true golf tradition. Golf is one of the last great examples of gentlemanly pursuits. Phil is a gentleman like Palmer, Nicklaus, Watson, Hogan, Nelson, Jones, and many others. He repects the game of golf. By that he is courteous to the fans what with knucking and high fiving them all around the course. He tips his cap. My gosh he not only talks to his opponents, but even to his opponents caddies. Not to mention his family situation with the sick wife and all."
"Heck on one green one of those little worm looking things flew off a pine tree and fell into the path of his ball, threw it off course, cost him a stoke, or he would have won by 4 shots. You know what? Phil didn't say damn, suck, or anything like that. No tantrums. He just kept playing all the while showing repect for players and fans alike. There just aren't many gentleman in the public eye these days what with people like Barney Frank, Bernie Madoff, Rahm Emanuel, and Snoop Dog."
Billy Roy Michum came to every one's rescue, "Butch, you look awful eventhough you sound alright. Are you OK?"
"You are very observant, BM. Thanks for asking. Actually I was up all night sick as a dog living on an unlimited supply of food stamps. I didn't have the patience to stand in line at Jasper's in Waco to get my usual BBQ fix and so I threw down a couple of really bad chopped semi-beef sandwiches at The Jug. I piled on some onions, sour pickles, and jalapenos to try to cushion the blow, but it didn't work. Man, not only did it jump the curb and do a 'head on' right into my mid section, but I had horrible nightmares all over me during what little time I slept."
"Listen to this," Butch was going down hill now with no signs of braking, "I dreamed some guy was born a Muslim, sneaked into several of those fancy Yankee schools, worked in a big Northern City helping folks sponge off us taxpayers, and of all things, somehow was elected President of these United States. Then I dreamed this guy was over in Europe negotiating a Nuclear Arms treaty (not making this up) with the Ruskies when the President of Poland was flying across Russia and crashed killing himself and everything. And then Puten, the old KGB guy, was going to personally investigate everything. Can you imagine something like this terrifying you in middle of the night?"
"Nothing scares me more than weapons treaties. Everybody knows if Islamic Extremists and Communist did away with their weapons, we would have no more violence. On the other hand if we and the free world put down our weapons, than there would be no more free world."
All the folks sat back waiting for Billy Roy to decide which direction this conversation should take. After mulling over his options for some time BM came forward, "What kind of sauce did you put on that sandwich, Butch? Their normal 'Slippin and Sliddin Sauce' or 'Jug's Own Personal Inferno'? Sounds like you mixed em."
"I didn't think it would hurt to mix em a little," Butch was pretty sheepish by now because everybody in Hubbard knows if you have to eat at The Jug that you don't mix these two sauces in any seven day period much less on the same sandwich.
Joe Borger Hurd could not hold back any longer, "Boy, that must have been a hell of a long line at Jaspers."
"Yep, must of been 8-10 people," Butch exaggerated of course but no more than usual.
Joe Borger likes Butch because he's not around him very much, "Don't seem fair, Butch, but knowing the hurry you are generally in, I certainly understand making a mistake like this. Man, if it were me, I would stay up all night tonight before I would expose myself to another dream like that. You know that mixed sauce doesn't wear off for several days, and you don't need a dream like that to come back on you, ever."
Maybe we should all think about eating more chicken,
Jim
"Why is this such a big deal?" asked most if not all the coffee drinkers knowing this is exactly what Butch was hoping for and not having anything better to talk about.
"Glad you asked," answered Butch as he sucked in a deep breath signaling to his audience they were in some degree of trouble regarding any future time schedules or commitments. "Phil represents a long line of players who signify the true golf tradition. Golf is one of the last great examples of gentlemanly pursuits. Phil is a gentleman like Palmer, Nicklaus, Watson, Hogan, Nelson, Jones, and many others. He repects the game of golf. By that he is courteous to the fans what with knucking and high fiving them all around the course. He tips his cap. My gosh he not only talks to his opponents, but even to his opponents caddies. Not to mention his family situation with the sick wife and all."
"Heck on one green one of those little worm looking things flew off a pine tree and fell into the path of his ball, threw it off course, cost him a stoke, or he would have won by 4 shots. You know what? Phil didn't say damn, suck, or anything like that. No tantrums. He just kept playing all the while showing repect for players and fans alike. There just aren't many gentleman in the public eye these days what with people like Barney Frank, Bernie Madoff, Rahm Emanuel, and Snoop Dog."
Billy Roy Michum came to every one's rescue, "Butch, you look awful eventhough you sound alright. Are you OK?"
"You are very observant, BM. Thanks for asking. Actually I was up all night sick as a dog living on an unlimited supply of food stamps. I didn't have the patience to stand in line at Jasper's in Waco to get my usual BBQ fix and so I threw down a couple of really bad chopped semi-beef sandwiches at The Jug. I piled on some onions, sour pickles, and jalapenos to try to cushion the blow, but it didn't work. Man, not only did it jump the curb and do a 'head on' right into my mid section, but I had horrible nightmares all over me during what little time I slept."
"Listen to this," Butch was going down hill now with no signs of braking, "I dreamed some guy was born a Muslim, sneaked into several of those fancy Yankee schools, worked in a big Northern City helping folks sponge off us taxpayers, and of all things, somehow was elected President of these United States. Then I dreamed this guy was over in Europe negotiating a Nuclear Arms treaty (not making this up) with the Ruskies when the President of Poland was flying across Russia and crashed killing himself and everything. And then Puten, the old KGB guy, was going to personally investigate everything. Can you imagine something like this terrifying you in middle of the night?"
"Nothing scares me more than weapons treaties. Everybody knows if Islamic Extremists and Communist did away with their weapons, we would have no more violence. On the other hand if we and the free world put down our weapons, than there would be no more free world."
All the folks sat back waiting for Billy Roy to decide which direction this conversation should take. After mulling over his options for some time BM came forward, "What kind of sauce did you put on that sandwich, Butch? Their normal 'Slippin and Sliddin Sauce' or 'Jug's Own Personal Inferno'? Sounds like you mixed em."
"I didn't think it would hurt to mix em a little," Butch was pretty sheepish by now because everybody in Hubbard knows if you have to eat at The Jug that you don't mix these two sauces in any seven day period much less on the same sandwich.
Joe Borger Hurd could not hold back any longer, "Boy, that must have been a hell of a long line at Jaspers."
"Yep, must of been 8-10 people," Butch exaggerated of course but no more than usual.
Joe Borger likes Butch because he's not around him very much, "Don't seem fair, Butch, but knowing the hurry you are generally in, I certainly understand making a mistake like this. Man, if it were me, I would stay up all night tonight before I would expose myself to another dream like that. You know that mixed sauce doesn't wear off for several days, and you don't need a dream like that to come back on you, ever."
Maybe we should all think about eating more chicken,
Jim
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