Like Frodo temporarily separated from the group, I’ve been off on my own adventure.

As you know, I have a new house to live in. I’ve painted it and fixed the holes punched in the drywall and patched the roof. It’s a proper home now.

And I bought this awesome new woodstove at a community yard sale in town. It’s a Vermont Castings stove, the Encore model, complete with optional warming shelves. Retail price, somewhere around fifteen hundred dollars. It’s not quite the Cadillac of stoves, but it’s up there. It’s definitely the Lincoln Mark V. It is a beauty to behold and it’s a workhorse. I bought it for fifty bucks.

I seem to collect woodstoves like some people collect cars or shoes. Love ’em. I like restoring antique stoves in particular.

The one in question had been sitting in someone’s barn or garage, so it was all rusty. Ewwww! Yucky! No one wants to buy some rusty ol’ thing, which is why I got it so cheap. But cast iron woodstoves are supremely easy to restore; just remove the surface rust with a wire brush and apply stove polish. It’ll look like new.

And I have a new television now. I have not had a television or the electricity to run it for three years. I got it for free at that same yard sale, free because no one buys those old, fuddy duddy tube-type televisions anymore. And I got a free antenna which I have mounted in a tree nearby. I get the Vermont Public Television channels and one NBC station. I like to watch Austin City Limits and the Today Show.

I see on the Today Show this morning that Butter Bar Biden got kicked out of the Navy. It has been my experience that an officer’s failing a single drug test, especially an officer who is the Vice President’s son, is not necessarily grounds for revoking his commission. That it had been revoked tells me that the military are quite content with physically removing the human errors known as Barack Ebola and Buffoon Biden from the civilian power structure. When no one follows the law anymore and when the government collapses, which it has, power rightfully belongs to those who have the guns.  It then becomes perfectly morally defensible to simply arrest whatever idiot may have his feet up on the desk in the White House, whatever commie may have thought that his third-rate mind and his pen were enough to destroy the nation.

I think Barack Obama is in grave danger of being assassinated, not by his political detractors, but by commission of the bankers who own him as their personal property. Obama now is such toxic waste that his mere existence is a threat to these bankers’ plans to eradicate your nation as the business impediment that they regard it to be. They will likely wish to convert a loser of an investment into some marginal gain. It’s like a hog that’s not quite up to size but that’s more trouble than he’s worth; maybe he keeps escaping his pen and rutting around in the vegetable garden. Slaughtering him now solves the problem even if he’s not quite up to weight. So these bankers may decide to harvest Obama now and convert him into what I would call a “synthetic martyr.” These bankers will then instruct their assets in the whorestream media to pin it on these bankers’ political adversaries like tea partiers or gun owners. See? And then everyone can wring their hands about how we finally need to get rid of guns. And once your nation has been disarmed, you will have no means of defending yourselves when the Chinese come to take possession of the national parks and other natural resources pledged as collateral for China’s continued purchase of Treasury Notes, a trash instrument with no value otherwise.

No, the proper thing to do with President LGBTCCRAD is to try him for treason and let him sit in prison for the rest of his life. He can spend his time playing chess and basketball and keeping house for his jail husband.  He can bask in the sun shining through his cell window and fancy himself to be some sort of Nelson Mandela, unjustly persecuted for his selflessness, but in reality (which is what occurs outside of his mind, where he is most definitely not the one we’ve been waiting for) he’ll be in prison because he’s just another murderer or thief or con artist. He is, after all, guilty of criminal fraud every time he uses Harrison J Bounel’s Social Security Number to secure a mortgage or to file a tax return. I don’t know about you, but the only people I’ve ever encountered who needed to use some dead guy’s identity were those who were generally up to no good, those whose own identities would preclude their ability to pull off the con. The man is no Nelson Mandela. He’s a con artist. He’s a common street hustler. You’ve been watching his Three Card Monty game for the past six years.

So even though I regard Barack Obama as just the trashiest thing, I suppose I can do him the favor of shining my one-for-the-history-books spotlight on the heretofore fifty-fifty likelihood that his owners would harvest him. You can thank me later over the jailhouse phone, loser. Now go cook up a soup or a popcorn for your man, homo.

Can you imagine if that idiot tried his Grecian columns routine in prison? “I’m your leader! You’ve been waiting for me inside my mind!” He’d immediately get his teeth kicked in.

In jail, “what are you in for” is like “what’s your major?” He wouldn’t be in for anything “respectable” like some massive jewelry heist or a bank robbery. “Well, uh, it seems that I broke every law in sight so that I could dismantle the protections afforded by a republican form of government and deliver people just like y’all into the hands of my banker owners. I’m a regular O.G. Should I just give you my dessert from now on?”

Barack Obama is so completely non-respectable that in jail he wouldn’t even qualify as a nigger. Anyone with street cred in jail can be a nigger. I was a nigger. I was that nigger who stuck it to the man by (variously, according to whatever version coursing through the jail grapevine on any given day,) A, threatened to kill the president; B, ran a money laundering operation; or C, defrauded insurance companies. Little did my peers know that I possessed ultimate street cred: I stuck a shotgun in the federal jurisdiction’s mouth and blew its brains out all over the wall. I bodied that bitch. “See that nigger over there with the glasses? He killed the federal government by speaking. He fucked that bitch right up.”


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