Neanderpundit

Five years ago today, my cousin murdered my uncle. He used a gun- and no, I don’t hate guns because of it, the root cause of the murder was not the availability of weapons, but the combination of alcohol, drugs, and mental health issues.

My uncle, late in life, had come to look uncannily like my father. When he died, it was as if I was burying Dad all over again.

Below the fold is the eulogy I delivered and the photograph to which it refers.
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What? it’s not the super bowl? then what the fuck is all the excitement about?

Christ, it’s a game. Wanna make me watch? Put a fucking sniper in the stands, and give him a pass on one spectator and one player each game. ThEN I’d watch the goddamned thing like a hawk. Trust me, there’s ALWAYS some fucktard in the stands that could use a well-placed bullet, and when it comes to players making millions of dollars to play a game, well, I don’t need to say any more.

I like hunting and fishing, and indy car racing. At least there’s usually death of some kind involved, and if something don’t die, it ain’t a sport.

Fired the truckl up at around five, cleaned the garage until seven.

Need to drain out some water and add some more antifreeze, but otherwise it’s all good.

Have to do an oilchange too. After mass tomorrow, I think.

What a bloody week.