Neanderpundit

I love a good steak, and when I get my hands on one that is rare enough (and I do like them rare) they tend to go through me like so much soup- so I have learned to avoid them while in situations…. well, like these.

I was dating a girl from Schaumburg some years ago, and it was our habit to see a movie or have a nice dinner and go to one of the many local industrial parks for a little privacy (nopbody in those places after dark) and settle in on landscaped lawns and play hide the salami.

On one such occasion, we’d just had Prime Rib at her parents home, and were basking in the afterglow, when the Urge Arrived. We were close to a large-ish retention pond, so not wanting to damage it’s ecosystem any more than necesary, I grabbed some paper towel and trundled off to a handily mulched evergreen. I dropped trou and squatted (in those days I still had knees) and proceeded to open the fire hose of unadulterated vile. I didn’t think it was going to stop, as a matter of fact, and by the time it DID stop there was a thin moat of pure nasty around the base of the little spruce.

I cleaned as best I could (paper towel makes poor asswipe for a variety of reasons) and returned to my date. For reasons I still don’t understand, this interlude did NOT put her off, and in fact she participated with renewed vigour what my call of nature had interrupted.

I’ll never understand wimmen.

When I’m hunting I usually carry plastic garbage bags and rubber gloves. You’d be amazed at the shit hunters leave afield, and a lot of other people use DNR property as well. One of the commonest denizens of the forest is not the deer, but the cheap pervert. You can tell them by their spoor, which usually consists of a matted down patch of grass, an empty bottle of some kind of hard liquor, and used condoms and their wrappers.

Usually the worst of the idiots at least put out their butts but sometimes you come on a charred spot where some retard threw the dog-ed of a cigar and set fire to a couple square feet of forest floor, which was, thankfully, green enough to not burn far.

One time, coming on another hunter deep in the preserve, I picked up and put in my bag a beercan he’d just thrown away seconds before. “What are you, some kind of environmentalist asshole?” I’ve never been so damned close to shooting someone.

An environmentalist is a moron. They believe that the planet is more important than anything, and humans be damned. They have no idea what they’re doing, or talking about, and would not admit that at gunpoint. Their desired policies invariably do harm, and they impose stricter and stricter limitations on sportsmen, most of whom are true conservationists.

A conservationist wants the land he hunts, the water he fishes, to be as good when he is 90 as it was when he was 18. He wants those resources to be unchanged for his children’s children’s generations. He cares about his sport, and fights to keep it safe and the game he hunts plentiful.

This is an excellent piece which details the way conservationism has helped make this country what it is today. And how environmentaolism is trying to destroy the work that has been done. If someone calls you an “environmentalist” direct him to that website. And then give him back his teeth.

for the most part, that salvation is based on John 3:16.

Myself, like most normal Christians, I believe that John 3:16 is the invitation. The ticket, so to speak. Salvation is the journey you take after getting your ticket. Just “accepting Jesus as your personal savior” is meaningless unless you live the life, so to speak. Your mileage may vary.

SO the point is, once you have the ticket, you have to get on the ride. The Supremes handed us a ticket. Get on. We have a long way to go, and we must be ever vigilant.

Pascal reminds me that enumerating this right also gives those who would fight us a wedge, and he’s right. Only we can keep that wedge out of our homes and our lives. Don’t think of this as the destination, just the beginning of the journey.