Now we all know that the Won is legally qualified to be the president.
And that is the ONLY qualification he has met, so far. He has no other qualities that are even remotely useful to our little Republic, and is by now doing precisely the job he wants to do, which is to destroy it and remake it in his image.
states that the Wife must purchase, for me, a bag of licorice jellybeans.
These are too much to eat in any quantity, but I had a big handful of them yesterday, which meant that this morning I crapped an alien life form which refused to be flushed without encouragement.
Vman reminisces, and I can hear the tune pretty clearly, it plays hard in my heart sometimes too. Anyway, he asks, what are my three best things?
I don’t have pictures at present, but I may come back and get some.
Dad’s watch. A South Bend Railroad watch. Nothing fancy, plain nickel case, but a hard wearing workingman’s pocketwatch. Dad bought a suit secondhand to give my aunt away, my grandfather already being an insufferable bastard at that time. The watch was in the vest pocket of the suit. Dad paid two dollars for the suit, and still had it when I was in my teens, a bit threadbare but still hanging in the closet. And the watch is still in my dresser drawer. I wind it once a year, and have a Stroh’s, for Dad.
Uncle Calvin’s Troy Bilt. Still runs like new, though this one is so old it has a four digit serial number. Calvin put five kids through Catholic schools farming with that little red tiller and a pair of Gravelys.
Dad’s Remington. A plain-jane 870, so base model it didn’t have a rib- bought for $80 at a time when $80 was the price of new shoes for a family of four. Came with a box of shells, Montgomery Ward #6 shot. Ten shells are missing, each one represents a rabbit. Of all the firearms I own I never take it out, rarely does it get uncased, I just know it’s there and like it fine like that.
Those are my three best things.
