End Hiatus.

I’ve heard from a few who want me to blog on. I’m good with that...

End hiatus!

First of all, I’ve been working a ton, an antiquated concept---providing for oneself.

Also, I got me one of those 21 billion jiggawatt desk tops, which was long, lomg overdue. In  addition,  I went and added a 42 billion jiggawatt notepad. 

I upgraded to a smart phone, but in retrospect, seems like a fairly dumb undertaking.

Thanks to our Incompetent-in-Chief and his perpetually needy band of prehensile-prone myrmidons, come election day I will be going with a straight party ticket…something I have never, ever done before.  Sorry, but those aforementioned myrmidons don’t possess  even an iota of a clue, and need to be summarily dispatched back to the mythical kingdom of Utopia.  

You see, there’s more to governance than providing a warm, moist orifice to public sector unions, one-issue jerk-off clans and the growing hordes of illegal aliens. 

I suppose the Ebola vaccine can’t be too far off, being that evil corporations are out to make a buck. 

Doesn’t matter much to me since I avoid pills, vaccines and suchwhat like the plague. 

I’ve some new responsibilities on the professional front, including the transport and application of poison gas. 

Still no tattoos, steel rods in my face or green hair. Yes, somehow, I’m still yet to be invited to the freak show tent. What a freak! Hell, I’m so completely old-fashioned, I still like girls.

Anyway, I’ll be posting some malarkey and such here on these electronic pages. And,  if and when that sexy phone of mine allows me to, I’ll even add some pics.

Later

Work, work, work

Just another day at the mill..

Taken in Scranton.

Later

Saturday morning one-liners

Being that I’ve come to the realization that most of my life is behind me rather than ahead of me, I no longer give a sh*t about politics, local or otherwise. Besides, other than the growing legions of people currently raping the treasury, nobody else really gives a sh*t about the ongoing government overreach, waste, fraud and traitorous intention.

I figure I know how to start an armed revolution in this country. What we need to do is release an authentic-looking study which concludes that smart phones are accelerating global warming, or global change or whatever the carbon tax shysters are calling it of late. Yeah, is those twenty and thirty-somethings are led to believe that the powers that be are coming for their blessed phones, all hell would likely break loose.  Yeah, all of a sudden, we’d be getting a thundering roar of ‘no applicability.’

I’ve been noticing a pronounced uptick in abject discourtesy and a clear lack of civility coming from the self-impressed populace, and to be blunt, most of the under-40 folks I encounter remind me of myself when I was 15-years-old. And since I have an acute memory, trust me, this is not a fortuitous happening.

Since when are the laws of this formerly great nation cobbled together and announced by only one man? We need to get a handle on that.

Since this same man will not protect our sovereignty, our treasury , our culture, or our traditions, I think it’s time that we all pick a new destination we might eventually call home.

In a few days, Wifey and I will celebrate our 40th year as a couple. She’s certainly not the same girl I met at the Coal Street Park pool. Sadly, I AM still that 15-year-old boy she met while Eddie Day & TNT wailed.

Since I find myself surrounded on any given day by those who obviously escaped the Freak Show tent, those given to abject lawlessness and those too self-absorbed to resist making love to their sexy phones while they operate motor vehicles, the old auto-hostility issues are reemerging for Markie. In short, most of what passes as humanity these days need s a punch in the face. Sorry, but it’s become inarguable. You’re not safe from sexual assault at the local library?

Support your local police, folks. They are your very last line of defense. And, no, they should not be haranguing CDL drivers for the purposes of generating revenue, they should be out patrolling their municipalities. Do you hear me Avoca? Sugar Notch? Wright Township?

I would like to know if the Wilkes-Barre Taxpayers Association actually has a mission other than calling the elected slanderous names? Just curious.

If the state legislature really thinks that electronic cigarettes should be taxed, then the lot of them should face impeachment.

The U.S. seems to have only two remaining growth industries: government bureaucracy and tattooing. Meaning, we are both screwed and garish-looking.

Save for Sue Henry, I have abandoned WILK radio for 97.9X. If it were my call to make, the much-needed new lineup at WILK would be Sue, Fred, L.A. and Joe. Done!

Folks, it seems as if we’re well on our way to legalizing drugs all over the place. And some how, this passes as progress?

Guns, canned goods, water and ammo.

Later

@ Mill Creek

There are two distinctly different ways to beat the heat.

Insert hoagie into pie hole and collapse in a lump by the air conditioner, or...

Ignore it!

2014 River-Feat: Good, bad & ugly.

I participated in the 2014 River-Fest event, by paddling some 15 miles from Harding to Wilkes-Barre.

After some figuring, we agreed that this was my 12th such foray into a massed paddling event. Still and all (trailer park speech), this would be the very first time that I would take a kayak out under my power. For my 10-year-old grandson, this would be his seventh consecutive launch. And for the first time, Jeremy joined us, despite his fear of sharks, alligators and sea monsters.

Yes, thanks to some marital combat emanating from within my tribe, a conniving sort pulled this stunt---without warning--whereby we would be forced to fit four men in a 3-man boat. Cute. I'm assuming she hoped this would scuttle our launch altogether.

Thanks to David Buck of Endless Mountain Outfitters, I was able to gain access to a 12-foot Pongo just as the paddlers at the water's edge were being briefed on all things river safety. Namely, wear your vest, wear your vest, and wear your vest.

Being up a few feet, the river was muddy, something that should not be confused with pollution. Yes, there was some acid-mine drainage in the usual spots, as is always the case here in the Wyoming Valley. But when in shallow water, the river bottom was very visible, a good sign for any recovering, free-flowing river. And as usual, there was plenty of wildlife to be gazed upon all along the river's banks.

Anyway, I'll keep this short...

Later

 

The 2014 Wyoming Valley River-Fest is underway

I'll see you fellow paddlers in the morning.

2004 (the monsoon year) below...with Gage Andrew.

Later

Parsons Lions Club Memorial Day Parade

Neat little undertaking in our bedroom community...

 

 

R-Fest 2014

I'll see y'all out there...

U.S.S. DUDE

Above: The U.S.S. Dude, a retired Iowa-class battleship which displaces 29 ,000 tons and can cruise at 50 knots while fully loaded with paddlers, sports drinks, Nutri-Grain bars and bristling with armaments.

The U.S.S. Dude is on permanent display and can be toured at the Harleysville Boat Works north of Philadelphia. For details call Rear Admiral K.D. Williams at 1-800-DUDE.

Later
 

Half-staff

Busy.

Pics, not words.

Have a wonderful cookout.

Bye

76 or bust!

If they can't or won't support Senate Bill 76, DO NOT vote for them.



Vote tomorrow!

Later

Flat-Earth this!!!

You know, before you go around accusing folks of believing that the Earth is flat, understand that we’ve been hearing this climate upheaval, snake oil routine since the 1970s. And know that we’re not all easily-led pussies like you.

When I was in college, they were pitching global cooling, some routine about a coming ice age.

That proved to be filth.

Not long after that, the new religion became Acid Rain. Oh, yeah, acid rain was destroying everything good and wholesome and life-sustaining.

That proved to be filth.

So as to command complete control of the masses, they then came up this with end-of-the-world gambit wherein holes in the ozone layer were promising to cook the Earth. Medium-well.

Filth.

Melting polar icecaps/flooded coastal cities.

Nice try. Filth.

Global warming?

Filth.

Climate change?

More filth.

Polar vortex?

Still more filth.

So…I’m a fu>kin’ dummy iffin’ I’m not buying the newly-constituted, apocalyptic snake oil? Says you? Really? You’re intent upon getting your face punched in?

Bring it, brainiacs!! I will punch your faces.

Flat-Earth this!!!

Later

Compressor station

I snapped these pics in Lairdsville, PA, while on my way back from a seminar in Williamsport. Well, actually, just a few miles north at Cogan's Station.

I'm assuming this facility has something to do with fracking.

Remember, the chemical cocktail being pumped into the ground is proprietary information and available only on a need-to-know basis. And since you're just some average Joe not capable of bribing the elected and the appointed, you don't need to know.

Remember, while your natural gas bills climb higher and higher and still higher, we need to fracture all three layers of shale so as to increase America's exports.

Yea!

God bless Amerika.

Later

Tyranny 101

Stefan Molyneux...



Later

The BLM mass grave

The Bureau of Land Management, government overreach personified, reserves the right to kill your property in an effort to protect, to protect...wait for it, to protect a desert.

Watch it. Do it. And realize that you were not supposed to see it.



Later

Bunkerville Tea Party

Your master...the Fedrule Govmint at work.



Shut up & pay your taxes.

Later

2nd amendment on parade

Fedrule Govmint overreach, over-regulation, bureaucratic largess and confiscatory taxation has led us to a stagnated state, while the "Land of the Free" is no more.

Senator Harry Reid called a group of armed Americans massed to protect the Cliven Bundy ranch from Fedrule shock troops "domestic terrorists," but remember the Waco and Ruby Ridge massacres, in which Fedrule storm-troopers summarily executed American citizens by order of some partisan myrmidon in an office a million miles away.

When Americans loose their livelihoods to save some little-seen desert tortoises, freedom has stopped ringing.

The right to bare arms, man.

Later

Theresa

Welcome to termite season.

I’ve been working six-day weeks since the beginning of March, with absolutely no end in sight to the overtime parade. Besides, since blogging is rapidly going the way of opposite-sex unions, it’s not like anyone would miss my usual circumlocutions.

In addition, since the heavily-listing US of O is completely bereft of capable leadership, it’s not like activism is going to help pull us back from the rapidly-approaching abyss. At this point, activism brings to mind some song lyrics: “Despite all my rage, I’m still just a rat in a cage.”

Eat, drink too much, be merry and embrace the coming end. Like Kevin Dillon said in Platoon: “Besides, if you die you won’t know about it anyway.”

A profundity, perhaps?

At this point, I might be the only person in Wilkes-Barre that hasn’t been served with a subpoena.

Doesn’t much matter anymore. The US of O is broke. The State of Pennsylunions is broke. Wilkes-Barre is broke. As in, there’s no relief in sight. There ain’t no cavalry charge coming. Start filling those potholes out front with soil. Oh, and pick up all of those thousands of errant recyclables.

If everyone currently working at City Hall gets rounded up and shipped off to some insidious Soviet gulag, you’ll still be filling your own potholes and sweeping up the recyclables.

Hillary in 2016?

Yeah! As the former secretary of state, I’d love to hear her explain why war and chaos is damn close to breaking out all over the globe.

Put a fork in that windbag.

Wifey and I have spent the past couple of days recounting her senior prom.

Yeah, I know. I remember when a local radio talk show host accused local bloggers of being bitter-for-life after not being invited to proms and the like, but she knows about as much as your typical salamander knows.

We started dating at the end of her freshman year at G.A.R. Memorial high school, formerly and accurately known as Garbage, Ashes & Rubbish. During her senior year, I walked over to her house and told her I didn’t want to see her anymore, because her father was fast pushing me to the point of committing a long overdue aggravated assault. She exploded in tears and ran back into her house.

Saddened and disgusted, I got into my car and drove down Coal street only to see an unmanned, rampaging bulldozer cross the street in front of me, crush a car and slam into a home. Stunned, I turned left onto Grant street. All these years later, I work with a guy who was in that house when it hit.

After we broke up, I started seeing another G.A.R. girl who just kind of presented herself as being very interested. She was cool. We dated for a few months. I liked her. She seemed smart, had her entire life planned out, she was fun to hang with and cute as all get-out.

I was in my first year of culinary and she persistently harangued me about going with her to her senior prom. Every time she pressed me on it, she got an immediate and unequivocal NO! You see, playing dress-up and eating fruit cocktail will never be classified as having fun by this knucklehead.

But, she eventually pulled the crying bit at the McDonald’s in Wyoming after a bit of miniature golf just next door, so I reluctantly agreed. Yes, I said, I would attend her senior prom with her on my arm.

Chicks, man!

What I didn’t know was that Wifey would also be attending the prom with a date of her own. I knew the guy. Let’s just say, prior to that night, I always tolerated the guy. No sense beating on the geek.

Anyway, it wasn’t long before my date got lost, drunk and high and was draped over a toilet bowl by her equally lost, drunk and high gal pals. And after quite the boring while, I figured Why Not?, marched on over to her table and asked Wifey to dance.

We’ve been married almost 35 years now.

Together for 38.

I’ve been blogging since December of 2000, and never once used her name and never once posted a picture of her. That was a promise I made to her when I first created the local blog scene.

Know what?

That’s blown all to hell.

Theresa.

Later

Houston AIG fire

This is as cool a customer as you will ever run across.



Way cool.

Later

Is Estonia next?

Vladimir Putin has invaded Chechnya.

Vladimir Putin has invaded Georgia.

Vladimir Putin has invaded Ukraine.

Vladimir Putin has annexed Crimea.

Meanwhile, back at the Amerikan decline...



Buh-bye

Grandrodents

Got myself a stay-cation this week.

And I got the entire crew in town.

Later

WBPD: Purple

Purple.

Looks all bitch-slap cool.

Purple or otherwise, the last line of defense.

Send these folks a pizza or two.

Later

Parade day '14

Another parade day in the books.

Kind of cold, too windy and way too many trailer park escapees begging and pleading for candy. Other than that, I got nothing.

Many thanks to the grandrodents: Gage, Taylor & Zach. Oh, and to the impromptu parade marshals: Peace and Ebon.

Now, real quick like, some city business type stuff.

I'm told that the W-B credit union flap which brought the FBI to City Hall involves a "slush fund."

Got me by the ball bearings. I'm a private sector boy. So I'm not near as proficient at greed, prevaricating, graft and unionized theft like you public sector boys.

Later

MUST-SEE

Barry And Zach...

Between Two Ferns

)

Meanwhile...back at the Ukraine...

Later

'Prioritize'

So, no more phone and no more cable?

)

Nah. He's no Jimmy Carter II.

Later

From water...

The illustrious Kayak Dude paid us a visit today, all the way from down where those Philly-type folks typically stomp all about.

KD managed to befriend me via these electronic pages some 13 years ago in spite of myself being me.

I used to blame my anti-social behavior and my previously diagnosed auto-hostility issues on my troubled, stranger than fiction upbringing. Then, after I reconnected with my father for a fleeting fortnight just over a year ago, I figured I was what I was (damaged) because of heredity, being that dear old AWOL dad has some serious paranoia going on there.

Paranoia coupled with fading anger, that's the ticket. Or, as the more current common parlance has it---not my fault. But my life is what I've made of it. Excuses and cop-outs aside, I am the architect of this cracked and frayed facade. I could spin through the entire panoply of reasons and excuses and justifications, but just know that while I'm admittedly damaged goods, I'm all good with where I'm at and what eventually led me here. It's one thing to crash during the race, but the end-all goal is to end up at the finish line.

And as I approach that aforementioned finish line, the way I figure it, I can't be all that bad if someone such as KD would bother to drop on by the Parsons adobe with some Wyalusing, PA-brewed River Barge Brew in tow.

If you're into good lager, if you're into full-bodied lager being brewed as I type within spitting distance of the endangered Susquehanna river, then perhaps you ought to consider a road trip up north a ways.

As I recently pointed out, from water comes beer. And if the quality of our water is under assault due to hydro-fracturing, then our life force---beer---is likewise under assault.

So, I put it to you NEPA, are you willing to idly stand by and have the upstanding quality of your local beer compromised? Will you do nothing as your lands and water aquifers are plundered and sullied in the name of exported natural gases? Or will you stand and fight (provided that the pencil neck geek-in-chief, the IRS, the FBI,  the ATF, the TSA and LCB don't get wind of your annoying insolence)?

From water comes beer.

And so does life itself.

KD, I will gladly join you at that upstate Chief Muckamucka paddling event. Or, whatever it was.

Later

What else people live...

Real life...



Sandy Beach drive-in...



I figure we're going to have to go all red line "Syria" on the Russians.

Uh, never you mind about that. Forget I mentioned that.

New food labeling, folks.

Later

The Russians are coming

Barry Oblahblah's good buddy Vlad is invading yet another neighboring country, this time Ukraine.



M-24 troop transports and M-28 attack choppers over the skies of Ukraine.

Bloodshed and chaos continue to spread around the globe, while we continue to gut our military to finance freebies for the slothful.

Nice.

Later

Stuff

The former Salvation Army flop house on Hazle Avenue is no more.

Seems the parolees moved into some new digs some months ago.

I once walked from Wilkes-Barre to this facility to take in a Coughlin football game.

It's named after some local these days, but most of us would remember it as being Wyoming Area stadium. During that long ago walkabout, I traded fists and one foot with one of the locals on Boston Avenue. Yeah, Carmen was being cheered on by his rowdy compatriots right up until the moment when his eyed rolled back, then me and my cousin and his neighbor ran away giggling and slapping five. Coughlin lost.

Depending on how things in Ukraine play out, Russian troops and T-72s could be swooping into the former Soviet property any day now.

Vladimir Putin has this grand scheme by which most of the former Soviet Union would be rejoined in an "economic union," and a Ukraine looking to align itself with the West rather than with Russia just will not do.

In addition, Ukraine leases the home of Russia's Black Sea fleet to Russia, and never, ever will Putin allow that base to be threatened in any way by anything of any sort---especially nationalist pride run amok.

I did not watch a single minute of the winter olympics.

Who cares?

Cable bill got you down?

Google "Roku 3."

I did.

Bye, bye cable bill.

Later