Jimmy Hoffa, Junior looks like the Pillsbury Dough-Boy, but acts like Albert Gore, Junior after being rebuffed by a middle aged masseuse who refused to release his middle chakra in his hotel room in Seatle, Washington last year. Seems Jimmy, like many others who benefit from the great greasy govermental teat, suffers from, Post-Traumatic Tea Party Detractor's Syndrome or PTTPDS for short.
"We've got to keep an eye on the battle that we face: it is the tea party, that bunch of overpaid, under taxed middle class Americans that are trying their damnest to keep da Union Worker down. Boots on our necks. It was da Tea Party and Bill Clinton who sent our jobs to Mexico, and China, and da Tea Party that wants to lower taxes and shrink da size of da federal government. What is a Union Goon to do? What do they think, Union Goons live free?"
I asked Jimmy, Junior to break down the Union Worker's attitude toward the tax paying American and he said the following:
"Jack Maybolt, here is da way it is. Da Union is on top of da heap. Den you gots your government employees, followed by da politicians, and den da school teachers, da fire and police, da airport groppers, den yous got da non-union apes, and lastly holding all this up is da regular old Tea Party Pukes."
"Jacky, we gots a good thing going and we ain't about to give it up to a bunch of white-a--ed punks in no f--king Tea Party." We control da counting of votes. Capasci amigo?"
"Jacky, when Obama re-organized General Motors, who got to keep theirs, da Tea Party members who held da bonds, or da Union goons? Goons win, goons win!"
"Jacky, if a Union goon wants to kick some Lily white Tea Partiers a--, tell me who gonna stop him? Police?....in da union, army?... in da union. Da judge...controlled by da unions? Nobody will stop a Union Goon from kicking some a-- if it needs kicking!"
"Jacky, we gonna take these son of bitches out and give back America to da America where it should be a place every union worker can earn a living. You see, we are da union, see us roar. We are da tail wagging da dog! We are da wet in water, da pow in power, we are da pee in people, and da us in USA. We are the judge. We are the jury, and we are the executioners!"
"Jacky, don mess wid da Union!"
I am taking his good advice, but I will no longer look for the union label, but the union libel. It is all gonna be downhill from here.
Other known and admitted sufferers of PTTPDS include:
Andre Carson, congressman from Indiana who told a group of black congressmen and women in Florida over the weekend that the members of congress who support the tea party "would love to see you and me hanging from a tree."
I suspect if we give Congressman Andre Carson enough cord with his public microphone he will hang himself. I think I can hear his stridorous screeching from my basement bedroom on C-Span now.
I estimate there are between 80 to 100 million tea party members who will take to the polls in 2012 and the face of government will be lifted out of the corrupt cesspool that has become Washington, DC.
I believe our Union brothers and sisters must make other plans as the government trough that fed them all these years is running out of slop. After 2014 and with Obama Care, our nation will be both broke and dissolute.
These are interesting times in which we find ourselves.
Jackson Delano Maybolt, President Urban Poverty Law Center
"Great money and great power draws thugs like bojo flies to a rotting corpse." Mother Maybolt, 1929-2008
Showing posts with label Jr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jr. Show all posts
Monday, September 5, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Urban Poverty law Center Policy on Tough Meat
Blogosphereons:
I am frazzled. Albert Gore, Jr my fellow Tennessean, with his funny ideas about global warming has caused some of the coldest temperatures and snowiest days here in West Tennessee. It was 4 degrees F this am when my bladder signaled my sleep was ending. My mind needs eight hours of sleep to feel rested, but my bladder is ready to get up in only six hours. I wish my organs would compromise and split the difference. I feel so tired all the time. Snowed on Monday, about 3 inches in a couple of hours, surprised the school folks and they called school off at 10 am.
My sister, Notill, is younger than me by about 12 yrs. Mother was in the change of life when she was conceived, and Mother thought she was dying with a tumor for several months after she began to swell and throw up. Mama was 49 when Notill was born.
Like all babies in the family, Notill was doted upon and was spoiled from the get-go. I do not think she ever cried and my mother and her mother kept Notill happy by feeding her candy any time she cried out. Notill learned how to get candy at an early age. She was a big baby!
I always hated it when Notill would come into my room. She had the stickiest hands on any little kid I ever seen. Her favorite thing was to slip up on me while I was sleeping and put her sticky little hands all over my face. It was so disgusting! It was as though she washed her hands in maple syrup and let them air dry.
The cats and dogs soon learned to be very wary of Notill. If she ever touched them, she would come back with gobs of fur stuck to her hands. For a while our animals appeared to have the mange, but it was just sweet little Notill being playful. I learned early on to keep my baseball cards safe I had to keep them up in the closet out of reach of Notill.
When she was a toddler my friends and I used to place bets on whether Notill could put something down after she picked it up. We would laugh and laugh as she would study the object we would give her, usually a small piece of paper or a small cut of mother's yarn, while she passed it from sticky finger to sticky finger, hand to hand, and, after losing interest, try to throw it and shake it free only to finally in a fit squat down on the floor and smear it onto the floor. Some times she had to use her foot to peel it off her hand and then she would stand up and triumphantly and ignorantly march away with the object stuck to her foot or shoe. Notill was our video game.
To my great relief and that of the family pets, Notill grew up to be a beautiful young woman, and she graduated from high school and married the Warner boy. They had
three delightful daughters, Harriet, Hilda, and Bob. Notil's husband, Robert, wanted a son so badly, when the third daughter was born with slightly ambiguous genitalia, he went with it and named her Robert Jr.
Bob was raised as a boy in all respects. He played with boy toys, helped his father work on the farm, and became quite the little misogynist. He would talk down to his mother and sisters and strike them if they crossed him. He lifted weights and wrestled in the 125 lb weight class and won state in his senior year. He dated the prettiest cheerleader. He is a Junior at the Ag college in Martin Tennessee and will be returning to work the farm with his daddy after graduation. Still thinks he is a boy. Doc Dalton gives him hormone shots so he don't have a period.
Anyway, I was up with my bladder this am and checked the temp outside, 18 degrees F, a heatwave! Had a new calf night of 4 degrees F. Larry Simmons built it a bed of hay and checked on it yesterday and it was up and feeding off its mother. Cows is tough, especially the ones they make into steaks at Walmart. Shucks, last time I bought a Walmart steak, I had Larry Simmons over and we grilled it and I took a bite and chewed it as much as I could until my jaw started aching, then I passed it over to Larry who has a new set of false teeth and he chewed on it for 10 minutes til he got chest pains and gave up, then we passed it off to the dog who chewed on it for half an hour before he left it in disgust, and I picked it up off the floor and chewed on it for another good 10 minutes and passed over to Simmons for one more try and we finally gave it up and ate our salads. Larry says the cow that steak came from had too much "string". I accepted his explanation, but hate to waste $5 on a chopped steak.
I was pissed off and Larry said we should take it back for a refund. On the way to Walmart, Larry slid his truck off the road and got us stuck. A fellow with a 4x4 pick up came by and offered to pull us out. We didn't have a tow strap, but Larry, who is smart this way, took the chopped steak and cut it in a long thin strip and tied one end of it to our axle and the other to the fellow's hitch and it held and got us pulled out of that snow bank! We was just glad to get out of that snow bank and weren't so upset with the Walmart meat department anymore.
$5 for a bad piece of meat seems criminal, but not a bad price for an indestructible tow strap.
Jackson D. Maybolt, President Global/Urban Poverty Law Centers
"If you are too fat to tie your shoes, buy a pair of loafers, lard-ass." Mother Maybolt, 1921-2008
I am frazzled. Albert Gore, Jr my fellow Tennessean, with his funny ideas about global warming has caused some of the coldest temperatures and snowiest days here in West Tennessee. It was 4 degrees F this am when my bladder signaled my sleep was ending. My mind needs eight hours of sleep to feel rested, but my bladder is ready to get up in only six hours. I wish my organs would compromise and split the difference. I feel so tired all the time. Snowed on Monday, about 3 inches in a couple of hours, surprised the school folks and they called school off at 10 am.
My sister, Notill, is younger than me by about 12 yrs. Mother was in the change of life when she was conceived, and Mother thought she was dying with a tumor for several months after she began to swell and throw up. Mama was 49 when Notill was born.
Like all babies in the family, Notill was doted upon and was spoiled from the get-go. I do not think she ever cried and my mother and her mother kept Notill happy by feeding her candy any time she cried out. Notill learned how to get candy at an early age. She was a big baby!
I always hated it when Notill would come into my room. She had the stickiest hands on any little kid I ever seen. Her favorite thing was to slip up on me while I was sleeping and put her sticky little hands all over my face. It was so disgusting! It was as though she washed her hands in maple syrup and let them air dry.
The cats and dogs soon learned to be very wary of Notill. If she ever touched them, she would come back with gobs of fur stuck to her hands. For a while our animals appeared to have the mange, but it was just sweet little Notill being playful. I learned early on to keep my baseball cards safe I had to keep them up in the closet out of reach of Notill.
When she was a toddler my friends and I used to place bets on whether Notill could put something down after she picked it up. We would laugh and laugh as she would study the object we would give her, usually a small piece of paper or a small cut of mother's yarn, while she passed it from sticky finger to sticky finger, hand to hand, and, after losing interest, try to throw it and shake it free only to finally in a fit squat down on the floor and smear it onto the floor. Some times she had to use her foot to peel it off her hand and then she would stand up and triumphantly and ignorantly march away with the object stuck to her foot or shoe. Notill was our video game.
To my great relief and that of the family pets, Notill grew up to be a beautiful young woman, and she graduated from high school and married the Warner boy. They had
three delightful daughters, Harriet, Hilda, and Bob. Notil's husband, Robert, wanted a son so badly, when the third daughter was born with slightly ambiguous genitalia, he went with it and named her Robert Jr.
Bob was raised as a boy in all respects. He played with boy toys, helped his father work on the farm, and became quite the little misogynist. He would talk down to his mother and sisters and strike them if they crossed him. He lifted weights and wrestled in the 125 lb weight class and won state in his senior year. He dated the prettiest cheerleader. He is a Junior at the Ag college in Martin Tennessee and will be returning to work the farm with his daddy after graduation. Still thinks he is a boy. Doc Dalton gives him hormone shots so he don't have a period.
Anyway, I was up with my bladder this am and checked the temp outside, 18 degrees F, a heatwave! Had a new calf night of 4 degrees F. Larry Simmons built it a bed of hay and checked on it yesterday and it was up and feeding off its mother. Cows is tough, especially the ones they make into steaks at Walmart. Shucks, last time I bought a Walmart steak, I had Larry Simmons over and we grilled it and I took a bite and chewed it as much as I could until my jaw started aching, then I passed it over to Larry who has a new set of false teeth and he chewed on it for 10 minutes til he got chest pains and gave up, then we passed it off to the dog who chewed on it for half an hour before he left it in disgust, and I picked it up off the floor and chewed on it for another good 10 minutes and passed over to Simmons for one more try and we finally gave it up and ate our salads. Larry says the cow that steak came from had too much "string". I accepted his explanation, but hate to waste $5 on a chopped steak.
I was pissed off and Larry said we should take it back for a refund. On the way to Walmart, Larry slid his truck off the road and got us stuck. A fellow with a 4x4 pick up came by and offered to pull us out. We didn't have a tow strap, but Larry, who is smart this way, took the chopped steak and cut it in a long thin strip and tied one end of it to our axle and the other to the fellow's hitch and it held and got us pulled out of that snow bank! We was just glad to get out of that snow bank and weren't so upset with the Walmart meat department anymore.
$5 for a bad piece of meat seems criminal, but not a bad price for an indestructible tow strap.
Jackson D. Maybolt, President Global/Urban Poverty Law Centers
"If you are too fat to tie your shoes, buy a pair of loafers, lard-ass." Mother Maybolt, 1921-2008
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