Angry Old Fat Man here. My mobile phone is dead.

Actually, it was dropped a couple of times in the past year or two and doesn't display or sense screen input anymore. It was a very nice Samsung smartphone, very expensive when I paid for it. It had an outstanding camera which took beautiful pictures even in low light. It had 32 GB of RAM which allowed me to load a large number of apps if I so desired (a grocery list one and a couple games were great). It allowed me to get on the Internet from practically anywhere and look up important stuff, like the date when Abe Vigoda died (you have to be pretty old to get that joke). And most importantly it had an alarm clock that got me up every morning without an annoying buzzing noise.

But yeah. Phone dead. No texting, talking, or alarming.

Being an old fart like myself, though, has made me hate anything and everything "smart". I like the good old days, when everything was dumb.

...continue reading "Dumb is Better"

Hello kiddies, it's me the Irritated Dude again.

The family had a pretty good Thanksgiving this year. My Mom was still in emotional recovery from losing Dad, but then again, she had been married to the man for over 50 years. She married him when she was roughly 17 years old, so it's completely understandable.

Also, she lives alone so she's found that she has to take care of things around the house that my father formerly did. I offered to help her, but I'm not in the best health myself and she has a lot of trouble thinking that I'm competent enough, so that's that. Besides, my sister visits her a lot with my Mom's youngest (and last) grandchild, and Mom has a few friends in the neighborhood to help her out as well.

So we didn't go to her house for Thanksgiving. However, my oldest son came down from New York for a week, and he wanted his Grandma's Thanksgiving specialty: homemade dumplings. For some reason my Mother refers to them as "pastry", but I'm guessing it's an old North Carolina thing where her side of the family originates.

That meant that I had to make the dumplings. I didn't do the job as well as my Mother, but it was sufficient for my boy, and he ate a decent amount of them along with the turkey I cooked.

We even fed the dog, who promptly went into a food coma. He loves turkey anyway, but he couldn't stop on the Thanksgiving bird until he passed out.

Before my oldest son had to return to his workplace up North, I treated him to two cinematic masterpieces via my streaming services:

The Godfather, and The Wolf of Wall Street. He mostly enjoyed them, though the latter movie was a bit cringeworthy for him.


For the latest news, Macron has proven to the French people how incompetent he is and how he doesn't understand the importance of looking out for the interests of his nation.

They have expressed how unhappy they are with his poor leadership with not just civil unrest, but violence.

Good going, you dimwit.

Well, Aggravated Husband here, and my family survived the hurricane that just ripped through North and South Carolina a few days ago.

We evacuated some days after our governor said we should. We have a son who lives in New York state, but we didn't have to go to his residence.

We stayed at a small hotel in Walterboro, SC for not quite a week, then proceeded home.

We were very, very lucky. When we we returned home, our house was not damaged at all and all of our utilities were still functional.

However, my mother is out of power with a number of surrounding roads blocked. She lives just outside of my hometown of Dillon, SC, which is experiencing the effects of flooding. At least her house is not flooded and she has a generator, so there is that. She also has other people she can live with nearby, so she isn't completely out of sorts. Thank the Good Lord for that.

To all that have assisted our section of the country. thank you and bless you.

Crazy Duck Lady may have suffered from premature empty nest syndrome, even though we have not thrown our youngest boy out of the house yet. He, however, will be 21 years old near the end of this month, so on Mary Anne's birthday earlier in the same month she was beginning to yearn for another little one to fill her heart and give some love to.

Well, she found it. It's furry and tiny and cute - everything Crazy Duck Lady wanted.

Say hello to the newest member of the family: Pixie Bear!

Angry dude here, the lucky husband of the Crazy Duck Lady.

Today's my birthday. I'll be fiftajjdisoijd this year.

I was born on my Dad's birthday. So I never really had big birthday parties or anything like that, especially considering the economic status my immediate family had when I was growing up.

But this is the first year that I've had my birthday that my Dad was not around to at least say "happy birthday" to me, and that I couldn't do the same to him. He died a number of months ago.

My Mom misses him so much, but she did wish me a happy birthday today. My wife and my boys will be here with me as I praise the good Lord for another year of life, and for all of them, I could never express enough gratitude.

Happy birthday, Dad. I love you, and will until I see you again.

Dear little morons,

Angry Old Fat Man here, aka your worst nightmare and the reason you dream of gulags as places to put me and my generation in.

Let me announce today's topic: the New Atheism and its ignorant dipshit unthinking followers.

I have been on Youtube lately and made the mistake of reading the comments, the writers of which overwhelmingly suffer horribly from the Dunning–Kruger effect.

This is mainly because young little morons do not know that they are ignorant, and therefore display their stupidity by believing if SMURT PEEPLZ HURP DURP (i.e., people that are as ignorant as they are) say it, it must be true and the little morons must repeat it 2 B SMURT 2 HYULK HYULK.

The piece of spinach stuck in my teeth right now is the description of Christianity as a "Bronze Age fairy tale hurp durp".

These little imbeciles have latched onto the "it's fashionable to be atheist because it makes me look smurt hyuk hyuk", which is an ignorant piece of mental trash and philosophical laziness. Why? Because anybody with any cursory knowledge of history and/or Christianity could tell you it's simply not true. It is also not true of the Quran.

The Iron Age (which, please note, succeeded the Bronze Age) began long before the advent of the New Testament and, for that matter, the Quran (which I don't care for, but anyways...) . Jesus Christ was crucified during the early Imperial period of Ancient Rome. As any enemy of Rome at the time could tell you, the typical Roman soldier did NOT have a bronze sword. It was STEEL, it was hard, and it was as nearly as sharp as a razor. So no, it WASN'T the Bronze Age.

Islam came along after a couple of hundred years of Imperial Rome's collapse. Scimitars were long, curved, hard, and sharp. AND STEEL.

So this whole "Bronze Age" bullshit you want to pull out is simply you being parrots for people only slightly more knowledgeable than you are, if you consider Kim Kardashian's huge ass and drooling hatred of President Donald Trump to be knowledge. You need to put down the Playstation controller, go outside, and get a job, at which point you will begin praying that the government doesn't take all of your money and give it to a useless basement-dwelling moocher who has bipolar PTSD autism that only allows him to breathe and maintain a Twitch channel to play some game with his fellow moochers with lots of bright lights and loud noises.

AOFM signing off, for now.

 

Hello my delightful little readers, it's me, the Nasty, Angry One.

Wow. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

I'm so sorry about the time period involved, but we've had a lot going on at Casa de Pato Loco (House of the Crazy Duck). Thanksgiving, family loss, Christmas, and now New Year's. Along with my working over 2 hours away, one way.

Anyway, onto the GREAT news. This new year, 2018, brings with it the fifth book in the Forever Series, A Forbidden Forever.

According to the author, my dear wife, this one is from the viewpoint of Vlad the Gypsy. Click the picture above and buy it for the Kindle. The paperback will be available soon.

Until next time, my kiddies, have a Happy New Year and may 2018 be one of the best for you, if not the best.

1

I'm from South Carolina and it's a football rivalry state.  Here, you're either a Gamecock or a Tiger.  You may not have attended either school, but you're still one or the other. (I attended law school at the University of South Carolina, so it's a legit alma mater for me. And BTW, like Darius Rucker says, our USC was a school before California was a state.) In SC, team loyalty is a matter of tradition, heritage and culture.  Both teams have had good years and bad years, but fans stay loyal.  Clemson has had many more good years and by far holds the edge in the rivalry football game - especially lately - but forget that whole National Championship thing.  You know what matters?  It matters who wins the Carolina-Clemson game.

The Gamecocks have been in a rebuilding period since Steve Spurrier walked away from the team mid-season several years ago.  But they hired Coach Will Muschamp and he's done an amazing job.  It's Year 2 of the Muschamp era and the Gamecocks are #2 in the SEC East - instead of dead last as was predicted pre-season, and they'll end with a winning record and go bowling.  They're 7-3 now, Wofford is ahead which will have the Cocks 8-3 going into the last game of the season -- the "Palmetto Bowl" - the BIG one - the Carolina-Clemson game.  No one outside of the state thinks we can beat Clemson this year, but Gamecock fans believe.  And win or lose, the Gamecocks will proceed with the motto that Muschamp brought -- "So what?  Now what?"

I read a blog  from "The State" newspaper, and it's the first time I'd heard of the motto.  It seems the team has adopted it and the players live it now.  I've just decided to adopt it too.  What better saying to guide your life?  Whether you won or lost, yesterday is in the past. We can't change yesterday.  We can relive it, and allow the mistakes of the past to define the future or we can say, "so what."  If it was, then it was and no amount of self-torture will change it.  It happened.  So what?

The thing we can change is what we'll do today, and how we'll approach tomorrow.  We can choose to recognize that today is ours to conquer and tomorrow is ours to prepare for.  We can wake up saying, "now what?"

On a writing level, this means that I can look at Amazon and see that my books haven't taken off yet.  Kindle Unlimited folks - love y'all - have been reading, but not enough customers have been buying.  I could wallow in that, and cry over that.  I could toss up my hands and stop writing altogether, or I can say, "So What? Now What?" I chose the latter.  I've dropped the price of a few of my books to .99 cents, hoping that it will spur some folks to join a duck lady in the journey over the top of forever.  The books that are currently .99 cents are:  Brotherly Love, Seducing The Billionaire, and Tempting Duty.

Maybe you haven't read one of my books before.  So What?  Now what - you can do is pick up one of my .99 cent specials and give crazy love a try.  And here in Casa de Duck my youngest son and I (the football fans in the family) will await the Carolina-Clemson game, saying So What if Carolina lost last year. It's Now What time!

Somehow, somewhere SOMETHING gave birth to the myth that the far left of the political spectrum is the cool place. If you’re in the middle or on the right, then you’re either stupid or evil. It’s a nonsensical, vapid myth, but the far left has preached it so long that many are as indoctrinated as Scientologists. They don’t associate with or listen to non-lefties. If you’re caught being reasonable, you’ll be disconnected. And that’s the true evil.

Hollywood has long disconnected moderates and conservatives. Actors who dare hold views similar to most Americans hide them to blend in so that they can continue to work. It’s a whopper-sized hypocrisy to profess to be open and giving and yet be closed to listening, sharing or considering other opinions. The rabid left exists in a hyperbaric echo-chamber. Thank God, I thought, that writers are stronger and freer than the actors imprisoned in their own make-believe world.

At least, I believed that until recently. I saw General John Kelly’s amazingly brave appearance at yesterday’s press conference.  A father whose career was sending other young people into harm’s way, who saw too many of them return in caskets, watched his own son choose that path.  Then he got the sad news he’d had to deliver to other parents. Yet, he was courageous enough to speak about his experience to explain why a soldier’s comfort, like a soldier’s world, is very different from the lives and realities of those of us who have never served.  I cried a little as I watched, and listened and I saw how much respect General Kelly has earned on so many levels.

I logged onto Twitter (@quackingalone) and saw that #JohnKelly was trending.  I wandered over and was shocked to see the rabid left there having a contest to see who could do the best job at denigrating a man brave enough to share his personal tragedy, and courageous enough to admit that he’d had to personally lead other American heroes to their deaths. Who could watch and not be moved as he shared his own tragedy to explain a soldier’s comfort to America?  I posted this Tweet:  “#GeneralJohnKelly – today you proved that patriot doesn’t mean pushover and that courage takes many forms. #JohnKelly”

Yesterday I logged onto my Twitter account to see that I’d been unfollowed by a huge number of OTHER AUTHORS.  So, I learned that I was, sadly, wrong. Like actors, those authors take the money of mainstream America, but they disconnect anyone who has another view, who sees another reality. These writers want you to enter the worlds they create, to fall in love or laugh or cry while their characters do – but they don’t want mainstreamers to know that secretly, they’re laughing at us and looking down at us. Luckily, it doesn’t have to be secret any longer. Anyone can check out an author on Twitter BEFORE clicking the buy button.

If you’re a reader who is tired of being shown that you matter less and are less deserving of respect because you don’t drink the left-handed Kool-Aid, then maybe you should vote with your wallet.  Before you buy a book, log onto the writer’s Twitter account and see who he or she follows. Does it include people with views similar to yours? A writer should be following a wide, expansive and diverse community of folks.  It should include people across the political spectrum. The group should be defined by who is interesting, not by who is a rabid leftie. If you don’t see people in that group who believe like you do, then you should reconsider that purchase.

Those who believe that everyone is entitled to respect shouldn’t tolerate disrespect and condescension from people we give our money to. Don’t support anyone who wants to sell you something but would never listen to you or consider your thoughts.  If we don’t use the power of the purse to insist that freedom is as grounded in listening and sharing as it is in talking and pontificating, we’ll lose it forever. Our soldiers, sailors and marines and especially our Gold Star families who’ve paid the ultimate price deserve better. Freedom isn’t free and respect is a two-way street.  Check before you buy.

Howdy sweeties, it's the angry old husband here, been awhile, nice to talk to you again, yadda yadda yadda.

Thanks to Facebook, I found the video that is the pinnacle of ecstasy for my dear wife, the Crazy Duck Lady.

What few of you know is that not only does she revere ducks (especially baby ducks), she likes to talk randomly about fish as well.

Well, the video below was practically tailor-made for her. Check it out - a baby duck feeding fish.