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What Western news has turned into and it ain’t pretty

I was having dinner at a restaurant with a pool (down in the Keys such things exist). I was with my family: two grown sons, their wives and kids and my husband.

Suddenly my son bolted from the table and dove into the pool, clothes and all. He had seen a toddler slip under the water in the semi-deep end and not make a sound. When people saw him running they began to pay attention and realized what he was doing but he was on it so there was nothing else to be done. The mom was standing on the other end chatting up a friend, and didn’t see a thing.

My son, who just HAPPENS to be a Coast Guard Rescue Swimmer, brought the girl up and she was coughing and petrified but other than that, she was okay. He asked her “Where’s Mommy?” and she pointed to the mother.

My son carried the child over to the woman, who was still talking and had not noticed a thing. He tapped her on the shoulder and set the girl down. “She fell in the pool,” he said. “Oh, thanks,” she said, and turned to continue her conversation.

At this point, others who had witnessed the entire thing confronted the mother and said “Hey, that man just saved your child’s life. She slipped under the water!” The mom was appropriately chagrined and apologized for not being more responsible and finally realized he was wearing regular clothes. People were still talking about it when she scooped up the sniffling child and left. She never even realized that her life could have been changed in that second.

We see drownings in the movies and it’s always someone splashing about in a frenzy. But in real life, drownings are silent. The person who doesn’t know better just sinks, instead of puffing out his lungs and helping himself stay buoyant. I never knew that.

Richard Wolff on How Russia Destroyed NATO’s Economic War and Europe is Collapsing

Collective delusion. Cultural madness.

India faces massive problems that hinder its development, starting with a dysfunctional democratic government. It is overly bureaucratic. Its regulatory structure discourages foreign investment. It is often hostile to foreign companies.

India has a large, rapidly-growing, young population but it is poorly educated. Indian literacy is quite low.

India’s female participation rate in the labour force is quite low.

India is fractured by ethnic strife. Hindu nationalism exacerbates the problem.

India has serious human rights issues, particularly with respect to women.

India’s caste system remains an obstacle.

India’s infrastructure is seriously lagging behind China.

India is mired in extreme poverty with over 100 million people living in these conditions.

Can India overcome all these obstacles and challenges? If I were a betting man, I wouldn’t put my money on India. Sorry. The odds really suck.


China’s economy is 4.7X larger than India’s by nominal GDP.

China’s economy is 2.4X larger than India’s by purchasing power parity. [Source: IMF.]

Even assuming Indian growth of 8% to Chinese growth of 5%, it would take India more than 30 years to catch up to China. The math doesn’t lie.

Can India grow at 8% ???

Douglas Macgregor Warns: US Forces Are Under ATTACK Around The World! Wind Is CHANGING Direction

This just happened to me.

I worked as a manager for 3 years, improving systems, increasing productivity, and even doubling the company’s clientele within 1.5 years. I consistently received rave reviews from staff and clients. I was efficient, trustworthy, loyal, kind, funny, was always early, and stayed late anytime they needed me. I ran the business while the owner was able to look into opening a second location because of how much I improved her business.

One month ago (Nov. 2019), I came to work like any other day. I booked several new clients within my first 30 minutes. I was then called into a meeting with the owner and another manager. I was handed an email I had written the day before. I read it and asked what was wrong. The manager said, “We are moving to termination.” Shocked, with all the blood in my body now rushing out (I could feel myself turn white), I said, “I don’t think this is right. Where is the disciplinary trail?”

They proceded to tell me they did not need a disciplinary trail and gave me no reason other than the way I had written the email made it sound like I threw the manager under the bus. This was not my intent and I profusely apologized for it coming off that way. I tried to discuss the fact that I had no previous disciplinary problems. The owner and manager then started bringing up little mistakes I had made – nothing bad, just simple mistakes, and things I had never before been made aware of.

I proceeded to remind them how much I have done for the company and asked if we could instead discuss this rather then just get rid of me. I kept asking why. They never had a straight answer. They never had me sign anything. At one point the manager said, “Go process this at home, goodbye.”

As I gathered my belongings while they watched me like hawks, I stuttered and mumbled, trying anything to make sense of what was happening. I still have no idea why I was fired nor what the grounds for firing me were.

I am moving on, but hurting a lot. I absolutely loved the job and the work, and I believed in the company. I am angry and sad and I know this wasn’t right. But I have no recourse. They had made up their minds and there was nothing I could say or do. I wish I knew what happened and I wish I could go back and say the magic words. My only choice is to move ahead.

It helps a bit reading from others who say this type of incident isn’t right and also that I’m not the only one this has happened to.

Side note – I found out a couple of weeks later that my office assistant quit the day after I left and that the owner replaced me with her daughter.

UPDATE June 2020: Thank you for all of your up votes and comments, I really appreciate them. To update, they had to eventually hire 3 people to take over my position. Many employees have quit as have many clients. The person who took the lead in firing me was demoted soon after and recently quit.

Pad Mi Korat Phet
(Hot Noodles, Korat Style – Thai)

The route to this recipe started with a couple of requests for a hot version of pad Thai.

Pad Mee Korat3
Pad Mee Korat3

Unfortunately for those that asked, whilst you can add anything you like to pad Thai | including chiles | the result is not authentic. It simply isn’t done (which is not to say that Thais don’t load their plates of pad Thai with prik phom and chiles in fish sauce or vinegar ccording to taste)

Pad Thai is quite an elaborate dish. The style usually found in Thai restaurants outside Thailand is particularly elaborate, being referred to somewhat insultingly my Thai housewives as “pad Thai Krungthep” | the implication being that rich people in the capital do it that way to show off.

Ignoring the countryside versus capital debate, there is a local, very simple variant of the dish, known as pad mi Korat. Made with the round egg noodles known as sen mi, rather than the narrow rice ribbon noodles, and with a recipe that consists of partly cooking a cup of noodles, then stir frying them with a cup of sliced and shredded pak bung (swamp cabbage), adding a little tamarind juice for flavor, and drizzling a beaten egg over it to complete it.

However my wife prepares a more elaborate version of pad mi Korat, which is also fairly hot. This version I will call pad mi Korat phet (hot stir fried noodles in the Korat style).

Before I get into the details, I would like to make two comments.

The original of this dish is made with sen mi (Thai egg noodles), but if you can’t find them I find it works very well with a spaghetti or similar (the little shell shapes are good).

The original uses swamp cabbage, but any greens will do. If I fancy splashing out we make this with a mixture of broccoli and asparagus.

To simplify the dish I should point out that it is actually made using table condiments, thus the ingredients are not as complicated as they look. I will first include recipes for the table condiments you need. In Thailand these would probably be on every housewife’s table, but if you don’t have them you should make them about a week before you intend to cook the dish.

We make them in vast quantities for the restaurant (in 5 gallon containers), but for home use we use 1 pint spring top preserving jars. These have the advantage of fitting in the door shelves of our refrigerator.

Pad Mee Korat1
Pad Mee Korat1

Nam Pla Prik

Put 2/3 cup of prik ki nu (finely sliced green birdseye or dynamite chiles) into a 1 pint jar, and fill with fish sauce. Seal and keep for a week before using.

Prik Dong

Put 2/3 cup of prik ki nu daeng (finely sliced red birdeye or dynamtie chiles) in a 1 pint jar, and fill with rice vinegar (any white vinegar will do, as will cider vinegar, if rice vinegar is unavailable).

Prik Siyu Wan

Put 2/3 cup of prik chi fa (sliced red or green Thai jalapeños) in a 1 pint jar, and fill with sweet dark soy sauce.

Kratiem Dong

Peel and slice 2/3 cup of garlic, place it in the 1 pint jar, add 1 teaspoon of palm sugar, and 1 teaspoon of salt and 1/2 teaspoon of MSG (optional but recommended) and topped up with rice vinegar.

Khing Ki Mao

  1. Julienne 2/3 cup of fresh ginger (into match stick sized pieces). Place in the 1 pint jar. Add 1/2 cup of Mekong whiskey (Mekong is a whiskey made from Rice. If you can’t find it or prefer something else, any spirits, even sherry, will do). Add 1/2 cup of rice vinegar, and fill up the jar with fish sauce.
  2. Now we’ll progress to the pad mi itself.
  3. For this you will need 1 cup of noodles, 1/2 cup of green veggies, 1/2 cup of mild peppers such as prik chi fa (Thai jalapeños). If you want to try this but at a lower heat level, use the Thai chili called prik yiek, or a bell pepper. You also need 1 large egg (preferably a duck egg), some tamarind juice and sugar, and chiles, bai chi (coriander leaves) and a sliced cucumber for garnish.
  4. Place the noodles in water to soak for about 15 minutes.
  5. Place 2 tablespoons of the liquor from each of the five condiments listed above, together with 2 tablespoons of tamarind juice, in a small saucepan and simmer to reduce it to half its volume. When this is done heat a wok, and stir a teaspoon of the fish sauce from the nam pla prik into the egg, and beat it lightly. Drain 1 tablespoon of the pickle from each of the five condiments.
  6. If you are using Italian pasta, boil it for half the normal cooking time.
  7. Add all the ingredients except the egg and the reduced sauce to the wok and stir fry until the noodles are just ‘toothy’ in texture. Add the sauce, turn the heat to as high as possible, and when the sauce has come to a vigorous boil, gently drizzle the egg into the mix, which will cook it.
  8. Serve immediately, with the listed condiments, together with sugar and prik phom (powdered red chile), and decorate with the garnishes.

Weirdest? Maybe, you decide. I had asked a good family “friend” to check on my high school kids while I was going to be gone a couple nights. They were both working and responsible but I just wanted someone to look in on them, it made me feel better. He offered to stay over and would let the dog out if they were working. I thought that would be great. He was a good friend and I thought I knew him well Well, We ended up coming home sooner then planned and I messaged him our new plans. When did we expect to be home? About what time? Not sure why it mattered but I let him know. He acted strangely in his texts, which I didn’t pick up on until later. I wasn’t sure why he was even still at the house since we were coming back that evening, but I thought he was just being kind and taking care of the dog or maybe he wanted a quiet spot to be as he had moved back in with his parents to save money. Fast forward about 3 months and my daughter had to run home to grab something before a game. She had a couple other kids with her, one being a new kid. “Oh, I’ve been here before” he says. My daughter asked when. “ when I met up with someone on grinder “ my daughter didn’t believe him until he mentioned some details about the inside of the house. Well, after asking when and a description of the person she put two and two together, it was our good “friend.” My daughter was so upset she had a panic attack about the whole thing. She told me and I told my husband and we called law enforcement since he was a minor. There was an investigation and it turned out the kid lied about his age and nothing had actually happened because our friend had the sense to kick him out when he discovered he was not 18, and the investigation was ended. My daughter had to go through questioning about what she was told. We had to let our employer know because we work with kids and couldn’t risk this kid saying he was at our house with an adult male when they didn’t know the circumstances. Obviously I did not speak to the person again after this, and he had no idea why I was upset! He did not realize the repercussions that my family could have faced because of this or how disgusting this was even if not intentional. Now, we all knew he was gay and that’s not the disgusting part- it’s inviting a stranger into my home without my permission and possibly with my other kids around, it’s a safety issue, and a trust issue. If I don’t trust people anymore this is one of the reasons why.

What Was it About Malls in the 1970s?

Yes, I owned a burglar alarm company. The employee had been on the job about three weeks but was well trained. He failed to dispatch on an alarm. I fired him. He was black. He filed an EEOC complaint alleging I fired him because he was a black male. He had a black female supervisor and I had many employees of different races working for me. I did not discriminate on pay, male vs female, black vs white. The EEOC called me about the complaint and told me he would settle it for $1995. I told her no. She asked what I would counter with. I told her I wouldn’t counter. She told me they would have to audit me. Maybe I should counter with $995. I told her to audit. I was audited and no wrong doing was found. About a year later I received a notice that he had appealed. I called the EEOC and told them I was pissed. I was ready to sue but I had a supervisor on the line. He said just cool it. Ok. Was everything just as it was when I was audited? Sure! Ok, ty. The appeal was denied. Another year later I received a notice that he had appealed again. Really pissed now. Same supervisor. Really ready to sue. He said cool it. Was everything the same as when they audited? I said no, employees had come and gone but the ratios and pay were still equitable. I asked how many times this guy had done this. I was told that couldn’t be divulged but would hear nothing more. Appeal denied. The thing that still bothers me is that the EEOC initially really wanted me to pay to make the problem go away. Sad.

America Decline is identical to that of Tang Dynasty!?

My son is not my biological child. I met his mother when he was 7 and his little sister had just been born. Their biological father was in jail, having assaulted his wife when she was seven months pregnant, and was not present. Even when he HAD been present he was not a positive influence and poor Aaron had really been through way more than a child his age should ever have to experience, including a hospital visit that was necessary because he attempted to defend his mother from his abusive father.

Aaron’s mother had no one except her kids when I met her, and she had begun treating Aaron like a friend instead of her child. The lack of discipline or a male role model combined with Aaron being spoiled by his mother and his general anger at his father to create a child that had a very difficult time getting along with others his age. He and I used to play video games together all afternoon long, and over time he and I became very close. I took him under my wing and thus began a years long process of reforming him from a spoiled mamma’s boy (which doesn’t play too well here in the Deep South) to a rough and tumble young man with integrity and respect for others.

One of the biggest obstacles was that he was being relentlessly bullied. We switched him to different schools several times, but being socially awkward AND the “new kid” made him a natural target. Finally we put him in kickboxing so he could learn to defend himself.

Fast forward a few years. That scrawny awkward boy has become a big strong teenager that is both extraordinarily sensitive and YEARS ahead of his classmates in physical conditioning due to his dedication to his training. He became a standout football player his first season after setting a team record for sacks (I taught him how to slip blocks and punch through defenders and the kid learned incredibly fast).

So one day I get a call from his mom telling me that Aaron has been suspended for fighting. I’ve always told him not to start fights, but if someone puts their hands on him he’s free to defend himself. Of course I ask how it happened.

One of his buddies (a very small boy) had been getting bullied by a group of boys after school. These boys all live in a nearby neighborhood and walk home, and during that walk there’s no adult supervision. Several boys would team up on the one littler kid, and nothing was being done about it. Aaron decided to defend his buddy so the next time they did it he stepped in and beat up the ringleader. The little asshole’s parents made a big stink the next day so the school suspended all of them for fighting.

When I got home I told him I was proud of him. Even though he’s trained to fight he rarely does, he’s the sweetest kid and doesn’t like violence or hurting people. And now he finally did get in a fight, and it was to protect someone else. After all he’s been through he still cares about others and I’m incredibly proud of him for using his size and skills to defend weaker people.

“Hell On Earth” (Official Lyric Video)

He’s talking about the Lifestyles of Americans.

I was on a highway on the way home after teaching a night class. A driver in a Camaro came up to an intersection on the right and rolled through the stop sign (like most St Louis drivers do). I saw them approaching the stop sign and was thinking “they’re going to stop … they’re going to stop… oh no!”. Luckily there was no one to my left so I swerved left trying to avoid them but hit the front end of the car. If I hadn’t gone left I would have T-boned it right on the driver’s door.

No injuries, my little Mazda was totaled, the Camaro was missing it’s nose. Called AAA who dispatched law enforcement, exchanged insurance info with the lady driver, talked with law enforcement and waited for the tow truck etc.

Suddenly the driver’s daughter drove up and started ranting. “Who knocked the front end off of my new Camaro? I know they were speeding if they did that!”.

Her attitude rubbed me the wrong way so I tried to give her my perspective: “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Your mother pulled out right in front of me, I went left to try to avoid killing her. You need to go be with her.” She had a shocked look on her face as she walked away.

Retiring at 65 is a HUGE Mistake. Retirement Expert Explains​ Why

Very interesting, and frankly, frightening.

.

It’s really simple.

People who play lotteries are generally folks who I’d call “pay check people,” living check to check. They’ve never had much money and no prospects of any, like family inheritances.

When they Win Big they’re in euphoria, of course. But they haven’t a clue how to manage their sudden windfall of seemingly endless wealth. Oh, but plenty of other “well-meaning” friends and family do!

Turns out the biggest problem that lottery winners have is simple, good-hearted generosity: giving away too much money to family and friends. Family feel especially entitled to a nice, fat chunk. And if they don’t get it…? Trouble. And once the money spigot is opened, it’s hard to stop its gush.

Financial “advisors” circle like vultures and the pickings are easy. Winners are virtually never well-educated, certainly not in financial matters. For example, they have no idea what they owe the IRS on their miraculous windfall. And being ill-educated they cannot see the difference between a brilliant investment and a monstrous scam.

And so begins the sad spiral down to the misery of bankruptcy…or worse. They almost all utter a common cry, “Oh, God, I wish I’d never won!”

  • 70% of lottery winners are broke within seven years of The Big Win.

Read the horrifying Powerball stories on Fredrick Josefsson’s fascinating Comment. [scroll down below inoperative video on NY Daily News]

Brits Colin & Chris Weir are among the few winners living-Happily-Ever-After.

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main qimg 5c829dc5ad75e62581f533cb8c7e186c lq

The story is much the same with professional athletes. Often from truly dirt-poor families, they are now multimillionaires. They, too, have no meaningful financial education, but they do have out-sized egos. Vulture Inc. knows how to play the flattery game.

First purchase? Without question, a vast mansion for mom so she can move out of that shack. Then a couple of homes for themselves in places like Malibu, California or Jupiter, Florida or some other gilded ZIP Code.

Pro athletes just love “foolproof” investments. Like played-out gold mines in Alaska. And they rarely fly “commercial” like you and me. No, they charter private jets such as the Gulfstream below which costs $5,000 a flight hour. That’s $60,000 from Malibu to Jupiter and back.

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main qimg 95ea1eb7b2995eca0ec7d4a5b06fe8e9 lq

Coke, cars, planes, jewelry, women, Vegas and dozens of flattering friends who magically vanish when the money does. Five or six years after hanging up the spurs, the once-proud athlete is flat-ass broke. Some end up in jail for schemes that went criminal. And, sadly, a few actually become homeless.

All this is so common, it’s a cliché. You’ve surely been to parties where people ‘cluck-cluck’ about it. There’s even a well-known German term for this happy clucking: Schadenfreude [SHAH-den-froy-da] It means happiness at another’s misfortune or humiliation—especially when that person was once rolling in $ dough $.

At the next party, Impress—or mystify—those clucking guests with this: “Oh, isn’t Schadenfreude such fun?”

Champion boxer Mike Tyson (top photo) once spent $173,706 on a gold chain, $410,000 on a birthday party. Evander Holyfield once owned a 109 room mansion with a $17,000 monthly electric bill. Once owned—but not for long.

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main qimg 54c4ce7d7ffbb927193602bfc220ee8d lq

Alien: The Deleted Airlock Sequence – Explained

Well…..

Our snazzy grandma didn’t say a whole lot, but when she did speak, it was almost always what many people would call inappropriate.

And….

Our grandpa did say a lot, but he was even more inappropriate. So when our grandparents got together with people that didn’t know them, a whole lot of inappropriateness was inevitable, and often hilarious.

At least to us.

Even though my sister and I always did well in school, there was always some teacher or counselor that thought we were getting too close, and needed to find our own identities, or some such crap.

So….

They would bring us in with our parents to discuss the problem, but of course we didn’t think there was a problem. We knew our genealogy was a bit different than most other families, and our family tree had branches that had some very strange things living on them, but we didn’t consider that a problem in the least.

But…..

The school still would insist on occasion that we had to come in to discuss the problem, and since our parents were sick of discussing this non-existing problem, one time our grandparents offered to go with us instead.

My sister and I just looked at each other when we found out our grandparents were going together, to discuss the problem, with the teachers and counselors, because we just knew something was going to happen.

And that something was definitely going to be inappropriate.

So off we went to the school….

With our spooky, sibylline and very snazzy grandma, and giant kraken fighting grandpa, close behind us. And my sister and I both just knew that the school was in for some serious inappropriateness.

Our snazzy grandma looked like a witch, a very lovely witch, but still obviously norn. And our grandpa looked like he could go down to Múspellsheimr, and drag out Surtr by his ears.

An interesting couple.

So….

Our grandparents listened patiently to the experts talk about the problem, until one got to the part where she said that we acted like we were one person. At that point our snazzy grandma quietly replied,

“How did they know we weren’t really one person, with one soul, but with two bodies?”

That comment brought a bit of a awkward silence, but then another expert started going on about how our family should be better role models for us, and then mentioned that the other kids in school thought we were elves.

And…

Our grandma quietly replied,

“What made them think we weren’t elves?”

This made the room go silent, until the headmaster looked at our snazzy grandma, and simply said,

Norn.

There was a bit of a gasp from the teachers, and then silence.

Until…

Our snazzy grandma stood up and looked at the head counselor and said,

“I know what that shadow in the corner of your bedroom really is.”

And then….

Looked at the headmaster and said,

“And I know why you can’t make love to your wife.”

Followed by some very serious, silent, silence.

Until our grandpa suddenly got up and said that he had enough of this horseshit, and that he was going to take the norn home and have some fun, and then get shit-faced drunk.

And then looked at the teachers, counselors, and head master and said,

“How’s that for a role model?”

And as we walked on home, even though we knew the answer, my sister couldn’t resist asking our snazzy grandma why the headmaster couldn’t make love to his wife.

Grandma just kept walking, but told us to be quiet, or she was going to turn both of us into rutabagas. <3 <3

Various Vintage art

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Military Coup Underway in Bolivia

BREAKING NEWS: Military Coup Underway in Bolivia

As of 3:30 PM eastern US time today, June 26, 2024, reports are flooding-in saying a Military Coup d’Etat is taking place to oust President Luis Arce of Bolivia!

Military leader General Juan José Zúñiga reportedly has sent troops into the Presidential Palace to remove President Arce by force of arms.

Developing . . .

Imagery and videos beginning to come in from Bolivia:

coup 3 bolivia
coup 3 bolivia
coup 2 bolivia
coup 2 bolivia
Coup 1 bolivia
Coup 1 bolivia

 

Hal Turner Snap Analysis:

CIA color revolution all over it

Bolivia is one of the rare countries in South America that are trying to fight against the American colonialism and don’t want to be their puppets.

 

UPDATE 5:08 PM EDT —

Bolivian general Juan Jose Zuñiga has PUBLICLY ANNOUNCED that he has seized power after militarily taking over the Presidential Palace in La Paz.

INSIDE THE RETAIL APOCALYPSE! ABANDONED STORE CRISIS!

I was driving to work in a blizzard. there was already 4 inches of snow on the road. I was taking my time and safely following the truck ahead of me trying to keep my wheels in his tracks. I was driving a normal RWD car.

Okay, so far, so good.

A total idiot in a 4WD truck came speeding up behind me. He tried to pass me a couple of times, but almost lost control each time and flicking me the finger. I said to myself “I’m in no mood for this shit”

He tried a final time. I closed on the truck ahead of me and he tried to swerve in between me and the truck in front of me. I sped up a touch to prevent him from getting in (yes, I’m pretty upset at this point).

He tried again, and I changed the game plan. He swerved to get in ahead of me, and I lifted (took my foot off of the gas pedal), and the distance between me and the truck I was following opened.

The dork trying to pass me, hit the gas and lost control. He slid/spun between me and the truck and went straight off the road into a 20 foot ditch. I beeped and waved as I went by and kept going.

Talk about sweet revenge! I never did a thing wrong, I just made it possible for him to “learn a lesson”. When I got to work, the incident was on the radio news because the police closed the northbound lanes of the highway. When I got to work 15 minutes late, I was not docked for the time. I came from my home 80 miles away while most of the staff lived less than 5 miles away and called out. Remember this was during a blizzard! Even though it’s been 30+ years, I still grin when I think about it!

I speak High German reasonably well. As I don’t use it very often anymore, it can take me a few minutes of a conversation, or listening, to get back in the proverbial swing.

I stopped once at one of the road-side Amish food stores in Pennsylvania to scoop up some great chow. There were a bunch of other customers in before me, including some who were dressed pretty outlandishly, and some who were just being asses in general.

The two giggly teenage Amish girls working the counter were going to town, cracking wise about the “English” in their German dialect. It’s hard to follow at times, and uses some real archaic vocabulary, but once you get used to the sentence structure, that includes some pidgin English, it’s fairly clear to the casual German speaker.

I assumed the two Amish girls were a little more worldly by working in the store and interacting with the “English”, and thus were probably a little more less typically Amish in how they acted. And they were teenagers …

At any rate, when I was the last “English” in the store, and was at the counter paying for my pies and bread, I started speaking to them in German, and told them I agreed with their jokes, but that the Good Lord might send someone in from time to time to see how they were conducting business.

I took my change and bags and gave a Witchie-Poo laugh as I watched their faces turn chalk white.

Cat to the Chase

Submitted into Contest #8 in response to: Write a story about an adventure in space. view prompt

Abby Wadlington

Thirteen moons glittered down from the smog-packed sky.  Their silvery light cast ethereal glows across the glass sidewalks and streets.  The purple gas trapped below their feet danced and spun like living creatures.As polluted as Neptune was, still beauty could be found.  Of course, Ace Lowell was too busy to seek out the beauty of his home planet.  He had a job to do.His nineteenth birthday.  This had been the day he had tossed and turned over each night.  This was the day his dream was finally supposed to come true.And, up to a point, everything had worked out exactly as he had imagined.Buy a rundown apartment in downtown Neptune with every last penny in his and Zyla’s pockets.  Check.Turn said apartment in a detective business.  Check.Get his first mystery.  Check.But the whole ‘solve the clues and save the day’ part was still out on recess.  Maybe that part had never been an option at all. Maybe all hopes of fame and fortune he had envisioned for this day had abandoned him the moment he received his first case.In the old detective films Ace used to watch (alone, naturally–his parents were too busy ignoring him), a disaster shook the city.  An unexplained string of robberies. A mysterious disappearance of someone important. A grievous murder. And the detective, clad in his trench coat and sporting a magnifying glass in his hand, always sought out the clues and solved the mystery.  And everybody loved him for it.Well, Ace had the trench coat and the drive to bust crime.  What he lacked, however, was an actual crime.Darkness clung thick to the Neptunian night.  Lamplight glimmered dimly through the streets, illuminating their way.  Hands shoved in his coat pockets, Ace trudged after his partner in anti-crime, Zyla Strange.She was the reason they had been walking around like headless chickens for two hours.  Because when Ace’s first client rushed into their apartment and presented them with the most pointless, ridiculous mystery he never dreamed of asking for, Zyla jumped to the rescue as always.

His first mystery wasn’t a robbery or a kidnapping or a murder.  Instead, a little sniffling boy had waddled up to their door, snot dripping from his nose and tears pouring from his eyes as he explained that his cat had gone missing.

No, the kid didn’t have any money to pay them.  If they wanted payment, though, he’d gladly give them the unwrapped collection of Lifesaver mints collecting dust in his pajama pockets.

Ridiculous.  Utterly ridiculous.

Huffing, Ace caught up to Zyla.  The cold air blasted against his cheeks, tinging his blue skin bluer.  He tugged his coat snugly around himself. Tattooed arms bare and pierced belly button exposed, Zyla just crammed her hands in her sweatpants pockets.  She was the kind of stubborn that would outlast a bull in a headstrong fight.

“A cat,” Ace muttered for the seventeenth time that night.  “I’ve wasted two hours of my life searching for some kid’s damn cat.  Honestly, slap up some missing posters or something! We’re detectives, not pet finders.”

“We’ll be whatever we need to be,” Zyla snapped back, voice sharper than a snakebite.  Her emerald eyes cut through the darkness to glare at him. “So this isn’t your ideal picture of a first mystery.  It’s still a mystery, Ace! And if we can help that poor boy, then we will.”

Ace sighed.  What was her deal?  Ever since he had found her huddled in a Neptunian alleyway two years ago, she had acted like the planet was one big charity case.  If someone tripped, she was there with a wad of bandages. If someone frowned, she went out of her way to brighten their day. If someone so much as sneezed, she made sure to bless them.

Maybe it was a Uranian thing.  Then again, nobody in the universe had ever been on Uranus.  The planet was an impenetrable force the galaxy had been trying to break into for centuries.  How Zyla even left Uranus, she had never said.

Beside him, Zyla drew a sharp gasp.  Ace followed her gaze in time to see a striped gray tail vanish around the corner.

Without a word, Zyla took off, violet cornrow braids flying behind her.  Ace hesitantly followed.

The moment he rounded the corner, he found it.  There, in the shadow of a Starbucks, sat a gray tabby cat.  The feline glanced up at them with intelligent blue eyes. Meeting the creature’s gaze, a shudder passed down Ace’s spine.  The cat seemed strangely human-like.

Zyla turned to him with a cheeky smile.  “See? Not a complete waste of time! We found the cat.  Mystery solved!”

“Great.  Grab the creepy cat and let’s go to bed,” he muttered back.

Instead of reaching for the cat, though, Zyla stooped down and fished into her pockets.  Ace watched her, his foot tapping an impatient rhythm against the glass sidewalk.

Finally, Zyla withdrew a regular fruit bar.  The wrapper crinkled as she wrestled it open.

Ace’s eyebrows shot up to his pale hairline.  “You’re gonna feed it?”

“It’s rude to just grab the cat,” Zyla protested.  “What if it’s unfriendly and bites me?”

“Then you can blast it with your Uranian superpowers and turn it to kitty litter.  Who knows? Maybe the kid will still give us his nasty mints.”

She ignored him as she broke off the corner of the fruit bar.  Cooing at the creature, Zyla held out her offering under the cat’s nose.

The cat blinked.  Then, with unnatural speed, it swallowed the fruity piece in one lightning-fast gulp.  Ace and Zyla froze, staring at it.

Around them, the wind turned harsh, whistling across the cityscape.  Energy crackled through the air.

Ace felt the hairs at the nape of his neck bristle.  “What the hell–”

With a crack of thunder, reality cleaved in two.  A gaping hole alight with thousands of swirling, vibrant hues opened beneath his feet.  The yelp that rose to his mouth got sucked into oblivion with the rest of him.

The fall lasted both a millisecond and an eternity.  Ears popping, heart hammering, head spinning, Ace spiraled downward through the darkness.  He squeezed his eyes shut, biting back a scream.

After both a millisecond and an eternity, the ground rushed up to catch him.  Ace landed on both feet into soft crimson sand.

Wait, sand?

He looked around and discovered another world.  Red sand shifted and pooled across the ground. A light breeze plucked sandy grains from the floor and whisked them off into the night sky.  Above him hung two moons; they stared down like a pair of wide silver eyes.

Laughter poured all around him from dozens of old-fashioned wooden buildings hugging the narrow street.  The scent of whiskey hit his nostrils as a light-skinned man stumbled out a set of swinging barn doors.

Fingers curled tightly around his forearm.  Ace glanced over to find a pale-faced Zyla gawking at the horizon.  “Ace, we’re not on Neptune anymore.”

Ace took a deep breath.  His lungs stung with the cleanliness of the air.  He gulped another breath, intoxicated with the feeling.  Never had Neptune’s air been this clean. His planet’s atmosphere was all smoke and smog and ash.  And while Neptunians didn’t need oxygen to breathe, Ace had always secretly wondered what clean air tasted like.

In all his nineteen years of living, Ace had never set foot off Neptune.  He never had enough money to take a vacation from his home planet, and his parents could care less about showing their son the Milky Way.  With thirteen older sisters, it felt like Ace wasn’t even there. His parents didn’t have the time to notice him. With an earth-shattering mystery, he had hoped to change all of that and finally snatch their affection.

Instead, he had found a cat.  A snack-stealing, planet-hopping cat.

“Mars,” he whispered.  “We’re on Mars.”

“So cool,” Zyla breathed back.  After a second, though, she shook her head.  “We’ve got a job to do. We can’t get distracted.”

“Zyla, the cat made a freaking portal that took us to Mars.  How can we not get distracted?”

He glanced down, searching for the unusual feline.  At his feet, however, he found only sand. Ace’s heart leapt into his throat.  If the cat’s the reason why we teleported…and we don’t have the cat…we’ll be stuck here.

Frankly, it wasn’t the worst fate they could suffer.  It wasn’t like anyone on Neptune would notice their disappearance anyway.  But from what he had read about Mars, the planet was a war-torn catastrophe waiting to happen.  He wasn’t exactly cut out for fighting.

“We need to find the cat,” he said slowly, pulse pounding in his ears.

Zyla’s lips crinkled in a smirk.  “Oh, now he wants to find the cat.  Still wishing we had gotten a more interesting first mystery?”

He skillfully ignored her.  “Can you use your powers to find it?”

“You’re kidding, right?”  Zyla held out her hands. For a second, green light sparked between her fingers.  She tucked her hands back into her pockets, frowning. “My power is to blast things, not find things.”

“Fine.  Let’s start looking then.  If that cat teleports again and doesn’t take us with it, we’re screwed.”

They took off through the streets, sand kicking up in plumes behind them.  As the buildings blurred around him and the wind howled in his ears, Ace felt the tension seeping from his body.  Running wild and free, he had never felt more alive. Like he had lived his entire life on Neptune with his eyes closed, and had just stumbled back into the light to find a brand new world awaiting exploration.

Zyla turned left down an alleyway, Ace nipping at her heels.  When she stopped suddenly in front of him, Ace nearly pitched face-first into the sand with the effort of not slamming into her back.

He peered around her shoulder.  At the end of the alleyway sat the gray tabby cat.  At its paws sprawled a single slab of sand-caked cheddar cheese.

Ace’s shoulders tensed again.  “Didn’t the portal that got us here first open because that thing ate your fruit bar?”

“Yep,” Zyla whispered back, dread weighing her voice.

“Think that if it eats something else, we’ll get sucked into another portal?”

“Most likely.”

The cat darted forward, snagging the corner of the cheese between its teeth.  Reality split open again under their feet.

Mercury, Venus, Saturn, Earth, even Pluto.  They went everywhere in the span of an hour, introduced into another culture every other minute.  Each time they caught up to the cat, it would find a piece of food and take a bite, opening another portal that swallowed them into another world.  It was like a twisted birthday present for Ace–a free explore-the-galaxy pass through the Milky Way.

Roughly fifteen portals later, the familiar glassy floor appeared beneath Ace’s feet once more.  They popped up in the shadow of a Neptunian Starbucks–the exact point they had disappeared from.  The thirteen moons shone down on him again. He breathed in a lungful of smoggy air.

It was as if they had never left at all.  Not a single aspect around them had changed.  Looking around, though, Ace saw things in a new light.  His heart felt lighter, less shackled by worry. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Before the cat could stalk away in search of more food, Zyla swept forward and scooped the feline into her arms.  It wriggled and squirmed before finally relenting to her strong grip. She glanced down at it in a mix of anger and awe.

“I am not doing that again,” she muttered.  When she looked up at Ace, though, a smile crossed her features.  “Still sleepy? We could still squeeze in a few winks before we return the cat.”

Ace snorted.  The trip around the universe hummed through his veins like a gallon’s worth of coffee.

They began walking down the street in the direction of their apartment.  As they pushed on, Ace studied every shining edge of every skyscraper reaching up to Neptune’s night sky.  For the first time in years, it took his breath away. Why had he taken Neptune for granted this whole time?  He had been so blinded by his own ambitions of making a name for himself that he had forgotten to enjoy the world around him.

Halfway across the street, Ace stopped.  “The cat’s Uranian, isn’t it?”

Zyla paused.  In her grip, the cat reached out and batted her jaw.  She cocked her head at Ace. “Duh. It can make portals by eating, genius.  It’s not some regular house cat.”

“Shouldn’t we return it to Uranus, then?  I know it’s technically that kid’s cat, but wouldn’t the cat be happier where it’s from?”

He had always imagined Uranus as a secret paradise, a haven no outsider could ever enter.  In truth, no one knew anything about the planet. No one had ever been on it–no one except the girl and the cat in front of him.

Zyla smiled sadly.  “That’s not how it works.  Once you leave Uranus, you can’t go back.  There’s only two ways off the planet–either teleportation like this little guy probably did, or banishment.”

Ace froze.  Banishment?  

He stared at Zyla’s back as she started away.  The question he had asked ever since he first met her rose again to his lips.  “Why did you leave?”

Silence.  Like every time before, he expected the silence to ring on and on, echoing with a thousand possibilities.  Finally, though, her soft voice spliced through the night.

“That, Ace Lowell,” Zyla said, casting him the same sad smile, “is a mystery for another time.  Now come on. Let’s go save the day.”

He watched her walk away, a Uranian girl with a Uranian cat.  And gradually, when his senses pieced themselves back together again, Ace trailed after her.

Nothing about his nineteenth birthday that day had been the picturesque moment he had imagined since childhood.  His name was no closer to shining in lights. For all he knew, he could forever remain another nameless face in this vast universe.

But something about chasing that damn cat across the Milky Way had changed him.  Something about all the excitement and wonder and beauty he had experienced while racing through the galaxy resounded through his bones.  Maybe he’d never find the fame and fortune he had always wanted, or the recognition he had thought would bring him happiness.

But, step by step, he could still make a difference.  Maybe Zyla had been right all along in her passion to help others, no matter the cost.

Ace could already imagine the grin on that little boy’s face when they returned his annoying cat.  And personally, he wouldn’t trade the image of that smile for all the fame in the galaxy.

Maybe not the funniest ever but this one really cracks me up.

I get cold easily. Whenever I can get away with it, you will see me wearing a fleece-lined beanie. I own roughly a million and a half of those. But, unfortunately, I have to take them off when I go see my patients. Most of my patients are old. And many of them also get cold easily, what with all the adipose tissue they’ve lost over the decades.

This is the case for one of my current ladies. She’s in her mid 80s, and the first time I saw her, she was bundled up under a thousand and one blankets. So I shared with her that I get cold too.

“I blame it on being African.”

She chuckled.

And that was the end of the story, I thought.

There are many side effects to being old, apart from the aforementioned impaired thermoregulation: high blood pressure, lower bone density leading to a loss of height and a higher susceptibility to fractures, hair loss, impaired balance, reduced visual acuity, higher rate of cancers of all sort, arthritis, loss of bowel and bladder control, etc. Basically, getting old is a really bad idea.

But one of the side effects that is amusing for those of us who have a twisted sense of humor is that people lose their filter.

“Mister Africaaaaaah!” She shouted this the second time she saw me in her room.

I was laughing so hard, I almost collapsed on her bed.

Did she really just say that?

She had. Now she does it every time she sees me. She said it again when I popped in on her yesterday during her speech therapy session. I told her that next time I would come in a loin cloth and a spear.

Earlier today, she told me she hadn’t slept well. I told her that maybe she needed someone to tuck her in and give her a hug or something.

“Or something…” she said, suggestively.

She just passed me in the hall about a half hour ago. I was chatting with the nurses and not paying attention to the faint sound of the wheelchair coming from behind.

“There’s Misteeeeeer Africaaaaaah. Hahaha!”

The nurses did a double take, then everybody was cracking up.

“I’m going to start calling you that,” said the youngest nurse.

I tried to make a face at her but my surgical mask covered half of it. She’s too young to get away with that. Only people who have the plausible deniability of senility get to call me Mister Africa.

This Killed All But 1,000 Humans 900,000 Years Ago

For a number of years I worked with elderly people who I helped them get their financial affairs in order. It was a very rewarding job because I enjoyed talking to them. I wanted them to know that they were going to be okay as their health deteriorated. Money makes people do terrible things and I had seen it ALL!! So I still had young high net worth clients but the elderly were just more enjoyable and appreciated all the effort.

My collegeues always said ““old people just love you….I don’t understand it?” I thought it was easy to understand. I appeared to be a straight laced young man who would sit and listen to them for hours. I was respectful and did everything for them as I would want done for my grandmothers or mom. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents and great uncles who helped raise me. They taught me a lot about myself and had an undying belief that I was going to go great things. That kind of faith helped me thru some very difficult times.

So to many of these elderly people I became a grandson type and looked out for them because they couldn’t do it for themselves. One of my clients was a WW2 ace who I discovered accidentally when watching a history channel show about his life. I could have listened to him for days.

When you deal with people’s money especially when they have children there is a paranoia that can create a difficult situation. What most heirs learned was that I was focused on their parents or grandparents living the life they wanted and then keeping their inheritance out of the government hands. Some objected to the way the money came to them but most often it was a lack of their understanding.

One day I was called to meet a new client that was living in terrible conditions. He had a substantial amount of money but typical in a child of the Great Depression was worried it was going to run out. Although he was admittedly different I didn’t know why in the beginning. Because he was doing odd things like dumpster diving at 83 and he wore an old electrical cord as a belt. He seemed oblivious to his own odor and lack of proper hygiene. The biggest issue was that he wasn’t caring for his home and one rather negative neighbor who had an ulterior motive called the police on him.

Most people don’t know that in many states a neighbors complaints about your lawn not being cared for or your home in disrepair can be the first steps to making you a ward of the state. Where I worked it happened often and it NEVER benefitted the individual or their heirs.

So luckily I was friends with a number of people in this neighborhood and his meals on wheels volunteer who introduced me to this man. His house was going to be condemned, and it was a real death trap. He was a hoarder and the outside of the house was terrible but inside was worse. The issue was that the land was worth a fortune.

If you had seen him you would have thought he was homeless and impoverished. He was very friendly but there was clearly an event that triggered his situation. Some of his caring neighbors tried to look out for him but it was too much. He did have a daughter but had not spoken with her for 30 years.

In order to help him I needed to get my hands on any documents he had. I drove to his house and was prepared to search through everything but the smell was so bad I could not be there for more than 30 minutes. In his state no honest attorney would work with him. He said he had a will and I needed to locate it. The next day he calls me and we meet in his bank. He is pushing a shopping cart full of documents which he gives me and then he went about his day.

I loaded my car with his papers which smelled terrible and spent the next 2 days going through them. It was after going thru the papers that I found his daughters name and general location. But I also found that he had had 2 daughters. I found an old will that referenced the 2 daughters and his wife.

When I found a death certificate I assumed it was his wife’s but I was wrong. It showed one of his daughters had been murdered. Below the death certificate was a few newspaper clippings that gave details of the incident. As I read thru them I was horrified and wanted to put them all down. As I was piecing the situation together I realized that his daughter was married to a long haul truck driver. THey were separated and one night her husband came to her fathers house while he and his wife were out. He killed her and left. When he and his wife returned home they found her body and blood was everywhere. His wife had a heart attack at the sight of the daughter and died at the hospital a few days later.

The daughters husband was picked up 5–7 days after a few states away. He plead guilty and was sentenced to life in prison. As a parent I couldn’t imagine losing a child but losing a child to murder just brought tears to my eyes.

Below the newspaper articles was a letter he wrote to his surviving daughter. I tried to be respectful in reading only what is necessary but it was impossible. I learned the deceased daughter had a son who was now living with his other daughter. For those of you who feel like I violated his trust please understand that my recommendations cannot be made without knowing all heirs, ages, relationship and situation. For this man I was going to have to get him access to a long term care home and at his state it would require some explanations.

His letter seemed to explain his struggle with what he needed to do to deal with the situation. He was a religious man and was being counseled to forgive his son in law but he couldn’t. His life changed that day and he didn’t know how to deal with it. Apparently he had encouraged his daughter to give the marriage a chance and seek counseling but his wife disagreed. He felt responsible for the outcome and it changed him so much that he seemed to be a different person to his surviving daughter. He lost his wife and daughter in that and his other daughter and grandson after. It was devastating just knowing what he had been through and I wanted to try and help him in any way I could.

He died 3 years after we met but his last 3 years were really different. He went to a very nice retirement community where his diet was controlled and helped him get healthy. He had excellent medical care and reunited with his daughter and grandson a year after we met. He was so thankful for the reunion and the relationship that he spent a lot of time with them both. He also got to meet his great granddaughter 6 months before he passed away. He wrote me a very nice note of thanks that I still have today.

When he passed away he was able to provide enough money that his daughter got to retire, his grandson got a house and his great granddaughter could go to any college she wanted. The funeral was bittersweet.

My daughter had one of these, that worked out well. She was a psychiatric nurse, working on the Crisis Team, but hoping to be able to work in the Perinatal area. Unfortunately, there was no peri natal service in that area.

One day, she happened to be in the office in the hospital. A man came in, and said “ Look, my daughter needs an inpatient mental health bed now.”

She said “ You could be right, sir, but I have just had a patient admitted to the last available one. We’ll do what we can until another becomes available”.

He said “ Do you know who I am?” She said she had no idea. He told her her was a senior politician, in the Cabinet. ( I will not name him, as he was a good constituency MP.)

She told him that, if the mental health services were not so underfunded, she probably could have helped his daughter faster. She said “ This is the sharp end of the funding decisions you make in Cabinet.” and gave him the phone number of the local private clinic. He went away, crossly.

BUT, a few weeks later she was phoned by the head of Mental Health for her county, and told that more money had been released to set up a peri natal service, and they wanted her to set it up and run it. Which is what she did. I don’t think it was coincidence that money was suddenly available. Whether or not he said “ And I want that bolshie woman who cared enough about her patients to take me to task to run it,” we don’t know. This was some years ago now, and I admire him for doing something about it.

Sesame Noodles with Thai Peanut Sauce

thaipeanutnoodles6 1022x1536
thaipeanutnoodles6 1022×1536

Thai Peanut Sesame Noodles

I love anything chinese and thai food and that is apparent on my blog. When people ask me what my favorite recipes are on the blog, it is definitely the better than take out chinese recipes. These are recipes that I make over and over again. And when you repeat recipes as a food blogger, you know that they are good.

This Thai peanut sesame noodle recipe is just it! It is light, fresh and so much flavor. I can’t get enough to it. I love the flavor combination with the sesame noodles and Thai peanut sauce. It is simple to make and only takes minutes to prepare and cook. This is perfect for a quick dinner in on a busy week night.

I couldn’t believe how amazing these noodles turned out. I devoured them! So simple and so flavorful! The combination of the flavors in the sauce coated the noodles and gave this dish such an awesome taste. My picky eater even gobbled them down and asked for seconds. This is such a simple meal that our family will be making again and again. We might try adding beef or chicken next time too!

Ingredients

  • 1 pound vermicelli or thin spaghetti
  • 3 tablespoons dark sesame oil
  • 3 cloves garlic
  • 4 green onions, cut in 1/2-inch pieces
  • 1 (1 inch) piece ginger root, pared and quartered
  • 1/3 cup peanut butter (plain or chunky)
  • 1/4 cup soy sauce
  • 1/4 cup tap water or chicken broth
  • 1 tablespoon rice or white vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
  • 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
  • 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper
thaipeanutnoodles4
thaipeanutnoodles4

Instructions

  1. Cook spaghetti as directed; drain and rinse with cold water.
  2. Toss with 2 tablespoons sesame oil (this dish can be served cold or hot). If you want to serve as a hot dish, do not rinse with cold water; just drain.
  3. In a food processor, finely chop garlic, green onions and ginger.
  4. Add remaining sesame oil and all ingredients. Process until thoroughly mixed.
  5. Top each serving of vermicelli or spaghetti with amount of desired sauce.

Right now the only predator capable of handling feral hogs is man. And he’s an idiot if he tries it alone.

Any other predator capable of defeating the ferocity and tusks of a feral hog would be so big as to threaten man, too. Given the hogs travel in sounders, you will have a pack of tuskers attacking the generally lone predator. Good luck.

Typically hogs are trapped and then killed. If out hunting, the hogs don’t come out until the wee hours. So you need night vision. They will spook at the sound of an approaching vehicle. So you have to either be in place around dusk, and downwind of the track they’ll take, or plan on making long range shots from a well traveled road (so single car noises don’t sound dangerous).

If you hunt, you’d better have 5–6 shooters as you’ll only get 2–3 shots off before the herd scatters. That many shooters will also be a deterrent to the hogs turning on you. If alone, you can expect the hogs to attack you, and whatever thing you’re in. Don’t expect that the sides of a pickup will stop a 200-lb male from jumping in with you. Their tusks are lethal, and they’ll just eat you when you’re dead.

Typically a good trap will haul in 3–4 hogs. A sounder of them might run 30 or 40. So you need to trap a lot at once. They already know what traps look like, so avoid them. They are definitely smart critters. You need to kill off the females, as they will breed 2 times a year and pop out a fair number of piglets each time. A sounder of 4–5 males, 15 females, and the rest piglets … you can do the math.

I read of one trap where heavy horse panels were fastened together in a large circle, and the remotely-dropped gate was left open. Feed was put out. Over several nights the hogs more and more would trust the corral, and go in. Finally several nights in, the cameras indicated most all of the sounder, particularly the females were inside, and the gate was dropped. They went nuts, but the panels held. Later in the daylight the ranchers came out and shot the bunch of them. The meat is very lean, and properly prepared can feed a lot of homeless.

By trapping the entire sounder, you remove the acquired intelligence of the herd.

Let the hogs run wild, and they will destroy a field. They root for grubs, and will turn over a planted field into useless vegetation in a single night. I have a small pasture that looks like 150 small land mines went off in it. Every time it rains I can expect the hogs out in a night or two to shred the pasture again. If I were trying to grow a cash crop, I’d be much more interested in eradicating them all. Just ask this guy:

main qimg aa4cb2ff79c724a08798b68ce0e28f64 pjlq
main qimg aa4cb2ff79c724a08798b68ce0e28f64 pjlq

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MerLynn

Pigs are bad in Australia too.We never had much of a problem til about 10 years ago. Now we take the 4 wheel buggy and we can get the whole litter with a shotgun. The bigger ones we get with Thermal scopes.We got 2 families this year. Other years just adults. Its getting out of hand. They do terrible damage to the irrigations dams and channels not to mention the crop damage a momma pig with 10 piglets can do each night. So hard to get trusty people to help. Robbery’s are on the increase too.The worst is the kids are sick. Ambo’s tired of cpr on dead kids. Still a good pig hunt is hard to come by… Never know when they show up. They travel the creeks and exit if there’s something to rut in.

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