You Promised Me!

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Evidently the President believes two things:

1.) The Sequester invented by Obama and signed into law by him supersedes the Mayan Calendar

2.) The Pope’s retirement shifts the papal privilege to speak infallibly to him.

President Obama’s refusal to follow the Constitution which deliberately set up three equal branches of government had him flying around the country at the mere cost of 175,000 dollars per hour to convince us, the American sheeple, that he didn’t invent the sequester and that if we don’t get him out of this jam it is  the end of the liberal give aways. The truth is the Sequester cuts are so small that the government spills that much liquor and food at the White House parties every month.

The President should have vetoed the bill, instead he signed it into law. The fact that Congress chooses not to write a new law to drop the Sequester is within their the power, and they are  renouncing the President’s feverish and greedy money grab. In this case, doing nothing is exactly the right thing to do. As Obama has told us repeatedly, “elections have consequences” he is learning that stupid moves by a president also have consequences. Long live the Sequester.

I’m getting on my knees to say my act of contrition tonight since the Sequester goes into effect at midnight, and America will end because Obama spoke infallibly when he said that.

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Finally, the guy who brought down Nixon with the Watergate scandal is touching a nerve on an even bigger scandal.

The Obama Hustle

Bob Woodward Philly Author Event (12/10/12)

By Brett LoGiurato for Business Insider

Bob Woodward said this evening on CNN  that a “very senior person” at the White House warned him in an email that he  would “regret doing this,” the same day he has continued to slam President Barack Obama over the looming forced cuts known  as the sequester.

 

CNN host Wolf  Blitzer said that the network invited a White House official to debate  Woodward on-air, but the White House declined.

“It makes me very uncomfortable to have the White House telling  reporters, ‘You’re going to regret doing something that you believe in,'”  Woodward said.

“I think they’re confused,” Woodward said of the White House’s pushback on  his reporting.

Earlier today on MSNBC’s “Morning Joe,” Woodward ripped into Obama  in what has become an ongoing feud between the veteran Washington  Post journalist and the White House. Woodward said Obama was showing  a…

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Why Democrats Will Keep Winning ELections

Wild Bill tells us the way it is. I experienced exactly what he is talking about within my Tea Party group.

Conservatives must work to create a unity that will be an unstoppable force.

I love stories about the old west. This one is especially good.

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Chapter 1

Thomas Jessop was wondering if he had just made a mistake.  Without moving his head he lifted his questioning eyes from the government surveyor’s map up to those of the Land Office clerk.

“Uh…” He stammered, “I just noticed that a lot of the creeks and rivers around where we bought our land have some mighty dismal names to ‘em. Should I be concerned?”

The clerk removed a pair of spectacles from his upper vest pocket and after blowing on the lenses and fitting them on, leaned over the long table to study the map.

After a minute or two the clerk straightened up and shrugging his shoulders told the young couple, “I’m not real familiar with the western territory but since there’s a town nearby, I am led to conclude that whoever named the water sources either had a sense of humor or quite possibly named them…

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THE BIG FIX IS IN.

Read the Fine Print

Today I did not get my way. There were three things on my agenda: Take a walk, write a chapter, and begin compiling tax records.

The day was sunny and bright, but a chilly forty-five degrees this morning. In my old age I am becoming a wimp. I figured I could delay the walk until it got a bit warmer. Then I noticed Peggy fixated on a credit card bill.  She does that at times when she is in a quandary about something. I cleaned junk mail from my phone and searched the internet for a recipe to use for the chicken breast that I defrosted yesterday. I have Food Network as a book mark so it didn’t take long to find a hundred recipes for Chicken Parmesan. I went to Gianna’s first, and decided it took too long to make and classed as expert. Then I searched for Emiril. He kicked up his recipe too much for me, so I looked for the words, easy, simple, and short. I found a recipe by the Food Network Kitchens that fit the bill for easy and short. The next thing was to see how many of the ingredients I had on hand. Rats. I needed seven items ranging from spices, herbs, cheeses, vinegar, bread crumbs, to crushed tomatoes.

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Peggy came to me with the document  she studied so hard.

“How can I cancel this credit card account?” I scoured the fine print and decided a letter was in order. She balked at that.

“Couldn’t we just go to Bank of America and cancel this thing out.”

“I don’t know, I never cancelled a credit card before.”

Her fixation now changed course and she prepped for the trip. In the meantime, I longed to prep for a walk.

“I’m ready, but I’m wearing a sweater it still too cold for me.”

That was the beginning of the end. We sat and waited forty-five minutes at BOA to see a personal banker who completed the cancellation in less than a minute.

The next stop was to get the things I needed for the Parmesan.

“Let’s go straight to the fresh produce section so I can get the fresh basil first.” I scoured a forty-foot long aisle of every conceivable kind of vegetable and greenery one could imagine but did not see basil.  Thank goodness there was a forty-ish something chubby guy stocking a shelf at the end. I asked him if they had fresh basil.

“Sure,” he walked me right to where it should have been, except there was none there.

“I’ll go see if there is any stocked in the back, wait here.”

We circled the banana pile for a few minutes while we waited. He came running back all out of breath.

“Sorry, but I had to chase the manager down, we expect to have some tomorrow.”

“I’m buying this for this evenings meal.” The manager arrived to save the day.

“We have some dehydrated basil that is as good as the fresh stuff.” He darted to the onion kiosk and reached under the pile of yellow onions to find a bottle of dehydrated basil. I’m sure he was the only one in that store that knew they had bottled herbs and just where they stocked them.

Peggy and I ran around the rest of the store searching out the remaining items on the list. We passed through the bakery department, and I noticed Peg missing. I turned to see her coming toward me carrying a Lemon Cream pie. “Can I have this,” she asked?

“Of course, it’ll go good with the chicken parmesan.”

Next, I passed the wine department. “I need a reward for doing all this cooking,” I told Peg.

“Yes you do.”

I selected the wine with care, making sure it fit my criterion of costing less than six dollars a bottle.

Finally, we made it to the checkout. There were long lines at each register, so I dove right for the “Limit fifteen items” and beat out a silver-haired lady who gave me an evil stare. We waited behind four others. Peg stared at the tabloids as we waited, and finally put one into our basket.

“Well, you got your wine,” she said. I must have given here a disapproving look without realizing it.

We arrived home at 3:30 p.m. It was time to begin preparing the chicken parmesan.

I never made parmesan before, so I kept reading and re-reading the recipe to make sure I was getting everything right. The pots, pans, serving dishes, and pantry all banged in noisy preparation, and an occasional “oh shit.”

“What oh shit.” Peg asked?

“Nothing, I just bumped the bowl with egg whites and slopped it all over the countertop.”

It all came together and I served at five-thirty. The last move was to uncork the wine bottle and pour some Cabernet into the bell-shaped wine glass. I so looked forward to that first taste of wine and the chicken.

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“Ugh! this wine is the worst stuff I’ve ever had. Look it even has bubbles around the rim of the glass. The Winking Owl is superior compared to this stuff. On a scale of zero to one hundred this stuff comes in at a two.”

While we were cleaning up, I took a good look at the label to memorize the winery so I never, ever buy this stuff again. The label clearly stated Cabernet Sauvignon, but under that in smaller print it says “Premium Dealcoholized Wine. Contains less than one half of one percent alcohol by volume.”

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“No wonder this tasted like crap,” I exclaimed to peg.

“Why,” she asked.

“This stuff is grape juice.”

With that, she began a hearty a hearty laugh that she could not stop.

The chicken parmesan turned out perfect.

The View From The Kitchen Table

Nothing beats a February sunset. No matter which state you live in Mother Earth is awakening. She begins to show us her magnificent beauty. She seems to say, winter is nearing its end and I’m anxious to begin sprouting miracles from every nook and cranny I can find.

February days are a tad longer than grey dreary November and December, and those extra minutes seem all it takes to show us some color, especially if there are some low clouds hanging about.

This evening as Peggy and I mopped up the last drips of Marsala gravy from our plates this view appeared. It was our dessert.

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