How miserable can it get?

Rick Perry for president. Hey. If we can have a president named Barack , why not Rick? Indeed! Why not? The way Crumby espies it, though the western 2/3rds of the Booblico duh Tejas is verging on uninhabitable today, things can get even more miserable tomorrow. But having Rick as president would at least get him out of Austink once in a while. And that might, in turn, help with the local weather. Because Rick is one of the multitudes of Mammonite super gluttons or polluters making Austink hotter by the hour.

How hot is it? Too hot fer man er beast. Mercy! There was no growing season in Travis County this year. Please send food. Please send water. Please take Rick to Washington.

Karma

Seems like Crumby is enjoying the company of mds more recently than previously. But it's like Crumby predicted when he had his nose fixed. Once those doctors get you they never let you go, except to the undertaker once they have wrung you or insurance dry. Not that the nose didn't require fixing and not that the reamed out nose or associated nasal cavities didn't help Crumby. They did. But nevertheless, seems like now that Crumby gave in to those doctors once, they have him by the shorthairs for this mortal coil. Mercy!

But it could be worse. Karl the Tracker Druid was telling Ray about Jesus. Then, because Ray is Crumby's bosom companion, Ray also told Crumby about Jesus.

Anyway, Karl hired Jesus to trim some tree branches that were occluding the view of the street afforded by the Tracker office picture window when the herbs were not so dang big. Jesus got the job with a low bid.

It was only later that Karl found out Jesus' tree trimming kit was a machete and twain bungee cords. So later, Karl had to take Jesus to the emergency hospital. The trouble was, Jesus had smacked himself in the noggin with his machete. The result of this particular accident was a partial sagital section.

Jesus and Karl had to wait a while at the emergency hospital before they could see a doctor. Which was good. Because that provided time for Karl togradually work the machete out form Jesus' noggin. That was the good news. The bad news was, once the machete got eased out, there was some minor bleeding and brain ooze. But then that turned out to be good news too, because an orderly espied Jesus and started hollering, I aint fixin' to clean that up. Which eventually got the attention of an actual doctor.

Karl was pretty sure the doctor would be seriously impressed when he examined Jesus's head, split down the middle from crown to ear. But no. F*** that. Doctors, no matter what their specialties or lack thereof, are not easily impressed. Except by drug pushers. And in keeping with that tradition, the emergency room doctor's only prognosis or opinion was, Could be worse, could be cancer.

Crackers fer Crackers

It was terrible. Crumby nearly ran out of Sunshine Krispy Crackers. There Crumby was, fixing to run out. I better ride the Blade (Crumby’s red bicycle) up to the HEB and get some more saltines.

Three times Crumby made that long yet arduous and stinky ride. Yes. It’s stinky on Brodie. Stinky with exhaust fumes. Yet those were also fruitless or crackerless rides. No crackers were to be had at that miserable, understocked HEB.

Finally though, today, in the midst of the fourth cracker ride, Crumby was able to purchase three boxes of Sunshine Krispy Crackers from that sorry HEB.

But what about the millions of old white people practically living on Sunshine Krispy Crackers? How did they fare during the great cracker outage of August 2011? No one knows. But maybe they suffered plenty while fixing to gum their soup, sans delicious Krispy Crackers. How about that possibility?

Therefore, Crumby has decided that somebody needs to start up a new door-to-door service providing crackers fer crackers. That’s right. Old crackers should get their crackers delivered, eliminating the need to go to the store. Also, Crackers fer Crackers should have like a warehouse featuring just Sunshine Krispy Crackers. That way, the liberals can just go to the warehouse, pick up the always handy crackers, then deliver those particular crackers to the needy old crackers. Mmm! Cruch-crunch.


How about this though? Does anyone feel like other races of old people besides crackers should be included in Crackers fer Crackers. Like maybe Crackers fer Crackers should be a rainbow coalition type giveaway.

Ooops. Crumby forgot. Socialism can only be for crackers in these parts. Crackers fer crackers. Ha-ha-ha-ha!

Goldfaunch

Goldfaunch is what Crumby calls your goldfinch, both the lesser and Americano. In these parts, lessers are year round residents while the Americanos show up in the cooler seasons.

Lesser goldfaunches interest Crumby because of their many vocalizations. Also, they are cute little birds, the males, especially.

For many moons Crumby has been fixing to get some photos of a lesser or two. However, he can never get close enough even with the Canon 400mm on a 1.6x crop. That's because your lesser is a nervous little bird, easily spooked.

So Crumby figured, I shall commence feeding them. That way I am apt to sneak up closer for picture taking while they are occupied at their feed.

The pet store features goldfaunch socks that are filled with "Nyjer" seed. Whatever that is. Goddess help Crumby, for Nyjer seed probably grows up into an invasive weed. But whatever!

Anyway, the box the Nyjer seed socks come in features an illustration with plenty of faunchers on the sock happily crunching on the tiny Nyjer or thistle seeds. That's what I want to espy, thought Crumby, gullibly swallowing the propaganda or advertising.

Yet the faunchers have eventually turned up at their seed sock. It took a few weeks, but now a couple of them, these juveniles, come most days. However, they are still nervous, flying off if Crumby gets anywhere near the sock. Nasty little ingrates.

Check out the bokeh. Mercy! The bokeh with the 400mm can be purty dang harsh. But never mind that. Check out the background colors. That'w what 50+ days without rain shall and 100 degree temperatures can do ye fer. Yes. The WG has abandoned these parts because the balance of the people are too wicked to deserve any cool, refreshing rain. Mercy!

Mammalia; Their Various Antics

Crumby is, of course, a mammal. A bicycle riding mammal. Despite riding a bicycle, Crumby is too damn fat. So Crumby decided to ride the bicycle more, to get rid of the fat. Maybe that will work, unless I drink more beer to compensate for the extra exercise. Then I shall have to ride my bike even more, drink more beer, ride more, drink more beer. Mercy! What a rat race!

Anyway. So Crumby rode his bike all the way up Brodie to William Cannon. Then he turned left on to the south William Cannon sidewalk, headed east. Goodness. Crumby soon encountered a monstrous hill. Anon, he was out of the saddle, huffing and puffing. Yet Crumby made it to the top of that merciless hill. Jeez Louise!

At the top of the hill Crumby dismounted because two official bicyclists, resplendent in helmets and outfits were headed west on Crumby's sidewalk and Crumby figured, fer Heaven's sakes, we might collide. But the second official cyclist remarked, What gear is that?

Yes. Alas. Crumby's bike is a unigear bike.

It took Crumby a while to recover from that hill. He had to have a drink of cool clear water and blow for a minute or two. But then he was off again, headed east.

Man alive! Did you know that it's practically entirely down hill from Deeton Hill to Jones Road headed north. An average cyclist like Crumby hardly has to pedal along that route. Just coast. So when Crumby arrived back on his usual routes, he needed to ride more to get in his usual hour ride because the Deeton Hill to Jones Road component had been too easy. So there Crumby was riding alone in Stinky Valley, when suddenly a gray fox raced across tbe street right in front of Crumby. It was toting a hispid cotton rat in its mouth.

Then this morning on the dog walk, early, a raccoon was espied running about in broad daylight. Also, the sunflower seed feeder which got filled up yesterday was entirely empty this morning. Some dang or dern mammal got those seeds. How? Nobody knows yet.

Rats are drinking out of the outside pet water bowl in broad daylight. Goodness! Signs and portents. How evil can these parts wax before the end? Nobody knows.

Insects are Few and Far Between

These parts are parched. Which means much to many, but especially that insect photo ops have dried up along with the dern creeks or dang stock tanks. With paltry to no insects abounding, Crumby has had plenty of time with little to do for entertainment. Therefore, yesterday took a happy turn as Crumby espied this little demon fixing to get sucked up by the vacuum cleaner or Hoover.

Hark! Get away from that vacuum cleaner if you know what’s good, fer ye. Crumby instructed the tiny vermin. Then once the little devil or tiny vermin was safe away from the vacuum cleaner, Crumby coaxed it into his St. Louis Cardinals shot glass. There now. You shall get your picture took while you are in this shot glass.


The animal or organism thus depicted confused Crumby for a time. Yes. Crumby could only identify this thing to phyla, that being Arthropoda. Yet as Crumby increased the magnification, there those eyes or peepers were, jumping spider eyes. You may have heard the song, She’s got jumping spider eyes?

Turns out this is a diminutive, 5-6mm long, example of Metacyrba floridana. But why does it seem to mimic a scorpion type animal? Gracious sakes!

A Druid Sermonette: Why God Hates Evil Doers

Many have heard tell that God loves sinners but hates sins. But like most of what an average person generally hears, that lie was concocted by evil doers to make themselves and other evil doers feel better or have a better self-image. Yet God never participates when it comes to loving sinners. No sir. God hates those sinners. And with good reason.

Many have also heard tell that God sent his only begotten son, Jesus (Heysoos) down to earth. Then what happens.? Well. You know the story. Practically everyone knows the story. Evil doers set upon Heysoos and killed him. Not only did they kill him, they tortured him first, too. Yes. They killed God’s bastard son, plus tortured him first. Thus providing God with yet more in a long list of reasons why he hates you. He hates your miserable guts, all righty!

Then, almost immediately, or in just a few days, as soon as Jesus gets resuscitated or heads off to India, Paul, also known as Saul, and Peter, also known as a Mounds brother, substitute Pauline Transcendentalism for the simple-minded humanism of Heysoos. Now whoa! Not only is Heysoos dead or resuscitated, his story, which God had taught Heysoos to repeat verbatim, is now bowdlerized beyond recognition by Paul and Peter or Peter and Paul. What’s more, it’s only after the bowdlerization that the story (lie) takes off and becomes immensely popular with the masses of sinners or evil doers. God hates them all. And with good reason.

Skip forward 2000 or so years. The Republico de Tejas plus Okrahoma are fixing to roast in Hades. That’s right. The wickedest people on Earth, that God hates most of all, are suffering Hell on Earth, only partly mitigated by air conditioning and irrigation.

Why has God acted at last? Well. Remember God hates evil doers. But the farm subsidies were the last straw. That’s right. Since at least the Dust Bowl, God has provided the peasants of these parts with plenty of subsidies, reasoning, subsidies are part and parcel of the simple-minded humanism, His son, Heysoos, tried to get these louts to understand. But now, all these ingrates have turned against the very subsidies that have made their way of life possible. It is the final straw, the straw that broke the camel’s back, and exactly why God hates your guts.

What’s the Melting Temperature of Glass?

Crumby has decided the windows are melting. But the process is slow. Yes. Melting winodws can only be verified as one compares thickness, top, middle and bottom. Crumby feels like the bottoms of the windows are definitely slightly thicker. Melting glass, you may know, runs down hill.

Meantime, on the other side of the melting glass window, Crumby espies that except for the leaves lingering on many of the trees, the view is like unto a winter view. That’s what happens when the hottest historical summer coincides with no rain. The herbs go dormant or die and the glass melts. Anon, the trees that have not already gone deciduous shall also loose their leaves. Yes. It has already begun. Even the pecans are fixing to go deciduous. By September of this year without rain, the trees may be bare. Gracious sakes!

Then, along about Samuin, the winds shall switch around. Yes. The dry south wind for these terrible times; the dry northers for the terrible times to come. Mercy! No rest for the wicked!

This summer is probably fixing to become the hottest summer ever recorded for these parts. And many may cry out; Oh Lord my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Well. Easy that. God has forsaken you because he hates you. Yes. God hates you because you are an evil doer. And an evil doer needs to suffer hell on earth as a prelude to what’s going down eventually. So God has afflicted all you evil doers with the great heat and drought that the Druids call a dry period, month, year, decade,or time that could last practically forever.

Many may ask however, do Druids even believe in God? Well. How would it be if Druids, the same Druids that anthropomorphize all manner of deities, didn’t believe or feel like Jesus, the Father, and the Holy Ghost were more or less real? We’d be hypocrites if we didn’t at least concede the possibility of the Big Three. And the fact is, a God that afflicts evil doers is a useful God indeed.

Huh-huh. Here’s how that works. A great multitude of evil doers assemble out in the open or maybe in an air-conditioned auditorium in the sight of God. What do they do, once assembled? Easy that. They ask God for a supernatural intervention or two, a miracle of this or that. Like right now, the evil doers need it to rain. So they pray for rain. Some ask God for rain directly. Some ask Jesus to intercede with God. A tiny minority invoke the Holy Ghost. Please Holy Ghost, we need rain. Please, please Holy Ghost. Make it rain.

Course then when there is no rain forthcoming, the evil doers make excuses. Like God would have made it rain. But the rain would ease the misery of mosquitoes and homosexuals. So God in His wisdom withheld the rain.

But really the truth is, God heard the prayers of the multitude, either directly or from Jesus or the Holy Ghost or maybe from Jesus plus the Holy Ghost, but God did not make it rain. He did not make it rain, because he hates you. He hates you because you are an evil doer.

Actually, the great heat has also afflicted even the Crumby Ovate. It’s like Crumby is going dormant along with the herbs. That’s why Crumby can’t seem to get motivated to do anything. Mercy! Hey! It’s only 104 outside.