She crossed the room from the wood stove and held out a steaming mug in front of her. ‘Here you go, strong enough to lay railroad tracks on its own.’”
–James Leonard (The Marshal)
“Ol’ Dan Tucker was a fine ol’ man; he washed his face in a fryin’ pan…” Well, howdy-do, Pard, an’ good mornin’ to yuh. My, half-way through May already. Got the coffee on, an’ don’t be a-feared, I don’t plan on wastin’ it throwin’ on the floor to see if’n I can use it for a foundation. Don’t think it’d make good varnish even, but it might be good for refinishin’ some furniture if’n I was still doin’ that sorta stuff.
Tryin’ my best to stay from politikin’ as it makes me grumble, and adds some extra juice to muh innards. Can’t do much about it, exceptin’ to pray. It’s all in the Lord’s hands, but in the meantime a person can get stirred up ’bout some of the foolishness and lack of common sense. Why I was readin’ what that ol’ sage of the past wrote. Yuh might remember him, rode the riverboats for a while. Twain was his name, he spoke a truism, “No amount of evidence will ever persuade an idiot.” Now ain’t that the truth! Take that to the halls of Congress and into the court rooms.
Speakin’ of courts. The shysters are a mess. Judges and lawyers alike an’ some of them don’t care ’bout justice at all. Play with the system, dilly-dally around with the truth in front of them. Run by their own agenda rather than the code of law. If’n yuh ever read the Prophets, yul find that one of the indictments against Israel by most of them is a crooked and perverse justice system. The “alleged” shooter of Charlie Kirk….I would ask where is the speedy trial. Instead the shysters play at their shenanigans. Hmmm, wonder who’s payin’ his legal fees. Pard, let me be a tellin’ yuh, an’ I got this from a pard on that thar social media. It’s taken from Proverbs 11:3, but put down to language liken yuh can handle. “A crooked man don’t need the dark to hide.” Ain’t that the truth!
We need more like ol’ Dan, and perhaps use the fryin’ pan to be knockin’ some sense in the noggin’ of some of them polecats. Ol’ Miles, from time to time, has been able to smell the aroma of the Pale Rider, well, I’m a-thinkin’ it ain’t jist smog we’re a-smellin’ or the garbage left in the streets. It’s the odor from them legal and political shysters. Pard, tighten that cinch down, or yuh jist might come out to find yur saddle missin’. Taken by one of them illegals, or given to some bum, by one of them shysters.
Breath deep, but beware yuh jist might come up with an aroma that might cause yuh to turn green. No matter what, as I already tolt yuh, the Lord’s in charge. The fools are all around and in various places thinkin’ they got it under control, but they’re doin’ nothin’ but a-foolin’ themselves. Yep, there’s plenty of them fools fools out there.
Yuh keep ridin’ straight and for the brand of the Lord. Don’t be dilly-dallyin’ no place yuh don’t belong. Gun oiled an’ handy, Bible read an’ ready for use. An’ Pard, besides the coffee in the mornin’ don’t be leavin’ without be prayed up. Varmints, hostiles, imps, an’ skunks are lurkin’ about.
Vaya con Dios.