I Love That Little Girl 

I Love That Little Girl

By: Bill the Butcher

Had a most interesting chat with a supporter today. Terri, in North Carolina has been a follower of mine for years. She has bought into every sound bite the Republicans could put out, and it has scared her half to death. She always runs to me for advice. Poor soul. Her current concern is the idea of Michelle Obama running for president. Now, before I give my answer to her, I’d like to tell you that I was recently banned from WordPress. We’re gonna look at that. I’ve been stewing about something for three days and I may as well get it out now.

I’d been at WordPress for ten years, thousands of articles, and the only reason I was even there was back in 2012 someone suggested that I start a blog and WordPress was just the first one that popped up on my Google search. And it had the word “Word” in it, so there’s that.

WordPress was a free for all. I’d looked at Blogger.com and had used it. Using it to this day, but WordPress did have some ways to dance up an article, so I used it primarily. There was nothing of any substance on WordPress as demonstrated by the fact that in all those years and thousands of articles I never saw fit to quote any WordPress Blogs because they never had anything to say! The Butcher Shop was a big frog in a little pond and all the little frogs took no notice of it.

During this era, I had a deal with the Tea Party Tribune. Started small, but in time we dominated the publication and soon the rumor was that The Butcher Shop owned the Trib. We didn’t, but we were writing all the front-page articles. It got so bad that a columnist from New York once asked me how far I could go, and the Tribune would run with it? I wrote a little thesis about a monkey having sex with a frog! Lead article on the front page. I crappith thee not! I only feel it fair to say that the Tea Party Tribune ceased to exist shortly after that. You know, you win a few, you lose a few.

Back in those days I was carried by several publications. My mornings were spent sending dozens of emails containing my thoughts to various publications around the world. (Even China and Russia.) I never really took blogging as publishing. To me it was a poor man’s outlet. Can’t get published, just do a blog. Recently I heard about a “famous blogger commenting suicide. “Famous blogger? That makes about as much sense as asking someone to pass you the piano! Consequently, I had a bit of language. Combine that with the fact that I have a high school diploma from Killeen, Texas which is as ignorant as you can be, and they still let you drive a car by yourself. Oh, and I’m a drunk. Not an alcoholic mind you. I don’t like going to all of them meetings.

One of my publishers convinced me to curb my language for their magazine, and I turned down the volume a tad. In time I actually became rather astute at weaving my way through an article and saying what I really wanted to say without saying it so loud. As Bruce Lee would put it, “The art of fighting wid out fighting.” That’s not a typo, that’s the way he talked. One example of this was instead of calling Ken Paxton an S.O.B. (which he was and is) I said that I hoped that when he goes home at night his mother runs out from under the porch and bites him!

The result of this was over the years I became rather homogenized. That is why getting the heave to from WordPress was such a surprise. Like not being able to get a date with the ugly kid sister, or having the madam refuse your money. To get thrown off a nothing site like WordPress makes you think. If you read “Monkey Screws a Frog,” and compare it with the baby food I’ve been reduced to in the last few years you have to ask, “Why?” Upon checking I did find that WordPress’s headquarters is in San Francisco. Might be something there, I don’t know.

Well, the Why is Woke. The Woke Movement is a bowel movement. The super analytical situation where we find ourselves at the mercy of a Marxist plan to destroy America by destroying the individuality of its components. The very fact that a nominee for the Supreme Court cannot define what a woman is while she’s sitting on her own vagina shows how far we’ve fallen. When I was growing up in the 60s we didn’t have such confusion. We had Lyndon and his big Johnson. You have Dylan Mulvaney! Interesting note: Back then politicians kissed babies all the time, and nobody seemed to be concerned. Just something to think about. Take all the time you need.

America has been too fat too long. It’s one thing to discuss possibilities and quite another to accept and immortalize into law impossibilities. A man becoming pregnant is impossible. Going to see the Titanic in a bathtub held together by Superglue and guided by an X-Box controller operated by this year’s winner of the Darwin Award is impossible. And four people paying a quarter million to go with him? The Idiot’s Guide on How to Turn Yourself Into a Tube of Toothpaste! In addition to being stupid. We have become lazy and complacent. We were thrown out of Vietnam with “God Bless America” still ringing in our ears. But we are a superpower! Yeah, yeah, yeah. So was Russia. Got run out of Ukraine by a Tap-Dancing President leading a bunch of meth cooks. The term “Superpower” has been Re-defined!

What happened to me personally is what has happened to America as a whole. The entire Woke thing is an effort to disarm and castrate America. And it’s been a long-range plan. Remember George Carlin’s seven words? Well, he won  that battle, not personally but with a little help from his friends. Now look at what we can’t say now! Man, woman, Mr., Miss, heterosexual, Jesus, God, and queer! Actually, the list is much longer but I think you get the idea. I have no idea exactly why I was banned by WordPress. In the ever-expanding understanding of political correctness, it could have been just about anything. From my use of the word “queer” to my use of a wrong pronoun somewhere, or maybe I just quoted Jesus. Suffice to say that someone who is “minor attracted” took offense, got with his or her or its compadres down at the bathhouse and flagged me down. I don’t know. What I do know is it makes no difference. I don’t write for them. Like I’ve said before, I write for that little girl that is born fifty years after my death. The one who is walking from Killeen High School through the graveyard across from Saint Joseph’s to her family’s apartment on Lake Road and she stops to look at my stone. And she looks at it, and then at a copy of one of my books, and she says, “I’m gonna be like him!” I love that little girl.

Oh, sorry. My answer to Terri. The Democrats will run a Joe Biden/Michelle Obama ticket which will win because Trump is the lamest duck since Jimmy Carter. Biden will either die of old age or flip completely out and get hit with the 25th amendment and Michelle Obama will become president. God save the Queen!

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1 Comment on I Love That Little Girl 

  1. Too funny! I only recently “discovered” Word Press because of you Mr. Bill. So now they can kiss my ass for kicking you to the curb. As long as The Liberty Beakon keeps re-posting your stories, then I will still be able to benefit from your Witt-ness to this American tragedy. I just moved to West Texas and figured out it’s best not to mention that I grew up just south of the Canadian border in northern NEW YORK. My wife adopted the southern accent that she used to use exclutively on the phone when talking to scammers. She’s pretty good at it, but I just haven’t graduated to sayin Y’all yet. God help me! Since getting our Texas driver’s liscenses and plates (tags? whatever) on the Ford I’m not feeling so foriegn, but damn I couldn’t believe how many forms of identification I needed before Texas decided that I wasn’t an alien. I had to bring my original birth certificate. Do you know what a 70 year old birth certificate looks like, especially since I carried it around in my wallet for about 20 years? Because it was tattered and worn in spots the cleck said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this because it’s altered” So after serving over 30 years on active duty in the military, there I was… feeling like I had just crossed the border. You what? I have.

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