June, 2010

SFC HEADQUARTERS DOCTRINE

"Read by Thousands Round' the World!"

29 June 2010: Big UFC Gym! Big Tim Llacuna

Much thanks to the premiere UFC Gym and Tim Llacuna in northern San Francisco/Concord, CA. last weekend. Great new facility and they have great, big plans for the future. Tim is their Unarmed and Police combatives director for all of the other 99 gyms they plan on building throughout the world. The core material is SFC material and Tim is certifying each new instructor in our courses. How in the world I...me...of all people wound up teaching the first seminar in the UFC's premiere flagship gym? I don't know! Must be Tim! I'll be back there next June and next will be teaching at their brand new, and 2nd, UFC Gym in Los Angeles late next January, 2011. We have our old Honolulu, HI. SWAT team member certified and ready to teach for the Hawaii UFC Gym coming next.

Tim Llacuna is the head combatives instructor for the UFC Gyms. (Of course they also have several MMA programs) He has organized the Unarmed Combatives criteria and the Police (Police Judo) criteria and in charge of selecting UFC personnel for the jobs. In the works some 99 more UFC gyms around the world! Tim teaches at the Flagship Concord , CA. school.

Adios Amigos

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25 June 2010: A Mixed Weapons World

Lo and for many a year now I have said in lectures that "we live in a mixed weapons world." We also live in a mixed people's world - but that is the subject of another essay. So much martial training exists in the myth of the duel, knife vs. knife, stick vs stick, kick boxing, MMA, even empty hand versus empty hand combatives. Yet in truth, when the peoples of the world actually fight, it is usually with mixed weapons, and hopefully in your case, with a superior weapon than that of your enemy. A more realistic consideration for a real fight are examples like - your derringer versus my chair, or my knife versus your lamp. My pistol versus your shotgun. My empty hands versus your hammer. A baseball bat vs a crow bar. My empty hands versus your stick. Mixed weapons. Mixed.

It is easy to list hand, stick, knife and gun and much harder to list the elusive 5th category of "other," or sometimes called - expedient weapons. The military like the term "field" expedient weapons. But, such is defined as:

"non-conventional items used as weapons or combinations of ordinary materials

producing something capable of being used as a weapon."

Imagine the combinations. Prepare for these realistic possibilties. Always get a weapon. Always.

We learn through time that too much empty hand training leads you to fight empty-handed as your main response. Just like a Judo player forgets to punch, after a time you can forget to fight dirty and forget to use available tools at hand to survive. Such training is tragic flaw in survival doctrine.

Adios Amigos

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20 June 2010: Unsustainable - An Obamanation of Leaks

Remember in the good ol' days when a leak was a just a political whisper mess like, “Hey! Valerie Plame works for the CIA – pass it on…”

Each year back since the infamous Watergate leaks, American politics have become more of a Frankenstein, an unbearable, uncontrollable, self-destructive monster that we madmen doctors have sparked into life in a grand Republic experiment. And now we must watch this Frankenstein from the lab, castle window as it roams the countryside like an uncoordinated, man-zombie-child. Crushing, destroying and trampling as it experiments with its newfound life.

Leaks. Leaks. And more leaks. Recently while on tour in Europe, a man asked me, "how do the Americans feel about BP's oil well leak in the Gulf?"

I told him that it was a nightmare catastrophe. All at the table agreed. Next – “What was your political party?” I told him that I was a small-government/small-taxes person and most US Republicans pretended to agree, but I told him I truly disliked both parties. I usually have to vote for the lessor of two evils. At least the Republicans lied to me better and at least pretended to be on my side during election time. The Democrats - the Liberal Democrats are big government/big tax people, and as a result are sickened with an illogical thinking disorder. Much like smoking a pack of cigarettes every day. History and common sense proves such smokers will die an ugly death of their own making. And speaking of smokers? Here we find at the top - one President Obama.

In the next breath President Obama's name came up. “But this is not President Obama's fault?”

How can I answer this question? It is so far more complicated than just one leaking hole in the ground. There are many holes. Many costs. Overt or covert. Or, should we just call President Obama...President Bernie Madoff? Really, almost all presidents and politicians for decades now were really just a batch of Ponzi-scheming “Bernie Madoffs,” voting not to reduce government, but rather for the next, higher level of Ponzi schemes of money and power. At least Madoff admits that he knew his Ponzi scheme was unsustainable. When he was caught, Bernie was somewhat relieved. A realist! But Madoff did make-off with a lot of other people's money.

Where's your money lately? Your opportunity? That American dream? It is converted, convoluted, debased, regulated, overseen, overdrawn, over-taxed, maxed-out and impossible. Instead of climbing to the top, you hang by your fingertips on a ledge, gasping for air – air that liberals would like to tax next to pay for a cleaning scheme. You glance to over to your left? You see a plush cave and in it? There's Frankenstein smoking a cigarette and sending another 400 million bucks to Hamas. What has happened to us?

It seems like the US government is making off with a lot of money. But the government isn't the only unsustainable hole in the piggy bank. Insane labor union retirements and legacy benefits are simply unsustainable, Ponzi schemes. Even Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid are Ponzi schemes. In 2009 and 2010, people started really running the numbers and spotting all kinds of holes in investments and retirements. Trillions leak overseas to our friends and enemies alike. Money is leaking, more like gushing away from citizens. Their savings. Their homes. Everywhere. Replaced by more taxes. Yes, they even use the term trillions now. When I was kid in grammar school, “trillions” was a joke word like “gazillions.” Now it's on our bank statements. What's the next monetary word in fashion for our eventual suicide? Gaga-trillions? Or will it be something instead in Chinese?

Even the most maladjusted moron could see that these national Ponzi schemes are doomed to fall. Still we spend and leak away the abstract trillions. And morons vote morons into office. Lenin called them "useful idiots." As the adage goes, “If you rob Peter to pay Paul? Paul will always vote for you.” As Britain's Margaret Thatcher once said, "the trouble with Socialism is, sooner or later you run out of other people's money (and Pauls.)" Then…Atlas shrugs. Right now? My shoulders hurt.

President Obama can't “dive down to the sea floor and plug the hole.” He can't “suck it up with a straw,” as he reminded Gulf Coast residents just last week. But this is not just about one spot of gushing oil. He also said he wanted to “spread the wealth around,” and “never waste a good catastrophe.” Obamanation. Obammunism. These are all Madoff and Ponzi-like terms for you Mr. Peter. Losing more money to Mr. Paul and Senior Lopez, Mr. Achmad, Mr. Zorba and Mr. Chang. Spread it around world-wide.

You see, my European friend, the American people, whether they realize it or not, see this oil problem as a giant symbol of everything. EVERYTHING is leaking away. The oil leaks. Our money leaks. Our politicians leak. Family fortunes leak. Businesses leak. Our borders leak. Our safety leaks. The US Constitution leaks. And our control is leaking. The politicians ignore public demands, polls and simple common sense. In June, 2010, 72.5% of the American public disapproved of Congress. There are uncontrollable leaks everywhere and the helpless feeling we can't stop any of them. Up is down and right is wrong in a roller coaster of political correctness, semantics and Ponzi schemes for money and power. America is leaking. Life blood, you know?

The oil leak in the Gulf is just a giant symbol of every problem the USA has. We don't even have a contingency plan! The leaders scratch their heads. We cling to the castle ledge by our fingertips. The mad doctors just watch from the castle while this monster tramples the land, leaving greasy stains everywhere.

All along, I think many of us worried way too much about George Orwell's 1984 when we should have kept a closer eye on Mary Shelly's Frankenstein.

What did the old, oil men scream when the leaking hole suddenly exploded up the well? “It's a gusher! A gusher!”

Adios Amigos

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13 June 2010: The Bottom Side of Hell

Alone for decades. Even though I was attached in spirit and by radio to hundreds of police officers, or thousands of soldiers, I really worked alone for decades. I spent years alone, day and night in patrol squad cars and then working the streets as a detective. I have been alone in some bad neighborhoods that the local police would not send a solo officer into, been alone on fresh robbery and murder calls. Alone in fights. Alone on surprise raids. I've been spit on, cursed, pushed, punched, kicked, tackled, shot at and stabbed at. Things just happen that way sometimes. Well, a lot of times.

As I travel the world teaching, I see police officers in a squad car in London or South Africa, on a beat in Melbourne, standing around a Canadian airport security checkpoint, or holding a machine gun in a village square in the Philippines, or on a plaza overseeing a riot in Spain. In a way I know them all. Every one. Everyone is connected by a mission in their heart, a radio on their hip, but still everyone...has to stand there alone. Even in the most coordinated team movement, inside your head, you are alone, doing what you must do. Your part. Your share. Deciding. Calculating. Taken aim. Pulling. Punching. Kicking. Grabbing. Alone.

The street survival textbooks mandate that you to never do anything dangerous alone. Textbooks. Sure. In a perfect, textbook world there's a basement full of backup officers at headquarters just awaiting your call for help. In real life, police basements are cold and empty. Your other squad is all to often busy, or even pinned down on their own calls too. Your life may hang on that term “response time.” In some cities, rural counties and states - you can order and get a pizza delivered before you can get police help.

Annual statistics prove that about 1 to 10 percent or so of the people you arrest will fight you, and about 1 to 3 percent are bent to kill you. So many times in these life or death, mixed weapon fights, you are so alone. He is beating the uniform right off of you, smashing the cop right out of you. You become someone drowning, just struggling to breathe. To live. So flattened out and striped down, you are not even a cop anymore- just an animal. And only the rules of the jungle apply.

And, that's real alone-when its just you and him and he's spitting blood and hate, pounding your face. As your nose goes flat (smash) and each tooth cracks out of your mouth (bash), as he reaches for your pistol, you begin to wonder (crash), if you could even think, what tactics and techniques the best of the military would use, or the most, serious martial experts would try, to save your life. Unfortunately, you have probably been taught some timid, paranoid moves that are thinly disguised to keep your police agency (and now your military too) from being sued, or even just troubled. Their reputations and budgets are saved? You. You fall. Out there, all alone out there in the jungle.

In the United States, in the 10-year period 1995-2004, the FBI reports that 213 law enforcement officers were alone when they were murdered, representing 40 percent of the total 531 on-duty officers who were murdered. There are few statistics on officers wounded, not killed, but common sense tells you it is a sizeable amount. The year 2007, 2008, 2009 thus far are new record years for police death, injury and assaults. Nationally, law enforcement deaths are up 42 percent compared to last year, and of the 68 officer fatalities in 2009, 27 deaths were from gunfire, which was up 80 percent from last year according to statistics released by the Mesa Police Association and National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial Fund. A mixture of crime scenarios have led to the officer deaths, said Stacey Dillon, a spokeswoman for the Mesa Police Association and the Arizona Highway Patrol Association. "No one really knows why," Dillon said of the increase. "It's just across the board. People are just fighting back, and the bad guys just don't want to go to jail."

Who is in control of your life?
Your future? Your training?
Who helps you win, when you are all alone?
You, on the bottom-side of hell?

Adios Amigos

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8 June 2010: More Nonsense on Punching from Black Belt, Reality Poster Boy, Jim Wagner

Ordinarily, I made it a point for many years to politely ignore Black Belt Magazine columnist Jim Wagner, the self-proclaimed, young inventor of reality fighting. But, back in a 2006 issue I read his remarks on “Closed Fist vs. Open Hand," in a column that drove me crazy from his inexperience and ignorance. and I simply could not bite my lip yet again and sent his letter in to the editor. They printed the critical letter, which surprised me as Wagner was their little trumped-up, creation. Some young secretary at Black belt titled the letter "Masters Disagree." Bad title. I would never dare call myself a master and as time would prove out, Jim Wagner is only a master-bater. But this punching subject came up yet again, recently in the Combat Centric Talk Forum. So, here the old "masters disagree" editorial is again...

Wagner made his pro-punching main points:

* “Men tend to close their fist under pressure.”

* “Advocates of the open hand techniques say that a person runs a higher risk of breaking his hand if he strikes an opponent with a closed fist. This is nonsense.”

* “When I hit someone with my fist, the last thing I worry about is injury. I can get it fixed later at the hospital.” (I couldn't help but think that if this is such utter nonsense, why even mention a trip to the hospital?)

Humans genetically predisposed to fighting with balled-up fists? We therefore should be stuck fighting with only fists? All of unbreakable steel? Wouldn't this “punching gene” also mean we should de-emphasize grabbing and grappling and we'd have natural troubles striking the eyes with our fingers? Hammer fists, forearms and elbows? Somehow, with no training or very very little training, people do these other things.

In the college textbook "Boo! Culture, Experience and the Startle Reflex," - Professor Ronald Simins capsulizes a century of work on the startle. He describes that many people do not ball up their fists to fight, or when startled. They instead do a number of things like open their hands and drop items and they choke, push, slap and grab. In fact, hand-choking is a very high occurrence incident in common fights.

The open palm strike or palm heel strike was placed into military and police doctrines decades ago and for good reasons. Whenever the closed fist accidentally hits the ducking forehead/skull, there is an increased chance for injuries. Even some classical, oriental systems prefer strikes with the so-called “knife” edge of the hand, and hammer fists. Otherwise, bare-knuckle punching systems want hand "toughening" of the fist to counter-attack the common-sense, harsh reality of injuries. This brand of classical, toughening usually leads to long-term damage, disfigurement, surgery and case of arthritis.

Ducking skulls? The human head has a predisposition to duck down versus incoming attacks. The so-called slap or palm heel was emphasized to keep the soldiers from debilitating or incapacitating their hands in the middle of a fight for their life. One such modern, recognized source for the heel palm strike is the British military during World War II. The program called for restricting punches to the jaw-line and below to avoid striking the dense, ducking, bobbing and weaving bowling ball called the skull.

All this in an effort to avoid the several levels of hand injuries which may result:

- First, minor injury. Your hand could be injured and still function. This has happened to me, and many others I know.

- Second , moderate injury. Your hand could be injured and somewhat incapacitated. This also has happened to me, and others I know. You can still use your hand somewhat but it becomes swollen and only partially dexterous. In the middle of a fight, I could not grab the suspect in any way. Nor cuff him. My hand became a dull, heavy slab. Plus, a second or third punch with this partially wounded fist might finish off your hand right there when you need it most.

- And lastly, serious injury. You may suffer an injury with such electric pain that it shuts the fighter right down. This has not happened to me but has happened to co-workers right before my eyes, as well as numerous assault cases I have worked on. people have smashed their hands and fell in pain.

In terms of sport fighting, it is not uncommon for NHB, UFC rage-cagers, even when wearing some thin gloves and wraps, to damage their hands on the ocular cavity, forehead and skull of an opponent. Mounted ground-pounders sometimes break their hands punching heads pinned on the ground. Least we forget that Mike Tyson punched a mugger one night and broke his hand. Sadly some of the biggest names in modern martial arts have broken their hands doing their vertical fist battle punches and closed fist strikes in real encounters, against the cursed, ducking skull.

In three decades of police work, I can hardly think of a time, I didn't have a friend or complainant with a hand cast from punching someone. The U.S. Department of Justice advises us that we (citizens and police) are attacked by two or more people, in some 40% of all encounters. In dissecting this information, the stat holds up better versus the police, but could be even worse for citizens. Incapacitating your hand on the skull of one opponent could leave you in serious danger when in the midst of finishing off one person, and then fighting the others. Plus and even worse, some 40% of the time, the opponent is armed with an edged weapon or firearms.

Common sense strategy calls for fully functional hands for as long as possible, to deal with these and other problems, such as disarming, grappling, handcuffing, operating your weapons, telephones and radio equipment. It is under these real-world problems that the palm-heel strikes were introduced.

I want to make two last notes here; you can develop a wicked, wicked palm heel strike and/or slap with little work. Plus, secondly, keep in mind there are Neanderthal fighters out there with thick fists the size and density of sledgehammers. Instructors refusing to recognize the frailties of the hand, often use these cavemen as anecdotal examples to maintain the their status quo;

“Billy hits people in the skull! So we can.” Well…Billy ain't you. Nor is he most of the student population. Billy's monster hands can punch titanium and he'll laugh out loud. Don't let them teach you their way of fighting and punching. If they can do it, doesn't mean you can do it. However, should you, as a professional instructor get such a caveman in your class? Maximize his uniqueness and let him punch away as his personal, primary tool. It is hard to imagine that Hulk Hogan would break his hand punching anywhere on Pee-Wee Herman. But not vice-versa. This is an extreme example. Fighting is personal. Each person has advantages and deficits. Smart instructors realize this.

Just today (January, 2006) I met a black belt who threw a hook punch at a guy's head in a fight years ago. The guy reflexively ducked his head sideways. The punch glanced off the left side of the ducking skull. This separated the black belt's pinky knuckle from the hand, split to the wrist. His hand was ruined for the rest of the fight. He couldn't use it. He said it was crippling pain and to this day he cannot put his fingers together and it still aches.

The hands of our students come in all shapes and sizes, from fragile to ham hocks. Today, lots of martial arts and so-called "reality-based" systems just punch away and never warn any of their students about these hand-breaking programs. This is nothing but inexperienced ignorance. Professional, enlightened instructors must inspect their students attributes, size and strength for survival.

Nothing is perfect, and nothing is imperfect. All fights are situational and positional. People and their bodies differ. The smarter systems have long embraced this simple, reality advice “hit something hard with something soft. Hit something soft with something hard.” I don't think anyone suggests that fighters should give up punching completely. I also don't think reality fighting systems should suggest you should punch anyone, anywhere, all the time, and then report to the hospital later - the advice of a inexperiened fool. You might not make it to the hospital!

Strategic survival fighting also means surviving the fight, with as many body parts intact as possible, to keep on fighting.

Adios Amigos

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3 June 2010: The Value of a Tactic

On face value, a tactic, or technique is a series of steps to accomplish some level of diminishment of your opponent, be it a sting through a knockout, onto death. On face value, you might really like a certain tactic because it seems easy and successful, based on your skills and expertise. However, there is another level to review before we list this move in the “personal top ten.” Conduct a study on how many practical counters exist for this tactic. There are two types of counters;

Type 1: Natural and reflexive

Type 2: Trained

Obviously, the natural and reflexive counters are your worst problem. Most of the population is untrained and will react to you in this spontaneous manner. Trained counters are efficient responses that aren't necessarily instinctive, but learned, smart and effective. In some cases, these trained counters seem foreign and strange. For example, if you are caught in an ambush, one major counter is to charge the ambush while firing. This is a trained response and hardly natural, yet vital when solving the common military, rattrap called an ambush.

If your favorite tactic has eight easy, reflexive counters, and eight trained counters, that is a bit high and maybe shouldn't be in your top ten.

The good news is while working on these list with research and development, you are processing a lot of material and becoming quite savvy about tactics, counters and evaluation. This pro and con testing takes a broad spectrum of hand, stick, knife and gun knowledge.

Adios Amigos

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1 June 2010: Lawn Wars-Episode 3: A New Hope, by Buffalo Nickels. (if you are weak at heart or easily offended or insulted? Don't read this.)

"Da' Grass!" My wife reminds me, as I lay like a homeless bum in a stained hammock in my backyard.

It is upon this blessed hammock swaying in the New England breeze I could live out my life, reading the horse race results, watching ball games on the old portable, black and white TV and scratching my balls and whiling away the hours of my meaningless existence. Trancelike, I drink steady martinis and highballs from a 20-year-old coffee thermos. I have one for each drink, both within arm's reach. I stare at the fat neighbors slaving in their yards. Martha Stewart says gardening is a calorie-burning exercise. HAl HO! She hasn't seen the disgusting sumo wrestlers that live up and down my street. Planting petunias, honey, ain't a weight-loss program.

"Da grass!" She barks again, knowing well the exact amount of extra volume needed to penetrate my zombie stupor. What wife really wants her husband to languish? There is always something to do! My lip curls. I show teeth. Sneer. I look her dead in the eye and growl, "yes dear."

For you see my fellow Americans, tis the national anthem of summer. "Da' Grass." It needs mowing. Why, why, why do we get houses with lawns and grass. Why? Do we not know what we are in for? Two hours a week, we loose precious fuck-off, hammock, highball time - the sweetest charms of life ­ to fight back nature and trim the never-ending growth of green scum that only breeds more scum atop the soil.

Once upon a time I had son at home who I could trick into doing the mowing the grass. Those were such precious years.

My son, "Dr No," no doubt, fanaticized himself running this rig when he cut the grass. I on the other hand, dream of something else - The Battfefield motif."

"Yo, Dr. No!" I would call to him, "wanna run this hacking, high power machine of destruction?" pointing to the lawn mower. "You could line up shit in front of it and chop it up."

Dr. No, got his name by first saying "no dad! DUH! " in an annoyed tone to every, single, damn thing I would ask him to do. Anything. But cutting grass? With a power mower? He would instead get a gleam in his eye and say,

"YWhy...yes father. hank you."

He would break away from burning bugs with his magnifying glass or igniting fireworks in the mouths of enslaved frogs, or some other pre-medical pastime to run the killer blades of a power mower. He would first place expendable toy soldiers throughout the lawn with great care, along with various other plane, tank and car models I'd shelled out hard-earned pay for. The sadistic bastard. Then he would chop and mulch them up with all the enthusiasm of a twilight zone, Patton. The grass became secondary to his campaign bent on destruction. Then he would search the area for chopped-off limbs and heads and take note of the sheerness. Was this how Nazis got started? How they invented the atomic bomb? Some sick, fucking kid with a potential for math and a high horsepower mower? He also loved to weed eat and spread insect killer dugs. I would spy on him and he made chopper sounds as he dusted off the ant hills like we did with napalm. I have to admit I was just a little proud.

My wife would moan, "He is going to ruin that mower!" But I would tell her to leave the youth be. When soon the novelty wore off, I would have to beat him severely to cut the grass and do other chores I wanted to dodge.

Over the years, his pain endurance grew and the intensity as the beatings increased. About the time only gunshots would motivate him, he went away to college to become a doctor and left me with this mounting grass fight and beat-to-piss blades. I was cleaning out the engine once and found the round, tiny helmeted head of a green army man. I turned it in my fingers and reflected upon war.

"It is a fight here too, on the lawn," I told the bodyless figure, - a real battle with nature and man and the neighbors and the home association committee.

Rather than risk civilian murder charges, I devised a plan to win, partly inspired by Dr. No's great, toy soldier lawn wars. Since I am a former, military lifer and since so much domestic warfare occurs over grasslands, I see it is only fitting that my front lawn should have a special motif that truly reflects my interests and personality in much the way my fat, neighbors design theirs. County motif. Desert Motif. Colonial motif. I call my - The Battlefield Motif.

Here's how you do it. One afternoon in the middle of the week, when fewer folks are home to call the cops, throw a series of hand grenades all over the yard. It is important that you destroy every blade of evil grass. Napalm may well be required to really finish the job right. The explosions eliminate bugs as well. You know my motto, the world is better place with one less bug. Keep killing bugs.

Make sure the grenades cause craters. You do not want your yard to look like it's just been seeded, or the sumos next door will question you. It must look totally destroyed, raided and decimated. You may need some heavier ordinance, but I still have connections.

Next, you need some adornments. On the side of the yard? Rolled barbwire. On some barbs, hook tattered pieces of material with red coloring on them. Up front, one of those MASH road signs would look nice. The one with pointy boards showing the name and mileage to foreign cities? Martha Stewart would require accurate distance information, and I agree with the anal-retentive, bitch on this one. Get the correct mileage to Paris. Saigon, Berlin, Seoul and then pick some obscure city in the U.S. where they grow corn. Complete the look with a fog machine to be smoked at rush hours and school bus times.

At night - and not too late to get the cops called on ya - but say, early evening hours, run a tape of explosions, machine guns and pathetic cries of the seriously wounded. Keep lots of fireworks on hand too, in case anybody comes around to check things out. Throw M-80s at them. Nothing would be funnier than tossing a dummy grenade at some nosy, fat fuck neighbor and scream "incoming!"

Two WW I uniformed mannequins seated at on old wooden table dining on a rubber turkey. Think about the possibilities at Christmas? A wartime, noel theme! Then Halloween! Put dead skeletons in uniforms strewn across the yard, probably the only time that the dead body display would really be acceptable with your local Chamber of Commerce. One night out of the year you would appear sane. Plant dummy hands in the ground. Have one hand hold a sign that says, "no fucking solicitors." That might really work! Tourists would drive by. Fox News would interview you. You could become a star!

Well then ... why not a statue? There are all kinds of military hero statues already. Why not have one commemorating the real unsung hero of war... the hooker... that's right, the camp follower, trailing and servicing the troops since the ancient days right on up to last Wednesday. Design a hooker statue. Yeah! Personally, I prefer the WW II look myself, a Betty Grable type; no wait! Rita Hayworth, yeah. Short, tight skirt. Lotta leg. Maybe one boob sticking out of a symbolic, war-tom, tube top. Yeah! The big brass nipple. America! Yeah! At her feet, a pile of used brass condoms. Yeah!

If Martha Stewart comes around to complain? Shoot her! Just shoot her right down. Anybody who paints zebra stripes on doorstops for fun? Has entirely too much fucking free time and no life anyway...

"Da grass!"

Jeez! The wife yells, this time a four-highball yell, loud enough to pierce the effects of cuarto intoxicato. Well, guess I'll have to mow it all again one last time. The quicker I get on this battle­ground motif, the better.

Sometimes to save a lawn, you have to destroy it.

But Please don't look here! Buffalo Nickels . We are NOT responsible for anything the Buff says or does!

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The Historian Thucydides records King Leonidas saying this...

"A nation that makes a great distinction between its scholars and its warriors, will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools."

Email Hock at Hock@HocksCQC.com