I AM MOMMA, HEAR ME ROAR

Mostly all yesterday and last night I couldn’t stop thoughts about Colorado’s gubernatorial and senate race, and congressional races throughout the United States.
My thoughts would contract and expand, contract and expand around President Barack Obama.
Running up to Laramie, Wyoming yesterday didn’t help matters.
Why?
Well, I went to an open house hosted by the Rock Spring & Rawlins BLM to get public input on “view sheds.”
Now I know a lot of you who aren’t in the resource business probably have zero idea as to what the heck I’m talking about. Well frankly, neither do I. Or anyone else for that matter.
It’s kind of a surreal little exercise by those in public land management, in trying to appease the un-appeasable “interested public.”
My first encounters with such “public” was about 12 years ago, when they, along with the Islamic Jihad, cut fences all the way from about Lysite to Casper, Wyoming.
They are a people who troll public lands, looking for ways to get everyone...but themselves...off.
While some throw rocks at big scary cows, others are “grant writers” who get money from government subsidized groups like the Nature Conservancy and Center for Biological Diversity.
Many get their indoctrination degrees from some shambamboo temple in the bay area, and are sent out in pairs to do their trolling.
While most of us change our ideas and clothes, they don’t.
Seriously.
Walking into their presence yesterday, was like walking backwards twelve years.
There they were.
Unchanged.
Stringy haired (both genders) they shuffled into the meeting.
Long skirts (both genders) flowing, torn shirts and Birkenstocks reliably showcased riparian packed un-trimmed toenails, they reeked a mix of B.O., Pachouli and burnt beans.
They worked hard placing red dots (indicating they hated) on any picture that included a tank, trail, power line, ranch home or wind turbine.
They anointed the un-roaded vistas with green dots (indicating they loved.).
I wondered, “Did a human take the picture? If so, who gave `em permission to go in there?”
Wanting to ask, “Just how long does it take...to get a comb through that hair,” I asked one instead, “Do you like to eat?”
Taking quick inventory of my red neck followed by a chubby body, the pale emaciated one became dumbstruck.
Thinking she agreed with me, I pointed at my fat tummy and followed with, “Me too. Without fuel, there’s no food.”
Wrong!
She took her red dots and made show of pushing them on each tank and wire she could find on a photo.
Another informed me, “Energy production and free enterprise gave us global warming.”
He continued, “Now we (poor, earnest vegan slugs) are left to spend out our lives (fighting off the evil cows that steal the grass we graze on while walking from BLM office to BLM office filing FOIA requests) fighting these (evil) doers (until we lay prostrate on the Red Desert floor, solar heating our black tarpaulin cuplet containing 3.04 drops of spring found water to pour on a natural dip in a rock we found and now consider the most precious jewel ever in need of listing as endangered...therefore we’ll certainly direct the authorities to it and file a suit to stop all activities within a five hundred mile radius of it while we and the authorities study it for years; but not before we make green tea in it...from organic peyote, mushroom or cactus. We’d NEVER use anything “evil industry made.”).
No. He wasn’t that wordy.
Glancing over at the ever congenial BLM agents, I sort of mumbled back, “There’s absolutely nothing we can do to control Mother Nature.”
No kidding! The way his hands auto-jumped up to shield his eyes, ears, nose and chapped lips confirmed this was the first time such words ever touched his furry ears.
Suddenly I longed to be isolated in a magical forest cocoon, far removed from reality like them. A place where I too could rub my eyes, sleepy, childlike, and wish some adult would come along and let me stink away in a world of lollipops and unicorns.
But no. Like you, I too am duty bound to stay awake in today’s real world of selfish power struggles that enrich handfuls and destroy millions.
Each day I become more and more reluctant to open my email.
Why?
It’s rife with good vs. evil. Simple as that. Good vs. evil (And lots of things that appeal only to people breathtakingly stupid enough to buy into thereby perpetuating the advertising of.) .
Oddly enough whenever one states, “We’re in a war between good and evil,” the responses contradict: “Oh that’s trivializing,” or “overreacting!”
The one good thing that came from that 240 mile solitary drive to Laramie and back, was happenstancing onto Sean Hannity and Newt Gingrich jawing.
Hannity (Is like a child I love, but get so damn mad at I want to yank him away from the mic and demand, “time out!) was doing his usual shtick stuck in the gear of not letting the guest talk.
Then an amazing thing happen. Newt’s voice rose above Sean’s clamor, dropping words sounder than the soundest horse.
I wanted to saddle up that horse and gallop all the way to D.C.
What did Newt say?
Paraphrased: “Each time there’s a disagreement between whomever, we should get together face to face, in the same room, and work out solutions!”
WOW! Clear, plain speaking, common sense!
The way I reared my four children.
When one of those little toots ran in with a tale of woe, I’d insist all involved appear before me...face to face...in the same room.
Never once did I advise them, “Go to the press and let them decide who wins!”
Newt. Somehow I hope this gets in your hands.
I pray many more than just this solitary driver heard you yesterday. I mean REALLY heard you; to the extent they’ll demand the squabbling kids in government/media/public get together in the same room, face to face, and stay there until they come out with some honest to God workable solutions.
And there are workable solutions!
But first, pro-Americans need to wise up to who the anti-Americans are, and stop them!
Yes, I know. When all we see is here a brush fire, there a brush fire, everywhere a brush fire, it confuses, overwhelms, fractures and scares us.
We run around trying to get that guy running to his fire to come help us put out our fire.
We see our homes, neighborhoods, communities, states and yes, all America going up in flames,
while the anti-Americans, like arsonists, slip around more corners and strike another match.
They patronizingly tell us, “Oh that fire’s harmless; it’s not where you saw it; before you dose it, you must apply for a permit from EPA (The agency that allows millions to die of malaria, because it refuses to lift its ban on harmless DDT.); give us money, we’ll put it out.”
Then they pee on it.
They lie to your child, and sing praises to those who write stories about how they cry all night because big meanies are trying to get rid of the fluffy little lies they’re trying to hard to save.
They claim to know how best to raise your family.
Ooooooo, this is where they finally crossed the line with this Momma!
While I made my share of just plain stupid mistakes, I did a National Organization of Women no, no. I stayed home, raised my children, and respected - gasp - a man!
Yup! Had business cards printed, Professional Mom and Wife, and brought up those four to be adults I truly enjoy having around.
We’re told over and over and over, “You’re stupid.” But we’re not.
We know what’s best for our individual families. They don’t.
It’s time we stand up strong and demand any anti-American get the hell out of our homes!
They deliberately nit-picked, analyzed, micro-managed, regulated, ridiculed, taxed and dismissed us into paralysis.
But, today we’re going into fierce rehab until we can bust the crutches, stride out powerful, and bust their bubbles!
So where do we start?
Take Newt’s advice; take the position of an adult, and get all the children together in the same room, face to face.
Turn our focus first - to what provides the anti-American incubator and facilitator.
Everyone knows it’s “income” tax.
The way we’re taxed breeds hordes of anti-American actions.
Of course anti-Americans know this. That’s why they sneer, “No. We can’t abolish income tax.”
That’s not only misleading, it’s a down right lie.
We ARE America. We put income tax in there, we can take it out! Today!
And that, is what must be done before we do one more thing. Period!
Each time you see a candidate or incumbent for public office, barrage them with demands they commit to abolish income tax.
Be one note Charlie’s. Hammer them over and over until they understand without a shadow of a doubt, that you know the best cure for America is to end income tax.
You have two choices: Death for America and life for income tax, or life for America and death to income tax.
There’s no gray area here. Don’t let anyone tell you there is.
Let them know about the American Consumer Tax (ACT).
All it will take to ACT now, is a software program that will adjust sales receipts and send X percentage directly to the state where it was collected.
We’re already using software programs very close to such. It’d take a smart guy like Bill Gates about three and one half minutes to ACT now.
While American citizens work on the minutia of transitioning the ACT software, public servants should link arm and arm, and march income tax out the door!
As a part of this transitioning, we’ll need to teach the federal government how to be a good neighbor and learn how to “use its own so as not to injure another.”
First we need to help federal identify that which is "its own.”
That will be easy, for those identifications are defined in our United States Constitution.
Our Constitution established the boundaries between federal duties and states rights.
Each state would determine its percentage of ACT monies to send federal.
States will enjoy a higher yield on monies collected because they will no longer incur the travel expense of visiting D.C.
States rights will be honored by virtue of federal being forced back to focusing only on those areas as defined within our Constitution.
Now this part is for you, son Barack Obama.
Barack. Right now I don’t like you very much.
I love you, but I’m disappointed in you.
Why?
You’ve turned away from the Good Neighbor Law.
The people you’ve chosen to surround yourself with, abuse others in quest for self-enrichment.
They’ve turned you into an ugly behaving person.
You don’t have anything nice to say about anyone outside your circle (Didn’t I teach you not to say anything about a person if you couldn’t say something nice?).
You’ve become arrogant, judgmental, and unacceptably rude.
Did you know your aunt, who’s one of the sweetest, kindest engaged elementary teachers in Louisiana, has had students get in her face and spurt “My Obama’s in the white house now. You can’t make me do anything you white bitch!”
You promised me you were going to end divisiveness. You broke that promise.
You and your friends make huge messes, then lie, blame someone else, and go play.
Your grandmother ( my mother) would of never let me get away with such “unattractive behavior.”
You know she made me “finish the work, before you go play.”
You’ve got in in reverse. How did that happen? Maybe trying to make life easier for you, I unwittingly spoiled you?
Yes. You’re a grown man with a family, but act like a stinky child.
You’re way in over your head. So please step aside, watch, and learn from your old Mom.
I’ll be president for what ever time it takes to get my house back in order.
Barack, you’re a quick study. This shouldn’t take long.
I hope it won’t take long! For as you know I’m old, have done my work, and really want to “go play” now.
While you’re in training, I will continue to support you, Michelle, and my beautiful granddaughters. You may continue staying in my house.
In the event you choose not to learn, then as any good parent would do, I’ll insist you leave the nest and go support yourself and your family elsewhere.
Here’s what you need to know.
You now head a federal government that’s become the neighbor from hell.
A neighbor who doesn’t work or earn a cent, yet thinks it has a right to my earnings.
A neighbor who busts down my door, tromps their muddy wing tips through my house, terrifies your Grandpa while lifting his billfold, empties our refrigerator, shuts off our heat and water, leaves the door open so mosquitos can continue the sting operation, and drives off in Grandpa’s favorite red truck.
Here’s what Momma will do.
Shoot out the tires on Grandpa’s truck.
Plop the neighbor on my counter, take its little head in my hands, look it straight in its eyes and tell them they have no choice but to clean up their act, or get a meaningful spanking on their puffy diapered butt!
Push me, and I’ll ground them big time!
I’ll aggressively set up ACT. It needs to get done. I’ll get it done!
Simultaneously, I’ll secure our borders using the “Mehta Model” (Dr. Steve Mehta, candidate for 1st C.D. Arizona).
I’ll stop the spread of Shariah law, European Union laws and oil spill; lift the ban on DDT, end federal grants, return states rights, dissolve the UN and fully equip our military so they can prevail successfully wherever we need them; activate fair trade; encourage volunteer organizations to set up clinics: “Manners Are Fun” - “How to Bathe So As Not To Emit Noxious Fumes” - “How To Use Your Own So As Not To Harm Another” - and, “How To Be A Volunteer;” disconnect the pipe line between American’s paychecks and the private company known as Federal Reserve, review federal agencies and eliminate redundancies; fire the czars, facilitate selling some public land to resource producers whose land abuts, detach unions from government and allow them the right to succeed or fail in the private sector; demand robust face to face debates and make sure no policy exists before making new; install my idea of campaign finance reform while baking your favorite cookies and being kind to your Grandpa, Barbie Tractor, good horse Azteca, terrific dog Aggie May, perfect cat Seek and perfect cat in training June.
Oh. And yes. Enjoy your other four siblings.
I’m your Momma, hear me roar. I can do this and much, much more.
Dig out your work boots and gloves son Barack. We have long rows to hoe, cows to milk and rank bulls to cut.
Ok son. I’m through with you now. Will let you know what my flight schedule is so you can pick me up at Reagan International.
My final note is to Colorado Republican powers that be.
We have some of the most impressive congressional candidates and one senate candidate ever.
Get with the program and help them! They can win, they must win. They’re exactly what America needs to get healthy again!
Regards the gubernatorial: For fact there’s a gentleman who’s not running, but is wholly qualified to be a dynamic governor. He’s loved and respected by well over 600 folks across Colorado who already know him. Imagine how beautiful it will be when all voters know of him.
We don’t have to endure un-qualified candidates, or Denver’s mayor who’s well on the way to selling us out to globalists (whose end game is to control us and our land and water).
There. Now. Having purged my mind of red dot placers and other neighbors from hell, and come up with workable solutions, maybe I can sleep tonight.
And maybe some of you readers won’t.
But as my Mom would say, “If you’re going to do something that makes me loose my sleep, then I’ll make darn sure you stay awake until you get it fixed and we can both sleep!”
Disagree? Fine. Just don’t dismiss with your silent treatment, or digress into saying un-necessary stuff behind my back.
Let’s get together, in the same room, face to face, and work together to rid America of anti-Americans!
I am Momma, hear me roar, I can do this and much, much more!
And so can you.
Roni