Tossing Salt Presents:
A Day of Dougie
When I’m Sixty-Four, BYOB, and Sanctuary Cities
March 5, 2022
Good morning infidels and welcome to a Day of Dougie. I know it’s been a couple of weeks since the last Day of Dougie blog, but I’ve hopefully written enough Q&A’s, of the wrestling, Casper, & Kelly variations, that you’ve been amused and entertained anyway. This has been a weird week.
Before I get too far along, I have to send a shout-out to a great guy, Josh, who is currently undergoing some bad times, and well, from what I understand, it’s a miracle that he’s still alive and with us. He’s a really good guy with a heart as big as a whale, smart, personable, and just a true blessing to know. This world is a much better place with him around. Please keep him in the prayers for a strong recovery.
And I have to mention another guy, an old acquaintance named Jonathan, Pa to his family and friends, who passed away yesterday due to kidney failure. Pa had his ways and wasn’t an angel by any means, but he had a charm about it, a great personality, and was an important part of my life for a long time. Rest in peace, my friend, and fly high on that mountain. No more pain. I love you, brother.
Now, let’s move on and do the whole Day of Dougie thing. I believe you already know the deal. I get the Magic Bag, pull out three random topics, and then with no preparation or advance warning, it’s just here’s the topics of discussion. Now write. Sometimes it turns out well and other times, not so good, but it’s always an adventure So let’s get the bag and get some topics for discussion. We have When I’m Sixty-Four, BYOB, and Sanctuary Cities. Okay, this one shouldn’t take too long. Are you ready to rumble? Let’s do this.
When I’m 64
A classic song by the Beatles, when I’m 64 is perhaps the ultimate love song. You love me now while I’m young, attractive, and still have my hair, but what about when I’m older, have the belly, lose the hair, and have turned into my father? Will you still love me then? It’s just a fun song that asks a lot of questions about life together, a future, and sounds good while doing it. The Beatles version is good, but the best version of this song, in my opinion, was in the movie Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, based of course on the Beatles and their album of the same name, when Mean Mr. Mustard (Frankie Howerd) sings it to his captive, Strawberry Fields (Sandy Farina). It’s a great song and it always has me wondering, “will you still need me, will you still feed me when I’m sixty-four”. Well, will you? Here’s the song.
BYOB is a term, an acronym actually, for the phrase “Bring Your Own Beer”. Or it could stand for “Bring Your Own Bottle”. And it means exactly what it says. If you’re coming over to party or drink, that’s great, but I’m not paying for your booze. Bring your own, and rest assured, if I’m coming over and we’re drinking, I most definitely will. I might have a case of beer or I may have a bottle of some adult beverage, but regardless, I will have it covered. But I just started wondering, what else could BYOB stand for? Let’s figure it out with a Top Ten List. So here you go.
Top Ten Things That BYOB Might Stand For
- Bring Your Own Booty (for the sex parties).
- Bring Your Own Bricks (for the BLM protests).
- Bring Your Own Bombs (for the suicide terrorists support groups).
- Bring Your Own Banjo (for that boating trip down the river).
- Build Your Own Business (and live that American Dream).
- Bring Your Own Black (for the local Klan rally).
- Bust Your Old Buttons (when the clothes don’t fit anymore).
- Be Your Own Boss (back to that American Dream again).
- Bring Your Own Bear (for the Gay sex parties).
- Bring Your Own Bible (and let me borrow it because, after some of these definitions, I need it. God, I need you now!).
And that was harder than I expected. Yes, I had to go low and borderline offensive to my woken friends, but you try making these things up. I’ll just play a music video now, based on my last acronym example for BYOB, and move on. Here’s Struggle Jennings and Caitlyn Curtis with “God We Need You Now”… and we do.
Sanctuary Cities are, by definition, a city whose municipal laws tend to protect undocumented immigrants from deportation or prosecution, despite federal immigration law. Or to put it more bluntly, it’s where illegal immigrants, who snuck into our country and are not supposed to be here, can go live, and the liberal government that runs the city, despite having sworn an oath to abide by the laws of our nation and the Constitution of the United States, will allow them to live without fear of arrest, prosecution, or deportation. And also while they’re there, blatantly flaunting their criminal presence and violations of our nation’s laws, the illegal aliens are also rewarded with education, medical benefits, driver’s licenses, financial support, and anything else that can be done to cater to them for breaking the law.
It’s just plain crazy that people are rewarded and protected for breaking the law and trespassing in our nation illegally. I feel for these folks, but there is a system in place that allows immigration legally. Use it and enter this country the right way and we’ll be glad to have you. But sneaking in, without vetting, due process, or going by the rules, you should be arrested, prosecuted, and deported, period. And these cities just don’t care. “It’s the right thing”, they say. No, it’s not. Following the law is the right thing and to be honest about it, any government official that willingly violates the law and proclaims their city to be a Sanctuary City needs to be removed from office and arrested. They’re criminals too and deserve to be treated as such. And I’m getting hot so let’s wrap this one with one final statement. Sanctuary Cities – don’t do dat!
And there you go. My thanks for reading. Any feedback, be it questions, comments, thoughts, or just a phone number and dick pic, I don’t care. It’s all appreciated and welcome. Until the next time, take care of yourself and be good. I’ll see you at the Salad Bar.