Chamblee54

The content was published May 6, 2010. … I foolishly answered the question “If you’re not proclaiming the Gospel, why not?”. My reasoning involved non agreement and good taste, and soon found myself in a fun filled dialog. After the third entry, someone named “Otternam” made this observation: “Zach, I was anon earlier, but I can talk now… chamblee is a troll, so don’t play too rough, ok? I can’t tell if he is Jewish or simply superstitious with the whole G-d wordplay… Id just cut to the chase and use the tetragrammaton” … This is a family blog, and the x rated evidence I could supply (re: am I Jewish?) is not conclusive in the modern USA. Readers will just have to take my word that I am a recovering baptist. In addition, I had never heard of the tetragrammaton. (Zach, the blog owner, used the phrase “decalogue of Exodus 20” to refer to the Ten Commandments.)
Tetragrammaton is four letters which represent the God of Israel. The four letters are YHWH. This is not a song by the Village People. The pronunciation is disputed, and some say it should not be spoken aloud anyway. Many say it is Yahwah, which sounds really cool with a southern accent. Yahwah come back now, heah. … At some point, YHWH degenerated into Jehovah, God, and Allah. The third commandment prohibits the improper use of sacred names, but that doesn’t stop very many people. The internet is not inhibited either, and a website for Tetragrammaton is in operation. … In 2026, another Tetragrammaton is a very fine podcast starring Rick Rubin.
This content was published May 11, 2010. … I left the job interview, and headed to the dmv. The man said to get a mvr, which is something you want to hear at the end of a job interview.The Department of Motor Vehicles is a place where you wait. It is not possible to get through in less than an hour. For emergencies like this, I keep a book in my vehicle. Today the book is Tales From Margaritaville, by Jimmy Buffet. I was at a yard sale once, in the hottest part of the summer. TOM was on sale for one dollar, and I was going to pass. When I got back to my bike, the creeping heat told me to go back up the driveway and buy that book.
The lady in front of me has a birth certificate from Miami, Florida. Why are Miami birth certificates so pretty, when the Fulton county thing I have is a negative image copy, ugly as sin? … There are two old ladies in line before the lady from Miami. They both have hair dyed some hideous shade of faux blonde. Whatever happened to letting your hair go white, and being proud of living that long? … So I got my number, and found a plastic chair that seemed clean. For the next forty five minutes, every time a number was announced, I would look up at the lightboxes above the booths. This did not make the number come up any faster. I soon realized that every time I had been in a government waiting room, my number got called, if only I waited long enough.
Back to the book, which was a series of short stories, told in easy to read sentences. The first story was about a bartender in Key West, who tried to drown himself in waist deep water off the shore. He heard the phone ring in his house, and he decided to go back and answer. It was the phone company, calling to say it was cutting off his service for not paying his bill. When that was over, he was so angry, he decided he wanted to live. … The next tale was about a young man who meets his rock and roll star hero, and winds up hanging out with him. The hero tells the young man there are rules for becoming a star. They were (in paraphrased, copyright dodging form) the bar owner is your enemy, some folks are elbows, and will always be like that, and stay out of police custody. The rockstar is telling stories that get wilder and wilder, like the time he was playing in Montana, the audience was breaking the Guinness record for drinking cheap beer, and his bass player and keyboard man are fighting on stage. Before this story was over, the number was called, and I got my mvr. How the story turned out will have to wait until the next waiting room.
This content was published May 16, 2010. … Sarah Palin recently spoke at the NRA convention in Charlotte NC. She told redneck jokes. · “Some of these animal activists are just … crazy. They think we’re killing Bambi’s mother. I love animals, but in Alaska, Bambi’s mother is dinner.” · “You’re a redneck if you’ve ever had dinner on a ping pong table.” · “You’re a redneck if you’ve ever had a custody fight over a hunting dog. Well, Todd and I haven’t, but we’ve got friends who have!” · “You’re a redneck if your honeymoon was a hunting trip. That was us!”
“You’re a redneck if you’ve ever used a fishing license as ID.” · “You’re a redneck if you’ve ever slept in the back of a pickup rather than pay for a hotel. · “You’re a redneck if you’ve ever said to your husband, ‘Honey, move the transmission so I can take a bath.’ · “And you’re a redneck if you think the last words of ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ are ‘PLAY BALL!” · “You’re a redneck if your daughter’s babydaddy calls himself a f*****g redneck on facebook.” · Thank you Matt Taibbi and the NY Daily News. Pictures today are from The Library of Congress. Jack Delano took the social media picture in March 1941. “Young girl lives in this shack with her husband who works at Fort Bragg. In a settlement near Manchester, North Carolina” ©Luther Mckinnon 2026 · selah