Mr. Robin vs. the Weatherguessers...offers sage advice to Dirty Harry wannabes...also advice on late-night insomniac television. It's all here!

Busy weekend here…oh, yeah, happy Monday everyone. Spent the better part of yesterday shooting video for the first (finally) episode of “Confessions of an Insolent Hash Slinger (Cooking with Mr. Robin) on the web site.

Sheesh…admittedly marginal production values, but not bad considering I was doing it all myself. There are some pretty funny moments in the vid. Definitely worth watching. Would have been easier with Cousin Fred or Friend Lamont here, but they’re off on some other adventure chasing after the Hairdressing Hydrologist Gigi.

So, assuming I can get the darned thing edited down to something reasonably safe to watch, I’ll be posting it this week. More on that later.

I get up this morning and turn on the early, early, early newscast out of OKC and there on Channel 9 is early, early, early Weatherguesser Jeb telling the insomniacs watching him that we’re all going to die in a lethal winter storm headed our way this Friday and Saturday.

But, wait, after telling us we’re all going to die, he then points out that it’s still a bit early to say just what track the storm will take and/or how much snow/ice/mix may actually come down.

Then, in the next segment, Weatherguesser Jeb, again says they’ll have to watch the computer modeling to see just how many people will die in the coming blizzard of all millennia. Then, he says something completely startling.

Weatherguesser Jeb: I suspect it will turn out to be less than what we’re saying right now.

Me (speaking out loud to the TV): Then why the hell am I watching you when I could switch over to ancient reruns of the Danny Thomas Show?

Weatherguesser Jeb (speaking out loud to the insomniacs not watching the Danny Thomas Show): But my producer is whispering in my earpiece that computer models be damned, you’re all going to die!

Then, if that isn’t bad enough, in the next half-hour segment they rush Weatherguesser Lacey in the painted-on dress out in front of the camera to reaffirm dire warnings of impending doom (how’s that for damage control?). You can’t turn away wondering just how it is that she’s able to pull those dresses on day after day after day.

She’s showing live storm chaser video of a light snow falling near Cheyenne south of The Compound. As I’m watching the video, I’m fantasizing about coming to a screeching stop in front of said storm chaser while he’s on a live shot, jumping out, screaming something unintelligible and then mooning the camera. Ah, my fifteen minutes of fame! The family would be so proud.

When Chief Meteorologist Tornado-Payne-in-My-Ass comes on late this afternoon at 5, he’ll be urging us to pack up and drive south to Mexico where we’ll face slaughter by Mexican drug cartel warfare. Oh, wait, that’s Hands Morgan (Chief Meteorologist Channel 4) that sends people driving south to avoid Oklahoma weather…my bad.

I know, I know, just turn it off, Mr. Robin. Block out the positively giddy weatherguessers with their dire predictions. Eh, turning it off is too easy. Besides watching Oklahoma weatherguessing is my penance on earth I figure. I deserve it, I have it coming.

Besides, I have much more important stuff to discuss with all of you this morning, you lucky slobs.

Friends, if you conceal carry a weapon or fantasize about carrying concealed (you John Wayne wannabes you), you’ll want to pay attention to what I have to say.

If you’re going to spend the $$ to get yourself a weapon and go through the hassle of getting the concealed carry permit, for f**k sake, buy a holster to carry said weapon.
Also, if it’s a revolver you want to carry (you old-school fool you) leave the hammer on an EMPTY chamber.

If it’s a semi-auto leave the chamber EMPTY.

But, most importantly, if you’re going to carry, buy a holster. The gonads you save may be your own.

There is a report out of Arizona about some guy who was strolling through a Walmart meat department (o’ the irony!) when the unholstered weapon with a round in the chamber he was carrying in the waistband of his jeans slipped. We’ll call our unsafe dumbass Dirty Harry. So, Dirty Harry goes to adjust said slippage and guess what? Yep. The weapon went off.

Police received a report of a “self-inflicted gunshot wound to the groin” (look it up if you don’t know what that entails). Trust me when I tell you, he’ll probably never work in porn.

Fortunately, the wound suffered was not life threatening though the emotional scars from the cops snickering at him as they impound Dirty Harry’s still-warm weapon will remain forever.

Idiot. Putz, Fool. Snicker snicker.

That is all!
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