Tuesday, July 1, 2014

COWBOY, WANTED, DEAD OR ALIVE--WELL, WITHIN A CERTAIN AGE RANGE--THE TWO STEP, TUCK & ROLL, AT THE BLUE MOON, IN COLUMBIA FALLS, DIDN'T WANT TO TEST MR. NFR'S, YOUNG GUNS! LOL! A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A BAD ASS CON LAW CHICK, LIVING IN A PUNK ASS, PATRIOT ACT WORLD!

Rodeo in Town, She Didn't Like My Guns

Now for those of you who are new to town, or to Montana, the word guns, has more than one meaning--most likely to you and I, that would refer to some type of firearm, or weapon; however, to young cops and cowboys, that means muscles, just for your information, a vehicle is a rig.  So, a week and a half ago, while alone at the Blue Moon, now lighting the midnight skies of Columbia Falls, the words advertising a fun place to dance, drink, play some cards, or shoot some pool, or bull, the old blue lights have been replaced by the power color, red, good symbolic move for the place, I love to dance . . . alone!

The great local band, Four Score, a good old rock-in-roll band, playing rattling, raging, guitar slamming rock from the 80's, ten years after the 70's bands, I grew up with, but I rolled with the rock, up to and including that of today. was playing.  It is no wonder my son is a bass guitarist, I probably dance, pregnant, to wild rock, after the kids were in bed, and my husband was still at city council, county commission, or church high council, meetings, and I was alone and relieved the kids were down for the night!  Me and Aretha Franklin, rocking to, RESPECT, come on, come on, give me some . . . or We Are Family, Me and All My Sister's and Me . . . they took that literally, that there were two to 7 other, Me's, and decided to claim my career choices, educational opportunities and honors, my job experience, my case load, my Supreme Court license, my fun life and stories, my amazing children, resume, boyfriends, husbands, houses, bosses, but that butt!  I don't think so . . .

I like going dancing alone, I do it for fun, and for exercise.  I can workout to a dance video, and last, if I am lucky, 20 minutes, but if I go dancing, I can rock this booty from 9 pm to 2 am, and dance the socks off anyone 20 to 30 years younger than myself, l love to dance, and ditched the father of my four children, because I was bored, wanted to get in the mountains more, and wanted to go dancing and he was only good for about 2 dances if I was lucky, Valentine's Day or something like that . . . of course the one time I talked him into taking dance lessons with me, we both got inducted in to some regional dance competition or festival, performing the American Waltz and the Tango, literally in front of an arena full of people, at Weber State College, then, with a group of blue hairs, twice our age . . . the price of dancing, came too high to my quiet spouse, who is more of a home body than I am.

So, I Am Taking A Break & Mr. Young Guns Asks Me To Dance

The band and I were taking a break, because I can't sit still for one song; therefore, it is quit work out . . . I am sweating up a storm, and dripping wet, from head to foot, another reason I don't want to do contact dancing, like the country western two step, like all the cowboys and cowgirls do at the Moon.  The bands love it, especially, the other one what plays there all the time, they kinda know me, this one didn't, but they do now, LOL!  I get out a shake this booty, and I don't give a rat's ass what anyone thinks, because Big Bottom Girls Rule the World, words from a song, think about it, Hillary, Oprah, J. Low, Beonce', and me, we are not living in the gyms, or at soccer games, or at the spas; we are running for Prez., running companies, writing or choreographing music, or sitting in court, sitting with clients, sitting doing research, sitting writing briefs, sitting in our vehicles, going to court, when I used to have one!

I get the feeling, when I am not around, that the women have to wait for the guys to ask them to dance, partner dance, and generally, many gals, sit on the sidelines, wanting to just rock it, like I do.  So, when this big and beautiful gal, and I am not referring to height, but weight, they think, if she can do it, then I can do it, get out there alone, or with the girls, and just have a great time, without a partner.  The guys, have at times, given me dirty looks, because they could control the crowd, by strutting around the room, and like a bee, pollinating the flowers, or wall flowers, they go woman to woman, getting their choice, at will. However, when I come, things drastically change, and the gals, have a ton of fun, either, coming up dancing by me, or with their friends, or with a group of girls, and the guys, kind of become, superfluous to the dancing, not needed.  The bands dig it, and they always, always, make sure I know they are playing the next night, or the following weekend . . . only usually, I am not in town.

First Time Around--Mr. Under 25, NFR, Rodeo Star, Comes Around, the Answer is NO!

NFR, stands for National Finals Rodeo, and this young, cocky, stud, has no qualms about coming up to me, assuming I know how to do the 2 step, or I would not be at a cowboy bar, and asks me to dance--I tell him, I am just taking a break, and need to cool off and take a drink of my Diet Coke . . . then I see him approach, two other women, one was the wife of a band member, and the other was engaged to a guy playing cards, who was getting hit on by every guy in the house, she was wearing the type of clothing that would attract a swarm of bees, and the body to match . . . she kept trying to get me to come sit by her, so she had someone to hang with, and get left alone, but I wasn't in the mood for either male or female company that night.  I just wanted to dance, not talk and get into the trance of my body, moving to the music.

By the time, this young gun has been rejected by these two women, I decided, I had rested a bit, had a sip or two, and was ready to rock . . . but that was not where his dancing skills were, he wanted to do the partner thing!  Scream, I told him, I didn't do that, but, he assured me, all I had to do was follow . . . easier said than done, since that was not a normal place, nor characteristic, I did much, follow, that is!  He didn't take no for an answer, and he was very cute, and he made me wish I was 25 again!  And he was a strong leader.  But, I should have marked his, remark, about assuring me, when the hot body, turned him down, she didn't like his guns!  So, what, he is picking the fattest girl, in the room, almost, to show off his guns?

Or, so it seemed.  He really did a great job leading, and I did a better than average job following him. However, when the song ended, he decided to test his guns, and bend me backwards, and see how close to the floor he could get me and still get me back in a standing position, after the grand-standing!  As he started bending me backwards, without warning, quick witted and thinking as I am, I am reading his next move, struggling to get me back up, and both of us, crashing to the ground . . . so, I decided to save face, for both of us, I am going to tuck and roll, onto my knees, and gracefully, slide to a table, and get up, avoiding the stress on his young guns!  That proved to be disastrous, because, he hung onto my hand, thinking I was falling, which threw me off, and onto the floor . . . but, I have long learned to not care what people think . . . he was not there yet, and figured he had dropped me, even though, I did a fast recovery, standing, uninjured, with ego in tact!  He disappeared!  LOL!

I Am Thinking, Nobody Was Watching--Except, the BAND!

So, I get up, brace myself on a table and go sit down, which is where I should have had the wisdom to stay, but, life is a journey, live it . . . and I usually have some type of adventure every time I go, so this is just another dancing story, to included in my fun memories chest!  This poor, handsome, cowboy, will probably be tainted for like, have PTSS, post-traumatic stress syndrome!  I hope NOT!  He was so cute, a great dancer, he just got the humble beast!  He seemed cocky enough to recover, probably thought the bull seemed like nothing compared to dancing with me!  A blood sport!

The NFR, rodeo star, disappears, hopefully to get a good night sleep . . . they say, don't get on the bull, if you can't ride the full 8 seconds, that may go for dancing with me!  But, thinking, I had pulled of this tuck and roll, at the end of the two step without much attention, other than my partners, was shattered, when the band, announced, when you are dancing, make sure you don't drop your partner!  Oh, shit, I hope he was already out the door, and a couple of miles away; I am tough enough to take this type of joking at my age, but I couldn't have at 25, I would have died, of embarrassment!

Of, course, I find, cowboys, a different breed, altogether, which is one of the reasons, I dig them . . . they just seem to roll with it better than the city boys, are not afraid to get on the bull, or ask a girl to dance again, and show off their style, they are used to getting bucked off a horse, shit kicked up at them, and getting their bones broken, being thrown from a bull, or chased by a grizzly, men's men, and I dig those kind!  Oh, hell yeah!  Tough as nails, and I need a guy, like me and my Ford Truck, Built Tough!

Playing it Tough, With the Patriot Act Punks in Bozeman--for 5 Hours!  And Now the Pod Squad in Kalispell, Cover-UP!

It is a typical day for me, a constitutional law chick, from hell, to the Patriot Act crowd . . . I think they think the word, con, as in my blogspot title, bad ass con law chick blog or the government looting site, with the same name, title, writer, bio, and picture, bad ass con law chick . . . the word, "con" to means, a convict, con-artist, or con-woman . . . reminder, from my first blog . . . it is a law student, brief reference for the longer . . . constitutional law, as in are you going to con law today, meaning, are you going to our constitutional law class today?  

Much like a term of art, as in guns and rigs!  Each profession or avocation or vocation, has code words, that anyone, pretending to be a member, and doesn't get the insider's lingo, can be ratted out immediately, and those of us, in the club, know, damn, well what we are referring to.  

But, anyway, the Kalispell Pod Squad is out in force, lying up a storm . . . covering the cover-up, on the bus, at church, at community dinners, and at Walmart, or at the Blue Moon, about anywhere, I am likely to hang out . . . they got the lie covered, Rachel is her, even at the Super I, the night I wrote another revealingly damaging classic!  One of Fat Jack the Ripper's guys, shows up, doesn't act like he knows me, but sure to tell the tale of the lies, because, I am dealing with People of the Lie . . . popular book of the 70's, before Rachel was in high school!  LOL!  But, I forgot, she is now, looking older than myself, so . . . all works perfectly with the lie!

Once the Cops/Patriot/CIA or Whomever They Can Recruit, Knows I Am In Town--All Hell Breaks Loose!

At about 12:00 midnight, after the guy at the Pita Pit, tells me the shop is open until 3 am, dig, and figuring I had a safe, warm and dry place to stay, until just before my bus, back to Kalispell, came at around 3:45 am, I started to notice the cops out in about an average or normal number, for that time of night, with the night life, still rolling out until about 2 am, and I am just enjoying a sandwich and drink, watching Main Street, and enjoying the night's revelers, just chillin', myself . . . until, God, my Intel Guy, from Heaven, through a song, I had never heard before, with the words, it is time to disappear, it is time to disappear . . . please, tell me it isn't so . . . I am sick if this shit, I just want to relax!

The thoughts of my Missoula Great Escape, comes to mind, where I ignored my heavenly warnings, for two days, and God, like a pissed off parent, almost cracked me on the noggin or head if you don't know that term of parental art, with a clap of the first thunder and lightning, sizzling, like a firecracker, right above my head, warning me of the approaching storm, and then, kaboom!  The anger of Zeus and his thunder bolts and lightning, are unleashed, relentlessly on the walkers, and bikers, caught in the down pore, and others rushing home from work, or getting gas . . . I ignore HIM, at my own risk, so wearing as I am from no sleep, the night before . . . I split out the back door, and start to alley hop, back to the bus depot, miles away!

Warrants, Charges, Reasons--Not Necessary Under Patriot Act--That is Why They Cops Like It--Ultimate Power Trip!

God's training manual, and my brain, with symbology, that has been developed over the last few years, is as complicated as the federal tax code, and he knows how I think and I how he directs . . . when bikes, come by, especially with guys with mining lights on their foreheads, that means, bye, they see you . . . or areal surveillance, just picked up your ass on satellite, and you are toast, if you don't get the hell out of there quick! So to the shadows, alleys, and bushes I duck, making my way, slowly, as an Army of One, for the US Constitution, and rights and protections of the Bill of Rights, which, sorry loses in this personal battle of mine, to retain freedom and liberty of movement, my identity, by making fast breaks, so if, by any chance, the guys in the sky, might start to consider the fact that I am, in fact, who I have always, been, think rationally, and realize, "they" poisoned" me and had 10 fucking years, to use my name, my credentials, and resume . . . I only appear to be the new comer, but a hell of a left over, from the former days of constitutional glory, long gone, except by me, who was in a purposeful government operated and controlled fog, for a while . . . but, sure as hell, not, now, but a formidable opponent NOW!

In the last 14 years, they have been claiming to be me, longer than I, after coming back, in 2009, to reclaim my life . . . (you have to look at 20 years, or 40 years, including my family life, they want to claim, specifically, Elliot's music, since they stole it, now recruited him--I am not a new comer to either my life or the law!) they have taken credit, and ownership for all I do, did, and evidently will do, unless, someone, joins, this army of one, and helps me out, who is not on the pod squad in all the locations and towns I frequent . . . I am dealing with the pros, that go after the M16, to new KGB, the FSI or whatever Russian Intel is called now days . . . so, not easy to beat an army, nor the Intel, when you are just a smart ass attorney, with a hell of a brain!

A harrowing night, of surveillance, close calls, braked tail lights, lights going on wherever I was sitting, or hiding or waiting, cops cruising, putting gas station attendants, on notice, a threat, bigger to Patriot Act Punks, someone, willing to play chicken, with them, taking them head-on, hoping to smash them, before getting smashed, that I might be showing up around their parts, being close to the station, guys, undercover, not realizing that I saw, them walk up the street, then, coming down, from the bus depot, after first going there for the lie, friendly gas station attendants, giving me aid and comfort from the rain and storm, soon, after two guys come to the station, hang forever, long after someone trying to get to work, at 5 am, would do, with the bus, coming an hour and half late, I am sure, to make sure I didn't get on it, or away . . . hotels, with double doors, and a phone, once in side the first set, to wake, a weary clerk, letting them know a customer was waiting . . . being alerted to wake, by someone other than the girl, just inside, getting warm for a minute!

Hiding in car washes, first stall, with a bike, forewarning me, bye, or you dye . . . just seconds, before a bad ass, redneck truck of guys, rushes to the car wash, last stall, rather than the first you were in, sliding around the corner, our of sight . . . guys, cars, lights, cops, people, all over the place at fucking 12 to 5 am!  America's Most Wanted, in the One World Order Tyrannical World we are entering, if we don't stop it . . . and I am just one woman, who is getting tired after 2 1/2 years of being on the run, for what . . . FUCKING DEFENDING THE CONSTITUTION, LEGALIZING IT, WHEN IT WAS DEAD!

IN GOD WE TRUST, IN JESUS CHRIST WE ARE SAVED!  THEY WANT TO KILL THE CONSTITUTION--WHICH MEANS, KILL ME, AND GET RID OF CHRISTIANITY!


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