Tag Archives: firearms

Veterans Administration: How many guns do you own?

All over the US VA Hospitals/Medical Centers are under investigation for incompetence, waste, negligence, malfeasance and misfeasance, brutality and being a cruel farce.  Turns out the San Antonio VA Medical Center is under investigation for precisely the same [failure to treat patients in a timely manner] reasons I entered a private hospital in Kerrville, Texas in January after several weeks of non-treatment and non-diagnosis at the VA Odessa and Big Spring VA Medical facilities during November and December, 2013

All over the US VA Hospitals/Medical Centers are under investigation for incompetence, waste, negligence, malfeasance and misfeasance, brutality and being a cruel farce. Turns out the San Antonio VA Medical Center is under investigation for precisely the same [failure to treat patients in a timely manner] reasons I entered a private hospital in Kerrville, Texas in January after several weeks of non-treatment and non-diagnosis at the VA Odessa and Big Spring VA Medical facilities during November and December, 2013

Hi readers.  I’d made mental notes to mention this, either on the blog, or to some other veterans, anyway.  Ask them whether they’d encountered the same phenomenon.

I first encountered it at the Odessa, Texas, VA medical facility when I was parking my RV at Eddie Brewer’s in Andrews while trying to get the VA to check out my medical problems.  Which they never did while I visiting them at that facility, but they did take a urine sample, did some blood work.  And asked one hell of a lot of questions.

Those people spent at least an hour asking me whether I’d done any recreational drugs, which I admitted I had.  Whether I’d had much recreational sex, which I again admitted I had.  Whether I’d ever considered suicide, which I’m not certain how I answered.  And the entire pantheon of other questions I didn’t consider any of their business.

Including, “How many guns do you own?”

I’ll have to confess I don’t always tell the truth when I’m asked such questions as those, but particularly when questions are asked about my ownership of firearms.  I’ve indulged in falsehoods.  And I’d done so on so many different occasions and in so many different ways I honestly can’t recall whether I own any guns, or don’t.

Anyway, when Odessa and Big Spring Veterans Administration Medical Facilities convinced me around Christmas of 2013 they had no intention of trying to know more than I told them about my physical problems, I went back to Kerrville, Texas.  Checked into the local hospital emeergency room, which most of you readers will recall from this blog.

And when a week inside that one didn’t clear up my confusion about what was wrong with me, I got into the RV and drove far enough north for Jeanne’s sons to bring me to KC.  Where I spent another week or so in the hospital and actually learned a lot about my condition.

Enough, I hoped, to give the VA another try insofar as treatment.  VA Kansas City, it was.

And here’s the untanglement of the entire reason for this post, other than taking another opportunity to whine about what a weakling unhealthy specimen I’ve become.

Damned KC VA Medical people sat my ass down early in the process and asked me all those same questions I’d been asked in Odessa.  And again wanted to know how many guns I own.  And again I can’t recall how I answered them, except I’m fairly certain I denied owning any.

And maybe I was telling the truth, maybe not.  I honestly don’t know and don’t plan on finding out anytime soon.  What the hell do I care whether I own any guns?  It ain’t as though I’m going on any shooting rampage or need to stick up a convenience store.  If I ever discover I need to own a gun I’ll try to muster the energy to dig around in my belongings somewhere.

But hells bells, with bullets so expensive I couldn’t afford to buy a magazine-full so’s to be able to stick up a liquer store anyway.  I might as well point my finger from inside my jacket pocket at them and swear in a loud voice, “This is a screwup!  Don’t be a hero!”

The VA didn’t ask me whether I had any ammo for the hypothetical firearms I don’t have any of.

Old Jules

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Israeli arms manufacturer murders Arizona gun range instructor

‘Bullets And Burgers’ Gun Range Closed Indefinitely Following The Uzi Killing Of Instructor By Girl Read more at http://www.inquisitr.com/1438430/bullets-and-burgers-gun-range-closed-indefinitely-following-the-uzi-killing-of-instructor-by-girl/#LS3eFux5O4YiXBhg.99

Hi readers.

The Israeli manufacturers of Uzi submachine guns murdered a US citizen in Arizona recently by manufacturing and exporting to the United States instrument of his death.  The shooting instructor is evidently not of dual Israeli/US citizenship and it is not known at this time whether he was anti-Semitic in favor of Israel, or anti-Semitic in favor of Palestinians.

Israelis need to be cautioned the US will not sit by indefinitely as the target of this sort of terrorism-by-weapon-sale.  If it continues the US, the Prez should inform them, will begin sending thousands of anti-aircraft and ground-to-air missiles to Palestine to form a defensive shield similar to Iron Dome protecting Israel’s illegal colonies on Palestinian  land outside Israel.

Afterward if Israel continues assassinating US citizens who are not of dual citizenship the Prez should advise Israel we’ll send offensive weapons to Palestinians similar to the ones we sent Israel to invade and destroy Gaza.

Israeli terrorist firearms  attacks on US citizens have gone on too long.

Old Jules

Giving the Devil His Due

Good morning readers.  Thanks for coming by for a read.

Before I leave Dennis Tolliver in the dust of history I’m going to share a couple of other anecdotes with you to round out your understanding of the sort of man was, might still be if he’s alive.

During the years I lived in Socorro I’d frequently stop in at Mel’s furniture store for coffee.  Often we’d stroll around the corner to Tolliver’s used car lot for the novelty.  Mel King

Mel and Dennis were close friends and both were trapped in self-images including a strong measure of outlaw-billybadass.  Nothing much was said about it, but it hovered in the background as scenery too solid not to be real.

One day we were huddled in the car lot office when a Navajo from the Alamo Rez came in with a small caliber pistol he offered as a down payment on a truck.  Dennis noted it was loaded with a round in the chamber, examined it and scowled.

Dennis:  This pissant thing?  What the hell do you think I’d want with it? 

He handed it back to the guy.

Navajo:  It’s a good pistol.

Dennis:  Good pistol my ASS.  Shoot me with this damned thing! 

He stood up and threw his arms out to make a better target.

Dennis:  Shoot me anywhere you want to with it!  If I have to go to the hospital I’ll give you the damned truck free!

The guy looked at the pistol, looked at Dennis, seemed to be considering it.  Then he just shook his head, stuffed the pistol under his belt and left.

Dennis:  Bastard was trying to set me up.  If I’d taken that pistol from him I’d have had cops all over this place.  A convicted felon in possession of a firearm!  If that bastard was real he’d have shot me and tried for the free truck.

I was more closely acquainted with a guy who’d grown up with Dennis, who enlisted in the army with him, served with him in Vietnam.  A man who had no use at all for Dennis Tolliver.  One day he explained his reason.

Several years before Dennis did his armed robbery trick in Grants the two of them found themselves in possession of some dynamite and blasting caps.  They were drunk, and went out on the Interstate blowing up traffic barrels, abandoned automobiles, whatever presented itself.

Eventually a police car came over the horizon behind them, lights and siren providing the drama.  Dennis floorboarded the truck, but the cop was on the tailgate in no time.

Dennis:  Light that stick of dynamite and throw it out on him.

The cap was taped around the dynamite stick with electrical tape.  The guy telling me the story said he lit it and tried to throw it out, but it slipped and rolled under the seat of the truck, him fumbling around under there for it.

Dennis, calmly:  You really need to get that out of here or that cop’s going to have us.

Finally the guy found it, tossed it out the window soon enough so’s it exploded outside the truck, blew out all the windows and the truck rolled into the ditch.  Dennis came out unscathed, but my bud got all his hair burned off, ended up in the hospital, then jail. 

Pissed him off royally, because he was charged and convicted for the whole mess, while Dennis walked.  Dennis even testified against him.

Worthless bastard!” was all he had to say about Dennis.

Old Jules