Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad

John-Henry Westen reports on the meeting just concluded between the sodomite groomer Tucho and the Superior General of the SSPX. It’s short.

https://youtube.com/shorts/mH1Iv1LXU-o?si=niTfCFtbGhl3msBl

Bottom line: Suspend your plans to consecrate new bishops and well “dialogue” with you.

To that I say, “Tucho, did the syphilis finally get to your brain?”

And to Fr. Pagliarani I say, “What more proof do you need that your instincts are correct and you’re not dealing with actual Catholics here?”

Lest anyone forget, a man who wrote sodomitic erotica in his adult years and not too long ago has demanded that you stop trying to spread the Catholic faith.

I’ve asked this before but it bears repeating.

What does it mean to be excommunicated by men who advocate for “inter-faith” Communion?

For that matter, what does it mean to be called schismatic by men who teach contrary to the Catholic faith? From whom are you in schism? Heretics?

Tucho, I’ve got a better idea. How ‘bout you shove your demands up your ugly ass? Too harsh? Want me to quote the filth he’s written? Didn’t think so.

Thanks for the prayers!

Some pics from the return flight:

Several friends who read these pages have emailed and texted in the past few days I want to take a moment to thank them and assure them that everything is OK. I will be flying home Wednesday morning.

Please pray for a safe and uneventful flight.

Guess the city.

For those not in the know, let me share a few things. First. I spent the first thirty years of my life (minus a year as a toddler when my family lived outside of Syracuse, NY) in New Jersey. Specifically I spent the lions-share of that time in Brick City – that’s Newark. For almost fifteen years now I have lived in my wife’s native Texas. Although I own a truck, boots, a hat, and I wish every sales clerk to have a “Blessed day” when leaving every single shop, I am not sure I’ve been accepted by the locals. Perhaps it’s how I pronounce certain words like tournament and mall and dog. Who knows…

The reason I bring this up is that I do find myself frequently flying back and forth between my adopted home state and my true home state. And tonight is a doozy.

Without going into reasons, tonight I found myself boarding a flight a scant ninety minutes after booking the ticket. That was certainly a first for me. Book ticket – pack for a climate 70 degrees colder – hand teenage son car keys – arrive at airport – run to gate. Man that was fun. Why, I didn’t even have enough time to download new episodes of Air Disasters.

As I write this the following things are happening or have just concluded.

1. Three pony bottles of gin consumed. Let’s not dance around this one. Harvey doesn’t fly without a drink. Tonight’s flight was especially turbulent.
2. The captain announced the Super Bowl winner.
3. At least one episode of the old Lynda Carter Wonderwoman has been watched.
4. Did I mention I was in shorts and a tee shirt when I packed? It is 8 degrees at my destination.

Fortunately the flight crew is very kind. They seem to like me. They didn’t charge for the drinks. I like that.

Another hour and I’ll be on the ground in the frozen tundra. Please keep me and my intentions in your prayers. I always appreciate it.

I’m going to share the following video once more, as I have each of the past few years.

Consider it homework.

https://youtu.be/VtyFUbmmxvI?si=Lq9V9_Dcw6H54geD

More to come…

Lent is coming and I can’t wait.

Happy Sexagesima Sunday!