Everyone in Alabama is not stupid. They just get more press.
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Publié :9/1/2009 15h33
Dernière mise à jour :15/8/2009 16h58 3942 vues
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YES, THAT"S MY CAMARO. TRANNYS AND DRAG QUEENS DRIVE HIGH PERFORMANCE MUSCLE CARS IN THE S.E.C.....NOW TO THE BUSINESS AT HAND.
First it was insane hiring practices of a football coach. Alabama took a year to find a good one. Auburn set a record for quickly hiring the wrong one. Our former governor is in prison, and our present governor should be in the next cell. Future governor Charles Barkley is attending driving school for his arrest of DUI, while speeding to make a rendezvous with his mistress.
Now there's an attack on high school girls in sun dresses. State NAACP President Edward Vaughn objects to the Azalea Trail Maids of Mobile, Alabama. The girls are to represent Alabama in the presidential inaugural parade.
The Azalea Trail Maids are fifty high school seniors from Mobile County Schools. The ladies are selected through a interview with questions of their knowledge of Alabama history. Three judges from outside Mobile make the selections.
The outfits are antebellum style sun dresses, skirts flared by hoops to display the ruffles of the dress. Festive hats, also known as bonnets and the ever present sun parasol or umbrella. This is not a skin flashing risque costume.
The girls this year includes two native americans, eight blacks, one asian and thirty-nine caucasians. All of whom want to participate in the parade and other nine annual appearances. Smaller groups of five make numerous appearances through out the year.
If Edward Vaughn has his way, the girls will not be allowed to take part in the ceremonies. For the swearing in of the new President of the United States. Vaughns reasoning is the group reminds him of the slavery past of Alabama. Vaughn thinks that the state will be a laughing stock. That has already happened. It was Alabama trying to keep up with Utah in the Sugar Bowl.
Suppose the girls were riding a parade float designed to look like an old southern mansion. Sipping sweet tea. Throwing handfuls of cotton onto the street in the path of a black man, wearing shackles and a collar running for his life. Chased by dogs and Klansman on horseback. THAT would remind nearly anyone of slavery.
Edward Vaughn told the Dothan Advertiser that marching bands from historically black Tuskegee University or Alabama State University should have positions in the parade. It would better represent that we as a people have come together as one.....One what? One state that has deported all it's caucasians, hispanics and indians. Or one state that excludes anyone that "ain't got dat natural rhythm"
A group of smart diverse attractive ladies in conservative sun dresses, draws negative response from the state president of the NAACP. As a misrepresentation of Alabama. That people will see the state, as still a hold back to days of cotton field forced labor.
Having a predominately black marching band, is not a group of multiple races united, as the NAACP claims to champion. But purely a group of musicians playing up the stereotype, that all blacks can do is dance and play a tune. This is the opposite of what the NAACP should be. The advancement of people of color over stereotypes.
If Vaughn wants to make a statement let the oldest marching band in the state of Alabama play. The girls can still represent Alabama in the parade. I am sure the NAACP can find it in their budget to pay for the trip.
As far as being a laughing stock statewide, Mobile did that already with the $9000 moon-pie event on New Years Eve.
Everyone in Alabama is not stupid. They're just the ones standing outside when the camera crews arrive.
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The Christmas Melt Down
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Publié :15/12/2008 15h00
Dernière mise à jour :14/8/2009 13h42 2877 vues
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The Buffalo Bills showed up on December 14, 2008. No penalties, no turn overs. Solid ground game. Defense that kept Brett Favre standing on the sidelines. Then a funny thing happened the kick went wide right, leaned left, bounced off the up rights and through the goal. You could feel the ghost of Super Bowl past enter the bar.
Later, fourth quarter 1:46 remaining. Buffalo has the ball and the lead 27-24. Time ticking down. A few hand offs to Marshawn Lynch, drop on a knee, go home.
Losman decides to get cute, leaving the pocket looking around for imaginary receivers. Enter Abram Elam SACK! Loose ball, Jets recover, end zone, Shaun Ellis touchdown. Extra point good. Losman now kicking himself for being stupid. Pressure, pressure. One more shot, please one more chance.
Jets kick off to Buffalo. Ball returned to respectable field position. Losman hurries, trying to get it all back at at once. Overlooks the open receiver, neglects the running back. Throws a perfect strike to the first Jets defensive back that gets open.
Burning hot bile gathers in Losmans throat. "Oh, my God! What did I do?" His stomach turns, arms tingle. Brett Favre and the Jets now show a ugly dark side rarely seen outside the locker room and game parties. They keep the ball on the ground. On a 4th down and 2 yards to go, they run a lame up the middle play. Purposely giving up the ball on downs, to Buffalo.
A secret conversation on the sidelines will reveal Losmans demise: BRETT FAVRE: Turn it over on downs? JETS OFFENSIVE COACH: Yes! Look at Losman, the guys in full meltdown. JETS HEAD COACH: Brett, It's December. We're in the Meadowlands. They're the Buffalo Bills, for Petes' Sake. Just give him the ball.
Buffalo receives the ball on downs. Losman looks like a distracted Adam Sandler in a bad SNL sketch. Dazed, eyes unable to focus. He takes the snap, hands off for a gain on the ground. Next play. No time outs. A glance at the sideline he looks at living legend Brett Favre, who is smiling at him, hands in pockets. Losman spikes the ball. Penality Timeout taken. When the two minute drill was decided before he went on the field. Intentional grounding the gain is lost. Losman becomes a walking, talking unconscious train wreck. He will remember none of this on Monday. Shock and anger have set in. Wet palms, dry mouth, panic. The urge to urinate while running blindly for the team bus.
Buffalo Coach Dick Jauron is saying something, sounds like words. Losman unable to comprehend, nods. Returns to the huddle, looks over at Hall Of Fame bound Brett Favre. Who is unwrapping his wrist bands, two New York Jets have the Gatorade bucket moving toward the head coach. Losmans mind crushes in on itself. "You F-ing bastards, it's not over. Put the bucket down. Stop smiling at me!" The young quarterback now smells of salt and urine. He mumbles a play from the October, Miami game. Receivers look confused. A big lineman grabs Losmans arm: "Hey man pull it together" Losman grinds his teeth, loud enough to be heard from the bench. "Get your paws off me. You damn dirty ape" Losmans eyes are blood red, blinking back tears. He gives the incoherent rant of a play: "Z28! Z28! 6 speed...manual...Go long, go long. OH GOD! Ferguson, Kelly, Bledsole, Flutie...I'm not them. Stop looking at me, damn it!....Break!"
The final snap. Losman stands there, seeing everything. Understanding nothing. Plenty of time. The Jets don't rush. They give him time. Time to completely humiliate himself. A lone Bills receiver creeps to the top of the screen, end zone free. Losman ignores the sure score afraid to aim at such a small lone target. He finds another Buffalo receiver among three green jersey Jets. Losman pumps to telegraph the throw. Closes his eyes and safely under throws a hail mary to the Jets defender. The camera pans away from Losman, now on his knees. Hand to his face mask vomiting between his fingers.
Final score New York 31 Buffalo 27.
Favre offers a compliment that can be taken good or bad "You did all you could" Losman is now visibly weeping, laughing, talking to himself. A trainer, hand on the quarterbacks shoulder guides him to the locker room. The head coaches meet, the exchange not so kind. BUFFALO COACH: That was fucked up. That boy was in full nervous breakdown. JETS COACH: "Hey! What do you want me to do about it?" BUFFALO COACH: "Go back to Jersey! Ya bum"
In a official statement today, head coach Dick Jauron claims to have over ruled the offensive coordinator Turk Schonert. Moving away from the established ground game in favor of errant throws....Were I not a Bills fan, it would have been fun to watch.
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O. K. now it's Shopping Season
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Publié :3/12/2008 16h15
Dernière mise à jour :14/8/2009 13h59 3948 vues
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The trampling of a human being in the door of a Wal-Mart the friday after Thanksgiving Day does not qualify as the official beginning of anything. Other than, the dummy down effect in the shrinking of the mental gene pool.
December 1st is called Cyber Black Monday for the people who shop early on-line. As opposed to the other working days, that they sit at a office cubicle and shop on-line.
Tonight 9:00 Central Time CBS marks the actual start of the shopping season. Victorias' Secret Fashion Show. Leggy, beautiful women wearing panties, bras, high heels and wings. Men and women will watch. Peek in wives, girlfriends or significant others closets. Copy sizes and spend a small fortune thursday during their lunch break.
You might carry the spirit of the season in your heart all year, like Scrooge learned to. But the shopping season starts tonight.
Everyone please remember, what is in the catalog is seldom at the store. My alter ego asked a salesperson years ago. Why is that? I had walked in confident, everything circled for each name on my list. Victorias' Secret and American Express Gold Cards in hand. The complete one stop shopper.
HER: We don't stock what's in the book.
ME: What? They do at JCPenney.
HER: This isn't JCPenney.
Thursday, there will be no people being stomped on, no shootings in the toy section, no $99 crappy brand laptops. Only the start of holiday cheer, diet egg nog, kids crossing off days until Christmas. Unemployed men dressed as Santa Claus, ringing the Salvation Army bell. The local chorus hard at practice for Midnight Mass. Snow. Lights, lights, lights. Hanukkah candles and the days of Kwanzaa.
Lights please. Linus, stand center stage. And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this [shall be] a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men...."And thats what Christmas is all about Charlie Brown"
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Episode 44....a new hope.
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Publié :4/11/2008 21h32
Dernière mise à jour :14/8/2009 13h51 3706 vues
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CNN, Headline News, PBS, NBC, CBS, and ABC are reporting the election returns. Brett Hume is talking in hushed tones. Karl Rove said The Cosby Show was the First Black Family of America, not the Obama family. Major Garrett is taking deep breaths between sentences.
FOX News is suggesting McCain felt "something was bigger at play" in Obama being the first African-American candidate. Obviously something sinister. Actual ooohhh and aahhhs are heard here in the bar.
Then a hand clap when a commentator points out that Obama is not only the first black president, but the first bi-racial president. Mentioning his white grandmother. This brought a degree of relief to some of the crowd. So, that did soften the blow.
I'm sitting in the hotel lounge watching people, with looks on their faces that remind me of when my little brother was choking on a peanut butter sandwich, after hearing there was no Santa Claus. I'm waiting for praying, hugging, crying and looting to begin. I hope they don't loot, I'm in a rental car.
On a note that brought cheers. Mississippi elected a republican to a senate position over a democrat. We're in Georgia, I don't know why it matters here. But for a few people, it means the world will not end tonight.
What will the next four years hold?
We hope getting out of Iraq. Installing another puppet dictator. That we will maintain and manipulate, not over throw.
Taking the fight to Afghanistan, Pakistan and where the enemy actually operates. Defending our ports, our borders. Bringing our outsourced jobs back to this country. Drilling for and using our oil. And most of all getting a college football play-off system
My contact tells me over in the West End district, wide screen televisions are set up outside and people are grilling. Spirits are high. I'm invited to attend.
My place is here at this unofficial command post. Monitors, lap top, cell phone, note pad, pencils, drinks and a view of the people.
Senator McCain has given his concession, thank you speech.
President Obama is starting his acceptance, thank you speech.
From an unspecified Marriott in Atlanta, Georgia....Good Night.
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Tricked not treated.....
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Publié :4/11/2008 16h09
Dernière mise à jour :14/8/2009 13h56 3650 vues
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I gained twelve pounds of muscle, see the photo!
I wanted to look buff for halloween. And I'm glad I did muscle up. I had heard urban tales, have seen pictures, and saw a joke video. But finally seeing one up close, on halloween night of all nights was a true fright.
It all started as a excellent spooky weekend in Pensacola. A live theater group, put on a fantastic Rocky Horror Show. A local movie house had a midnight showing of the movie. And I got to wear different versions of my outfit each night.
I poll dance at one club in my corset, fishnets, panties and high heels. Cage dance at another club and on stage at the last club. Money, free drinks, making new friends. At closing time, this guy comes on to me. His voice sounded like Barry White. Played the entire soul man stud routine. We go back to his place. He takes photos while we have drinks. The music is lusty and the mood is set.
He pulls out his ace.....It was a tiny trump card of any, I had ever seen. I just stared at it. Stroking it did no good. There was nothing to hold on to. Even less to suck. I turned him on. It was hard....Like a roll of quarters. If I needed to do laundry, I would have been ready....I wanted him to do me.
He had the nerve to produce black condoms, a cocks-man move. It was a slap in the face to the entire industry. Then the amateur directions began. Get on the chair, put your leg over the arm, lean back, lean over, get on the couch, get on the floor, more lubricant, less lubricant. I felt like I was doing twister-aerobics. His cock was too small to get into my ass.
And I have small, firm ass cheeks, thank you very much.
This went on for thirty-minutes. Then he said: "I want to suck your dick" At that point, I controlled the urge to run from the house screaming. I felt like the girl in a halloween slasher movie......Really, do I have to wear a sign around my neck, that says: "I'M THE BITCH. I DO THE SUCKING" It's guy, that does the fucking!
He finally gets a position that helps to get his self off. Mentally, I fantasized being the helpless heroine dominated by some overpowering zombie. Pleasured myself to ejaculation, and started for the door. He then gives me his cell, house and business number. I had them laminated, as proof he exists.
In case Mulder and Sculley come around asking questions. If anyone goes out with this guy, don't expect much. No, I will not give his name. He has enough problems, having the smallest penis of all human beings. At least I got a couple of drinks and a tank of gas out the deal.....Trick or fucking Treat!
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The adventure continues....
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Publié :24/10/2008 12h16
Dernière mise à jour :18/8/2010 20h30 3250 vues
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THE CENSORS refuse to allow me to mention the three well known reputable automobile search engines. They are not paying sponsors.
As I type, my bags are packed. Only days ago. The independent mechanic called me with a good report on my next automobile. The C****x service saved me many dead ends. I have changed insurance companies. Acquired a loan at a very good rate and am only hours from flying to Miami.
Thanks to the intoxicated jerk, who did not see the stop sign, the red light or my car. In his defense, he was trying to get two crack sluts back to the projects. Then get himself back to Georgia, before his father realized the car was missing.
One tenth of a second sooner, and he would have t-boned me on the driver side at 50 mph. He was in a 25 mph zone. That and I had no side air bags. As it stands, I received only scratches and a very nice check for my eleven year old car. I know, it was time. A 1997 Thunderbird, but it was immaculate.
Having searched high and low for my next automobile. E-mailing dealerships, walking the lots on Sundays. Watching A********r and C**.**m each day. An exotic car dealership in North Miami came up with what I wanted. A local trade, low miles, excellent condition. I pick it up on Friday and have the weekend in South Florida. Then at some point enjoy a ride back to the panhandle of Northwest Florida.
Metallic Silver Chevrolet Z28 Camaro. T-Top. LS1 engine. I test drove a six speed manual in Baton Rouge. I did like it, but it was a convertible. Too many enemies for that. Plus the open top and humidity is hell on my hair. That and a third of the time, I'm in stop and go traffic, sitting at traffic lights or wearing five inch heels. As much as I enjoy the clutch, I opted for the automatic with overdrive.
And now comes the negative feed back. From the energy saving, anti fossil fuel, battery powered car community. I can see them coming up the street waving torches and pitchforks.
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Sara Smile....you, vice president you.
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Publié :8/9/2008 20h40
Dernière mise à jour :15/8/2009 17h26 3773 vues
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Hello? Hall and Oates? Sarah Palin called. She needs you to sing that song at the inauguration. While she dances a slow waltz with her hopefully sober husband. She also, wants some respect. So, I always call her governor. Her friends call her Sarah. Too many people have laughed at the choice of Governor Palin as a vice-president. It's an excellent choice. The simplicity alone was genius.
I lost three different political pools by picking Kay Bailey Hutchinson, Elizabeth Dole and Ron Paul. Covering my bases, if Obama had picked Clinton or Wes Clarke. Yeah, I lost that pool too.
Alaska maybe weak from a swing state point of view, but it's sitting on top of millions of barrels of oil. The state houses two air force bases, three army posts, coast guard, naval bases, national guard and reserve. As well as Marine operations. Alaska is called The Last Frontier. If you live on unclaimed, uncharted land long enough. Build a shack, plant something and guard it with firearms, you can claim the property. Plus there is numerous wildlife to shoot, trap, kill, mount on walls and even eat. Sounds like red state material.
Palin covers all the required bases. Party approved religious background. Anti-abortion. Anti-sex education. Anti-homosexual. She's a mother of five. With a recently pregnant daughter who decided to have the baby. Reinforcing the anti-choice message. Timing is everything.
Governor Palin does draw my straight up respect for caring for a special needs child. This is a hardship, that many families know. The families I know that are walking this path, do so with endurance and love. They could benefit from the level of health care package the governors family has.
The republican party draws attention to her family while throwing a penalty flag at the press for paying attention to her family. Karl Rove has to be jealous of this maneuver. This was not a token pick, this was a well thought out move. Katherine Harris was used, then tossed aside, in Florida. The GOP learned not to offer up attention getting women, as one dimensional window dressing and sacrificial lambs. Instead offer visually pleasing, while misleading with one-sided dis-information. Playboy presents: The women of FOX Channel propaganda.
Governor Palins' son is anxious to enlist and fight the good fight against the evil insurgents, possibly Iran and maybe the reborn Red Menace. Although any officer that knowingly sends the son of a governor/future vice president, anywhere near combat; will see his career fade quickly. The son-in-law to be, should make the same selfless sacrifice for mother and country.
Give people what they want to believe represents them. A family that hunts, shoots and eats meat. A husband that gets DUIs just like any red blooded good ol boy. (Our current president is a recovering alcoholic, so it's o.k.) A wife that smiles alot. Is cheerful getting the kids off to school, off to the hockey matches. Still having time for community and state service. A son anxious to serve his country. A daughter, anxious to be a mother. Small town hard working people, no different from us. Only they have Alaska State Troopers for body guards, a larger budget and a plane to sell on Ebay.
Senator McCain has for too long practiced moderation. Listening to all sides, using common sense and compromise as tools for solutions.
To start barking, talking tough and selling wolf tickets at this point would look staged. Instead enlist the aid of a bright eyed, brunette Ann Coulter. She can preach carefully worded hate. Taking orchestrated shots without fear of losing popularity. It's like the intoxicated fiance saying out loud at dinner, that she wants to fuck her boyfriends, brother. Everyone laughs and no one gets bent out of shape. Because she was so cute when she said it. The next day all is forgiven. But the message is sent and remembered.
If a publicity fire storm does erupt. McCain can step forward as the trusting old sage. The grandfatherly voice of reason. Reeling in the youthful enthusiasm of his patriotic second-in-command. He gets to look wise, she plays to the conservative guidelines of men running the show. They never walk side by side, she stays two steps behind. Like any well-trained Wal-Mart wife. Be seen, don't be a bother. Read your lines, as they were written.
Governor Palin has foreign diplomacy experience. She lives and serves in the only state of our union that borders two neighboring countries. Unfriendly Russia and questionable Canada. Canada is kind of French. The hardcore right wing still have a problem with being kind of French. So far there are no troop build ups on the border.
The State National Guard and Air National Guard answers to the governor. Giving her valuable military experience. During her term in office, Alaska had no more al qadea terrorist threats. The Soviets invaded Georgia, when they could have easily mounted an attack on Alaska.
People fear what will happen if a President McCain should slip on a bar of soap, being rendered unable to lead. Will President Palin, be able to lead? Sure, she will. Speech writers give them the words to say. The cabinet members plan strategy months in advance. The joints chiefs select the usual suspects of potential enemies. We vote in a confidence and popularity contest.
Obama and Bidden have the same deal.
It's all a show.
Stop leaning down on the governor of Alaska.
You could have been looking at Governor Schwarenegger and Chuck Norris.
Would you knock the battery off their shoulders? Didn't think so.
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Patriot Games
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Publié :1/8/2008 19h05
Dernière mise à jour :15/8/2009 17h33 2978 vues
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People are being killed for political patriot games.
To get to the United States, from the direction of the Japanese fleet. That fleet would pass Pearl Harbor. The U.S. was engaged in talks with Britain. Collaboration in the eyes of the enemy. To Japan, the U.S. was already involved in the conflict. Pearl Harbor was not properly stocked or manned. The U.S. military build up did not reach Pearl Harbor. Roosevelts gamesmanship worked. He ended isolationism. He got his war. GAMES
President Clinton botched two chances to kill Bin Laden, during his time in office. Bin Laden was identified in a closed area of a public market. The time to assassinate him, was then. Clinton wanted Bin Laden in the clear. Bin Laden got away. On another event Bin Laden was photographed moving in public. Am I above firing a missile into a group of non-combatants to get a target? No. What would it matter? Since 9/11 our level of anti-islamic and anti-arabic hate increased anyway. GAMES
Bin Laden is from wealthy family. He did not need U.S. aid with anti-aircraft weapons. But he was anti-soviet at the time. President Reagans administration provided weapons. Bin Ladens group destroyed opium fields belonging to farmers selling for black market profit. It played into the "Just Say No To Drugs" campaign. The U.S. sent more aid. Today the Taliban and Al Qaeda control the regions opium. GAMES
Colonel Oliver North calls Bin Laden and Abu Nidal by name at senate investigation hearings. Senator Al Gore makes a joke of the names. And questioned Colonel Norths accuracy of the facts. Same hearing President Reagan conveniently forgets terrorist intelligence conversations along with the guns for hostages scheme. North is left swinging in the breeze. GAMES
The first President Bush with his C.I.A. credentials still warm, ignores the Bin Laden threat. Carries out Operation Gulf Oil Crisis and drops the subject. Main focus being on Saddam. "Just Say No" nonsense continues into the 1990s. GAMES
What does every Muslim want? Or Christian Or Buddhist want? Freedom to worship without outside influence contaminating their religion.
Islamic purists condemn the bombing carried out by Bin Ladens group in New York.
Is Bin Laden a extremist? Yes.
An extremist gets to the point. Quote from my favorite vice president Richard Cheney: "If we're going to make an omelet, we might as well break a few eggs"
Weapons of mass destruction being found since the war. Questionable chemical additives. Contaminated purity of chemical agents compounds. And poor storage conditions. This leads the White House to refuse saying WMDs were found. Cover story: The second President Bush wanted to look forward not backward. If this is the case; MacGyver and the contents under my kitchen sink could add up to WMDs. If I wanted to press the point. Or not. GAMES
The people that were in the airplanes on 9/11 were burned beyond recognition. Within two weeks, names of the terrorists were released in newspapers. The intelligence community had the information. The "chatter" exposed names and places. There were too many suspicious reports to law enforcement departments of these operators and their movements before the attacks. Personnel. Targets. Method. All mishandled. GAMES
Fighting a war in Iraq, is not choice. It's convenient for the excuse of containment. Because, if we pull out the war comes to the United States. Illegal aliens cross our borders everyday. Where are the illegals crossing over to carry out acts of violence? Tampering with water supplies? Kidnappings? Assassinations?
Cocaine, marijuana and heroin is smuggled in the United States everyday.
Where are the chemical and powder explosives?
Why aren't bridges falling and schools burning? For every Mexican cutting grass, there should be a "taliban terrorist" cutting power supplies to a hospital.
If there was an Al Qaeda based terrorist movement against the U.S. everyday would look like Belfast during the 1970s.
Fight the battle where the terrorist are.
There are street gangs, with thousands of members. Bloods and Crips. Using violence to control and Drug dealing. Police are outnumbered and out-gunned. You can see street violence.
Organized crime Italian, Chinese, and Russian mobs; routinely use murder, extortion and bribes to control the life of the common man. Living in fear. Read the newspaper.
Ku Klux Klan. Acceptable by hiding behind a cross and a version of christianity. Terror tactics to oppress and segregate.
It carries over into our elected officials.
Their presence is seen everyday.
So, where are all these sleeper agents and suicide bombers?
The drawing out of our forces from Iraq is coming. Or this country will go into financial default. As the Soviet Union did. The leaders lied to the people for years. Building massive ground forces for the coming American attack. In the 1980s we made money. The Soviets made tanks. Until they went bankrupt.
U.S. borders are open. Ports are unprotected. While a majority of people are focused on hate and dwelling on post 9/11 lies. We have been fighting a war on culture. To maintain an administration, that has left our defenses down. Homeland Security, would better be called Fatherland Security. Invasion of privacy is not protection. Censorship is not protection.
We have to uncover and stop acts of terror.
Not manipulate them for political opportunity.
Buildings don't fall straight down from impact at the top. They fall neatly when pre-rigged and detonated.
When a plane crashes it leaves a crater and debris in the direction of the crash. Not scattered for miles with no crater. Unless that plane was subject to an explosion while still in the air.
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.....and I endorse this message.
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Publié :1/7/2008 15h15
Dernière mise à jour :15/8/2009 17h44 3559 vues
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Retired General Wes Clark, I think would be the best choice for a vice president.
That was my choice back before the eliminations. Clark was also my choice for president in 2004.
Now the press is suddenly considering Clarke as a possibility as running mate to Senator Obama.
We all aware of Senator McCains capture behind enemy lines, and his incarceration. It draws a picture of courage and integrity. Until the paper mailers, donation flyers, e-mails and the video disc began to make the rounds. Now a turning point in a mans life is being played for hype and hand outs to the donation box.
Leading me to say in March of 2008: "That sitting in a bamboo cage and waiting to be rescued is not a credential for being a president of the nation" Clarks statement that has drawn fire was "that riding in a fighter plane and getting shot down" is not a qualification for being commander-in-chief. The criteria of courage and conviction as a P.O.W are to be respected. But also put into context the skills acquired with the upcoming task he seeks.
The press is making a huge ordeal of the statement, from Clark. Aside from nearby naysayers, calling me names. The networks are not calling me for interviews.
Back to point. Riding in the back seat of a fighter jet. Being landed on the deck of a aircraft carrier, during a military fiasco. Just to wave "Mission Accomplished" is clearly not the act of a coherent sitting president. Have an invasion strategy, a occupational goal. Hand over power to a competent "puppet dictator" and then execute your withdrawal plan. At that point the president; who did fly fighters in Texas and Alabama, could land on the deck. He was a qualified pilot while protecting the gulf coast from the North Vietnamese. The president could then announce job well done, mission accomplished. And while I'm speaking to you:
"By the way Senator McCain has my full endorsement" That would count, not what we are being expected to swallow.
All this would have taken place during this supposed lame duck period. Not going out with a whimper, but with a bang. Instead here we are. The best laid plans of mice and men. And so it goes.
The statement that General Clark made was respectful and were his own thoughts. Not a script from the Obama camp. I said the same thing months ago. Not as tactfully as General Clark. No one from the Obama camp asked me to say anything. It was my comment AND I endorse this message.
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Made in Mexico
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Publié :18/1/2008 16h55
Dernière mise à jour :15/8/2009 17h58 4048 vues
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Methamphetamine dealer shoots California deputy at a traffic stop. Man kills his ex-girlfriends parents and her brother in Arizona. Another man suffocates his baby daughter, leaves her in a tool bag on a overpass in Chicago.
Ordinarily death penalty offenses. But these men took advantage of a loop hole, thirty-year old policy. Mexico will not return criminals to the United States, unless assurances are given of no death penalty.
"We find it extremely disturbing that the Mexican government would dictate to us, in Arizona, how we would enforce our laws at the same time they are complaining about our immigration laws" said Barnett Lotstein, special assistant to the prosecutor in Maricopa County, Arizona.
In laymans terms; if you kill someone, go Mexico.
The murder should be premeditated, graphic and horrific. The crime must fall into the category of brutal, cold blooded killing. Anything less could merit a fifteen, a twenty-year or a life sentence. That will get you extradition. It has to be real slasher movie mayhem. Mexico will then welcome you with open arms.
Convenient to northwestern kill crazy butchers is Canada. The same rule is flaunted by our neighbors to the north. Canada was once haven to draft dodging communist sympathizers. Today it's a quick drive to freedom, strict gun laws and a health plan. Sixties flower took root and grew like rag weed.
Northeastern and east coast murderers will still flock to the state of New Jersey. For comfortable housing, medical, dental aid, room and board. All furnished by the taxpayer. IF caught, if found guilty, and if the court can squeeze in another trial date.
The United States Marine accused of murdering another marine, is believed to have fled south of the border. The victim was also a pregnant woman, her remains were burned and buried in the murderers backyard. This makes the crime heinous enough to ask for the death penalty. Thus, Mexico will quickly lay down the law protecting the rights of this fleeing remorseless bag of feces.
In return the United States will open it's arms to under the table undocumented wage slaves and "guest workers" who live twenty to a motel room. Guessing which job they will take from which American next. Or just wait until we kill off every third man. Then scrurry like rats into their old homes to avoid capital punishment.
Make no bones about it. Drug laws in these third world outposts are savage. You're left to become very skinny in cage, with mice for friends. Still, what doesn't kill you, doesn't kill you.
And any axe wielding homicidal miscreation will take solitary confinement any day to the gallows.
From a story by Michelle Roberts. Associated Press writer in San Antonio, Texas.
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Merry Christmas New Jersey.
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Publié :14/12/2007 15h57
Dernière mise à jour :15/8/2009 18h07 3901 vues
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December 14, 2007 New Jersey state senate approved a bill, that abolishes the death penalty.
Sex offenders, and murderers will now be housed, fed and receive weekend conjugal visits at state tax payers expense for the duration of the convicted felons life.
Personal note: This perversion of the legal system would hand tie, confuse and leave helpless even cape wearing super heroines.
Governor Jon S. Corzine will exercise his power as the states most powerful democrat, signing the bill into law. Now serial as well as spree killers can plot and prey on the masses. With only full medical, dental care, and library educational privileges to look forward to, should they be captured.
Said Corzine: "without possibility of parole" Giving the personal guarantee of lifetime benefits; that include chapel services, organized sports, recreation rooms, book mobiles, and psychological counseling. Provided the accused should receive a found guilty verdict. And be incarcerated in the state of New Jersey.
New Jersey ranks tops among states with mafia influence. Before the signing of this "Tony Soprano Law"(unofficial name of my choice)
down and out members of society were once afraid to "take a murder " for a local mob boss. For fear of the possibility of capital punishment. Even under personal threats and/or promised financial protection for his family, few would risk getting the chair.
Now any chance of the electric chair, gas chamber, firing squad, lethal injection, or hanging has been removed. Any stoolie punk can become a stand up guy. Taking a fall at the nod of the boss capo.
Fledgling button men, kidnappers, armed robbers, racist-extremist-hate crime-death merchants and victims of marital infidelity can now operate without fear of death row reprisals. Thanks to a 44-36 vote by state assembly members.
Senate Republicans had sought to refrain the death penalty for those who murder law enforcement officials, and murder children and terrorists. But Democrats control the legislature. The idea was rejected.
On a personal note. It is my feeling the of terrorists should not be an offense on any level.
Among those who will receive this new lease on life are: Jesse Timmendequas, convicted of the 1994 and murder of Megan(Megans Law)Kanka. John Martini Sr, who kidnapped and killed Irving Flax in 1989. Marilyn Flax expressed outrage: Martini remains alive "while my innocent, loving, adoring husband lies in a grave"
Along with fresh uniforms, gender issues rehabilitation classes and league basketball; Permanent residents along with other unresponsive-violent repeat offenders of the New Jersey State Penal Authority will receive special diets for the diabetic, handicap accessibility, and introduction to cultural awareness seminars.
Said Assemblyman Richard Merkt of the bill: "a victory for murderers and " "It does not benefit families. It does not benefit New Jersey society. It does not benefit justice.
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"Happy Birthday " 39 Forever.
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Publié :6/12/2007 13h24
Dernière mise à jour :15/8/2009 18h13 3692 vues
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Growing up, Christmas took forever to arrive. Xs on the calendar, the Sears Wish Book. Then I got older and the shopping mall, commercial machine started. Time seemed to speed up. Which charge card to use. Who gets a Kwanzaa card, who gets a Hanukkah card.
Looking back on holidays past. I settled into my own traditions. Natural tree, became out of a box tree. Some apartments have a thing about natural trees. Go to midnight mass or baptist services? It depends on who I'm seeing at the time.
For me, when I hear the "Peanuts" Christmas Time Is Here. It's here. When you see the Victoria Secret Angels, it's here. Egg Nog, I take mine straight unmixed. I like the taste. Reading "A Christmas Carol" the long version. Getting that first christmas card written and sealed.
I detest trendy and novelty holiday songs. Give me a hundred voices and strings. I want snow, bell ringers, hustle and bustle. Don't say Happy Holidays to me. If you wish me a Happy Kwanzaa, I won't get bent out of shape. Just don't be generic.
A carpenter and his pregnant wife, traveling to the City of David. Found shelter in a stable, for lack of proper quarters. A miracle baby was born, that evening. Angels delivered a message to the world. People would follow for miles, an unusually bright star, the planet Venus. The rest is the history. The greatest story ever handed down. That was 2046 years ago this month. Jesus of Nazareth really did figure out how to be 39 forever.
I would like to wish you Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, A Joyous Kwanzaa, and glad tidings to all. To those of you, who were waiting for this, to turn into some twisted perverse ordeal, of being molested by elves: Santa Claus is watching you.
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A Pleasant Thanksgiving.
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Publié :25/11/2007 17h45
Dernière mise à jour :4/12/2009 22h48 3637 vues
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The holiday season has began. Shopping malls will fill to capacity. Children will pray for snow, begin to mark Xs on the calendar to December 25th. It is my hope that you had a most enjoyable thanksgiving. And that each of you had at least two things to be thankful for.
I began to wonder after the turkey dinner. Between the ninth and tenth glass of wine. Going back to that first thanksgiving. The exchange of culture. What the oh so pure women began to feel seeing the smooth skinned muscular braves. Loin clothes, tanned skin and piercing eyes. The pride and carriage of the native women. The working and learning together, all the months of hardship.
All the same thoughts of the men. To these, in their minds, wild savage women. Each a mystery until herself. Perhaps there were clumsy attempts at seduction. Even forced attentions of one on the other. At the same time cautious of the watchful eyes from the men of the tribe. Curious of the newcomers intentions. All this culminating into that first feast, that first thanksgiving. That actual first out of control office party. Bringing together two diverse groups with food, music, stories and alcohol.
Thanks would be given, prayers said. Tokens of welcome and trust, exchanged. A meal laid out on large tables. The much looked forward to day, would become evening. Entertainment of musical instruments and dances. The english women mesmerized by the shouts and energy of the male dancers. The brave few that would vanish away into a hidden lovers meet, with these enticing noble savages. Women who until now, only knew the duty of procreational missionary sex. Now were introduced to the joys of the flesh. Knowing now, men who would last more than the english standard of three and one half minutes. Oral acts that were only the tales of stories. Thoughts never acted on, became the spur of the moment. The woman who had gagged at the taste of her mans semen, now pleasantly surprised by a sweet taste. Not the taste of an european dieted on whiskey, meat and tobacco.
This brewed alcohol would lower the guard and trust of more than one native girl. Along with the inhibitions of the Mayflower Men. Women would throw themselves into numerous positions. Leaving their new lovers bewildered, to the shrill screams of reached orgasmic delight. The men confused to the sight of a woman "enjoying?" sex. Having known only uneducated village whores. Who were too ill raised to know proper women did not respond to the mans privilege. Or women possessed by the devil, who would struggle during the act. Moaning, controlled by Satan. Now each beautiful raven haired mistress was riding a fragile white skinned man into a heap of exhaustion.
To have been there, history for the taking. Stripping of her doubts, with her clothes, any thought of holding back sexually. Puritanical women unleashed of their hesitation. Grinding entwined bodies finding one ejaculation after the next. Mouths, lips searching for one more wet kiss. The cover of romance novels come to life. Dark phallic penetration of some young pale maiden. Herself never knowing the want inside her own body. These docile creatures who would writhe, eyes rolled and call upon their maker. Holding onto the man as if drowning in deep water.
Time after time of these joys, these women were then lying together, peacefully. Their arms around each other. The same as they had begun to kiss one another. With the need, they had sought out the man among them. This was a new. Women who found lust in each other. They would now leave to return to their people. Before the worried came looking for the missing. Dressed and away. Seeing them back to the tree line of the encampments. Each women fearful of what her own man would say or do. They insist on returning to the others as if nothing happened.
When upon returning to the river, I find the husband of one of the women. He has been drinking of their brewed drink. A drink that I find pleasant yet strong. He is the one called Miles, Miles Long. Much taller and larger than myself. It is with a easy tongue that he sets about his story. The wife that he is not happy with. A marriage of families. To begin in this new land. I know of this woman. We did lay together. She is the one who was most like our women. As if she had never been with a man before. He talks, and drinks filled with sorrow. I too, drink more of their drink.
He looks at me as if to say. She has had another. I walk to the running water, my face needing the cold stream. Hands grip my shoulders pushing my face beneath the waters. There is no air. Only breathing water. Choking, I am pulled to the dry ground. "It was you, it was you and her" He pulls the musket pistol from his belt. Aims at my chest, the man wipes tears from his eyes. I dive into him. We fall fighting for the musket gun. Fists, elbows, shouts. My mind is still not clear from the drink. A fist to the back of my head. The gun is lying away from us.
His hands circle my throat, squeezing. The man curses, he weeps. I am dragged to the water, face forced beneath. After the land spinning from his drink and the water in my chest, I am no more an opponent. My face is pulled upward to air. I cut at him with my blade. I am dazed. The person I cut is not there. He is more than one. A painful blow fells me backward. I look to the shore across the water. A hand yanks me backward by my hair. A fist in the back of my neck makes lights in the sky. "She was with you. I saw it. You and your customs. Your customs mean nothing"
I'm thrown to the ground. The man towers over me, his tall black boots to either side of my body. Reaching down, pulling me up to hit me with force. Slammed again to the hard ground. His black buckled belt is pulled from his waist. I'm thrashed over and over. The skin of my chest, back, arms burns from his whipping. The belt is twisted about my neck. I'm lifted in the air. My face to his. "She never wanted me, nor I her" Struggling, choking. "If she is your woman, then so be it. You have bested me. She is again yours" I fall crawling unable to breathe. I'm lead like an animal by his belt. It's pulled tight. Day begins to turn to night. I see him removing his black clothing. "It was never her I wanted. She has not what I need in a wife"
I'm now his captive. Drunken, beaten. My loin cloth torn off, used to bind my hands. My face shoved into the water. Miles hairy arms hold me in place. I'm drowning, coughing and gagging. He drags me to a fallen tree. My legs are flung apart. Lashed over a tree log by his belt. I struggle in vain. The large man takes me like the lowest squaw. His fat fingers dig into my naked ass. The pain stops just short of a scream in my throat. The heat of his fucking sickens me. My long black silky hair wound in his fist. I feel like the dogs, I see mating for all the world to know. Everything I have eaten come back out of my mouth. He pounds into me with more anger. I fight against the bonds that hold me in place. He curses, grunting with each thrust. They call us the savages.
He mumbles words I don't understand. His mouth bites at my back. In his fever, he pulls the belt tighter. Barely able to breathe, chest burning. My cock swells, I will not beg. My legs tremble. My heart pounds. My struggle stops. Eyes half open. I'm whispering words, my ancestors would curse me for. This stranger, their strange ways. What he is doing to me. Is like the hurt and the good are the same. I know the heart now of a squaw. I want him to stop and I don't. The sweat from his face drips down my back. Foreign words pour from his mouth, his juice pours into my ass. The belt pulls from my neck. I cum so hard, my heart feels to stop and start again. His hand milks me like an animal. I collapse lying against the tree, struggling to stand. Trying to keep his hands on me.
This powerful man unties my hands. At first I feel the shame of woman taken in battle. I want to cut his throat in hate. He kneels takes my cock in his hands, rubbing stroking. Stabs my knife into the tree next to me. I look at the knife weakly. Juice gushes freely from me, I moan forgetting the blade. He grasps the back of my neck. Stands over me, puts the knife in my hand. His cock in my face. "You have the knife, what now?" I reach for his penis confused, still drunken from the alcohol and his brutal attack. He lifts me quickly, so quickly my head spins.
His cock larger than mine. His much stronger body conquers me. I'm bear hugged. His hands roughly open the cheeks of my ass. His fingers rubbing, searching. I drop the knife, as I cum one last time. He releases me and I slide to the ground. One arm around his thigh. Face to his naked leg. He grasps his cock. Whips my face with it. "You are what I want. You beaten naked animal. You will meet me here again. When I say!" My eyes a sleepy haze, I nod and answer. "Yes"
The white skinned man walks away. Lighting one of their rolled leaves and smoking it. Leaving me lying naked on the ground. My face in my hands in shame. Wanting and waiting for him to take me again.
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