Thursday, April 21, 2011

Westboro Baptist freaks, ghetto entrepreneurs, nuke the Middle East. . .

A hodgepodge of stuff today, just because it's there. . .

Westboro Baptist freaks chased out of town


First, back to our old friends The Phelps Gang. Someone sent me this video of a warm and loving reception they received somewhere up in the northeast. This is thoroughly enjoyable viewing, and short enough that you don't even need to run to the microwave to make popcorn.


Next time, maybe the protesters will use rocks the size of Shirley Phelps' ass, although it would take several men to lift that size of rock. Just saying, though. . .

Here, some patriots in one of my favorite states in the nation, Missouri, show up and basically tell the Phelps Phreaks to stick it up their backsides.



But here's my favorite, just e-mailed to me by some friends in southern Mississippi. For the record, I have always loved Mississippi and came within a cat's whisker of taking a job there back in the late 90's.

This is from an Ole Miss sports message board:

A couple of days before, one of them (Westboro protestors) ran his mouth at a Brandon gas station and got his arse waxed. Police were called and the beaten man could not give much of a description of who beat him. When they canvassed the station and spoke to the large crowd that had gathered around, no one seemed to remember anything about what had happened.

Rankin County handled this thing perfectly. There were many things that were put into place that most will never know about and at great expense to the county.

Most of the morons never made it out of their hotel parking lot. It seems that certain Rankin county pickup trucks were parked directly behind any car that had Kansas plates in the hotel parking lot and the drivers mysteriously disappeared until after the funeral was over. Police were called but their wrecker service was running behind and it was going to be a few hours before they could tow the trucks so the Kansas plated cars could get out.

A few made it to the funeral but were ushered away to be questioned about a crime they might have possibly been involved in. Turns out, after a few hours of questioning, that they were not involved and they were allowed to go on about their business.

God Bless Mississippi!

And one more time, a plug for some of the toughest, most disciplined Americans I'll ever meet--the Patriot Guard Riders.

I'm not sure I could do what they do when these Phelps Phreaks show up. Burn or stomp on my flag, mock or spit at my fellow veterans, and you'll probably get the exact response out of me you're looking for--but you're going to get a helluva lot more of that response than you counted on or bargained for.



A New Orleans entrepreneur


Now, this is a real obit apparently taken from the New Orleans paper in 2004 or 2005. It came to me, several times, in e-mails with "entrepreneur" taking a different meaning. The latest version of e-mails and internet rounds have "entrepreneur" being that this career welfare waste-product spawned nine illegitimate kids, and thus, was able to collect a buttload of welfare money.

Well, ol' Larmondo "Flair" isn't alone in that entrepreneurship, especially down in the Big Easy where welfare schemes have been perfected beyond perfection. The dollar amounts claimed vary from e-mail to e-mail, but I don't think anyone doubts that there wasn't some serious welfare bank being paid out to this human family of ooze.

My interpretation of "entrepreneur" is more in line with that of some of my old cop buddies--Larmondo was a drug-dealer. "Entrepreneur" is a euphemism amongst the parasites and race-baiting apologetic black ministers that is often used to cover up the true illegitimate cash-generating activities of shit-stains like "Flair."

Good riddance, no loss to decent society.


Just nuke the Middle East and let's be done with it.

But seriously, what more do I need to say?

After reading this story from Reuters, Saudi slashes oil output; says market oversupplied I'm ready to go find an FAA designated pilot examiner and get my type rating for either B-1 Lancers, B-2 Spirits or hell, I'll even gladly drive the proven B-52s over to the Middle East and start turning it into a nuclear wasteland.

To ensure that the regions stays a wasteland, I'd like to strap on each nuke a Washington liberal who bitches and moans every time anyone suggests that maybe we drill our OWN oil in our OWN country so we don't have to rely on these raghead sons of bitches for our economy.

I'd then call those nukes with the likes of the Kenyan imposter and the Delaware Dumbass strapped to them "not-so-smart bombs."

After all, anything goes over there, right?

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