Sunday, July 31, 2011

A man who takes his leaks sitting down.

I've read, re-read, and then re-read again this story from the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.

I still don't believe it.

It seems a 220-pound person who poses as a Texas male, Dale Fout, who describes himself as "I'm a pretty big guy. I'm broad. I'm not fat. Used to play football" had his neck savagely injured by a monstrously vicious 136-pound petite female from Richmond, Virginia.

How did this happen, you ask?

She tapped him on the neck at a movie theater. With her finger.

So what precipitated this ruthless whiplash-inducing neck-tapping, you ask?

The inconsiderate son of a bitch wouldn't leave his damned cell phone alone--and the glare from his texting was bothering other patrons.

So this little southern girl reaches over, taps the big he-man on the side of his neck to get his attention, and suddenly, Mr. Dale "I'm a pretty big guy. I'm broad. I'm not fat. Used to play football" Fout leaps out of his seat as though he'd peed all over himself, and starts claiming assault. Then he claims injury. To his neck.

He manages to stagger outside and demand emergency medical personnel be called, as well as the local police (and no, I'm not making this up--it's all in the linked story) and complains of whiplash and neck trauma. He then insists on having assault charges filed on the 136-pound woman visiting from Virginia.

What a pussy.

I've received several e-mails with Fout's facebook profile, his LinkedIn profile (apparently Mr. He Man With Savaged Neck is an "advertising consultant" in the Dallas/Fort Worth area) and his Twitter twat picture. I'm not going to post them, but you can google 'Dale Fout' and find all that stuff yourself.

Now, about his medical condition. . .

I'm no doctor, but I think I can precisely pinpoint Mr. "I'm a pretty big guy. I'm broad. I'm not fat. Used to play football" Fout's medical problem:

He has a vagina where his testicles should be.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

A tale of two vasectomies

A man goes into the hospital for a vasectomy. Before the procedure a very attractive nurse comes in and takes his vitals, then tells him to take all of his clothes off.

When he is fully undressed she instructs him to lie down on the table. The man obeys.

The nurse then takes all of her clothes off and climbs on top and has her way with him.

Upon the completion of the act the man catches his breath and asks what that was all about.

The nurse informs the patient that studies have shown that before a vasectomy if the man has an ejaculation, he will be more relaxed and that the vasectomy is easier for the surgeon to locate and sever, thereby making the surgery safer, more efficient and quicker.

The nurse then wheels the patient to the operating room. While they are going down the hall the patient looks through a window to the right and sees six men in a room masturbating.

Curious, the man asks,"What are they doing in there"?

The nurse responds, "They are getting vasectomies too, but you have Blue Cross
and they have Obama Care.."

Foggy Mountain Breakdown. An All-Star lineup plays it like you've never heard it before.

I started my musical noise-making at age five by covering the tops of Folger coffee cans with varying thicknesses of Elmer's Glue and using aluminum pie tins, cut to appropriate sizes, as cymbals.

Our family has a long history of actual musicianship, with many accomplished and published players, composers and pickers. From sitting on the porch of my maternal grandparents' house during the dog-days of summer and listening to my grandpa blow the French Harp (that's harmonica to you northerners) and various cousins work the squeezebox (accordion) and strum guitars and saw on fiddles, music passed the time when weather was such in Knox County, Texas that didn't allow us to tune in to the Grand Old Opry or the Louisiana Hay Ride.

On my paternal grandparents' side, the playing was a bit more formal and refined. My grandfather was one of six boys, all of whom played one instrument or another and who were popular for barn dances--especially at harvest time. The three girls in the family sang and with voices that would make angels swoon.

So with that history well entrenched, it didn't take too long for my incessant banging on the glue-lid Folgers drum set before my dad broke down and bought me my first guitar. It's been a love affair since and for almost five decades.

Playing in bands helped me pay bills while in college, and more importantly, it helped me overcome some of my natural shyness with those curvy, attractive young things of the opposite glandular gender.

Something about smoky bars in the South and watching a pair of tight jeans two-step and Cotton-Eye Joe and twist and contort the melodies and rhythms of your beloved Les Paul or Stratocaster.

As such, I've always had a deep appreciation for music performed live over that carefully arranged and performed and engineered in a studio.

Which brings me to this astounding rendition of Foggy Mountain Breakdown. The cast of players is legend. The playing is moving.

See who you recognize in this All-Star lineup of legendary players.

Who can you recognize and name in this lineup?

Friday, July 29, 2011

Two Cajun pilots.

Two Cajun hunters from Lafayette, La. hired a bush pilot to fly them from Montreal to a bush camp in Northern Ontario to hunt moose. They bagged four.

As they started loading the float plane for the return trip home, the pilot tells them the plane can take only two moose. They objected strongly, saying in their Cajun drawl, "Last year we shoot four moose, and the pilot he say he let us put dem all on board, and he gots the same plane as you." Reluctantly, the pilot gave in thinking if the other bush pilot could do it, so could he. The Cajuns gear, rifles, and all four field dressed moose were tucked aboard in every available space, hindquarters strapped to the floats, and front shoulders hung from the wing struts.

The boys squeezed themselves into their seats and put the seat belts on.
Unfortunately, even at full power and a long takeoff run across a glassy calm lake, the little float plane couldn't handle the load and crashed into the trees a few seconds after takeoff. Climbing out of the wreck, Boudreaux asked Thibodeaux, "Boy, you got any idee where we at?" Thibodeaux looked around some and then slowly replied, "I think we pretty darn close to where we crash last year."

* * * * *

Thibodeaux & Boudreaux were working in maintanence for an airline at an airport in Baton Rouge. It was so overcast and thick not a plane was moving, and they were bored to distraction. Boudreaux says, "Hey Thibodeaux, you hear dis airplane gas get you high?" Thibodeaux says, " Non, non, I tink maybe get you a little sick, eh?"

Boudreaux says, "I don hear that. I tink it maybe a lie. Let's try it ami!" So Boudreaux & Thibodeaux have themselves what turns into a pretty good time and end up drunk as can be. Sometime the next morning Thibodeaux wakes up to the phone ringing, and is amazed he's at home in bed, not remembering much of anything after an hour spent swilling that jet fuel.

Wishing he was dead he leans over and picks up the phone and groans. It's Boudreaux, and he says excitedly, " Hey mon ami, you farted yet dis mornin'?" Ole Thibodeaux thinks a moment and says he doesn't think so. Boudreaux says, "DON'T, cause I'm in PHOENIX!

Buy this cop a beer.

Not long ago, I posted a story about one of the sorriest instances of police conduct I've ever seen in my half-plus century of roaming this earth.

It happened in Canton, Ohio, where it appears the City Council head-guy, Allen Schulman, is every bit as big of a prick as the psycho officer who garnered all the attention to the host city of the NFL's Pro Football Hall of Fame.

A few days later, one of my favorite bloggers (Lagniappe's Lair) posted a story about one of the classiest instances of police conduct I've ever seen. It happened in Oceanside, California.

The roles between the incident in Canton and the one in Oceanside were polar opposites.

The factor that joins them is the Second Amendment.

One police force, by the example given by one of their officers, has no use for it.

The other police force, not only observes it, but respects it.

Who woulda thought?

I mean, when I was in that line of work, we had to swear an Oath to protect and defend the Constitution. I don't recall any loopholes or passages that allowed us to exclude the Second Amendment (or the First, or the Fourth, or the Fifth, etc).

The irony here is that the psycho cop in Canton professes to be an ex-Marine, and the cop in Oceanside states he is a 22-year veteran and retired Marine.

In Canton, we have a citizen trying to be a nice guy and a cop being an ass. In Oceanside, we have a gun-owner being an absolute ass and the cop being a nice guy.

Officer Matt Lyons, of the Oceanside PD, comes across some asshat who decides his name is "Jeremy" and who is open-carrying a 40 S&W firearm, unloaded as per California's law on open-carry, simply to try and bait a police officer into a controversial situation so he can post his "hidden video" on YouTube.

What a bunch of class-A bullshit.

Note to Jeremy: You're an asshole. It is assholes like you who do more to us law-abiding gun-owners and make things harder, not easier, to bridge the gap between law enforcement and the populace.

In the video, posted below--and with HUGE kudos and thanks to Murphy's Law, the author and owner of several outstanding blogs--the whole world can see that the police officer who approaches "Jeremy" is nothing but non-confrontational, polite, professional, but also prepared.

When the conversation starts, "Jeremy" is immediately an asshole. He continues to state "he doesn't have to offer any identification or even tell the officer his name."

Another note to Jeremy: You're a United States citizen. While we have rights, we also have DUTIES. One of those duties is to NOT make things any harder on our police or firemen or other emergency personnel by playing your silly-assed games and hiding behind a YouTube camera hoping to go viral and make a few bucks or get your fifteen-minutes of Andy Warhol fame.

And by the way, Jeremy, I doubt anyone reading this or watching the video believes you were a Marine. I'd believe you were a pissant, and still are, but no, not a U.S. Marine.

Why? Because you don't know jackshit about mutual respect with another Marine or veteran. You're interaction with Officer Lyons shows the world you were never a Marine or veteran of any kind.

So what we have is an agitator, of the type we defenders of the Second Amendment don't need, squaring off with an Oceanside police officer.

To Officer Lyons, I say this: Thank you for your service to our country and thank you for your quiet, professional defense of our Constitution and the Bill of Rights. This veteran absolutely appreciates men and women like yourself who continue to serve our society and our nation.
To Jeremy, there isn't much left to say. Murphy's Law says it best in his post on this subject where he tells you to grow up and get some maturity.

As it stands now, Jeremy, you're a disgrace to law-abiding gun owners everywhere.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Norwegian wrestler does the impossible.

(Just for the fun of it--and please do not have any liquids in your mouth while you are facing the monitor and/or keyboard.)

A Russian and a Norwegian wrestler (just happened to be named Ole) were set to square off for the Olympic Gold medal. Before the final match, the Norwegian wrestling coach came to Ole and said, "Now, don't forget all the research we've done on this Russian. He's never lost a match because of this 'pretzel' hold he has. Whatever you do, do not let him get you in that hold! If he does, you're finished. Ole nodded in acknowledgment.

As the match started, Ole and the Russian circled each other several times, looking for an opening. All of a sudden, the Russian lunged forward, grabbing Ole and wrapping him up in the dreaded pretzel hold. A sigh of disappointment arose from the crowd and the coach buried his face in his hands, for he knew all was lost. He couldn't watch the inevitable happen.

Suddenly, there was a scream, then a cheer from the crowd and the coach raised his eyes just in time to watch the Russian go flying up in the air. His back hit the mat with a thud and Ole collapsed on top of him making the pin and winning the match.

The crowd went crazy. The coach was astounded. When he finally got his wrestler alone, he asked, "How did you ever get out of that hold? No one has ever done it before!" Ole answered, "Vell, I vas ready to give up ven he got me in dat hold, but at da last moment, I opened my eyes and saw dis pair of testicles right in front of my face. I had nuttin' to lose so wid my last ounce of strength I stretched out my neck and bit dose babies just as hard as I could."

So the trainer exclaimed, "That's what finished him off!"

"Vel not really. You'd be amazed how strong you get ven you bite your own testicles!"

A drunk steals--and FLIES--a private plane.

That would be the scenario most frightening to a lot of people.

In a great show of aviation and airmanship, with just a little bit of showmanship, a Delta Airlines pilot rushes out of the crowd and into a Piper Cub and away he goes.

The flying is remarkable, the laughs are genuine and what a great time.

Sometimes we all need a little something or the other to smile at.


Another muslim Army soldier arrested for trying to kill his fellow soldiers.

I don't want to hear about this "peaceful religion" bullshit that passes for Islam.

I also don't want to hear about the strong "loyalties" of soldiers, sailors and airmen allegedly of the Muslim faith.

I'll repeat that again: I. Do. Not. Want. To. Hear. About. It. Period.

Yes, I'm a veteran and I'll tell you right now if I were still in, and on active duty, I would not fight along side a Muslim soldier.

Not given the track record of Muslim soldiers as of late.

The latest piece of shit to betray his fellow soldiers is a little 21-year-old goat-lover, Pfc. Nasser Jason Abdo, who was arrested by police in Killeen (Texas) today.

He allegedly told police he wanted to do harm to soldiers at Fort Hood and civilians in the Killeen area.

We haven't even begun the real trial work of another raghead Islamic POS, Major Nidal Hasan for murdering fellow soldiers and wounding more, plus civilians at Fort Hood--and now we have another asshole who bows to the west and sucks Mohammed's dick in the name of "Islam" trying to do the same thing.

Kick every goddamned Muslim out of the military today. Kick them out of the country.

Not fair? Not Christian? Not American?

Well that's just tough shit.

Either the Muslims in this country can start playing ball and keeping control over their fanatical zealous suicide-bombers-in-waiting, or get the hell out of here. Period.

Either the Muslims in our country can start raising holy hell with the imams and allahs and other prophets of bullshit about stopping this crap about Sharia law and other Muslim nonsense, or get the hell out of here.

All we, America, are to Muslims is geographic opportunity. That's all. They, the Muslims, don't give a rat's ass about our Constitution (except for when they can prostitute it to their own means and ends), our way of life or what we stand for.

We're nothing more than another land mass with over 200-million dumb-as-sheep sheople willing to be led around by the nose while they (Muslims) take over and enslave "all non-believers" as their roll of toilet paper disguised as a holy book (Koran) instructs.

Screw them.

And as far as the little asswipe arrested today? Drop Nasser Abdo off at Fort Bragg, or even back to Fort Campbell where the little conscientious objector has been AWOL from for the past three weeks.

Oh, did I not mention earlier that Abdo has been granted "conscientious objector" status--yet he's willing to kill his fellow AMERICAN/CHRISTIAN soldiers in the name of Islam?

He needs a blanket party. One that goes to the very end.

Animal rights activists tangle with outlaw motorcyle gang over the wearing of leather.

(I'm not sure of origin of this, but it is pure genius and too good to not continue passing around.)

Activists Missing After Declaring “War on Leather” at Motorcycle Rally

Johnstown, PA (GlossyNews) – Local and state police scoured the hills outside rural Johnstown, Pennsylvania, after reports of three animal rights activists going missing after attempting to protest the wearing of leather at a large motorcycle gang rally this weekend. Two others, previously reported missing, were discovered by fast food workers “duct taped inside several fast food restaurant dumpsters,” according to police officials.

“Something just went wrong,” said a still visibly shaken organizer of the protest. “Something just went horribly, horribly, wrong.”

The organizer said a group of concerned animal rights activist groups, “growing tired of throwing fake blood and shouting profanities at older women wearing leather or fur coats,” decided to protest the annual motorcycle club event “in a hope to show them our outrage at their wanton use of leather in their clothing and motor bike seats.” “In fact,” said the organizer, “motorcycle gangs are one of the biggest abusers of wearing leather, and we decided it was high time that we let them know that we disagree with them using it…ergo, they should stop.”

According to witnesses, protesters arrived at the event in a vintage 1960’s era Volkswagen van and began to pelt the gang members with balloons filled with red colored water, simulating blood, and shouting “you’re murderers” to passers by. This, evidently, is when the brouhaha began.

“They peed on me!!!” charged one activist. “They grabbed me, said I looked like I was French, started calling me ‘La Trene’, and duct taped me to a tree so they could pee on me all day!”

“I…I was trying to show my outrage at a man with a heavy leather jacket, and he…he didn’t even care. I called him a murderer, and all he said was, ‘You can’t prove that.’ Next thing I know he forced me to ride on the back of his motorcycle all day, and would not let me off, because his girl friend was out of town and I was almost a woman.”

Still others claimed they were forced to eat hamburgers and hot dogs under duress. Those who resisted were allegedly held down while several bikers “farted on their heads.”

Police officials declined comments on any leads or arrests due to the ongoing nature of the investigation, however, organizers for the motorcycle club rally expressed “surprise” at the allegations.

“That’s preposterous,” said one high-ranking member of the biker organizing committee. “We were having a party, and these people showed up and were very rude to us. They threw things at us, called us names, and tried to ruin the entire event. So, what did we do? We invited them to the party! What could be more friendly than that? You know, just because we are all members of motorcycle clubs does not mean we do not care about inclusiveness. Personally, I think it shows a lack of character for them to be saying such nasty things about us after we bent over backwards to make them feel welcome.”

When confronted with the allegations of force-feeding the activists meat, using them as ad hoc latrines, leaving them incapacitated in fast food restaurant dumpsters, and ‘farting on their heads,’ the organizer declined to comment in detail. “That’s just our secret handshake,” assured the organizer.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Pimp justice.

I just want to be left alone. That's all.

Reclusive is a word that describes me better and better as I grow older. My wife says "meaner" is another word that fits me with each advancing year.

Not so sure about that one. "Less tolerant of BS" is perhaps a better description.

Of the things in the world, however, that I have always hated, anyone who purposefully, intentionally abuses women, children and animals has always been at the top of the list.

Which brings us to pimps.

I hate pimps. With a passion. They are nothing more than human cockroaches scurrying the streets and inner-city passage ways of our great nation. They are abusive to their women, sometimes to the point of being fatal. Women are simply a commodity to them, that's all.

The fact that shit-ass gangster rappers adulate pimps is one of a number of reasons why I have no use for gangster rappers. Or gangsters.

But sometimes justice does rear its head, and in the most delightful, outstanding of ways.

Watch the video. It's only a minute or so long and is an actual news story. It will be one of the best minutes you've ever spent in your entire life.

It doesn't get much better than that. It just doesn't.

Poster children for eliminating all welfare

These two human pieces of sewage are perfect examples of why hard-working, tax-paying Americans are fed up with the present welfare system.

I'll also bet you these two parasites are big Obama fans.

After all, he promised them exactly what Judge Judy came out and said she has no choice to but pay, through her taxes.

I'm not a Judge Judy fan, having never watched her. But after seeing this video clip, I may have to change my thinking.

She nails the issue when she says, "I'm going to send this tape to Congress."

I hope she does send this tape to Congress.

But better than Congress, this video clip needs to be seen by every single taxpaying American. It's about time we see what this money we're being extorted for is being wasted on.

That's right. I said "wasted."

Watch the video. I rest my case.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

A urinal too high. . .

A group of 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders, accompanied by two female teachers, went on a field trip to the local racetrack , (Churchill Downs) to learn about thoroughbred horses and the supporting industry (Bourbon), but mostly to see the horses.

When it was time to take the children to the bathroom, it was decided that the girls would go with one teacher and the boys would go with the other. The young teacher assigned to the boys was waiting outside the men's room when one of the boys came out and told her that none of them could reach the urinal.

Having no choice, she went inside, helped the boys with their pants, and began hoisting the little boys up one by one, holding on to their 'wee-wees' to direct the flow away from their clothes.

As she lifted one, she couldn't help but notice that he was unusually well endowed. Trying not to show that she was staring the teacher said, 'You must be in the 5th grade.'

'No, ma'am', he replied. 'I'm riding Silver Arrow in the seventh race, but I sure appreciate your help.'

Monday, July 25, 2011

Man accidentally shoots himself in the testicles.

(Another from the "you can't make this stuff up" bag.)

I was browsing through some archives on the computer and came across this story.

On one hand, it's funny as hell. On another, it's pathetic. And if you had a third hand, you might consider it poetic justice.

But this is what can happen if you just shove your gun, unholstered and in "unknown battery or condition" down the front of your pants.

Seems a real Darwin Award candidate was browsing the aisles at his local Lowe's home improvement store when his little crotch popper went off.

I found it hilarious that the police spokesperson, a woman no less, used the words "accidental discharge" to describe what happened to the man.

But even funnier than the story are the readers' comments on the story. There are some real comedians reading that newspaper.

I'll give you fair warning right now--do not eat or drink anything while reading the story and especially the comments.

That's all I'm gonna say.

Two girls in a box.

If only I were so limber. . .

This is beyond amazing.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

The Three-Eyed Monster--a home-invader's worst nightmare.

(Sent to me by a good friend, great shooting buddy and retired U.S. Marine who did two tours in Vietnam and came home with a chest full of medals including a Bronze Star and Purple Heart.

If you own a gun, you will appreciate this. If not, you should get one and learn how to use it.

• Shooting Advice: Cops carry guns to protect themselves, not to protect you.

• Never let someone or thing that threatens you get inside arm’s length and never say "I’ve got a gun".

• If you feel you need to use deadly force for heaven’s sake let the "first sound they hear be the safety clicking off", and they shouldn't have time to hear anything after that if you are doing your job.

• The average response time of a 911 call is over 23 minutes… the response time of a .44 magnum is 1400 feet per second.

Clint Smith, Director of Thunder Ranch, is a drill instructor (Thunder Ranch is a firearms training facility in Oregon ). Here are a few of his observations on tactics, firearms, self-defense and life as we know it in the civilized world.

"The most important rule in a gunfight is: Always win and cheat if necessary."

"Don't forget, incoming fire has the right of way.."

"Make your attacker advance through a wall of bullets. You may get killed with your own gun, but he'll have to beat you to death with it, cause it's going to be empty."

"If you're not shooting', you should be loading'. If you're not loading', you should be moving', if you're not moving', someone's going to cut your head off and put it on a stick."

"When you reload in low light encounters, don't put your flashlight in your back pocket.. If you light yourself up, you'll look like an angel or the tooth fairy... and you're going to be one of 'em pretty soon."

"Do something. It may be wrong, but do something."

"Shoot what's available, as long as it's available, until something else becomes available."

"If you carry a gun, people will call you paranoid. That's ridiculous. If you have a gun, what in the hell do you have to be paranoid for?"

"Don't shoot fast, unless you also shoot good."

"You can say 'stop' or 'alto' or use any other word you think will work, but I've found that a large bore muzzle pointed at someone's head is pretty much the universal language."

"You have the rest of your life to solve your problems.. How long you live depends on how well you do it."

"You cannot save the planet, but you may be able to save yourself and your family."

"Thunder Ranch will be here as long as you'll have us or until someone makes us go away, and either way, it will be exciting."

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Put this cop's ass in JAIL. NOW, damnit!

Incidents like this one make me ashamed of the fact that I ever worked in law enforcement.

And I can thank a couple of pricks with guns and badges in Canton, Ohio for that.

The video I'm posting here will go nuclear.

In it, there is a cop with the Canton, Ohio Police Department who comes up behind a car legally parked on the street, orders an occupant out, and immediately begins disparaging the man. Doesn't matter to me that the cops are white and the two people the main meathead cop hassles are black.

The meathead then gets the driver out, who has a lawful concealed carry license and TRIES to immediately tell the Nazi-cop that HE HAS ONE--but the cop keeps interrupting and telling him to shut up.

The law, in Ohio, requires the holder of a CHL to promptly notify an officer that he/she has a CHL. The driver of the car in the video tries to do EXACTLY THAT, but the meathead is too full of himself and strutting around acting like the badass to bother LISTENING to the very citizens who rights he's shredding and then crapping all over.

Watch the video and decide for yourself. Is this muscle-head military commando wannabe prick what we need, or want, patrolling the streets of Anytown, America?

I'm sick and tired of this kind of abuse under color of authority.

I would hope that OTHER police officers in Canton will speak up about this guy. Yet, my gut tells me that the infamous "Code of Silence" will prevail, and the brother officers will form a protective circle around this mutt and offer up the usual " Civilians don't know what we go through on a daily basis" and "We never know when some crazy with a gun is going to. . ."

Spare me.

I've not only heard it all before, but I've also lived back in the days when I was in that line of work for Uncle Sam. There is ZERO excuse for this asshat's behavior or attitude.


The mayor of Canton is William J. Healey. He can be reached at: (330) 438-4307 or you can send him a direct note here.

Here is the Canton City Council's page and information and how to contact them.

Mike DeWine is the Attorney General for the State of Ohio. Contact him here.

And if the Canton Police Department's rank and file do not speak out against this "fellow officer" then they deserve the contempt that will come their way.

This is another very clear example where the creed of "Physician, heal thy self" is perfectly appropriate.

To the police: While you're ostensibly "cleaning up our streets," try cleaning up your own backyards as well.

In fact, try doing that first.

Thursday, July 21, 2011

360 degree panoramic view of space shuttle's flight deck

OK, pilots and non-pilots, this is cool.
I still remember the Gemini and Apollo space programs.

Back then, the idea of putting a "flying machine" in space that could fly back to earth, land on a paved surface and under its own power was the stuff science fiction was made of.

Of course, back then lasers, wireless telephones (cell phones/flip phones like Nextel) and other things were considered science fiction as well.

Today, you can buy a laser pointer pen at your local Walgreens for around five bucks, and everyone who walks upright has seen the Nextel radio phones--similar to what the Star Trek guys used in the very first original episodes.

Here is a cool 360 degree panoramic view of the Space Shuttle Discovery's flight deck.

What a great program. What an idiot we have in the Oval Office to kill this program.

Reflections on beer.

Since we're in the middle of a heat wave, this seemed appropriate.

Sometimes when I reflect on all the beer I drink, I feel ashamed. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. I think, "It is better to drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver."
Babe Ruth

"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day."
Lyndon B. Johnson

"When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading."
Paul Horning
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case. Coincidence?
I think not."
H. L.. Mencken

"When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, we fall asleep. When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. So, let's all get drunk and go to heaven!"
George Bernard Shaw

"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."
Benjamin Franklin

"Without question, the greatest invention in the history of mankind is beer. Oh, I grant you that the wheel was also a fine invention, but the wheel does not go nearly as well with pizza."
Dave Barry

W. C. Fields

Remember "I" before "E," except in Budweiser.
Professor Irwin Corey

To some it's a six-pack, to me it's a Support Group - Salvation in a can!
Leo Durocher

One night at Cheers, Cliff Clavin explained the" Buffalo Theory" to his buddy Norm:

"Well, ya see, Norm, it's like this. A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members! ; In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first.. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine! That's why you always feel smarter after a few beers."

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Two faced bastards.

I've got an appointment to put some new tires on my full-size Chevy extended cab pickup truck this Friday morning.

Going back to Michelins. I'd boycotted just about everything French after 9/11, but now, ten years later, France has a decent and somewhat democratic and capitalism-minded president and we we have a stinking bed-wetting commie socialist blundering about our capitol.

So, the tires. I'd been using BF Goodrich Radial T/A's. Problem is, they're only rated for 50,000 miles and no matter what I did (air pressure, rotation, etc), I'd do good to even get 30,000 miles out of them.

I've never failed to get at least the rated miles out of a set of Michelins, so I'm going back to them.

I also got better fuel mileage with the Michelins. And with gas prices what they are, I'll take every break I can get.

Funny thing about gas prices these days versus just a few years ago back in 2008.

Back then, the gas prices were all George W. Bush's fault and proved the cronyism between him, Cheyney and their oil buddies.

This is a brief, yet excellent video presentation of the blatant, infuriating hypocrisy that exists with our Democrats and their lapdog, the media.

You might want to have some blood pressure medication handy afterward. Once again, I find myself reaching for the frosted mug and a longneck bottle of Coors Light.

Funny how back in 2008, the high gas prices were threatening to destroy our country and ruin our economy, yet today, are a blessing--and even saving lives!

What a bunch of typical bullshit from our media.

Caught in a lie.

A pilot gets home late..............

He left home about 8:30 a.m. to do some work in his hanger at the airport with his friends. On the way out the door he answered his wife's "what time will you be home?" question with "probably about 1:30, I'll have lunch at the airport."

1:30 came & went, 3:00 passed, 6:15, still not home, finally at about 7:00 pm he rolls in the driveway, and presents his wife with a pizza, and begins the apologetic story.

I finished cleaning the plane about 11:30, had lunch, and I started home, when alongside the road I saw this attractive girl with a flat tire on her car. I stopped to help, got the tire changed, and looked around for a place to wash my hands.

She offered money, but I refused, so she suggested that I at least allow her to buy me a beer. She said there's a tavern just up the road, and they have a restroom, you can clean up a bit. I agreed to stop, we had a beer, then another beer, then a couple more, and I realized that this girl was not only pretty, she was very friendly, and a good companion to spend time with.

Before I knew it, we were in the motel next door having sex. And that is why I am so late getting home.

His wife looked him right in the eye and said "don't bullshit me. . .


Monday, July 18, 2011

A rooster named Obama

(Found this in the e-mail box. It's perfect.)

John was in the egg business. He had several hundred young layers (hens), called 'pullets', and ten roosters to fertilize them. He kept records, and any rooster not performing went into the soup pot and was replaced.

This took a lot of time, so he bought some tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell had a different tone, so he could tell from a distance, which rooster was performing. Now, he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency report by just listening to the bells.

John's favorite rooster, Obama, was a very fine specimen, but this morning he noticed Obama's bell hadn't rung at all! When he went to investigate, he saw the other roosters were busy chasing pullets, bells-a-ringing, but the pullets, hearing the roosters coming, would run for cover.

To John's amazement, Obama had thought of a way to do it without work, he had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring. He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one.

John was so proud of Obama, he entered him in the Chicago County Fair and he became an overnight sensation among the judges.

The result was the judges not only awarded Obama the No Bell Piece Prize but they also awarded him the Pulletsurprise as well.

Clearly Obama was a politician. Who else but a politician could figure out how to win two of the most highly coveted awards on our planet by being the best at sneaking up on the populace and screwing them when they weren't paying attention.

Vote carefully in 2012, the bells are not always audible.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Her diary. His diary. Same day.

Her Diary:

Tonight, I thought my husband was acting weird.

We had made plans to meet at a nice restaurant for dinner. I was shopping with my friends all day long, so I thought he was upset at the fact that I was a bit late, but he made no comment on it. Conversation wasn't flowing, so I suggested that we go somewhere quiet so we could talk. He agreed, but he didn't say much. I asked him what was wrong; he said, 'Nothing.' I asked him if it was my fault that he was upset. He said he wasn't upset, that it had nothing to do with me, and not to worry about it.

On the way home, I told him that I loved him. He smiled slightly, and kept driving. I can't explain his behavior; I don't know why he didn't say, 'I love you, too.'

When we got home, I felt as if I had lost him completely, as if he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He just sat there quietly, and watched TV. He continued to seem
distant and absent. Finally, with silence all around us, I decided to go to bed.

About 15 minutes later, he came to bed. But I still felt that he was distracted, and his thoughts were somewhere else. He fell asleep -- I cried.

I don't know what to do. I'm almost sure that his thoughts are with someone else. My life is a disaster.

His Diary:

Boat wouldn't start; can't figure out why.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

I'm sick and damn tired of welfare cheats.

Son of a bitch.

I'm so mad right now that it wouldn't surprise me if my blood pressure is nearing stroke level. The irony of that would be that if I DID have a stroke and got rushed to the emergency room, I'd have to wait behind a bunch of goddamn illegals, medicaid parasites and other welfare cheats who were in for such life-threatening maladies like a sore throat or a sprained ankle.

Think I'm kidding? Head down to your nearest large city indigent care emergency room. Check out the human debris that litters the waiting area. Check out the trash and general mess they leave behind--which we pay for, all on our nickel.

Meanwhile, working citizens with insurance that we paid for out of our own pockets via our JOBS wait in line, unless perhaps you begin barfing or projectile bleeding all over some El Salvadorean immigrant in for a toothache, and thus inconvenience him or his perpetually pregnant girlfriend.

So, I'm drinking some blood pressure medication as I type this, also known as Coors Light, so as not to risk a trip to the local medical zoo. I keep several frosted mugs in the big freezer for just such emergencies.

But what got this rant really going was yet another experience at a pharmacy/drug-store this evening.

A young black woman in stylish cut-offs, high-heels and expensive blouse "hobbles" up to the counter to get her painkillers. I hear the cashier say, "No charge." The woman turns to her boyfriend, dressed like a New Orleans pimp, and says, "Ain't dis Medicaid great!"

I tell the cashier to put my prescription back so I can follow this couple up to the front of the store. The woman stopped to grab a handbasket full of box candy like you buy at the movie theater. Her pimp/boyfriend/squeeze/what-the-hell-ever goes over by where they keep the cold drinks and fills up his handbasket with Starbucks Frappaccino drinks--each one costing over $2.

Up to the head cash register they go and I get in line behind them with just a plain Coke.

I was curious about something, and I wasn't to be disappointed.

The female parasite fished around in a designer leather wallet until she found her food stamps card--known as an Electronic Benefits Transaction card, or EBT for short.

By the way, did you know these slugs can also get freaking CASH with these things?

The female parasite used her welfare card to buy her candy. As she was putting it back in her designer leather wallet, I saw an American Express Gold Card, two Platinum Visa cards, a Master Card, Discover Card and a host of department store cards. They weren't hard to see as the parasitic bitch made a point of flashing them to the cashier and those of us in line.


The pimp is next and buys his Starbucks with his OWN EBT CARD!

I so wanted to follow them out to the parking lot to see what kind of "ride" they were driving, courtesy of us taxpayers, but given the combination of my now extremely volatile mood, these assholes' cocky arrogant "urban hipster" attitude and posture, AND the fact that I am armed at all times, I (wisely) decided a trip to jail wasn't the best thing for me this Friday evening.

So I gritted my teeth and simply glared at these two piece of shit. The pimp looked at me funny and I bored a hole in him. All I saw was crosshairs right between his eyes. For the record, I am not a pretty guy to look at and early on in my federal law enforcement days, my partner's wife often joked about me definitely not having a "welcome wagon" face. Age has done nothing to soften that.

The pimp looked like he wanted to say something and I was silently BEGGING him to say something so that I could then say, "This piece of shit started the whole mess, your Honor."

I knew better, but even us middle-age guys are entitled to our fantasies now and then.

The two pieces of human shit left, and I asked the cashier why the hell didn't they ask for ID when food stamp frauds like that bought stuff.

"Against the law," she said.


Since WHEN is it against the law for a business merchant to ensure that the person giving them a goddamn GOVERNMENT ISSUED PAYMENT CARD is in fact the person entitled, strike that, wrong word, authorized to use it?

Of course, I also don't understand why U.S. citizens are not allowed to patrol our national borders armed to the teeth in order to repel borders and illegal invaders. Makes no damn sense to me.

The stupid, arrogant, fraudulent son of a bitch that poses as our president goes on tv and tells retirees and veterans, of which I'm one, that "he can't guarantee that those social security and veterans' checks will be issued."

But I'll guaran-damn-tee you that his piece of shit welfare cheat constituency will get their EBT cards and welfare cards and Section 8 housing allowances and medicaid and all the other bullshit he promised them.

Two words for you, Mr. President.

Two words. . .

Friday, July 15, 2011

"A grudge against the military?"

The subject is flag burning.

Nothing too unusual. After all, we see the crazed ragheads doing it all the time as soon as a gleeful and willing news crew, especially from the U.S., shows up.

Anywhere the U.S. military shows up to save some third-world shithole country's ass, there are flag-burnings in protest. Anytime anyone from the U.S. shows up, there are flag-burnings.

You know the routine: They prattle on about how evil all non-Muslims are, how peaceful and loving and tolerant Muslims are, then they produce an American flag, prattle on some more, then set it on fire then proceed to dance around like little rabid animals on crystal meth.

Yet they get pissed off if we want to burn or flush the Qur'an?

Flag burning is nothing new here in the U.S., I'm sorry to say. Spare me the BS about "freedom of speech." Most of us equate burning a flag with shouting "Fire!" in the proverbial crowded theater.

You're inciting a riot when you do that. If you want to incite a riot by burning the flag around me or my friends, you've come to the right place. A numbnuts bed-wetting pinko at Louisiana State University found himself in harm's way when he announced he was going to burn a flag. The student body literally chased this piece of crap off the campus.

If we had kids, LSU would be at the top of our list of colleges to consider.

But it seems there's been a new twist to desecrating the symbol of America, right here in America, albeit in New Jersey. . . Someone or some people are skulking around Roselle Park, New Jersey and burning flags while the homeowners are away or asleep.

This is a double whammy because the flags are on poles attached to homes.

I would call this attempted arson. I would also shoot some son of a bitch I caught trying to set my flag on fire on my property while it was attached to my house. In New Jersey, that would probably get me the electric chair or gas chamber.

In Texas, I'd probably have a day named after me.

In reading the story, I see where the police hypothesize that "the flag burnings could be the work of some kids on a dare, or someone with a grudge against the military."

What brilliant police work.

Sleep easy, Roselle, New Jersey, your police department is on the case.

MY kind of flash mob.

We're reading too much these days about the roving bands of minority punksters wreaking havoc in towns all across America--and calling themselves "flash mobs."

These kind of flash mobs are the reason we have high-capacity magazines for semi-automatic tools designed for personal safety and keeping the peace.

But here's a flash mob that gave me goose bumps and made me proud to be an American.

Probably the first time in my entire life I've ever thrown a salute towards Massachusetts.

Well done, marching band. Well done.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Former Hooters girl now lawmaker in Tennessee

I'm a Texan and other than Tennessee being in the South, should have no real interest in what goes on there.

But I do. And it revolves around a former Hooters girl and model who is now a lawmaker in Tennessee.

And she's catching hell for it.

I'm convinced there is a lot of tit-envy out there amongst the dogs of the mainstream media and liberal political act-up cesspools like and MediaMatters.

So when a young, 29-year-old former model and waitress at Hooters, who is college educated by the way--and worked at Hooters to help pay for that education--beats a NINE-TIME DEMOCRAT INCUMBENT, naturally the liberal, hypocritical alpha-hotels in the media and gossip circles have to go on the attack mode. Of course, this young professional woman is also a member of the National Rifle Association and Gun Owners of America.

And just like with Sarah Palin, the dirt was getting dug and add a little spittle to it and presto, mud.

Latest flap is that she "carved her initials" in her desk at the state legislature.

Big effing deal. I saw the photograph. Scratched is more like it; I'd hardly use the word "carved" to describe--

Wait a minute. These are (supposedly) schooled and professional journalists that are reporting this crime of the century. Shouldn't THEY know the difference between "carved" and "scratched?" And when you have headlines that intentionally lead readers to think that Ms. Hurley is a national representative rather than a state representative. . .

Excuse me, Mainstream Media. More of your bullshit bias is showing.

What little I know of Ms. Hurley, I like. I have no problem with her past employment at Hooters. Hooters is a fantastically and wildly successful business concept. I like Hooters because ugly liberal females despise it. That means I can drink a beer in relative peace should I feel the need to do so.

For the record, I can count the number of times I frequent Hooters in a three-year span on one hand and have fingers left over. But as a retired senior marketing executive, I know a winning concept when I see one. And when I saw Hooters roll out their concept in Florida all those years back, I was cheering them on.

I also admire anyone who works their way through college. I did it, and I even had help via some veterans programs. I know what it's like to be hungry.

Julia Hurley knows it better than me, and she knows what it takes to feed not just her mouth, but another's as well.

You see, Ms. Hurley became a mother at age 15.

Normally, that would be a move that liberals would stand up and salute. You know, "Single mom struggles against all odds" and that kind of stuff. Well, that was Julia Hurley's REAL life story.

She had her chance to quit. She got sick, seriously sick, somewhere around halfway through college. Was out for six months. Hooters hired her back and she worked just as hard there as she did at college.

She also started her own business--which she continues to own and operate today. That's a 29-year-old self-employed successful small business owner.

You know, the arch enemy of the Kenyan imposter and today's liberal asshats.

Julia earned her way. And she didn't do it the Frank Sinatra "I Did It MY Way" either. She did it the hard way. And the liberals and their lapdog mutts in the media can't stand it.

My message to the young Congresswoman from western Tennessee is this: Continue being a great mom, take care of your small business and stay true to your values.

Everything else will fall in place.

You're good people, Julia. You're the type we need more of.

F-111 makes a gear-up landing using a tailhook.

The F-111 was always an airplane that fascinated me.

The beauty of serving in the U.S. Air Force is that if you're an airplane nut, the Air Force is THE place to be.

Our fighter wing TDY'd quite a bit, and of the places we'd go and visit and harass, Cannon AFB (New Mexico) and Mountain Home AFB (Idaho) were two favorites.

Cannon is located outside of Clovis, New Mexico which is an area popular with science-fiction photographers and movie makers because the landscape looks just like what you'd expect on an alien planet from another solar system. It's flat and endless.

But it's perfect for giving those F-111's a place to lay their wings back and thunder across the terrain at near twice the speed of sound and maybe two hundred or so feet above the ground.

I said it in a previous posting that military aviators have balls of steel. I think F-111 and B-1 drivers have balls of titanium.

These two F-111 aviators from Australia certainly do. This is about as picture perfect of a not-by-choice gear-up landing as one could ask for.

Those Aussies. Damn they're tough. I'm glad they're on our side and we on theirs.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

How dry is it in Texas?

So exactly how dry is it in Texas right now?

• A buddy out of Longview said he'd killed a mosquito that was carrying a canteen.

• A man in Dime Box said the chicken farmers were giving the chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying hard-boiled eggs.

• In Lake Palestine ,they caught a 20 lb catfish that had ticks on it!

• But just this week, in Bryan, a fire hydrant was seen bribing a dog.

• It's so dry in Texas that the Baptists are starting to baptize by sprinkling, the Methodists are using wet-wipes, the Presbyterians are giving out rain-checks, and the Catholics are praying for the wine to turn back into water.

84-year-old WWII Army sniper still has what it takes

There really isn't anything I can add to this.

While the rest of society throws away its elders, I'm grateful that in the military, we still revere and honor ours.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Ice water in the veins of an engineless F-16 pilot

I spent some time around F-16s during my time in the Air Force.

Neat airplanes and they'll go like hell. They can turn inside of a housefly and are more agile than an Anthony Weiner caught with his Mr. Wiggly dangling on Twitter.

Except when the engine quits. Then they drop like a rock.

Military jets are designed to fly at high speed with lots of thrust pushing them along to create the negative pressure needed on the flight surfaces to sustain lift, and thus flight. Without thrust, aka: engine(s), the only way to develop necessary airspeed is to point the nose down.

But with the F-16, you have one more wrinkle: It's a fly by wire airplane meaning the flight controls are manipulated by the pilot, but operated by a computer. In other words, no cables or direct hydraulics between pilot and ailerons, elevators and rudder. Engine goes, power to computers go--unless you can get your EPU (Emergency Power Unit) fired up.

Translation? To paraphrase our worthless vice president, losing your engine in an F-16 "is a big (f-bombing) deal."

Here is a video of a USAF reservist with pure ice water in his veins making a deadstick landing into Elizabeth City, North Carolina after his engine went mammary glands up.

Here are a few observations you might find interesting:

• The whole episode, from start-to-finish only takes about 3 1/2 minutes!

• The video begins as the flight is being followed on radar. The flight leader asks for the Elizabeth City tower UHF freq which is repeated as 355.6 and the entire flight switches to that freq: Just one-more-task for the pilot to execute in the cockpit as he reports that his engine has QUIT. He has to activate the Emergency Unit to maintain electric and hydraulic power. This unit is powered by Hydrazine: (the caustic fuel that Germany created in WW II to power their V-2 Rockets and their ME-163 rocket fighters among others.) Thus, the last call about requesting fire support after the jet is safe on deck, and pilot breathing easy.

• Meanwhile, back in the cockpit, the pilot is busily attempting to "Re-light" his engine: (Unsuccessfully, of course) while tending to everything else.

• The video is taken using the Head-Up-Display (HUD) camera which also has a voice recorder.

• The HUD is a very busy instrument, but among things to notice are the 'circle' in the middle which represents the nose of the aircraft and where it is 'pointed': "The velocity Vector".

• The flight leader reports they are 7-miles out from the airport and at 9000 ft altitude. Since the weather is clear and the airport is in sight, this allows for adequate "Gliding distance" to reach a runway with the engine OFF. Rest assured, jet fighters glide sorta like a rock. They don't enjoy the higher lift design of an airliner like that which allowed Sullenburger to land in the NY river.

• Coming down 9000 ft in only 7-miles requires a helluva rate of descent, so the pilot's nose remains well below the "Horizon" until just prior to touching down on the runway. The HUD horizon is a solid, lateral bar, and below the horizon, the horizontal lines appear as dashes. You'll see a "10" on the second dashed line below the horizon which = 10-degrees nose low.

• Radio chatter includes the flight leader calling the tower and the tower stating runway 10 with wind 070@5MPH + altimeter setting of 30.13: yet another step for the pilot to consider.

• The flight leader calls for the pilot to jettison his external fuel tanks and asks another pilot in the flight to "Mark" where they dropped.. The tower later tells the pilot to land on any rwy he chooses.

• Pilot reports "Three in the green" indicating all three gear indicate down and locked which the flight leader acknowledges.

• You will hear the computer voice calling out "Warnings". More confusing chatter when none is welcome or even necessary. (That's "Hi-Tech" for ya.)

• The pilot has only ONE CHANCE to get this right and must also slow to an acceptable landing speed in order to stop on the short runway. You'll see Black rubber on the rwy where "The rubber meets the road" in the touchdown area. Note that during rollout, he gets all the way to the far end which you can see by all the black skid marks where planes have landed heading in the opposite direction.

Besides saving his own skin, this incredibly professional--and brave--pilot also saved the taxpayers around $20 million by bringing the sick Falcon to the ground in one piece.

When's the last time you saw an accountant or lawyer do something like that?

It still boggles my mind why we pay our worthless-ass politicians more than we pay our military people.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Military veterans versus political rookies.

This was sent to me by my brother, also a veteran (U.S. Navy, Army National Guard).

Does anyone have an answer?

No one has been able to explain to me why young men and women serve in the U.S. Military for 20 years, risking their lives protecting freedom, and only get 50% of their pay. While Politicians hold their political positions in the safe confines of the capital, protected by these same men and women, and receive full pay retirement after serving one term. It just does not make any sense.

Monday on Fox news they learned that the staffers of Congress family members are exempt from having to pay back student loans.

What the fuck did any of those asswipes ever risk for their country to become exempt from having to pay back student loans?

Bunch of goddamn douche bags.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Arizona police arrest woman speaking at city council meeting. So much for the First Amendment.

Right now, my hands are shaking so bad it's hard to type.

I'm so damned mad I could. . .

This information was forwarded to me by The Orange Jeep Dad as it's apparently happening almost on his back porch.

Quartzite, Arizona. A sleepy little town located at the junction of Interstate 10 and Hwy 95 in almost due central Arizona. A city-council of questionable ethics and morals. An open venue meeting. A citizen who requests time to speak and is granted.

Until she begins to expose a dirty little insider deal run by some of the city council members.

Then the police, acting in the finest tradition of secret Stasi police everywhere, arrested her.

Let's set the stage for this. Here are four minutes of some of the most damning and chilling video you may ever watch for the rest of your life. What makes it frightening is that it doesn't take place in Moscow or Beirut or Berlin or Bejing.

It doesn't even take place in Chicago or Seattle or San Francisco or New York.

It takes place in Small Town, America.

It's in Quartzite, Arizona today. Tomorrow, it could be in your town.

This wasn't the first time for Mrs. Jones. She filed a police harassment lawsuit against head thug Jeff Gilbert, who poses and is ostensibly paid as a police chief, and the city management.

Mrs. Jones publishes the Desert Freedom Press and has been critical of the Quartzite Police Department in the past--and in particular, of Jeff Gilbert. If you'll recall from the video, the chief is REPEATEDLY admonished by the Mayor, his BOSS, that he is out of order and in violation of the rules of the council.

The chief blatantly ignores the mayor, and in doing so, shits all over the First Amendment.

It seems, according to the mayor, that a great majority of the town live in fear of Gilbert and his police force. Now, before you go thinking this is hyped up hyperbole and grandstanding hysteria, check these two pieces out first. Then come back and tell me what you think.

In the words of Mayor Ed Foster, a retired United States Marine and former engineer for Wrigley Chewing Gum--

"He's just an insane person, that chief of police," the mayor said of Gilbert. "He's a Nazi ... he's completely out of control. He thinks he's running the town."

Mayor Foster said it's not just the police chief, but also the town manager and tax collector who are creating a terrifying atmosphere.

"People in town are scared to death of them," he said. "It's just a clear pattern of harassment and intimidation by this government. These people have run this town like they owned it. It's got to be fixed and I'm not going to quit until I see them in jail."

The mayor says the council has even precluded him from examining the payroll. He believes he's uncovered some possible financial wrongdoing involving checks being paid to unknown personnel, and he speculates the recipients could be councilmembers themselves.

"They're playing a sleight-of-hand with federal money," Foster said. "I've tried to get the FBI, the governor and attorney general involved, and no one has paid attention. But since this video, people are asking, 'What's going on in Quartzsite?'"

It's not just Mrs. Jones and the mayor that have legitimate concerns over Jeff Gilbert and his badged goons. It seems some of Gilbert's own cops have some big time problems with his tactics and operations and have filed grievances with AZPOST, the state's certification board and authority for law enforcement in Arizona.

Not just a handful, either. Ten sworn officers turned over evidence to the board last month and read a statement to a city council meeting.

Gilbert's response? More arrests.

The more I google for information and news about Quartzite, Arizona, the more horrified I become. Actually, strike that. The more pissed off I become.

Arizona--you have a problem. A big problem in a small town. You need to address it. Your fellow Arizonians are being treated no differently than Stalin or Hitler treated dissenters, or how the stinking Chi-comms treat dissenters.

Difference is, we have a First Amendment that allows political disagreement. We also have laws.

It appears that asswipe of a police chief couldn't give a damn about either.

He needs a new uniform. One with stripes. Or maybe a pink one, courtesy of Sheriff Joe.

Because what is happening in Anytown, America--in this case, Quartzite, Arizona--is against everything that America stands for.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

When Americans start shooting back, it's going to get damn ugly.

How far away are we from getting ready to start shooting back--at our own government and our own citizens?

In New York City, the bastion of political correctness, fairness, racial harmony and idealistic government (where's that puking smiley thing when I need it?), the jackboots in the Sanitation Department chased down an 83-year-old woman and wrote her a $100 ticket.

For tossing her newspaper in a trash can on the sidewalk.

According to the story from CBS:

The Sanitation Department has a platoon of enforcement agents tasked with enforcing litter basket laws.

Marvelous. Our hard-earned tax dollars going to support a platoon of jackbooted pissants assigned to the trash of New York City. And if you dare question the Sanitation division of the NYC Gestapo Stasi, you get chased down and ticketed.

Or, as was reported in the story, "they'll threaten to put you away." Neat trick since these assholes have no powers of arrest.

In Charlotte, North Carolina a church got fined by the tree police for "improperly trimming its crepe myrtle tree." They were fined $100 per improperly or illegally trimmed branch.

If I were a member of that church, I would not turn the other cheek.

$4700 was the fine from the Tree Turds of Charlotte, who brags about having a 33-year-old ordinance designed to "protect trees."

Hey, B.S. to that. If it's MY property and a tree is on it, then it is MY tree--not the blankety-blank government's. But as sheople, we let the government rum amok.

My gosh, when we can no longer throw a newspaper in a public trash can or prune our own trees on our own property without some power-hungry loser of a human being chasing us down, writing us tickets and then threatening to "put us a way," what the hell kind of country have we become?

Land of the Free?

Don't think so.