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::Previous::
  • "...U.S. forces are not permitted to follow al-Qaida forces back into Pakistan when they flee."

  • We need to get together a bunch of guys...

  • My Worst Day, Ever...



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        Tuesday, October 29, 2002

    "...U.S. forces are not permitted to follow al-Qaida forces back into Pakistan when they flee."

    Boy, there's that dog-chain rattlin' down the porch steps again...

    The Gulf? Laos/Cambodia? Ring a bell? Shitheads never learn. Of course, like Laos/Cambodia, Nixon bombed and insurged anyway. I have high hopes that Bush is just collecting satellite and drone imagery preparatory to a massive B-52 strike (Gosh, I wish you could pay to sponsor a bomb and have your own message put on it. It'd help the war effort, and be a heckuva lotta fun for the folks back here playing at home!).

    I have high hopes that we've made a secret alliance with India, so when the balloon goes up in Iraq this November, India nukes the piss out of Pakistan, parts of China, and we nuke the parts of China they missed. Russia'd go along with it, too, if the plan was tight and they were cut in on the booty. Heck, give the Russkies operational control of the launches, and have their observers everywhere but on our subs!

    Using tactical nukes and air power to supplement India's First Strike, the Chink War Machine could be decimated within, say, a week at the outside. With Pakistan shattered, and the US pounding the crap out of any Muslum country who doesn't just shut the fuck up, India could send in whatever manpower was neccesary to mop up in China.

    With a decent propaganda effort, we could probably convince the surviving Chinks we just helped them out!

    I'm not convinced that this would bring on Armegeddon, and I'm a little disappointed about that.

    Oh well, we'll just have to try harder next time.




        Friday, October 25, 2002

    Just In Case You Think I'm Bullshitting...

    ...or some kind of lying-ass pussy, you should frisk me and search my car.

    I am never more than a heartbeat away from a deadly weapon. I keep two guns in my car, a sneaky one, and a heavy caliber automatic, each with ten magazines and two boxes of ammo, and a magazine loader...

    Machete, boot knife, badass Spyderco, brass knuckles, a two foot steel pipe...my wife keeps an automatic loaded with Glazer's in the diaper bag...

    O'course, I'm fucked if a member of the Religion O' Peace snipes my ass from his car trunk while his teenage boyfriend ("...for pleasure, a young boy..." The Koran) sets up the shot.

    Get smart, my Bruthas From Anutha Mutha, prepare to deal out death as needed... there is no safe place, anymore.

    It's 1 am, you're half kakked, trying to get the waitress to sell you 'jus wun more drinkie', and some fuck-monkey throws in a grenade and opens up with two Glock .45's...yeah, you better be ready!

    ... cuz I don't want to hear all your whining from that special circle of hell reserved for wide-eyed retards.


    .




       

    Thank God for plane crashes, eh? Too bad Teddy missed the plane. Clinton probably had that commie bitch Wellstone snuffed because he was doomed to lose, and now Mn'soatans will give the new Demo-fag candidate a mercy-fuck vote. I wouldn't knowingly let a Democrap blow me, or even lick my dogs ass clean. What this country needs is a decent 5 cent civil war...




        Thursday, October 24, 2002

    Okay, they've caught two of them...where are the rest of the team? You who know, know just what the fuck I'm talking about...




        Wednesday, October 23, 2002

    Take heart, America. Three monkey wrenches have been thrown
    into Japan's well-oiled economic machine. It's only a matter
    of time before that powerful engine of productivity begins
    to sputter and fail.

    What could cause such a sharp turnaround? High interest rates?
    Increased unemployment? Lower productivity? No, it's something
    much more economically debilitating - and permanent.

    Three American lawyers have become the first foreign attorneys
    permitted to practice law in Japan. What's more, two of them
    are from New York!

    The decline has begun.

    Japan has one attorney for every 10,000 residents, compared to
    the U.S. ratio of one attorney for every 390 residents. For
    every 100 attorneys trained in Japan, there are 1,000 engineers.
    In the United States, that ratio is reversed.

    But a law that became effective on April 1 permits foreigners
    to practice in Japan for the first time since 1955. Already,
    an additional 20 American and six British lawyers have applied
    for permission to open practices in Japan.

    If anything can slow the Japanese economy, it's the presence
    of American attorneys. What better way to even our balance of
    trade than to send Japan our costliest surplus commodity?





        Tuesday, October 22, 2002

    This sniper crap is such whitewash it's painful. If it is being used to cover up something I am for, that's okay. If it is deflecting public view from our invasion of the Muddle East, that's fine. But I don't trust any politician, and I'd like to know what vital, sneaky thing is going on in what 'coincidentally' is the political heart of our nation. I can think of no better way to impose a sort of martial law than what is going on in the Maryland area right now.




        Sunday, October 20, 2002

    We need to get together a bunch of guys...

    ...with really big feet, to go over to Indonesia and just start crushing them little fuckers flat.

    Fuckin little Ferengi are really startin to piss me off. Their muslum 'soldiers' all look like they dressed up in their dad's uniform and gear for halloween.

    I think we should arm the native Christian population over there with the baddest shit we have, including tactical nukes, and then lettem clean house...support em with Special Forces advisers, B-52's, and naval gunfire wherever they ask for it.

    And who gives a shit if an American tourist sticks his head somewhere they've been told not to, and gets it whacked off? Fukkem, they were warned. And that goes for missionaries, too...like we don't have starving people over here and suchlike that need ministering to?

    Don't get me wrong, you kill an American, your whole shitty country should get smoked...
    ...heck, if you so much as snatch an American wallet, for that matter.

    They keep telling me we're a 'Superpower'...yeah, right...when did we become such a nation of money-hungry pussies?




        Friday, October 18, 2002

    Some of the reasons we, as a country, deserve the shagging we are about to get:

    -ebonics
    -affirmative action
    -hardcore porn, especially on the internet
    -Hollywood
    -stupid lying news-pigs, especially CNN
    -politicians we 'elected'
    -public schools
    -immigration
    -Democrats
    -liberals
    -queers
    -vote fraud

    These are just the things I can think of off the top of my head. We will not be the first nation to slip under the waves of history. God has always used pagan nations to chastise his chosen people...I think he likes rubbing their noses in it. I know there are snooty snobheads reading this and remarking to themselves that I must be a sophomoric simpleton. Well fuck you, too. Do you trust ANY politician? I liked one, but they just put him in jail. Oh, and whine at me how overworked and dedicated America's teachers are. Fuck you. I've seen the crap my kids have brought home for years. There hasn't been one decent teacher since the last WW2 GI Bill educated teacher retired. Those men and women were teachers. These NEA twats and twatettes can't spell their ownselves, how are they gonna edumacate our youngins? And the so-called 'helping professions' aren't any better. I have had more than one psychiatric professional tell me that you can't graduate any more without having to fondle the genitalia of your same sex in order to desensitize you and prove that you aren't 'homophobic' (Gad, how I hate that word!).
    When I see the sincerely stupid out demonstrating against this just and necessary war, when I see our vile and venal politicians giving aid and comfort to the enemy every day, when I see the non-stop stream of disinformation and distraction that the networks excrete and call 'news', I don't need any handwriting on any wall. The same type of instinct that is pulling large game birds inexorably south, is making me stock up on bullets and look for a place to dig a hole to hide in. When gunfire and explosions begin to replace muzak as the sound most often heard in the malls and other temples of consumerism across this land, armed Americans will quite possibly rise up in droves and begin to do quite a bit of killing. And once started, that sort of thing can be kinda hard to stop. Joe Six-pack says to himself, "well, I just shotgunned the piss out of this carload a ragheads, and hey, lookie there! Ain't that my kid's queer English teacher that got fired for touchin' some young boys butt?" Yeah, baby, it's gonna be like Lay's Potato Chips, only louder.




        Thursday, October 17, 2002

    My Worst Day, Ever...

    Well, I'm sure you're all happy to hear that I made it back alive from San Diego.

    Yay.

    The only terrorists I saw were the little Abu-Sayaf monkeys working 'security' at the gates. One of them, the broad with the wand, looked like a little gook hobbit...she could have blown me while standing. The wand looked like a rifle in her hands, and I could have had a pistol in a shoulder holster and she couldn't have reached it.

    As it was, I managed to smuggle in my Spyderco Police Model in my checked luggage...I ain't gonna be unarmed down in jungle-land, I'll tell you.

    They have signs in the airport now that tell you not to joke around. They say they are serious.

    Every so often some turd-worldian with a mouth full of marbles makes an announcement over the public address system that makes people look at each other with 'what the fuck?' looks on their faces. I felt really secure, sitting in the plane, with the back door open out to the tarmac, that any diaper-head with a gun and a grudge could have waltzed through and right into the cabin, cuz they never once shut the cabin door until just before takeoff.

    Ahhh, fukkit, we're doomed.

    I spent a lovely week with my daughter and sons, enjoying the Marine graduation ceremonies, then watching DI's 'kill' recruits in the ‘Pits’ around the base.

    I made a tactical error, though, last Thursday evening. I thought it would be a great idea to get a bottle of Canadian Mist, and some beers, and get plowed on Boilermakers, watch TV in the room, and get enough sleep so I could go to the Colors Ceremony early in the morning.

    I poured my shot, cracked my beer, and offered my sons a tipple, as well.

    My hippie/goth son took his, and my Marine Sergeant son took his, and my daughter burrowed deeper into her book and her bed, disgusted with all of us.

    My sons remarked on how smooth and tasty the bourbon was, and began to drink straight from the bottle. The trouble started when an acquaintance my Marine brought with him couldn't handle his liquor, and began to talk shit. My goth son, insulted, and blind drunk by now, staggered outside saying he was "gonna fuggin hitchhike back to Oregon"; my Marine had left, and here I was, face to face with this drunk, raving stranger.

    I was sitting at the foot of my bed, and this guy I didn't know, had never met before, was talking major shit and getting all up in my face. This would have been okay, I could have waited until my Marine came back and took over, but my daughter tried to say something, and this guy showed that he was willing to hurt us both. I knew there was no way I could take this guy in an unfair fight, and I could see that he was waiting for me to make a move, so I put my hands under my ass, sat on them, and offered him my jaw for him to hit...

    ...this guy was really beginning to scare me. I noticed that he would close his eyes and turn his head away briefly before he would get back into my face...

    ...by this time my daughter was crying on her bed, and I had gone completely combat sober...
    his eyes closed...I slipped my knife out of my pocket with my thumb, into my hand, under my ass cheek...his eyes closed, I opened the blade and held the knife open along my leg...I pulled my left hand out from under my ass and made a dismissive gesture to distract him...then I told him to shut the fuck up, and either do something, or quit boring me to death.

    If he'd have grabbed me then, I would have cut the underside of his upper arm and then slashed him across the forehead to blind him with his own blood, and then I might of had to poke a hole in something important...

    ...without taking my eyes off him, I told my daughter to get the hell out, and she rushed out of the room behind him. Then, almost anticlimactically, my Marine came back, the asshole left, and my son spent an hour apologizing for his buddy's behavior.

    Man, I love that guy...my son, I mean. I hope to never see or hear from that other guy again. I can’t remember the last time any man scared me that bad. I almost cut myself sneaking that badass knife back into my pocket.

    My daughter found my goth son wandering around the parking lot with his pants off at three a.m., covered in mud, and she and her boyfriend thoughtfully brought him back and threw him in bed with me...

    ...in the morning, the sheets looked like I'd mud-fucked a herd of pigs...wonder what the maid thought about that one?

    I had two very hung over sons the next day. The Marine held it back, but the goth puked several times, especially when I offered to go get him some raw oysters in tomato juice to help him out...ungrateful S.O.B.

    Ahhh, I love him, too. A Dad worries, but I have really great kids in spite of all my efforts to fuck them up.

    I just wish I was better at telling them that.




       

    Just trying to fix my archives...
    and it ain't working!




        Sunday, October 13, 2002

    The next time you are beating the shit out of some faggot, and the police start to interfere, start screaming at the faggot for cheating on you with another man...make it sound like a domestic dispute. This can work in any fight, too...when the cops show up, just start yelling to the guy how much you love him and you can't stand the thought of losing him to another man, and the cops should just go "ewww!" and leave you two lovebirds alone...unless the cops are faggots, too.
    Your mileage may vary...




        Saturday, October 05, 2002

    I am alternately amused and nauseated by the various pundits I read that want to suck up to our enemies. Let me give you the top part of the 'enemies list':
    -muslums
    -faggots
    -liberals
    -democrats
    -messicans
    There's more, but this'll do for now. Each of the above deserves no more mercy than you'd show a cockroach or a termite, or any other mindless destructive parasite. Trying to 'foster understanding' makes me want to puke. I am more educated and have studied all of the above for more years than most of the pundits I find blithering over the subject. To explain succinctly, let me give you an example:
    As a freshman in high school, I had just transferred over from a private church school where education was emphasized more than social events were. I was also a very handsome fellow, and the girlfriends of boyfriends weren't hesitant to let me know they thought so, which led to, well, me getting my ass kicked pretty routinely by groups of testosterone fueled white trash (no blacks or messicans yet, back in those days). It got to be where I knew who my enemies were, all the bullshit they would talk, the posturing they would engage in, and what it looked like just before they made their move on me. I decided to stop them while they were in the bullshit portion (to save us all the grief of having to listen to it) with a good kick in the nuts using a pair of brand new, pointy-toed cowboy boots I'd bought just for that purpose. Then I'd stomp a heel up into their face when they bent over, and hurt as many of their cronies as I could before the pack pulled me down and I ended up dragging myself home bloody and torn, but glad I hadn't had to hear the rest of their dreary trash.
    My Dad always said, when you hear a chain rattle down the steps of a darkened porch at night, you might be forgiven for gettin dog-bit the first time, but you'll never forget that sound after that, and if you get bit again, it's your own damn fault.
    It is just too damn bad that our young people today have been steadily brainwashed throughout their so called 'education' into thinking that they have to 'understand', to 'get along', to 'not offend', to not 'be judgmental'....
    Well, fuck off, eat shit, and die, if that's how you feel, motherfuckers, cuz I ain't going over the cliff with you...it'll be my smiling face looking down at you from the edge as you fall with a stupid, surprised look on your mug, wondering just who the fuck pushed you...see there? That's me, waving....




        Friday, October 04, 2002

    I think we should have a big nationwide video game contest, where the winners get to pilot remote controlled drones all over the middle east and shoot missles at any raghead they want to. Kind of like a big Quake Convention, but the little fuckers scurrying across the screen would be real. Man, that would be some fun, eh?




        Thursday, October 03, 2002

    Mamas, don't let yer babies grow up
    to be ragheads
    lettem be doctors an lawyers and stuff
    or maybe a pornstar who munches on muff...

    I'd like to teach
    the world to sing
    and tell it jokes and stuff
    then pull it's pants down to its knees
    and chase it through the rough...

    So, anyway, these three ragheads walk into a gay, Jewish, S&M, former Mossad agent bar...
    ...that's the joke!




        Wednesday, October 02, 2002

    Next week, I am going to be in a plane that is scheduled to fly over a nuclear power plant on it's final approach...the planes approach, not the power plants, dumbass. I will be in coach, because I am both poor and cheap. Albert Q sees the day I am flying as one of their special 'Raghead Anniversary Days', and may decide to use my plane as a party-popper. I have flown enough to know what an out of control airplane feels like. If my plane begins to behave like an epileptic whore staring at a disco ball, I will tell my daughter in the seat next to me that I love her, and then rush forward to chew the throat out of whatever fuck-monkey is trying to auger my plane into a cooling tower. Death doesn't frighten me, it just makes me sad...and dying at the hand of some Primitive Screwhead just pisses me off. Samurai had a technique whereby, when skewered on a sword, they would bring their killer down onto the blade that was killing them, and kill their killer with it. May God guide my hands, and grant me the mercy to skull-fuck the deserving dervish into oblivion,
    Amen...