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  • This is my Blog...There are many like it, but this one is mine...

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        Friday, April 30, 2004

    Friday Funny...


    UNscary



    UNscary-X.gif



    Via Cox & Forkum.





       

    Lost In Translation...

    "Guilty until proven innocent..." Pretty words. Meaningless, really. We all know that's bullshit, and yet you all chant it like a mantra.

    "All men are created equal..." Hah! Apparently the author never showered after gym class.

    "Money does not buy happiness..." Bullshit. It does all the time. You don't get GNP from selling misery, so someone must be buying happiness.

    "But...we're better than they are..." Different, maybe. I'll grant you that, but better? Did anybody ask 'them'?

    "If we're just nice to them, they'll start to like us..." Tell that to all of the missionaries currently boiling in pots right now.

    "Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong..." Uhhh, darn, that one's right...

    "You can fool some of the people all of the time..." dang, ditto.

    "Give the government a big enough penis, and it will surely fuck you with it, repeatedly, and without lubrication..." Awww, you caught me. I just made that one up.

    Toodle along now, and draw comfort from whichever slogans your team is using that give you comfort. Go on, shoo! Don't worry, be happy. It's not getting dark because the sky is falling...

    Trust me.





       

    Save Yourself...

    ...kill them all...

    Bonus points for the movie reference...





       

    Okay, It's Time...

    I've heard and read all of the arguments for and against the 'torture' of the Iraqi prisoners, and I have made up my mind.

    I'm all for it.

    There. If you disagree with me, don't bother, because all of your reasons are wrong, fallacious, and based on faulty reasoning.

    Arabs take prisoners for the following reasons: First, to hold for ransom...Secondly, to rape, torture and eventually kill at their own leisure...Thirdly, to make the prisoners family and/or tribe behave or stop behaving in some way or the other.

    The only thing those troops did wrong, is to allow those photos to fall into enemy hands. The fact that people who are secretly delighted at those troops behavior have to publicly harrumph over it, and that some people actually are horrified by it, lends credence to my thesis that America has become irrevocably pussified.

    Well, except for some of our military personnel.

    And me.





       

    Just When I Thought...

    I couldn't hate John McCain any more than I already do...

    Manchurian Candidate, indeed.





       

    Playing Hooky...

    You may have noticed a lot more posting this week than usual. I have been home with some sort of mutant flu, courtesy of my rugrats (can't say rug-munchers any more, can we?).

    That, and a weeks worth of an eye medication that makes me touch type, have kept me home for the week.

    I'm gonna go see 'Man on Fire' today...hope I don't run into the boss.





       

    For Your Edification...

    Go here for a proper edjumuhcation on all things Moonbat.

    It made me smile.





        Thursday, April 29, 2004

    The Goddess Ann Speaks...

    Go and worship.

    Not one, but THREE perfect lines!

    What a wasted marketing opportunity! Imagine the great slogans the airlines could use:

    "Now Frisking All Arabs – Twice!"

    "More Civil-Rights Lawsuits Brought by Arabs Than Any Other Airline!"

    "The Friendly Skies – Unless You're an Arab"

    "You Are Now Free to Move About the Cabin – Not So Fast, Mohammed!"


    And:

    Worst of all, the Department of Transportation ordered the settlement money to be spent on civil-rights programs to train airline staff to stop looking for terrorists, a practice known as digging your own grave and paying for the shovel.

    And!

    If John Kerry would promise to fire Norman Mineta and start racial profiling at the airports, I would campaign for him. Unfortunately, like George Bush, Kerry doesn't travel commercial air with the little people.

    Priceless.





       

    This Is A Great Line...

    This line, from this blog:

    It was a well-written short bio but I felt sorry for the author who obviously grabbed the short straw during assigment week and got stuck trying to put a party dress on that coiling turd.

    Great imagery...wish I'd written it.





       

    If You Love Me...

    Buy me this gun.



    image




    Found at Kim's blog. I'd love a pair of these.





       

    If They Will Kill Their Own Child...

    ...what makes you think that they won't fuck you up?

    Dipshits. Shoulda had Mace, at the very least. You lay a hand on me, and you're going to cough up a lung.





       

    Catch & Release...

    Another reason why we are going to lose the War on Terror.

    The Money Quote:

    One released prisoner, Mullah Shehzada, is serving as a "senior" Taliban commander. The officials say that alarming development—as well as information developed about four released detainees sent back to Britain—shows that the Gitmo population is far more dangerous than most of the public understands. Administration officials are especially aghast over the released British prisoners, who U.S. intelligence says are hardened Islamic extremists trained in urban warfare and assassination techniques at Qaeda camps before 9/11; one of them met several times with Osama bin Laden.

    Indeed.





        Wednesday, April 28, 2004

    Weep For Fallujah...

    Cry for Najaf.

    Then go here, and you'll feel better about dead ragheads.





       

    If You Are Not Thinking About This...

    EVERY FUCKING DAY!!!

    image




    ...you are wrong.

    Update:

    Use this link to get larger photos for your desktops, and to email to liberal friends on dial-up...though why you would have a liberal friend is beyond me.







       

    The Price Of A Turd...

    ...is one Starburst Fruit Chew. It's Official. That's what I had to give for a conflict-free dump from my baby daughter today, who was very adamant that she didn't have to go, until the conclusion of negotiations, whereupon she downloaded a butt-load. Why pay more? We only charge the going rate, shop now!

    If you have sex with your sister, and your other sister gets jealous, do you have a Conflict of Incest?

    I dunno...again, we've got a hot war going on right now, and the News-Pukes are showing me pictures of Kobe Bryant, and other worthless flecks of toilet rim spatter.

    And the fact that there is even an argument that Jose Padilla should not be hung after a nice, quick military tribunal, pours fresh cement on the already sealed cap over the grave of Our Country As It Was Meant To Be.

    Any time I hear the vapid arguments and whinings against John Ashcroft and the Patriot Act, and whimperings about "losing our freedoms", I know that I am dealing with the kind of person who in the movie goes downstairs into the dark basement to fix the fuse because 'we live in a rational world, and nothing bad could happen, right?'

    "What was that? Hey, Charlie, go check the horses..."

    Yeah, Chuck, let me know how that works out for ya.





       

    This Is...

    Probabably why we are going to lose the War on Islam.

    It's okay for them to butcher and rape our prisoners, but when a few of our guys goof around with some of theirs, a Marine General grows a vagina.

    I can only hope that they are lying, and will continue to treat these arab dogs with the contempt they deserve.

    A generation of young people, exposed to the subhumanity of those they meet over there, are going to fundamentally change the flow of 'diversity awareness' that is going on now. And they will raise their kids to hate ragheads, too.

    Good. Maybe we'll have a chance of survival in the long run, but not playing by these silly-ass rules the way we seem to be doing, now.





        Tuesday, April 27, 2004

    Celebrating Perversity...

    I wrote this on May first of last year. I reprint it here in honor of the festivities in Washington this weekend:

    A female friend of mine asked for my help in getting an abortion back in the 70's. I forget how far along she was, but she was at least a few months along. It wasn't my baby, so I didn't care and said sure. She paid my gas and bought beer, and we went to the clinic and she asked me to come in with her. The staff assumed I was the father, so there was no problem with me going in. They gloved me up and gave her a big old shot of Pitocin, and left me alone with her. Some time passed, and she began looking for all the world like she was having a baby. The nurse came in once and told me to encourage her to push, and went back out to help other girls kill their babies. After one particularly huge pushing event, I heard a squishy, popping sound, and I looked under her drape and there was a puppy...no, wait, it was a little dark haired baby...for some reason I picked it up in my hands. It filled my cupped hands, its tennis ball sized head covered with dark brown hair, its little legs going back along my wrists. Through the gloves, I could feel it's warmth...its heartbeat...it moved a little as it died, probably because no one came to clear its lungs. The girl just stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard...tears running down her cheeks into her ears. Touched for some reason, I held it until the nurse came and took it from me and put it in a pan and took it away. She came back in a couple of minutes and helped me dress the girl. She looked at us with a strange light in her eyes and said "it was a girl"...I think she was upset. The girl sobbed softly and we didn't talk on the trip back.





        Monday, April 26, 2004

    Green Side Up!

    A woman had a contractor over to discuss the interior painting she wanted done on her house.

    They started in the kitchen, where, after looking at some paint samples, she decided on the yellow.

    As they were about to move on into the dining room, he rushed over to her kitchen window, opened it, and shouted "Green side up!"

    She shrugged off this behavior, as he returned to acting perfectly professional, and eventually they decided on a nice Tuscany Cream for the paint scheme of the dining room. As they headed on in to the living room, he once again rushed over to the dining room widow, threw it open, and shouted "Green side up!"

    She was becoming a little disturbed by this behavior, but he returned to his profesional demeanor, and they eventually settled on a nice mauve for her living room's color scheme. As he was closing his sample book and putting his pen back in his shirt pocket, he once again hurried over to the front door, threw it open, and shouted "Green side up!!"

    She had finally had enough of this, and asked him why he was doing that.

    He chuckled and said, "Oh, that? It's okay, I just have a crew of blondes laying grass at the house across the street..."





       

    The WMD's...

    ...have been found.

    That is all.





       

    Just A Thought...

    About this troop rotation business in Iraq. I do not think that any entire units should be sent back to the States in toto. Rather, they should be relieved a half a company at a time, with the new company being made up of 1/2 vets, and the other half being newbies or refreshed vets.

    This should go all the way down to the fire team level. Actually, it should start from there. One half of each fire team leaves and is replaced, two to three squads from each platoon leave and are replaced. The company stays in place, the battallion stays in place, the brigade stays in place, the division stays in place.

    This calculation assumes a company of 150-160 men, made up of five platoons, which are made up of four squads.

    This bit of having entire units just pack up and leave is wrong, and typical of bureaucratic thinking. It is terribly inefficient, and dangerous to boot. And these rotations should be computerized, and performed stealthily, which means not on fucking CNN with a brass band and flags. The enemy, always watching, should not know if those trucks and helicopters are carrying fresh troops, or bananas.

    Sending clumps of green troops in to reinvent the wheel is the stupidest thing I've ever seen. We should have R&R stations all over the Middle East, secure ones, guarded by lightly injured, recovering verterans, where our All Volunteer Military! can go for R&R when they need it. Family men should get a paid two week pass (not including travel time) every four months. No military person should have to serve more than a year in a combat zone without being rotated to a non-combat zone for at least 6 months, unless they volunteer to stay and are medically (and psychologically) cleared to do so.

    If I could get away for a few days once a month and fuck and drink my brains out, and sleep with both eyes closed, I would happily stay in combat for the rest of my life.





       

    I Love This!

    Who hasn't wanted to kick the crap out a nasty old lady?

    Live the dream, guys!





       

    Vox Day...

    ...nails it.

    A libertarian, like a stopped clock, can be right twice a day.

    Heh...and, dammit, I fear he may be closer to the truth than I'm comfortable with on his judgements of the way Bush appears to be micromanaging (and fucking up) the 'war' in Iraq.

    Double Dammit.





        Sunday, April 25, 2004

    now I got faggots selling me goldfish snack crackers. the perfidy.




       

    Deja Vu All Over Again...

    I wrote the (italicized) below September 20th, '02:

    Well, I'm sending my wife away for the weekend to a quiet place in the mountains for a 'retreat', away from me and the squallin youngn's...don't need her freaking out and engaging in an act of terminal child-bathing cuz she never gets a break, and then one fine day she snaps.

    The husband of that crazy bitch in Texas, you know the one, bitch got a 'little overzealous' while teaching her kids to snorkle... he should be thrown, bound and naked into the cage of a Viagra'd up mountain gorilla...
    ...and did you see that malignant cunt on Fox News today, slugging her four year old daughter? She goes in the cage next. First (and lesser) offenders should be forced to watch the gorrilla rape video as a warning that next time it could be their ass getting reamed by Koko and his Big Pink Banana.

    Fuck privacy, I'm glad that the proliferation of security cameras is catching people like this baby-bashing douchebag...I wanna reach up her snatch and rip out her reproductive organs, like a bloody distributor cap and spurting plug wires...some people just aren't fit to breed, and they're just gonna pass on the disease to their kids. I'm almost afraid to see how that poor little girl turns out, assuming she survived the beating.

    I once assisted a DA Homicide Investigator in securing a piece of evidence from a crime scene...the 'evidence' was the entire west wall of the home's dining room. The wall was decorated with several interesting and colorful blood-spray patterns, indicating where some animal rat bastard had bashed his toddler son's head against it many, many times. The DA felt that it would be an effective exhibit to wheel into the courtroom for the jury to see.

    It was.


    Ahhh, the old days...2002. Funny thing is, she's away at the same retreat this weekend. It's become a ritual. She comes back revved up and recharged. She goes up with a group of broads from her church, and apparently they all revert to 16 and get crazy. Wonder if they drum.

    My darling son picked today to get sick. He has puked about eleventy times since waking up. I'm greatful to him for not spewing in my bed this morning when he crawled in with me around 7. I managed to sneak in another hour of sleep before he launched into the bathroom with a serious look on his face. He dry-heaved off and on all morning, and then tricked me into giving him a bowl of life cereal.

    I just finished cleaning it out of the upstairs rug where he laid down suppressing fire on the carpet, thence to a layup on the rim of the toilet, then a brief but spirited rebound onto the bathroom rug and the shower curtain, before delivering the last hot meals-on-wheels in another layup over the rim and into the upturned face of the bowl.

    I yelled some. Little shitbird. I'd put a plastic waste basket by his bed, but some bile demon possessed him to go all Amway and distribute his well-chewed milky goodness all over the fucking place.

    My woman better appreciate me giving away my newly precious weekend...





       

    Another Guy...

    ...who writes better than me. Dammit. Oh well, he's going to hell, and I'm not, so there is that satisfaction.

    Here's a sample:

    Siberian hamster

    I don't think I'm any less of a man just because while getting dressed I had a black sock resting on my shoulder, forgot about it, bent over, and shrieked like a little girl when a black amorphous rat-like shape suddenly flew into my field of view.
    Not at all.

    I think I'm less of a man because a little pee escaped.


    Read ye all of it.

    Oh, just one more:

    When they start anally electrocuting the losing team like they do with chinchillas, fine, then I'll start giving half a shit about who wins these things.

    My sentiments on any game that the Raiders aren't playing in, exactly. Any sport at all, for that matter. And I think that the audience who watch NASCAR should be given little remote controls so that when a certain cars number is punched in enough times it just explodes.

    That would be cool.





        Saturday, April 24, 2004

    A Letter...

    To Mrs. du Toit:

    Sorry about the email, but the botheration of registration got too burdensome when I got to the Norton blockade.

    I just wanted to say that I couldn't possibly disagree with you more on this. The defense of this nation is too important to leave in the hands of reluctant, surly little cowards.

    And, as much as I despise the little hippie bastards of today, I do not want to give the government another power to use and misuse.

    Furthermore, we are in enough trouble on the homefront without all of the screaming and whining a draft would engender. And anything Charley Rangel is for just has to be wrong.

    I say this as a former Army volunteer, with two sons serving as voluntary Marines.

    Let me go even further against a draft...if invaders were encroaching on our shores, I would still be against it. If our young men are not rushing to the call to arms, we deserve to be overrun. It's that simple.

    Regards,

    Bane
    http://banedad.blogspot.com/


    ...just in case I haven't made my feelings on The Draft clear enough to any readers, here.

    The Draft: Big Mistake, or Bad Idea?

    Both.

    Update:

    Madame du Toit has directed me to a follow up post of hers on this here.

    I am still pondering. It sounds as if we may be in one accord, with minor departures. My idea, that I have touted many times in the past, is to have compulsory government service for two years at the age of eighteen, in any branch of the military, or Forest Service, or Corps of Engineers, or things of that nature. Regardless, at 18, everyone goes through a military style boot camp, including weapons familiarization.

    Anyone who chooses to opt out may do so, but they lose all of the basic Privileges that come with being an American citizen, especially any kind of government assistance, and voting. They will have volunteered to become part of a new serf class, and our lawns and streets will benefit mightily.

    At any time, up to the age of 35, they may choose to 'opt back in', and perform their two years and rejoin American society.

    The only exceptions would be the truly handicapped, crippled beyond any ability to even use a touch screen, and the insane, who would then be safely housed away from society.





       

    I'm Pretty Sure...

    ...that this is a bad idea.

    Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm all for torture, when needed, being correctly applied. But it is just as bad an idea as legally sanctioning suicide. People are going to do it if they want to, or have to, but why remove the stigma, and encourage more?

    I think you'll agree with me, when some uniformed goon is applying electricity to your sex button because paragraph 2A in the manual says that yes, in this situation, there is no prohibition against it.





       

    Another Nail...

    ...in the coffin of dead liberal ideology.

    This article is more proof, if any is needed, that Andy Rooney and the other libtard leftist cockroaches are full of shit up to their raggedy eyebrows.





       

    Making A List...

    ...and checking it twice.

    All the way down at the bottom we see these names:

    The celebrity group includes Helen Hunt, Whoopi Goldberg, Christina Aguilera, Jennifer Aniston, Kevin Bacon, Alec Baldwin, Stockard Channing, Cindy Crawford, Sheryl Crow, Ellen DeGeneres, Jane Fonda, the Indigo Girls, Demi Moore, Susan Sarandon, Martin Sheen, Charlize Theron, Uma Thurman and Ted Turner.

    If I'd have read this last week, I would not have gone to see 'Kill Bill 2', and I'm canceling my plans to go see it again tomorrow. To bad...great movie.





       

    I Think I Like This Guy...

    The GOP's counter to Terry McAuliffe and the Uber-Vile Bob Mulholland.

    Point of interest...I was having trouble remembering Mulhollands name, so I Googled 'california democratic hitman', and bing, there it was! Amazing. One of the finest moments in my life was knocking that cocksucker on his ass years ago at a Republican fundraiser in Chico California that he tried to disrupt with a bull horn. I was just there for the beer and the ribs. I never voted in my life until this last election. But I recognized someone who needed an ass kicking, and gave him one. I hope one day to have another opportunity.





        Friday, April 23, 2004

    I Posted Below...

    ...way down there somewhere, and I just checked the link and it was dead. A little searching turned up this cached copy, which I found interesting at the time, and still do. Interesting that the blog is now dead, too...

    Here is the pertinent part that caught my eye, in case it gets 'disappeared' again:

    Why All the Kidnappings?

    When things happen that man cannot explain or control, he tends to make up stories about it - thunder is Thor slamming his hammer to the ground, if we sacrifice the virgin our crops will grow better next year, if we sail too far west we will fall off the edge of the earth and be eaten by dragons. That sort of thing.

    That seems to apply in Baghdad as well.

    The latest efforts to divine reason from anarchy seeks to explain the new Iraqi national sport of kidnapping. Why the sudden craze? Why does everyone feel like they have to be the next person on the block to have hostages? Four Italians, eleven Russians, three Japanese... when does the drive to "keep up with the Husseins" become excess?

    I haven't been following this terribly closely in the media, but it seems that a good number of hostages are being released. Seven Chinese, five Ukrainians, three Russians and a Briton, have been released since Sunday, according to AFP.

    Some folks here say that the insurgents are capturing and releasing people to show the Coalition that they can get at them any time they would like, and this is a warning to lighten up in Fallujah or else.

    Regardless of what you think about this particular theory, the really funny thing (in a twisted sort of way) is that the Iraqis are making up stories to try to explain the actions of the Coalition (for instance, the four contractors who were killed in Fallujah were Jews, which explains the strong reaction by the Coalition Forces), and Westerners here are making up stories to explain the actions of the insurgents.

    I tend to think that the "warning" theory shows more coordination and more restraint than the insurgents have shown up to this point. I prefer to think the insurgents kidnapping people are actually aliens, and they are cloning the people they kidnap and releasing the clones as part of a larger effort to take over the earth.




       

    How The Heck Did I...

    ...manage to get a mosquito bite right in the top of my ass crack?

    Man, that bugs me. Kinda like watching Paula Zahn force herself to give a eulogy on-air for Pat Tillman...hearing his name fouled by coming out of her filthy, libwhore cock receptacle. She looked like she'd been paid good money to eat a turd...smiling as hard as she could, with hatred behind her eyes.

    What's worse, having fingertips that smell like ass, or watching some commie mannequin read a teleprompter like an organ grinder's monkey smiles falsely for it's coin?

    Pat, God Bless you, bud. Go into the light. It was your job to die, and I hope you did it well, and took some of the goat fuckers with you.

    I had to pull off the road this morning when Rush was delivering his eulogy. I couldn't see for some reason.

    Hey, GW, are you doing the right thing for our guys? You better be, motherfucker, or I swear, Christ Himself will gut you first when He comes back with the sword in His mouth.

    Dang, this sucker itches...





        Thursday, April 22, 2004

    Honkeys Can't Jump, Niggers Can't Swim...

    This just slays me, and epitomizes the absolute bankruptcy of Affirmative Action.

    Irony would have one of these black police officers responding to a call to a pond where his kid has just gone down a'bubblin...never mind if it was one of your kids.

    blub blub...







        Wednesday, April 21, 2004

    Blatant Propaganda...

    This is the single most blatant piece of shit I have ever read on a 'reputable' news site. This makes the NYT look honest and conservative.

    Finding a fact in this piece of shit is a true challenge.







        Tuesday, April 20, 2004

    Sexy Gun Talk...

    Happening here...

    Y'all should be going here every day, anyway...

    Slackers.





       

    I Miss The Troops...

    I used to get a lot of traffic from young military guys before the war. They'd email me, and we'd chat. It was fun.

    Now, it seems, they are busy. Or maybe the .Mil sites have me blocked as being a threat to their morals. They can kill ragheads, but they sure can't read the word.

    I know a few troopies who still read me, but they're paranoid about it in case some thin-skinned minority reads one of my rants over their shoulder and burns them. Only white guys get burned for Raceschism nowadays.

    Raceschism is not just a two-way street, it is a complex cloverleaf that everybody gets on sooner or later, with many entrances and exits. Show me a man who is truly color blind, and I'll show you a man with two different colored socks on.

    Oh well. You either understand me, or you don't. You've either been brainwashed by poor education and upbringing or you haven't. And don't get all constipated over 'hate'. I hate Brussels Sprouts, but I am not hunting any down to kill them.

    Don't be weird.





       

    ET Phones Home...

    Earnest Truth writes:

    "Damnit, Bane: I was looking forward to a good ol' fashion tax day rant, here!"

    Well, kids, that's just bullshit. If you let them take your money, it's not your money anymore, so just shut the fuck up, and quit whining about how they spend it.

    Let me repeat this, and learn it, love it, and live with it:

    IT'S NOT YOUR MONEY ANY MORE!!!

    It's like hanging around outside your ex-girlfriends apartment while she's inside fucking another guy...just pitiful.

    Cut it out.





       

    "Woman kills nude attacker with baseball bat..."

    Were cheerier words ever spoke? This story made my day, and here is my favorite part, and possibly one of the greatest, most nuanced paragraphs ever written:

    "We're peaceful people, calm people," Herndon said after she spent much of Sunday cleaning up Turner's blood. "You ask yourself, 'Why does something like this happen?'"

    Another happy story, and reenforcement of my hatred for spics. Prisoners, by their very nature, are convicted criminals. If prisoners want to riot, I say fine...just put machine guns on the parapets and keep shooting until things quiet down.

    I like humans a lot better when they're dead.





        Monday, April 19, 2004

    Guilty...

    I just blogged from work...I feel like a criminal.





       

    So What?

    A lot of folks are blogging on the Hamas Shooting Gallery. Or on John Kerry. Or whether or not Kevin Spacey is a fag (well, duh!).

    None of this matters. It's all irrelavant crap, happened last week, last year, and will happen again, and it's just crap. I'd rather see someone use the old blogger cop-out of describing their dump, than read another thing about Spain or Al Queda or any politician.

    I know nothing of any consequence is going on in the world today when I turn on my TV this morning, and am blessed with Pamela Anderson just as naked as they can show her on FOX News... the 'Conservative' news network.

    If there is anything of consequence occurring, nobody is sharing it with us.

    Good...I'm busy.





        Saturday, April 17, 2004

    This Is...

    ...clever.





        Thursday, April 15, 2004

    Lick Gore...

    Gore Lick.

    Jamie.

    Jamie Gore Lick.

    That about says it all.





       

    This Is The Way You Do It!!

    Fuckin A! I've faced Death enough times to know that I, too, will piss in his eye when the time comes.

    The Wops have had shitty luck in battle pretty much since Romulus and Remus died, but I have always admired their fire and verve.

    Truthfully, though, you shove a gun in my face to take me hostage, and we are going to settle the matter right then and there, one way or another. And I will shoot through my wife or kid to get to you if you make me, I promise.

    If someone pulls a weapon on you, assume that A) they intend to kill you so you've got nothing to lose and B) they are offering you that weapon, and it has become your duty to take it from them and kill or mutilate them with it. Ignore any loud noises and irrelavant feedback from your nerve endings, until the job at hand is complete.

    Hint: Go ask your local butcher for a dozen or so fresh eyeballs, pig if you can get them. Practice cupping them in one palm, and popping your thumbs and fingers into them til you hit jelly.
    This also works well if you get a rack of outdated ribs (pork, again) and a big fat roast. Tie the ribs around the roast, and then tie butchers paper around the whole thing (no fair seeing the ribs and trying to avoid them on purpose).
    Now, get your favorite combat carry knife (you don't carry a knife at all times? Fag...) and stab that meat pak one handed, with your off hand, too. If it didn't penetrate to your knuckles, and withdraw easily, get a new knife.

    Here's mine.
    This is a good, more concealable model for smaller hands or if you wear a suit to work.

    Here's a fixed blade that will remove a head in less than three cuts.

    If you're not serious about staying alive, shut up and die.





       

    The Goddess Ann Speaks...

    Go and Worship!

    I wonder if my adoration of her makes her uncomfortable, or if she secretly desires me to throw her over my big Viking shoulder and carry her off for mead and ravishment.

    Ooops...s'cuse me, I gotta go clean up...





        Tuesday, April 13, 2004

    Unto Us A Blog Is Given...

    Go here, bring frankenstench and myhrroror, and enjoy. He rites gud.





       

    Cognitive Dissonance...

    Wow...

    Need I say more?





       

    Hmmmm...

    I found this to be inneresting.

    Dead link...never mind.





       

    I Promise...

    If they would change the age requirements and waive my medical discharge, I would join tomorrow to go to Iraq, or even to stay here to free up a young man to go.

    All you pussies that are of age, and don't have a wife and kids, get your asses down to the recruiters tomorrow morning, dammit.

    You've been gettin all the bennies, now go earn em. And I know for a fact that you can get a Congressional waiver for just about anything, so quit fucking around.

    And get a few friends drunk, and take them in, too. Y'all get better bennies if you join together, anyway, and you can all stay together, too.

    Get to it...I mean it.





        Monday, April 12, 2004


    :: how jedi are you? ::




       

    Home Sick...

    I either have the Norwalk flu, or gastritis...I've been home all day either sleeping, blogging, or making like a hot Hershey syrup dispenser, alternating with what appears to be some sort of pineapple sauce, or perhaps a Butterscotch Foam Latte.

    My stomach feels like Viagra'd up weasels are fucking and fighting in there, and farting has become a luxury I, and my underwear, can ill afford.

    Though I wish to puke, I have not, which leads me to suspect gastritis. Sad, if I can no longer eat a plate piled high with nearly raw Filet Mignon without paying a heavy price.





       

    This Is A 'Must Read'...

    I am honored to find writing like this. Someone needs to tie Bush to a chair and force-read this to him.

    This is a worthy blog for me to add to my 'feel guilty about not reading every day' list.





       

    It's Time...

    ...to push this nasty old bastard down a flight of stairs.

    Where's a good anuerism when you need one?

    Update:

    A Marine responds:

    I'm having a bad fucking month as it is and that cocksucking mother fucker andy roony is lucky he isnt within choking distance. I would rip his head off with out a second thought. What a piece of shit. You dont join the military just for college money, and if you do I hope you catch a bullet out their because you arent worth the same paycheck i am

    I have never read anything that made me so mad in my life

    it's not about ribbons, it's about service

    I have ribbons from that war and when I look at them they make me feel tired

    and worried for all my brothers and sisters out there right now

    22 people committed suicide? two things: so what, and thats really not that many out of how many are serving.

    take a trip home? yeah, every one wanted to go home. When it was coming to the end of the first trip for us marines we sent the married guys home first, and then the guys with problems they had to take care of

    I saw a lot of guys take their names off the list to go home so they could put their buddies name on the list
    and we are brave heroes god-damnit. YOU stand gaurd duty in the middle east listening to patriot missiles fire around trying to shoot down scuds that might or might not have anthrax in them.

    wars have allways been fought by young men, they must be, it's a hard life. Let's see his old fat ass out there fighting for something he believes in

    piece of shit

    when million's of jobs disapeered? Last I checked the number is just under eight million. in a population of almost three hundred million?

    fuck, I cant find a job I think I will go get shot at? no people want to join- for pride, for serving their country. Things that faggod fucker will never understand. During WWII he would have been hung. So would a lot of these left wing liberal baby killer's

    I've never read anything that pissed me off so much in my life.


    Yep.





       

    Will Kill For Clothing...

    Because of this, your tech support phone calls may go unanswered for a few days. Sari for any inconvenience this may cause you.





        Sunday, April 11, 2004

    Driven To Return To...

    ...my own vomit by a posting by a prissy puke posting elsewhere, I have detected a decidedly anti-gay tone in my spewings of late.

    Sorry...faggots.





       

    Won't You Be My Neighbor?

    I bumped into my across the street bi-polar schizo-affective neighbor's ex-husband yesterday out in front of their house as I was doing yard work. "Your wife is like, a saint, man" he tells me. She had bought the woman a load of groceries, and their tard daughter an Easter basket, because they are poor and always on the edge of being evicted, and, yes, my wife is a saint. "I know" I told him coldly, "but I'm an asshole...kinda balances things out, dontcha think?" I've seen his body language when he talks with my wife...everybody always wants to fuck your old lady. He seemed taken aback. I left my sunglasses on, gave no quarter, and he turned away and went to his car.

    The neighbors in the condo to the right of us appear to be a batch of Deisel Dykes, and except for one hottie who may be one of their daughters, they look it, too. They have three big pickups, the kind with dual wheels and fifth-wheel mounts, and they have all kind of horse stuff scattered around. They do some sort of competitive horse thingy which involves racing around poles, and they are always painting these poles, and festooning them with fake plantage. Maybe they are Cow-Dykes.
    The hottie seems to like me, and gives away gratuitous tit and butt shots all of the time. I appreciate that in a woman. She has two blind-as-shit English bulldogs, and has erected a small fence between our yards because I have frowned upon the vast turds they leave behind as they stagger around, and because of the Boston Terrier (owned by the two possibly gay ROTC Marines across the street) beelines for her backyard when they let him out, and this drives the blind bulldogs nuts as they cough and slaver at the window when they detect his scent.

    To my left are extremely hot college girls who act like I don't exist when they see me, and who absolutely refuse to lay out in bikinis in their yard whilst tanning. Bitches.

    Last night at threeish a.m. I was awoken by two screaming drunks, part of the food stamp crowd that cuts through the field by our house to get to the nearby 7-11 to buy their smokes and beers, and then use their food stamps to buy their snacks.
    The street light was just bright enough to give me an agonizing decision. Too many pumps on my pellet gun, and the crack would alert them to the fact that they were being shot at...too few pumps, and it wouldn't hurt, and might not even hit them.
    I'm not positive, but I believe that these fuckers are responsible for a rash of bottle breakings in the street that have had my wife and I out playing sweep up in our little cul de sac to keep our kids and tires from getting perforated. The Cow-Dykes just run over the glass in their tanks willy nilly...once a week they take about ten cases of Budweiser to the bottle return, and that explains a lot.

    Anyway, I peel back the slit in the bottom of my screen and poke the barrel out after only three pumps...they are drunk and noisy enough that I decide to wait for the next war whoop and pull the trigger. I have a piece of nylon stocking that matches the coloration of the screen exactly, kept on with some light spray adhesive. The police can't see it even when shining a spot on it (I checked), and I can smooth it right back after shooting with no one the wiser, after popping a noisy cat or raccoon, or drunk. I use sub-velocity .22 rounds for animals, but, because of rifling, I use .17 cal lead pellets for drunks.

    He held out both arms and yee-hawed! and I shot him in the back of the knee. Fuck, I was aiming for his ass, but not bad at 60 feet with only three pumps. He screamed again and skipped down the road to his friend who was lucky he was too far away cuz he was facing me and I woulda gone for his balls. I saw them checking his leg with a lighter too far away to get away with another shot, so I put the red dot from my laser level on their chests and wiggled it around and they took off like fags at a rest-stop raid.

    It took me ten damn wasted minutes to get back to sleep.

    Update:

    It has been brought to my attention (by me) that I have left out a critical component from my cautionary tale above...the pellet gun in question is a Crossman pump/pellet pistol, $40 at Big 5 Sporting Goods. My pellet rifle may have penetrated his pants and skin with three pumps...with the pistol, I will be looking for a White Trashus Erectus with a limp, tomorrow.

    Given half a chance, I will 'door' him into next week from behind with my truck.

    Fingers crossed!





       

    I've Said This Before!

    Go read this guy!

    My favorite quote:

    Now, as I’ve mentioned before, youthful experimentation aside I monkey around with the pooper as little as possible. An embarrassed post-crap dab or two with some toilet paper to comply with the rules of society (and by that I mean “the Eighth Judicial Circuit Court in and for Alachua County, Florida”) and I’m done with the whole gizmo. But there are a surprising number of sensitive nerve endings living it up in your ass-crack. For the most part they spend their time enjoying the warmth and doing their jobs, sensing the proximity of the opposite ass-cheek or whatever, but get ‘em all riled up on psoriasis and shift in your chair wrong and I swear by all that is fucking right and proper it feels like you just got zapped in the shitter by a lightning bolt made out of mentholated scorpions.

    If only I could write that well..

    Update:

    Recently I asked a friend who had dated a comic artist why these terrible things existed. I mean, there’s so much porn in the world… Type “ice cream” into Google and you’ll get about 3 million pages of “up the ass ice cream tentacle rape Britney Spears blowjob.” Why do the nerds spend all that money on those lame comics when they could spend five seconds on the Internet and come up with so many photos and movies of actual naked women getting debased that their frontal lobes would instantly short out in a blinding, smoke-filled explosion of jism and acne cream?

    I am bereft...I fear I must give up writing...his Everest is too challenging, and his Kung Fu is better...





       

    For Your Edification...

    ...or your constipation. I ran across this, and this, and now I want to go have a drink.

    And then I hear that our stupid leadership has fallen for the standard 'Raghead Ruse' of agreeing to a cease-fire in Falluja.

    Let me translate the cease-fire request for you, GW, you ijjit:
    "We are getting our raggedy asses kicked by your professional soldiers, so could you please stop killing us long enough so we can regroup, rearm, and prepare more IED's and ambushes for you when you come back in like you've committed to doing? Thanks, infidel, we knew you'd fall for this...you always do...hey! Watch while I pop out holding a child in front of me and shoot at you! Oho! Gets you every time, does it not, infidel? Praise Allah you are all so gullible! Insallah..."

    Well, I've got to go hide some IED's (Improvised Egg Devices) for my little ones for when they get back from church. Fucking pagan holiday.
    Hey, God, I'm greatful for the sacrifice of your Son, and all that, but did we have to celebrate on a pagan solstice holiday? People who take the Pope seriously, mock ragheads who beat themselves with chains...pitiful.





        Friday, April 09, 2004

    Women In Combat...

    You be the judge...

    Update:

    Well, crap...this was a great article written by a broad in the military in Iraq, but the fucking site is one of those pussy sign-in sites. Too bad, she had some great points.

    BTW, pretty interesting place if you do sign up (I did), and you get a free blog out of the deal. I'm there as bane_1955, but I haven't posted anything...yet.





       

    Random Synapses...Firing...

    Does it piss you off that I write better drunk than you do sober?

    Fuck da Romans...they were extinct from their own excesses before any history of consequence to me occurred, yet people study them and quote them as if they have relevance, just because some tweedy professor impressed them as teenagers with his dusty prose and tales of men who got paid in alcohol using their pointy little swords to subdue other savages. Fukkem. My Viking forebearers did far more to shape the world of today, yet the religious fanatics suppressed those tales with a prissy vengeance.

    Build a post about poop or boogers, and they will come...

    I am doomed to weed-eat tomorrow, as, while I have the wife mower-broken, she fears the weed-eater.
    Fuck.

    I want to go see The Alamo. Dead Mexicans? Dead Texans? Dead Congresspersons? What's not to like?

    Wanna see The Whole Ten Yards, too. looks like fun. Loved it's progenitor.

    Think I can get away with whacking off to Japanese Schoolgirl Porn online without the wife catching me? Me neither...dammit.

    G'night...





       

    And You Wonder Why I Hate Faggots?

    I hope this never happens to me. I am, dare I say, 'violence prone'...





       

    A Wounded Marine Speaks...

    Cpl. Richard Stayskal, a 22-year-old Marine from San Jose, Calif., arrived in Landstuhl (Germany) Tuesday after being wounded by automatic weapons fire in Ramadi, west of Baghdad.

    “I just kind of froze, my body clenched in the fetal position. I fell to the ground," Stayskal said.

    Stayskal, a sniper, had been deployed to Ramadi to hunt down a "mad bomber," the unit's name for a man who had been seen planting roadside bombs targeted at U.S. and coalition forces.

    With little warning, a group of 15 armed Iraqis descended on the lightly armed unit. The bullet that hit Stayskal ricocheted off his shoulder, through his lung and exited from his back. It came within inches of his heart and major arteries.

    Countering the insurgency, Stayskal said, has been difficult for Marines on the ground. In his case, his unit was chronically short of ammunition, and his support unit got pinned down at the same time across town. The two units couldn't help each other.

    "They weren't giving us nearly enough ammunition for the situations out there. Everyone was running out. Everyone was grabbing each other's ammunition."


    Instead of sending our boys baby-wipes and cookies, maybe we should be sending them cases of ammunition?

    Oh...wait...it's illegal to send that through the mail, isn't it?
    We, The Fucking People, should rise up as one, and deny Congress any further pay, and freeze their benefits, until our boys have all of the armor, ammo, and food they need to do this dirty job.

    My own son, during his stint in Al Kut, was lucky to get one MRE every few days...and we were giving those raghead cocksuckers in both Iraq and Afbombistan 'Humanitarian Aid'?

    Are we stupid, or what?

    Fuck all Iraqis up the ass with a sharp stick.





       

    The Sincerest Form Of Flattery...

    Lee, over at Right-Thinking had a query about my involvement in this...

    Sure as heck sounds like me, don't it?

    Lucky bastard, to be able to conjugate a fag as well as I do...





       

    Sad, But True...

    Washington, April 9, 2004.
    A hush fell over the city as George W. Bush today became the first president of the United States ever to be removed from office by impeachment. Meeting late into the night, the Senate unanimously voted to convict Bush following a trial on his bill of impeachment from the House.

    Moments after being sworn in as the 44th president, Dick Cheney said that disgraced former national security adviser Condoleezza Rice would be turned over to the Hague for trial in the International Court of Justice as a war criminal. Cheney said Washington would "firmly resist" international demands that Bush be extradited for prosecution as well.

    On August 7, 2001, Bush had ordered the United States military to stage an all-out attack on alleged terrorist camps in Afghanistan. Thousands of U.S. special forces units parachuted into this neutral country, while air strikes targeted the Afghan government and its supporting military. Pentagon units seized abandoned Soviet air bases throughout Afghanistan, while establishing support bases in nearby nations such as Uzbekistan. Simultaneously, FBI agents throughout the United States staged raids in which dozens of men accused of terrorism were taken prisoner.

    Reaction was swift and furious. Florida Senator Bob Graham said Bush had "brought shame to the United States with his paranoid delusions about so-called terror networks." British Prime Minister Tony Blair accused the United States of "an inexcusable act of conquest in plain violation of international law." White House chief counterterrorism advisor Richard Clarke immediately resigned in protest of "a disgusting exercise in over-kill."

    When dozens of U.S. soldiers were slain in gun battles with fighters in the Afghan mountains, public opinion polls showed the nation overwhelmingly opposed to Bush's action. Political leaders of both parties called on Bush to withdraw U.S. forces from Afghanistan immediately. "We are supposed to believe that attacking people in caves in some place called Tora Bora is worth the life of even one single U.S. soldier?" former Nebraska Senator Bob Kerrey asked.

    When an off-target U.S. bomb killed scores of Afghan civilians who had taken refuge in a mosque, Spanish Prime Minister Jose Aznar announced a global boycott of American products. The United Nations General Assembly voted to condemn the United States, and Washington was forced into the humiliating position of vetoing a Security Council resolution declaring America guilty of "criminal acts of aggression."

    Bush justified his attack on Afghanistan, and the detention of 19 men of Arab descent who had entered the country legally, on grounds of intelligence reports suggesting an imminent, devastating attack on the United States. But no such attack ever occurred, leading to widespread ridicule of Bush's claims. Speaking before a special commission created by Congress to investigate Bush's anti-terrorism actions, former national security adviser Rice shocked and horrified listeners when she admitted, "We had no actionable warnings of any specific threat, just good reason to believe something really bad was about to happen."

    The president fired Rice immediately after her admission, but this did little to quell public anger regarding the war in Afghanistan. When it was revealed that U.S. special forces were also carrying out attacks against suspected terrorist bases in Indonesia and Pakistan, fury against the United States became universal, with even Israel condemning American action as "totally unjustified."

    Speaking briefly to reporters on the South Lawn of the White House before a helicopter carried him out of Washington as the first-ever president removed by impeachment, Bush seemed bitter. "I was given bad advice," he insisted. "My advisers told me that unless we took decisive action, thousands of innocent Americans might die. Obviously I should not have listened."

    Announcing his candidacy for the 2004 Republican presidential nomination, Senator John McCain said today that "George W. Bush was very foolish and na?ve; he didn't realize he was being pushed into this needless conflict by oil interests that wanted to seize Afghanistan to run a pipeline across it." McCain spoke at a campaign rally at the World Trade Center in New York City.


    The original of this is here, and many thanks to Barb for the heads up.





        Thursday, April 08, 2004

    I LOVE THIS SHIT!!!

    If you are not going to this site every day, you are wrong.


    Mosquerade



    Mosquerade-X.gif





       

    Goddess...Ann...yadda yadda...

    I am worn out, but The Goddess requires worship...

    Go...




       

    Nonsense At 11...

    It is very tiring and tiresome to rail at the daily assault on our senses by the 'news' media. The Big Lie gets reprinted every day, and passed out to the brain-dead 'Public' by painted and powdered News Pimps, and, since we've grown up from babyhood with it's hypnotic drone, we accept it and move on.

    Nevertheless, it kills me that I have to sieve the internet for news of a hot war because the penile peccadilloes of a soccer star are deemed to be more important to me than the peril our war fighters are enduring.

    As I write this, every channel is clogged with the inquisition of a macrocephalic negress by microcephalic morons, each pretending that some sort of 'Truth' is going to come out...and they all step aside respectfully at regular intervals so the troll from Ditech can hawk his wares.

    Jesus weeps...





        Wednesday, April 07, 2004

    Another Blog Dies An Ignominious Death...

    Mine. Dead. Neon letters flickering out, one by one...flies building up on the window ledges...

    Sigh...

    Well, when Tiger-Boy got chomped in the neck, that famous show closed down. Hey! Dammit! I blogged from work happily and had a nice relationship with my cadre of readers a year ago! What happened?

    Fickle Fucks...

    I never liked any of you anyway...
    ...sorry...never mind, that's just the wine and constipation talking. Let me go blow a log, and everything will be A-O-K ...except for maybe that spatter on the bottom of the seat.

    People talk shit about how much time we spend in our beds, what about how much time we spend on the toilet, eh? Why doesn't Sealy make an ass-massaging, bung-cleaning, Comfort Seat for America's shitters? Huh?

    I just heard my daughter squawk "I did have blood in my butt!!"

    She's constipated, too. I got to see the toilet paper. Thanks, honey. Sorry about dinner. Her brother is jealous...he is passing his doots just fine, with no blood trail to mark where his turd was dragged.

    Maybe the faggots have it right, that whole 'no progeny' thing.

    I'da been asleep an hour ago...





        Monday, April 05, 2004

    What Would You...

    ...call the candy that the killers of Matthew Shepherd used to moisten their mouths while they killed him?

    Yep...

    'Everlasting Fag-Stompers'

    I'll be here all week...be sure to tip your waitress...





       

    Rwanda...

    Come for the wildlife...

    ...stay for the genocide...





       

    Kurt Nobrain...

    Today is the anniversary of his murder by the vile Cuntney Love. I add this day to my pantheon of 'Happy Days'...

    Liberace...George and John, who've Beat their last Meatle...Elvis...hmmmm, oh, and 'Rocky Mountain Splat', Cherries Garcia (and just about any hippie fuck who's choked on their own puke since 1968 excepting Jimmie and Janis and Jim).

    Anybody you care to add?





       

    Best Cartoon Voice Ever?

    I think my vote has to go to 'Brain', as in 'Pinky and the...' That little rodent is so my total hero.

    Some weird defect (among many?) in my brain allows me to do flawless imitations of any voice I hear. I have really messed up folks over the phone a time or two...I do a killer Hank Hill, too.

    Funny thing is, you know how you always sound different to yourself when you hear yourself on tape? When I imitate someone to their face, they rarely hear it...it is their peers who crack up.

    Hey, blind people! You all suck! I hate you and your roly, egg-white looking eyes behind your dark glasses!

    Oh, shut up...they'll never know it unless you read that last to them, and you wouldn't be so cruel so as to do that now, would you?

    Bear the burden alone...





        Sunday, April 04, 2004

    Walking Tall...

    I am really beginning to enjoy The Rock as a movie star. I absolutely loved 'The Rundown', and I enjoyed his latest movie nearly as much, today.

    I saw the original 'Walking Tall' back in the 70's, when most of you were still shitting yellow and eating your snot as a recreational snack. Today's film is an updated version, and one that takes serious liberties with the true story it was based on, but I didn't care.

    Go see it for yourself, and make your own judgement. What left me with a sense of sadness...frustrated sadness, is that the theme of 'Everytown USA being rotten with crime and corruption' is so fucking true it makes me want to cry...while I run amok.

    Drop me anywhere in this country...ANYwhere, and I can bring you the drugs of your choice, several illegal weapons, and someone who will have sex with you for money within a couple of hours. Sad.

    And Casinos are the pure, beating heart of Evil. If you want to see a Hellmouth, go to any Casino. They are where dead souls go to piss away the rest of their existence. Behind the happy, shiny, smiling mask is the rotting face of a dead whore, maggots oozing from it's sunken eyes.

    Don't get me wrong...I ain't no Baptist. Gamble all you want. Dance, drink, and even pay for sex if you have to, just know that The Devil runs The House. Underneath the smell of room deodorizer, money, and perfume, you can smell the corpse-gas leaking up through the floorboards.

    If I have had one theme throughout this entire blog, it is that it is too late...it's time to 'pay the piper', 'Game Over', and it is all over but the crying.
    I love the Marvel comic character 'The Punisher'...I own all of the comics, and plan to see the movie.

    BUT!...and much like Fallujah in Iraq...in order to root out crime in America today, you'd have to destroy the patient to cure them.

    I'm down with that...





       

    Just For The Record...

    The Irish are dogs.

    Not Americans (well, maybe some of them), but those Loonperchauns from across the pond, acting like Palicrackers and whatnot. Heck, they even train the damn ragheads with explosives.

    The English would do well to cleanse the Emerald Isle of all of its vermin, not just the snakes that crawl on the ground.





        Saturday, April 03, 2004

    Would You Rather...

    ...talk to a Towelhead on the phone, or talk to a rapist?

    And folks wonder why there's an epidemic of identity theft. Sorry, Humanity, but I hate your stupid fucking guts.

    Dipshits. I don't suppose 'None of the Above' is a choice, do you?





       

    On The Path To Blogvana...

    I am approaching contentment. Perhaps with a small side of happiness. I went through a bout of Postarrhea there for a few months, and I moved too far ahead of my supply line for people to catch up. I'm sure readers fell away from exhaustion, despairing of keeping up. Now that my posting has become more spotty, it seems folks are able to savor it more, sit around the coffee shop, and comment more, and more leisurely.

    Yesterday, my new boss took me out for breakfast, and thence to Fry's, where he told me to pick any computer I wanted for my work computer. He put it on his Visa. Then, on the way back, we stopped at a trailer place and he put a nice hauling trailer on his Visa.

    And then he took me out to lunch.

    *Happy Sigh*

    It is nice to not have a worry whether or not your paycheck will bounce. We are in a committed relationship. I fully expect to retire or die in this job.

    I should be able to blog occasionally from work, but I'm not gonna bust my ass to do it. I'll try to post a couple of times during the week. I really appreciate you guys dropping by.

    Funny thing? No matter how smooth life gets, the boiling pool of magma that is my hate and rage at the world is still there, in my own personal Ring of Fire. I try, but it sometimes boils over.

    Oh, well. Happy Saturday. Just don't get me started on 'Hellboy' and 'Walking Tall' being PG-13. That is some fucked up pussy bullshit.





       

    I Am Conflicted...

    Let me get it out of the way up front that I hate ragheads, and I am all for their disintegration by whatever means necessary, whenever anyone gets the urge. I look at it as fumigation. Fuck their 'culture', fuck their 'religion', and fuck their women and little babies. They have nothing I want, they are dangerous, and trying to search through the box to find the one or two that won't explode or bite your ass off is just not worth the trouble.

    Reading this morning that Arafart is "Not concerned..." about Sharon's threat to end his life gave me a Warm Fuzzy...you go stand in front of that window, Yasshole...let me know how that works out for ya.

    So, we clear? Ragheads...Dead...All for it...Me.

    Good.

    So why does it bother me that I'm not more bothered by the murders and mutilation of four non-military thrill-seekers who shouldn't have been there in the first place?

    I could be wrong. Those four 'civilian contractors' could have very easily been working for the CIA or whoever, and if so, then it's truly tragic. BUT, if they were just the money-grubbing, mid-life crisis thrillseekers they appear to be, then fukkem. I do not want one Marine to get so much as a hangnail rushing into a hornet's nest to scrape up their remains.

    What the Marines did, in my estimation, is show wise, wily restraint. I commend them for it. I would be very happy to have that sort of leadership at the top of my chain of command. A realistic assessment, and a realistic response. Good job.

    That being said, it's "olly olly oxen free!" time, now. We've hidden our eyes, and counted to one hundred, and now we are It, and it is time to come out and tag those little bastards.

    I recommend M-1's, supported by Bradley's, followed closely by dismounted Infantry. At night. Clouds of Hellfire equipped Predator drones overhead providing close air support. As the raghead bodies pile up, the Infantry should drag them out and place them under the tank treads to be ground into Allah-Burgers...throw piglets into the mix, and move on. Let their women see what you are doing, let them run away, let them spread the tale throughout the city, watch the men come forward to surrender, hands raised, cut them down with coaxial machine-gun fire...grind them up, and cut through the city like The Reaper.

    Let tales be told of this night, whispered by horrified mothers to future Iraqi children. Let them quake when they see an American soldier, piss in fear at the rumble of an American tank tread, flinch when a birds shadow falls over them, then laugh in embarrassment to each other, relieved that it wasn't death from above.

    Or else...