You can have peace. Or you can have freedom. Don't ever count on having both at once. - Robert A. Heinlein -
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Watch your shoes.
Hell, you know the answers already, don't you?
Why is Rep. Keith Ellison going on his own personal "I'm Muslim and I'm Proud!" Middle East tour?
Why the fuck are these people not laughed off the face of the earth?
Why are the worthless, anti-American Communists also known as the "Democrats" not even allowing a resolution to condemn Iran for kidnapping British sailors and Marines?
Why in the name of all that is holy does this stupid fucking bitch STILL have a TV career?
Thanks for all the RCOB's, Sondra. As if my blood pressure wasn't high enough. Gah.
Friday, March 30, 2007
How useless is the UN?
The U.N. Human Rights Council expressed concern over the situation in Darfur on Friday, but stopped short of criticizing Sudan's government.
The compromise resolution passed by consensus without a vote after Germany agreed to remove any mention of holding Khartoum responsible for the "armed attacks on civilian population and humanitarian workers, widespread destruction of villages, and continued and widespread violence."
Look, when this group can't even call a spade a spade, what use is it? The UN is worse than worthless, it is an IMPEDIMENT to world peace. I can't even muster up the anger to list all the faults of that group of ticks, leeches, worms, and other assorted parasites.
Nothing good can ever come out of that group. Nothing. Plain and simple. It needs to be destroyed and the ground it sits on razed flat.
What would you do?
Me? That's an easy question. I would buy a sailboat, 50 feet minimum, and sail around the globe, stopping in key port cities. It would probably take around two or three years to complete the trip.
OK, so maybe it would be bigger than 50 feet. But it would have to be something that I could sail by myself, at least for a short while. Because the only people I want on the boat is me, my wife, and my dog.
And, I'm back
I hate being sick. At least I'm not cooped up in the house.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, the
They truly are communists, folks. They just hide behind pretty words and statements, while working feverishly to impose their distorted ideology on America. Think about that when 2008 rolls around, will ya?
ADDED: From Captain's Quarters, a moment of
“When you guys win, you get to keep your money. When we win, we take your money.”
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Hoping against Hope
In other news, I'm so damn busy at work that I barely have room to take a breath or two inbetween missions. I'll post when I can.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
My thinking on the whole issue can be summed up in a quick paragraph - the British response SHOULD have been "If our people aren't released in twenty-four hours, the entire Iranian Navy will cease to exist." The US response should have been "We will support Great Britain in any endeavor to get her people back." And our carrier groups should have been waiting for the signal to turn the Iranian military into scrap metal. Unfortunately, none of the above happened as far as I can tell. So we're going to play the waiting game, and the talking game, until Iran finally pops a nuke in one of our cities, or a city of our allies.
And then all hell will break loose, and the damage caused by it will be much worse than if we dealt with Iran now. It's 1938 all over again, with NATO playing the part of Chamberlin, and Iran playing Hitler. Only Iran isn't playing at all, it's acting on what it wants to do, and nobody in the world wants to deal with them.
I fear for the future sometimes.
Well, that sucks
Monday, March 26, 2007
There's still good people living there
A Yarmouth man leaped into Barnstable Harbor to rescue a 5-year-old girl moments after she lost her balance and fell in, officials said.
Gary Richard was eating lunch with his girlfriend in their car Saturday afternoon near the Ocean Street docks when they saw the girl fall in the water. She had been throwing rocks from a dock into the harbor.
"I dropped my sandwich and ran," the 39-year-old told the Cape Cod Times.
Richard, who moved to Yarmouth from Fall River six months ago, looked down from the edge of the dock and saw the girl in the water about 6 feet below. "I saw her face and I just jumped," Richard said, describing the water as freezing. "It was so cold, it was painful."
The girl reached for him and Richard grabbed her under one of her arms. Richard held her up as the boyfriend of the girl's mother, who had been working on a boat nearby, took the child into his arms, police said.
Autumn Campinha, 5, of Barnstable appeared to be uninjured but was brought to Cape Cod Hospital as a precaution.
I have to admit, when I think of Massachusetts and drowning girls, the first thing I think of is Ted (hic!) Kennedy. It's nice to read a story about the opposite behavior.
Why I think America is going to the dogs
A 37-year-old man who was accused of having sex with his girlfriend's underage daughter under an alleged written contract with the girl and her mother was sentenced to several prison terms.
Michael Fitzgibbon was sentenced Friday to up to 15 years for each of four counts of third-degree criminal sexual conduct after prosecutors said he, his girlfriend and her daughter signed a contract allowing the teen to be his sex partner for two months. He was also sentenced to 12 to 25 years for each of two other cases involving first-degree criminal sexual conduct charges involving a 12-year-old girl. He is to serve the sentences at the same time.
Fitzgibbon pleaded no contest to the charges last month. A no contest plea is not an admission of guilt but is treated the same way for sentencing purposes.
The case arose after the woman, afraid of losing her boyfriend while recuperating from surgery, allegedly arranged for the three to sign a contract in June, The Muskegon Chronicle reported Saturday. In exchange for the sex, the 15-year-old testified she was to be paid and receive privileges, such as piercings, hair dyeing and permission to stay overnight with her own boyfriend.
OK Ladies, here's the deal - if the guy you're dating won't wait for sex while you recover from surgery, HE'S A WORTHLESS LOSER AND YOU NEED TO DUMP HIS PATHETIC ASS! But you do not, I repeat DO NOT loan out your 15 year old daughter as a rentable vagina! How in the hell do you even ask someone to do that? "Hi honey, I love ya, but since I can't do the nasty I want you to spread your legs for Michael until I'm back on my back, OK? Thanks!" Oh, and nice "privileges" too! "Mommy says if I fuck her boyfriend, I can get my clit pierced! Yay!"
How's that for being a fucked up family? And what kind of a guy goes for that crap, anyways? Just what kind of sick, twisted bastard do you have to be in order to screw your girlfriend's 15 year old daughter?
In a letter read by assistant Prosecutor Dale J. Hilson, the alleged victim wrote that since the incidents last summer, she has tried to commit suicide, was treated at a Grand Rapids psychiatric facility and is now undergoing therapy.
Gosh, maybe she's having problems because she was raised by a so-called "mother" who used her as a sex toy to keep a scumbag boyfriend around, hmmmm? I mean, being treated as a living blow-up doll probably isn't all that good for mental or sexual development, you know? Any so-called "mother" that would do a thing like this to her daugher probably doesn't have a really good set of parenting skills, right?
Jebus on a pogo stick. Crap like this makes my head ache.
32 things you can do with beer! I love it. By the way, Number 9 on the list - steaming mussels or clams - if you're lucky enough to get Redhook ESB where you live, try this recipie.
2 to 3 lbs. of clams
1/2 stick butter.
6 -7 large cloves of garlic
1 bottle ESB
Mince the garlic as fine as you can. Melt the butter in a large saucepan or skillet. While the butter is melting, toss the garlic in. As soon as the garlic starts to pop and turn brown, dump in the clams, followed immidiately by the beer. Cover for about 3-5 minutes. As the clams open, pull them out and put them into a bowl. It should take about 10-15 minutes for all the clams to open. If you have clams that do not open, throw them away! Any clams that don't open after 15 minutes were dead to begin with, and should not be eaten.
Once you have your steamed clams in a bowl, dump the remaining liquid from the pan into the bowl as well. Serve with a couple loaves of good, crusty italian bread or sourdough if you have it.
Yes, it's that damn good. But you've got to use Redhook ESB, or at least a good microbrew ESB, otherwise it just doesn't taste the same. Butter, garlic, and beer..... damn, I'm drooling now.
Why we drink
We drink because if we have to endure one more Friday afternoon meeting, we might just projectile vomit in Kevin's glandular, gnome like face. Just because you don't have a life doesn't mean the rest of us want to sit down at 4:45 on a Friday to discuss the company's direction for Q3. You see Jeff's left eye twitching? I'd give this meeting another 3 minutes before he reaches across the table and pulls one of your ears off, Kev. The man's in a custody battle for his children and you're taking time away from his weekend with them because you're a selfish, horrible man. And if Kevin does blow, you can bet your ass Mitch, the North West sales manager will. I swear that guy starts off cooking some chicken by biting their heads off. Do you hear his unending finger tapping on the faux-marble table? Notice how the pace quickens every few minutes? Well Kev, you've got a few more seconds of being a bullsh1t blowhard until Mitch pulls your heart of your f'ing chest.
We drink because there's no such thing as a good week of work.
We drink because there is no such thing as a uni-sex bathroom. It's a girls bathroom people. You wonder why us guys leave the office at least twice to three times a day, not including lunch? It's because we have to shit, and we can't very well sh1t in that veritable Globe Theatre of a restroom, where every sound is amplified ten fold. The one time I just had to go (note to Jessica, now that was a mission critical decision) and simply couldn't make it to the hotel across the street (those people must have caught on that I'm not staying there, considering they see me every day) I took a sh1t in the uni-sex bathroom, and what ensued was an anal-philharmonic, led by yours truly, in which the entire office was privy to every fart, grunt, and bowel-related sound effect I had to offer. I felt like taking a bow when I got out, possibly chugging some coffee and going in for an encore. So no, it's not uni-sex, it's a girl's room. You might as well stick a huge tampon on the door with a note reading 'No Y
Chromosomes allowed'. Oh, and Regina, I salute your utter shamelessness when it comes to sh1tting. I've never, ever seen a women carry the paper under arm when she walks into the bathroom. Truly, classic stuff.