I have maintained in a number of my emails that this nation is in trouble. Deep trouble. It's not Obama. It's not any one individual. It's the government. Multi-layered bureaucratic fiefdoms whose lords of the fiefdoms, and their many lieutenants, have more interest in attaining retirement and their pensions than doing the job they were elected and/or appointed to do.
The people are mad. Mad as hell. The Tea Party is not just a cute little group that gets together to wave banners and flags. They are sincere, hard-working (those that still have jobs) people who want this government to change . . . not only at the federal level, but the state level as well. They see government corruption, they see unjustified earmarks, they see big bailouts of big companies but also see those who have mortgages on their homes, those who own small businesses, left our in the cold. They have come together as a group, state by state and those who are in government who have any wisdom at all, are listening to them.
Things have to change and change quickly.
If it doesn't, I see guerilla warfare breaking out. I had predicted earlier that I didn't see violence happening for at least five years.
I think I was wrong.
I think we are much closer to a violent outbreak, scattered at first, but, following initial successes, spreading from state to state.
How would that come about?
The Tea Party or any other organized group could not possibly carry on open warfare with the US government and its military arms. Unless they went guerilla.
Guerilla warfare relies on the support of the people within the area that the guerillas operate. If they are in a geographic area where the citizenry are in support of the political aims the guerilla army seeks to attain, they will support the guerillas with food, with money, with shelter, with a variety of resources.
It worked in Vietnam. The North Vietnamese Army (a traditional military arm) and the Viet Cong (guerillas) joined forces to defeat the mighty United States of America with all its aircraft, navies, armies, and Marines. The Viet Cong, in particular, were hidden, were fed, were housed, by the people. Often 'the people' were, in fact, the Viet Cong.
It worked in Cuba. Ask a guy named Fidel Castro.
It's the only way an insurrection could work, and succeed, in America. Cells of 3-4 man teams to work as guerilla units . . . multiplied by the thousands, located in every state. No way the US government could defeat such a military force.
I pretty much agree with what Bill Clinton had to say over the weekend:
Former President Bill Clinton warned of a slippery slope from angry anti-government rhetoric to violence like the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing, saying "the words we use really do matter."
He also said . . .
"One of the things that the conservatives have always brought to the table in America is a reminder that no law can replace personal responsibility. And the more power you have and the more influence you have, the more responsibility you have."
What he didn't say is . . . government needs not only use that influence they have, exercise that responsibility they have, they have to not only listen, but listen intently and attentively; and they need to take action. They need to solve problems, not create them. And if they don't, the people will rise up and rid the government of those that are not doing their jobs . . . and this removal from office would be elected officials as well as bureaucrats. Those removals would often not be pretty. Coups often are not pleasant affairs.
It is not too difficult to read between the lines. Anyone who follows the news can readily discern the temperament of the people. Things are becoming hostile.
The government needs to start listening. And NOW.
I'm too old to be of much use in any kind of war - . . but I can still observe . . . and can still report what I see . . . and report what I fear.
And I fear this nation is heading for a terrible set of circumstances.
And that is a damned shame.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Diabetic Comas . . .
I awoke this morning feeling inebriated. I felt like I had at least two glasses of wine. And I wasn't totally awake. I was somewhere in the Twilight Zone. And, no, I had not been drinking.
Evelyn says, and I remember this, telling her I needed a hat, when she awakened and had gotten up out of bed. She said she looked at me and asked, "what for?" I didn't answer . . . but I remember her asking me. I don't think I have ever worn a hat in my life . . . but, for some reason, I needed a hat at that time. Reason? I had to to to Temple (I'm not Jewish) for some type of celebration. It was someone's birthday, I don't remember now whose it was. I saw Danuta there. Danuta was a lovely blond lady with whom I worked while at KFMB Radio in San Diego. She did the news, I did the traffic reports. We became friends . . . and then lovers, for about nine months (Mary and I were separated at the time. I had a lovely apartment on the beach at Cardiff, Danuta had a lovely condominium, on the beach, at Coronado. We spent a lot of time on the beach. I would reconcile with Mary about a year later and we stayed together for a considerable time after that; Danuta and I remained friends and continued to work together, but the romance was over. She moved on to another guy, I had returned to my wife).
During this altered state I was in this morning (where I wore a hat like a rabbi and went to Temple), I remember going up to Danuta and telling her she was wearing way too much makeup. I was very diplomatic about it, but I told her. She was a naturally beautiful blond and did not need a lot of makeup. I remember she had gone way overboard on her eyeshadow.
I don't remember where this dream or hallucination went after that . . .but I remember waking up fully, feeling very weak, afraid to get out of bed for fear of falling down. I think I knew what was wrong.
I was in a diabetic coma due to low blood sugars.
I must have lain in bed for a good hour before finally getting up and going into the kitchen. I told Evelyn I needed honey, or some type of sugar. She had a whole carton of blackberries and I grabbed about two handfuls of them and scarfed them down. She also had already fixed me some oatmeal and it had yogurt, blueberries and strawberries . . . so I scarfed that down as well. (Fruits have natural sugars).
My mind slowly began to clear and once it had cleared sufficiently, I came to the trusty old computer and typed into Google "diabetic coma symptoms." Sure enough, the Mayo Clinic listed "confusion," the WebMD.com site listed "altered mental state."
I was both of those. Again, I felt as though I was somewhat inebriated. Pleasant, yet strange feeling in a strange, new world. But it's a dangerous place to be, in a diabetic coma. You can die from it.
I just recently saw an endocrinologist. She adjusted my insulin schedule and I simply misread her instructions and took 8 too many units of insulin last night.
Evelyn is now scolding me, telling me I absolutely must get my blood sugars under control and pay more attention to the insulin schedule.
And she's right.
Even if it means I probably will never see Danuta again.*
*(Just joking. Danuta now lives in Oregon; she is either married to, or living with some new guy, I'm not sure which. Doesn't matter. She was and is a great gal, and a wonderful memory. But she's part of my past, not the present, nor the future).
Evelyn says, and I remember this, telling her I needed a hat, when she awakened and had gotten up out of bed. She said she looked at me and asked, "what for?" I didn't answer . . . but I remember her asking me. I don't think I have ever worn a hat in my life . . . but, for some reason, I needed a hat at that time. Reason? I had to to to Temple (I'm not Jewish) for some type of celebration. It was someone's birthday, I don't remember now whose it was. I saw Danuta there. Danuta was a lovely blond lady with whom I worked while at KFMB Radio in San Diego. She did the news, I did the traffic reports. We became friends . . . and then lovers, for about nine months (Mary and I were separated at the time. I had a lovely apartment on the beach at Cardiff, Danuta had a lovely condominium, on the beach, at Coronado. We spent a lot of time on the beach. I would reconcile with Mary about a year later and we stayed together for a considerable time after that; Danuta and I remained friends and continued to work together, but the romance was over. She moved on to another guy, I had returned to my wife).
During this altered state I was in this morning (where I wore a hat like a rabbi and went to Temple), I remember going up to Danuta and telling her she was wearing way too much makeup. I was very diplomatic about it, but I told her. She was a naturally beautiful blond and did not need a lot of makeup. I remember she had gone way overboard on her eyeshadow.
I don't remember where this dream or hallucination went after that . . .but I remember waking up fully, feeling very weak, afraid to get out of bed for fear of falling down. I think I knew what was wrong.
I was in a diabetic coma due to low blood sugars.
I must have lain in bed for a good hour before finally getting up and going into the kitchen. I told Evelyn I needed honey, or some type of sugar. She had a whole carton of blackberries and I grabbed about two handfuls of them and scarfed them down. She also had already fixed me some oatmeal and it had yogurt, blueberries and strawberries . . . so I scarfed that down as well. (Fruits have natural sugars).
My mind slowly began to clear and once it had cleared sufficiently, I came to the trusty old computer and typed into Google "diabetic coma symptoms." Sure enough, the Mayo Clinic listed "confusion," the WebMD.com site listed "altered mental state."
I was both of those. Again, I felt as though I was somewhat inebriated. Pleasant, yet strange feeling in a strange, new world. But it's a dangerous place to be, in a diabetic coma. You can die from it.
I just recently saw an endocrinologist. She adjusted my insulin schedule and I simply misread her instructions and took 8 too many units of insulin last night.
Evelyn is now scolding me, telling me I absolutely must get my blood sugars under control and pay more attention to the insulin schedule.
And she's right.
Even if it means I probably will never see Danuta again.*
*(Just joking. Danuta now lives in Oregon; she is either married to, or living with some new guy, I'm not sure which. Doesn't matter. She was and is a great gal, and a wonderful memory. But she's part of my past, not the present, nor the future).
The Girls and The Restaurant
A group of 40 year old girlfriends discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed upon that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the waiters there had tight pants and nice buns.
10 years later at 50 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the food there was very good and the wine selection was good also.
10 years later at 60 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because they could eat there in peace and quiet and the restaurant had a beautiful view of the ocean.
10 years later, at 70 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the restaurant was wheel chair accessible and they even had an elevator.
10 years later, at 80 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because they had never been there before.
10 years later at 50 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the food there was very good and the wine selection was good also.
10 years later at 60 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because they could eat there in peace and quiet and the restaurant had a beautiful view of the ocean.
10 years later, at 70 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the restaurant was wheel chair accessible and they even had an elevator.
10 years later, at 80 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because they had never been there before.
A trip down memory lane.
Remember?
You have to be a certain age to appreciate this. I can hear my mother now ...
THE BASIC RULES FOR CLOTHESLINES: (if you don't know what clotheslines are, better skip this)
1. You had to wash the clothes line before hanging any clothes - walk the entire lengths of each line with a damp cloth around the lines.
2. You had to hang the clothes in a certain order, and always hang "whites" with "whites," and hang them first.
3. You never hung a shirt by the shoulders - always by the tail!. What would the neighbors think?
4.. Wash day on a Monday! . .. . Never hang clothes on the weekend, or Sunday, for Heaven's sake!
5. Hang the sheets and towels on the outside lines so you could hide your "unmentionables" in the middle (perverts & busybodies, y'know!)
6. It didn't matter if it was sub zero weather ... clothes would "freeze-dry."
7. Always gather the clothes pins when taking down dry clothes! Pins left on the lines were "tacky!"
8. If you were efficient, you would line the clothes up so that each item did not need two clothes pins, but shared one of the clothes pins with the next washed item.
9. Clothes off of the line before dinner time, neatly folded in the clothes basket, and ready to be ironed.
10. IRONED? Well, that's a whole other subject!
A POEM
A clothesline was a news forecast
To neighbors passing by,
There were no secrets you could keep
When clothes were hung to dry.
It also was a friendly link
For neighbors always knew
If company had stopped on by
To spend a night or two.
For then you'd see the "fancy sheets"
And towels upon the line;
You'd see the "company table cloths"
With intricate designs.
The line announced a baby's birth
From folks who lived inside -
As brand new infant clothes were hung,
So carefully with pride!
The ages of the children could
So readily be known
By watching how the sizes changed,
You'd know how much they'd grown!
It also told when illness struck,
As extra sheets were hung;
Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe, too,
Haphazardly were strung.
It also said, "Gone on vacation now"
When lines hung limp and bare.
It told, "We're back!" when full lines sagged
With not an inch to spare!
New folks in town were scorned upon
If wash was dingy and gray,
As neighbors carefully raised their brows,
And looked the other way .. . .
But clotheslines now are of the past,
For dryers make work much less.
Now what goes on inside a home
Is anybody's guess!
I really miss that way of life.
It was a friendly sign
When neighbors knew each other best
By what hung on the line.
You have to be a certain age to appreciate this. I can hear my mother now ...
THE BASIC RULES FOR CLOTHESLINES: (if you don't know what clotheslines are, better skip this)
1. You had to wash the clothes line before hanging any clothes - walk the entire lengths of each line with a damp cloth around the lines.
2. You had to hang the clothes in a certain order, and always hang "whites" with "whites," and hang them first.
3. You never hung a shirt by the shoulders - always by the tail!. What would the neighbors think?
4.. Wash day on a Monday! . .. . Never hang clothes on the weekend, or Sunday, for Heaven's sake!
5. Hang the sheets and towels on the outside lines so you could hide your "unmentionables" in the middle (perverts & busybodies, y'know!)
6. It didn't matter if it was sub zero weather ... clothes would "freeze-dry."
7. Always gather the clothes pins when taking down dry clothes! Pins left on the lines were "tacky!"
8. If you were efficient, you would line the clothes up so that each item did not need two clothes pins, but shared one of the clothes pins with the next washed item.
9. Clothes off of the line before dinner time, neatly folded in the clothes basket, and ready to be ironed.
10. IRONED? Well, that's a whole other subject!
A POEM
A clothesline was a news forecast
To neighbors passing by,
There were no secrets you could keep
When clothes were hung to dry.
It also was a friendly link
For neighbors always knew
If company had stopped on by
To spend a night or two.
For then you'd see the "fancy sheets"
And towels upon the line;
You'd see the "company table cloths"
With intricate designs.
The line announced a baby's birth
From folks who lived inside -
As brand new infant clothes were hung,
So carefully with pride!
The ages of the children could
So readily be known
By watching how the sizes changed,
You'd know how much they'd grown!
It also told when illness struck,
As extra sheets were hung;
Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe, too,
Haphazardly were strung.
It also said, "Gone on vacation now"
When lines hung limp and bare.
It told, "We're back!" when full lines sagged
With not an inch to spare!
New folks in town were scorned upon
If wash was dingy and gray,
As neighbors carefully raised their brows,
And looked the other way .. . .
But clotheslines now are of the past,
For dryers make work much less.
Now what goes on inside a home
Is anybody's guess!
I really miss that way of life.
It was a friendly sign
When neighbors knew each other best
By what hung on the line.
Perspective is everything!
Two little kids are in a hospital, lying on beds next to each other, outside the operating room.
The first kid leans over and asks, "What are you in here for?"
The second kid says, "I'm in here to get my tonsils out and I'm a little nervous."
The first kid says, "You've got nothing to worry about. I had that done when I was four. They put you to sleep, and when you wake up they give you lots of Jell-O and ice-cream. It's a breeze."
The second kid then asks, "What are you here for?"
The first kid says, "A circumcision."
And the second kid says, "Whoa, Good luck, buddy, I had that done when I was born...
Couldn't walk for a year.... “
The first kid leans over and asks, "What are you in here for?"
The second kid says, "I'm in here to get my tonsils out and I'm a little nervous."
The first kid says, "You've got nothing to worry about. I had that done when I was four. They put you to sleep, and when you wake up they give you lots of Jell-O and ice-cream. It's a breeze."
The second kid then asks, "What are you here for?"
The first kid says, "A circumcision."
And the second kid says, "Whoa, Good luck, buddy, I had that done when I was born...
Couldn't walk for a year.... “
25 REASONS I OWE MY MOTHER
1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE.
"If you"re going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning."
2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
"You better pray that will come out of the carpet."
3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL.
"If you don"t straighten up, I"m going to knock you into the middle of next week!"
4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
"Because I said so, that"s why."
5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
"If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you"re not going to the store with me."
6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you"re in an accident."
7. My mother taught me IRONY
"Keep crying, and I"ll give you something to cry about."
8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
"Shut your mouth and eat your supper."
9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
"Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"
10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
"You"ll sit there until all that spinach is gone."
11. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
"This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."
12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
"If I told you once, I"ve told you a million times. Don"t exaggerate!"
13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."
14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION.
"Stop acting like your father!"
15. My mother taught me about ENVY.
"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don"t have wonderful parents like you do."
16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
"Just wait until we get home."
17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING.
"You are going to get it when you get home!"
18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
"If you don"t stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."
19. My mother taught me ESP.
"Put your sweater on; don"t you think I know when you are cold?"
20. My mother taught me HUMOR.
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don"t come running to me."
21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
"If you don"t eat your vegetables, you"ll never grow up."
22. My mother taught me GENETICS.
"You"re just like your father."
23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
"Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?"
24. My mother taught me WISDOM.
"When you get to be my age, you"ll understand."
25. My mother taught me about JUSTICE
"One day you"ll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you!"
"If you"re going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning."
2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
"You better pray that will come out of the carpet."
3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL.
"If you don"t straighten up, I"m going to knock you into the middle of next week!"
4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
"Because I said so, that"s why."
5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
"If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you"re not going to the store with me."
6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you"re in an accident."
7. My mother taught me IRONY
"Keep crying, and I"ll give you something to cry about."
8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
"Shut your mouth and eat your supper."
9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
"Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"
10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
"You"ll sit there until all that spinach is gone."
11. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
"This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."
12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
"If I told you once, I"ve told you a million times. Don"t exaggerate!"
13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."
14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION.
"Stop acting like your father!"
15. My mother taught me about ENVY.
"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don"t have wonderful parents like you do."
16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
"Just wait until we get home."
17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING.
"You are going to get it when you get home!"
18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
"If you don"t stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."
19. My mother taught me ESP.
"Put your sweater on; don"t you think I know when you are cold?"
20. My mother taught me HUMOR.
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don"t come running to me."
21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
"If you don"t eat your vegetables, you"ll never grow up."
22. My mother taught me GENETICS.
"You"re just like your father."
23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
"Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?"
24. My mother taught me WISDOM.
"When you get to be my age, you"ll understand."
25. My mother taught me about JUSTICE
"One day you"ll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you!"
Daffynitions . . .
1. Ratio of an igloo's circumference to its diameter = Eskimo Pi
2. 2000 pounds of Chinese soup = Won ton
3. 1 millionth of a mouthwash = 1 microscope
4. Time between slipping on a peel and smacking the pavement = 1
bananosecond
5. Weight an evangelist carries with God = 1 billigram
6. Time it takes to sail 220 yards at 1 nautical mile per hour =
Knotfurlong
7. 16.5 feet in the Twilight Zone = 1 Rod Serling
8. Half of a large intestine = 1 semicolon
9. 1,000,000 aches = 1 megahurtz
10. Basic unit of laryngitis = 1 hoarsepower
11. Shortest distance between two jokes = A straight line
12. 453.6 graham crackers = 1 pound cake
13. 1 million-million microphones = 1 megaphone
14. 2 million bicycles = 2 megacycles
15. 365.25 days = 1 unicycle
16. 2000 mockingbirds = 2 kilomockingbirds
17. 52 cards = 1 decacards
18. 1 kilogram of falling figs = 1 FigNewton
19. 1000 milliliters of wet socks = 1 literhosen
20. 1 millionth of a fish = 1 microfiche
21. 1 trillion pins = 1 terrapin
22. 10 rations = 1 decoration
23. 100 rations = 1 C-ration
24. 2 monograms = 1 diagram
25. 4 nickels = 2 paradigms
(Sorry Lyle, but it takes 8 nickles to make 2 paradigms. What? You thought I wouldn't notice?)
26. 2.4 statute miles of intravenous surgical tubing at Yale University
Hospital = 1 IV League
27. 100 Senators = Not 1 decision
2. 2000 pounds of Chinese soup = Won ton
3. 1 millionth of a mouthwash = 1 microscope
4. Time between slipping on a peel and smacking the pavement = 1
bananosecond
5. Weight an evangelist carries with God = 1 billigram
6. Time it takes to sail 220 yards at 1 nautical mile per hour =
Knotfurlong
7. 16.5 feet in the Twilight Zone = 1 Rod Serling
8. Half of a large intestine = 1 semicolon
9. 1,000,000 aches = 1 megahurtz
10. Basic unit of laryngitis = 1 hoarsepower
11. Shortest distance between two jokes = A straight line
12. 453.6 graham crackers = 1 pound cake
13. 1 million-million microphones = 1 megaphone
14. 2 million bicycles = 2 megacycles
15. 365.25 days = 1 unicycle
16. 2000 mockingbirds = 2 kilomockingbirds
17. 52 cards = 1 decacards
18. 1 kilogram of falling figs = 1 FigNewton
19. 1000 milliliters of wet socks = 1 literhosen
20. 1 millionth of a fish = 1 microfiche
21. 1 trillion pins = 1 terrapin
22. 10 rations = 1 decoration
23. 100 rations = 1 C-ration
24. 2 monograms = 1 diagram
25. 4 nickels = 2 paradigms
(Sorry Lyle, but it takes 8 nickles to make 2 paradigms. What? You thought I wouldn't notice?)
26. 2.4 statute miles of intravenous surgical tubing at Yale University
Hospital = 1 IV League
27. 100 Senators = Not 1 decision
Honor Thy Father . . .
A priest was being honored at his retirement dinner after 25 years in the Parish. A leading senator and member of the congregation was chosen to make the presentation and give a little speech at the dinner. He was delayed, so the priest decided to say his own words while they waited.
"I got my first impression of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first person who entered my confessional told me he had stolen a television set and, when questioned by the police, was able to lie his way out of it. He had stolen money from his parents, embezzled from his employer, had an affair with his boss' wife; taken illegal drugs, and gave VD to his sister.
I was appalled. But as the days went on I knew that my people were not all like that and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people"...
Just as the priest finished his talk, the senator arrived full of apologies at being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and gave his talk. "I'll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived," said the politician. "In fact, I had the honor of being the first person to go to him for confession."
"I got my first impression of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first person who entered my confessional told me he had stolen a television set and, when questioned by the police, was able to lie his way out of it. He had stolen money from his parents, embezzled from his employer, had an affair with his boss' wife; taken illegal drugs, and gave VD to his sister.
I was appalled. But as the days went on I knew that my people were not all like that and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people"...
Just as the priest finished his talk, the senator arrived full of apologies at being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and gave his talk. "I'll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived," said the politician. "In fact, I had the honor of being the first person to go to him for confession."
Drinking Exercises
THINGS THAT ARE DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Innovative
2. Preliminary
3. Proliferation
4. Cinnamon
THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Specificity
2. Anti-constitutionalistically
3. Passive-aggressive disorder
4. Transubstantiate
THINGS THAT ARE DOWN RIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. No thanks, I'm married.
2. Nope, no more booze for me!
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. Kebab? No thanks, I'm not hungry.
5. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
6. Oh, I couldn't! No one wants to hear me sing karaoke.
7. I'm not interested in fighting you.
8. Thank you, but I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no coordination. I'd hate to look like a fool!
9. I must be going home now, as I have to work in the morning.
1. Innovative
2. Preliminary
3. Proliferation
4. Cinnamon
THINGS THAT ARE VERY DIFFICULT TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. Specificity
2. Anti-constitutionalistically
3. Passive-aggressive disorder
4. Transubstantiate
THINGS THAT ARE DOWN RIGHT IMPOSSIBLE TO SAY WHEN DRUNK:
1. No thanks, I'm married.
2. Nope, no more booze for me!
3. Sorry, but you're not really my type.
4. Kebab? No thanks, I'm not hungry.
5. Good evening, officer. Isn't it lovely out tonight?
6. Oh, I couldn't! No one wants to hear me sing karaoke.
7. I'm not interested in fighting you.
8. Thank you, but I won't make any attempt to dance, I have no coordination. I'd hate to look like a fool!
9. I must be going home now, as I have to work in the morning.
The Three Way Test . . .
Keep this philosophy in mind the next time you hear, or are out to repeat a rumor.
In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance, who ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students...?"
"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before you tell me, I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Test of Three."
"Test of Three?"
"That's correct," Socrates continued.
"Before you talk to me about my student let's take a moment to test what you're going to say. The firsttest is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"
"No," the man replied, "actually I just heard about it."
"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second test, the test of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?"
"No, on the contrary..."
"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him even though you're not certain it's true?"
The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.
Socrates continued, "You may still pass though because there is a third test - the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?"
"No, not really..."
"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?"
The man was defeated and ashamed and said no more.
This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem.
It also explains why Socrates never found out that Plato was banging his wife.
In ancient Greece (469 - 399 BC), Socrates was widely lauded for his wisdom. One day the great philosopher came upon an acquaintance, who ran up to him excitedly and said, "Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students...?"
"Wait a moment," Socrates replied. "Before you tell me, I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Test of Three."
"Test of Three?"
"That's correct," Socrates continued.
"Before you talk to me about my student let's take a moment to test what you're going to say. The firsttest is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?"
"No," the man replied, "actually I just heard about it."
"All right," said Socrates. "So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second test, the test of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?"
"No, on the contrary..."
"So," Socrates continued, "you want to tell me something bad about him even though you're not certain it's true?"
The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.
Socrates continued, "You may still pass though because there is a third test - the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?"
"No, not really..."
"Well," concluded Socrates, "if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?"
The man was defeated and ashamed and said no more.
This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem.
It also explains why Socrates never found out that Plato was banging his wife.
A Memorable Presentation
Dr. Epstein was a renowned physician who earned his undergraduate, graduate, and medical degrees in his home town and then left for Manhattan, where he quickly rose to the top of his field.
Soon he was invited to deliver a significant paper, at a conference, coincidentally held in his home town.
He walked on stage and placed his papers on the lectern, but they slid off onto the floor. As he bent over to retrieve them, at precisely the wrong instant, he inadvertently farted.
The microphone amplified his mistake resoundingly through the room and reverberated it down the hall!
He was quite embarrassed but somehow regained his composure just enough to deliver his paper.
He ignored the resounding applause and raced out the stage door, never to be seen in his home town again.
Decades later, when his elderly mother was ill, he returned to visit her. He reserved a hotel room under the name of Levy and arrived under cover of darkness.
The desk clerk asked him, "Is this your first visit to our city, Mr. Levy?"
Dr. Epstein replied, "Well, young man, no, it isn't. I grew up here and received my education here, but then I moved away."
Why haven't you visited?" asked the desk clerk.
Actually, I did visit once, many years ago, but an embarrassing thing happened and since then I've been too ashamed to return."
The clerk consoled him. "Sir, while I don't have your life experience, one thing I have learned is that often what seems embarrassing to me isn't even remembered
by others. I bet that's true of your incident too."
Dr. Epstein replied, "Son, I doubt that's the case with my incident."
"Was it a long time ago?"
"Yes, many years."
The clerk asked, "Was it before or after the Epstein Fart?"
Soon he was invited to deliver a significant paper, at a conference, coincidentally held in his home town.
He walked on stage and placed his papers on the lectern, but they slid off onto the floor. As he bent over to retrieve them, at precisely the wrong instant, he inadvertently farted.
The microphone amplified his mistake resoundingly through the room and reverberated it down the hall!
He was quite embarrassed but somehow regained his composure just enough to deliver his paper.
He ignored the resounding applause and raced out the stage door, never to be seen in his home town again.
Decades later, when his elderly mother was ill, he returned to visit her. He reserved a hotel room under the name of Levy and arrived under cover of darkness.
The desk clerk asked him, "Is this your first visit to our city, Mr. Levy?"
Dr. Epstein replied, "Well, young man, no, it isn't. I grew up here and received my education here, but then I moved away."
Why haven't you visited?" asked the desk clerk.
Actually, I did visit once, many years ago, but an embarrassing thing happened and since then I've been too ashamed to return."
The clerk consoled him. "Sir, while I don't have your life experience, one thing I have learned is that often what seems embarrassing to me isn't even remembered
by others. I bet that's true of your incident too."
Dr. Epstein replied, "Son, I doubt that's the case with my incident."
"Was it a long time ago?"
"Yes, many years."
The clerk asked, "Was it before or after the Epstein Fart?"
Can I borrow $25?
A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.
SON: ' Daddy, may I ask you a question? '
DAD: 'Yeah sure, what it is?' replied the man.
SON: 'Daddy, how much do you make an hour?'
DAD: 'That ' s none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?' the man said angrily.
SON: 'I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?'
DAD: 'If you must know, I make $50 an hour.'
SON: 'Oh,' the little boy replied, with his head down.
SON: 'Daddy, may I please borrow $25?'
The father was furious, 'If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I don ' t work hard everyday for such childish frivolities.'
The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.
The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money?
After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think:
Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $25.00 and he really didn't ask for money very often The man went to the door of the little boy ' s room and opened the door.
' Are you asleep, son?' He asked.
'No daddy, I'm awake,' replied the boy.
'I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier' said the man. 'It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $25 you asked for.'
The little boy sat straight up, smiling. 'Oh, thank you daddy!' he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills.
The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again.
The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father.
'Why do you want more money if you already have some?' the father grumbled.
'Because I didn't have enough,but now I do,' the little boy replied.
'Daddy, I have $50 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.'
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness.
It ' s just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts. Do remember to share that $50 worth of your time with someone you love.
If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of hours. But the family & friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives.
SON: ' Daddy, may I ask you a question? '
DAD: 'Yeah sure, what it is?' replied the man.
SON: 'Daddy, how much do you make an hour?'
DAD: 'That ' s none of your business. Why do you ask such a thing?' the man said angrily.
SON: 'I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?'
DAD: 'If you must know, I make $50 an hour.'
SON: 'Oh,' the little boy replied, with his head down.
SON: 'Daddy, may I please borrow $25?'
The father was furious, 'If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I don ' t work hard everyday for such childish frivolities.'
The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.
The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money?
After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down, and started to think:
Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $25.00 and he really didn't ask for money very often The man went to the door of the little boy ' s room and opened the door.
' Are you asleep, son?' He asked.
'No daddy, I'm awake,' replied the boy.
'I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier' said the man. 'It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $25 you asked for.'
The little boy sat straight up, smiling. 'Oh, thank you daddy!' he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills.
The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again.
The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father.
'Why do you want more money if you already have some?' the father grumbled.
'Because I didn't have enough,but now I do,' the little boy replied.
'Daddy, I have $50 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.'
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness.
It ' s just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts. Do remember to share that $50 worth of your time with someone you love.
If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of hours. But the family & friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives.
Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood . . .
Doing some channel surfing recently and, several times, have come across the late Fred Rogers, he of the kiddie tv show on PBS.
I'm not sure my kids watched Mr. Rogers all that much when they were growing up. I don't think I've ever watched one of his shows from beginning to end . . . but I've caught snippets here and there. I remember thinking, "What a genuine man this guy is. What a kind, gentle person. What a communicator to kids." Clearly, he cared about kids and did not talk down to them. His videos of visits to factories, to see how things were made, his visiting "guests," artists, musicians, etc., were informative and educational. (Though I didn't care much for his puppet shows with the King and his castle. That's when I would hit the remote and move to another channel).
I remember having a deep sense of loss when he died. I really liked the guy. Still do.
What got me to thinking about him again was, again, channel surfing this afternoon between football games. PBS had a special program called "Speedy Delivery," which focused on Mr. McFeeley (I believe his name was. I believe I read somewhere that Mr. McFeeley was named after Fred Rogers' father-in-law). He was also known as "Speedy Delivery," and it became his catch phrase.)
I think his real name is David Newell.
I just caught bits and pieces of it but found it to be quite interesting, this chronicle of who Mr. McFeeley really was and how it all came to be.
This was a another very kind and gentle soul who clearly loved kids and loved his job of communicating with kids. The interaction between Mr. McFeeley and Fred Rogers was genuine. There was a warm bond of friendship there, both in-character and off screen.
I wonder how many children from our era watched Mr. Rogers . . . and genuinely cared about him, every bit as much as Big Bird and the Cookie Monster.
I hope television will continue to find time and space for the kind and gentle souls like Fred Rogers and Mr. McFeeley.
We need more folks like this and less of the rabble-rousers and negative people.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I'm not sure my kids watched Mr. Rogers all that much when they were growing up. I don't think I've ever watched one of his shows from beginning to end . . . but I've caught snippets here and there. I remember thinking, "What a genuine man this guy is. What a kind, gentle person. What a communicator to kids." Clearly, he cared about kids and did not talk down to them. His videos of visits to factories, to see how things were made, his visiting "guests," artists, musicians, etc., were informative and educational. (Though I didn't care much for his puppet shows with the King and his castle. That's when I would hit the remote and move to another channel).
I remember having a deep sense of loss when he died. I really liked the guy. Still do.
What got me to thinking about him again was, again, channel surfing this afternoon between football games. PBS had a special program called "Speedy Delivery," which focused on Mr. McFeeley (I believe his name was. I believe I read somewhere that Mr. McFeeley was named after Fred Rogers' father-in-law). He was also known as "Speedy Delivery," and it became his catch phrase.)
I think his real name is David Newell.
I just caught bits and pieces of it but found it to be quite interesting, this chronicle of who Mr. McFeeley really was and how it all came to be.
This was a another very kind and gentle soul who clearly loved kids and loved his job of communicating with kids. The interaction between Mr. McFeeley and Fred Rogers was genuine. There was a warm bond of friendship there, both in-character and off screen.
I wonder how many children from our era watched Mr. Rogers . . . and genuinely cared about him, every bit as much as Big Bird and the Cookie Monster.
I hope television will continue to find time and space for the kind and gentle souls like Fred Rogers and Mr. McFeeley.
We need more folks like this and less of the rabble-rousers and negative people.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Men Problems . . .
A former high school classmate of mine posted this on an alumni network I created a couple years ago. She pointed out we've been teasing women about their problems for years . . . now it was the women's turn to enjoy watching us guys cringe.
This had me laughing repeatedly as I read it. Guys will howl at it . . . gals will probably snicker.
Enjoy:
This is from Marc Griffin, a freelance outdoor writer from Arkansas:
Before I get started, I warn you now, there is no easy way for a man nearing 50 to impart wisdom learned onto the next generation. Still, as my father and grandfather did, I look at it as almost a duty, a carrying on of generations, if you will. As such, this story may be long, for there is no short way to teach.
About two months ago my nuts started hurting me. It wasn't a sudden pain, just a gradual idea that my nuts hurt. Not a sharp pain, just a dull, continuous, ache. Being a man who believes in the wonders of modern medicine, I needed a doctor.
Now, I don't know if you ever googled "nut pain" but, I can tell you now, only about half of the search is related to medicine and doctors. The rest, the best I can tell, is related to walnuts, or chesnuts, or crazy people.
It turns out that I needed a gastro doctor, because apparently your nuts are somehow connected to your stomach.....go figure.....this whole thing is becoming a learning experience.
In order to spare you the details of a man grabbing my sack, let me just skip to telling you that I was diagnosed with hernias, s being the most important letter of that particluar word in this specific case. Yes, hernias, one on each side, which has, the best I can tell when I cough, caused my balls to get sucked up into my stomach, which must be why I needed a gastro doctor to begin with. Again, the things a man can learn just by living long enough.
At this point, the story gets a bit personal, but it must be told. The doc asks me if I ever had any trouble with my "testicals". I hate that word, it's like calling poontang a vagina, and was probably invented for people who didn't want to talk about the subject to begin with, so they made up a word nobody wanted to say. Anyway, it turns out that I did, as a kid, have a problem with my left, uh.........nut. From what I can remember of a child of 8 or 9, that sucker didn't want to come down into the world with the right one. It stayed hid up wherever nuts come from.
Now, I can't remember the exact content of the conversation between my dad and the doc back then, but the jist of it was that the doc said that if they did not fix the hung up ball, I would most likely never have kids and was a great risk of......uh......testicular cancer. The rest of the conversation surrounded the procedure, which included tying a string to my ball, and then pulling it down, and tying the other end of the string to my leg so that the unruly nut could be trained to stay with his partner.
Of course, being only 8 or 9, I didn't understand all of the terminology, but it was pretty damn clear, even at my tender age, that having one of your balls tied to your leg didn't seem like something a boy could just run around with without tearing his nut off, or at the very least, a chunk of his leg. I can vividly remember watching my dad mull the whole thing over in his mind, before he said something along the line of, "we'll go with no kids and cancer, thanks."
It turned out, my wayward ball found his way home, at least partially, but I never really gave it much thought. If you think about it, a fella don't begin scratching and adjusting his balls until he's a grown man. I can't say I ever missed that thing, and didn't even realize it worked things out on it's own until I was old enough to barely remember it not being there. Besides, I went on to father 5 children so it never became part of a discussion again, until this damn gastro doctor brought it up.
Now, I can't say I was really paying attention to the next thing the doc told me, because after a man grabs your nuts, makes you cough, and then puts his finger up next to those suckers until your eyes are about to pop out, your mind just shuts down. Apparently, your balls are connected to your stomach, but then they run straight into your eyeballs and into your brain. Who knew?
He said something about checking for cancer, and an ultrasound. I said, "huh?". He said, "I'll set you up for a testicular ultrasound before we talk about surgery, to make sure there are no issues we can't see." I can honestly say, without hestitation, that testicular ultrasound are two words I didn't even know you could put together. That's something you expect to read in a headline in the morning paper, something like, The Israeli's are massing troops on the border after learning that Iran has a secret testicular ultrasound plant. "Uh.........how's that go?" He explained that it was like an x-ray, only it gave a real time 3 dimensional picture of what your balls look like. Whatever.
The doc says, "you may want to shave your groin area, it'll save some time when you go in for the appointment with the ultrasound tech." Well hell, my day is just getting better and better. The best I can figure when I leave there is that my nuts are in my stomach, they may be ate up with cancer, and now they need to suffer the indignation of being hairless. Yes, I've heard that some of you younger dudes shave your nuts.....that's great.....you're stupid. I can prove you're stupid because I shaved mine 2 days before the ultrasound, and by day two it felt like a porcupine had taken up residence in my shorts. Why anyone would do that to themselves for the hell of it I don't know, and don't tell me that the women like it......who gives a fork what they like. Which, unfortunately, brings me to the lesson part of this story.
I go to the "imaging center" with my shaved balls, which are not really shaved because they now reside in my stomach, just behind my eyeballs.
I go through registration and eventually get taken to the exam room, where I sit, waiting..........waiting.........waiting.....until , in walks Carla.. Long dark hair and about 30 years old, not a knock out, but a fairly good looking gal. I figure she's gonna ask me some more questions and then the tech dude will come in and get this over with. But then Carla says, "I need you to lay down on the table. It's up to you, some men take all of their clothes off, some just their pants, and some just pull their pants down a ways. It's up to you, I'll leave the room, you can cover up with the sheet, and then I'll be back and we'll get started." I say, "WHAT? Who's doing this deal?" Carla says, "I am the tech, don't worry about it, it's painless." I refrain from saying, "yes, I know it's painless, in fact, I usually like to have some gal rubbing my nuts."
So Carla leaves and I sit there pondering my three options. I wonder for a bit why there ain't option 4, "just pull one of your balls through your zipper and we'll get some pictures", but there ain't. I opt for just taking my pants off, because laying there with my pants around my ankles seems dangerous if I decide I need to get out of there in a hurry.
So here comes Carla, and I'm laying there like a goof with a sheet over me....wondering just how this is supposed to work.....and then Carla gets a tube of jelly and starts rubbing it in her hands. She pulls the sheet down and begins to rub the jelly on my balls. In a near panic, I realize that I better think of something I hate, and fast. For the life of me, the only thing that comes to my head is califlower....I hate that crap! I don't know how anyone eats it. Carla is rubbing my nuts and I'm like an Arab chanting at the wailing wall.....califlower, califlower, califlower.....she's talking to me, but I got my hand over my eyes....califlower, califlower,califlower.......she grabs a towel an puts it over my johnson, touching it a bit as she does....CALIFLOWER, CALIFLOWER, CALIFLOWER....this is gonna get ugly embarrassing.
Next thing I know, she says, "this may tickle a bit."
"WHOA......HOLD ON A MINUTE".
She ignores me and starts to run that damn vibrating ultrasonic pecker hardener on my balls.....OH DAMN, CALIFLOWER!
I'm still hiding my eyes and now I'm trying not to laugh, and the chant must be comingout of me because Carla says, "what?".....I have no idea what to say, so I blurt out, "you like califlower?" She says, "not really, what brought that up?" I can't talk.......and then she says, "your right testicle is a bit larger then your left testicle"......how the hell do you respond to something like that when the person who says it is a gal with a vibrator in her hand? "uh, thanks." She laughs.....califlower, califlower, califlower.....and I've about got tears in my eyes trying to figure out when this deal will end.
But no......more jelly, and on up toward the top of my balls.....I now envision entire fields of califlower, and people with califlower heads, and God help me, I can feel it coming. I says, "Uh"....and Carla says....I swear to God this mofo says, "don't worry if you get a bit aroused, it means all the parts are working."
You think?
I'm pretty sure at some point I just passed out......and when I woke up Carla was telling me I was clear.....no cancer......and I was thinking like my dad did 40 years ago, hell, I'd of just took the cancer if I'd have known where this whole deal was going.
The lesson?
There ain't one......I lied....there is no lesson, just life.
Still....it could happen to you.
This had me laughing repeatedly as I read it. Guys will howl at it . . . gals will probably snicker.
Enjoy:
This is from Marc Griffin, a freelance outdoor writer from Arkansas:
Before I get started, I warn you now, there is no easy way for a man nearing 50 to impart wisdom learned onto the next generation. Still, as my father and grandfather did, I look at it as almost a duty, a carrying on of generations, if you will. As such, this story may be long, for there is no short way to teach.
About two months ago my nuts started hurting me. It wasn't a sudden pain, just a gradual idea that my nuts hurt. Not a sharp pain, just a dull, continuous, ache. Being a man who believes in the wonders of modern medicine, I needed a doctor.
Now, I don't know if you ever googled "nut pain" but, I can tell you now, only about half of the search is related to medicine and doctors. The rest, the best I can tell, is related to walnuts, or chesnuts, or crazy people.
It turns out that I needed a gastro doctor, because apparently your nuts are somehow connected to your stomach.....go figure.....this whole thing is becoming a learning experience.
In order to spare you the details of a man grabbing my sack, let me just skip to telling you that I was diagnosed with hernias, s being the most important letter of that particluar word in this specific case. Yes, hernias, one on each side, which has, the best I can tell when I cough, caused my balls to get sucked up into my stomach, which must be why I needed a gastro doctor to begin with. Again, the things a man can learn just by living long enough.
At this point, the story gets a bit personal, but it must be told. The doc asks me if I ever had any trouble with my "testicals". I hate that word, it's like calling poontang a vagina, and was probably invented for people who didn't want to talk about the subject to begin with, so they made up a word nobody wanted to say. Anyway, it turns out that I did, as a kid, have a problem with my left, uh.........nut. From what I can remember of a child of 8 or 9, that sucker didn't want to come down into the world with the right one. It stayed hid up wherever nuts come from.
Now, I can't remember the exact content of the conversation between my dad and the doc back then, but the jist of it was that the doc said that if they did not fix the hung up ball, I would most likely never have kids and was a great risk of......uh......testicular cancer. The rest of the conversation surrounded the procedure, which included tying a string to my ball, and then pulling it down, and tying the other end of the string to my leg so that the unruly nut could be trained to stay with his partner.
Of course, being only 8 or 9, I didn't understand all of the terminology, but it was pretty damn clear, even at my tender age, that having one of your balls tied to your leg didn't seem like something a boy could just run around with without tearing his nut off, or at the very least, a chunk of his leg. I can vividly remember watching my dad mull the whole thing over in his mind, before he said something along the line of, "we'll go with no kids and cancer, thanks."
It turned out, my wayward ball found his way home, at least partially, but I never really gave it much thought. If you think about it, a fella don't begin scratching and adjusting his balls until he's a grown man. I can't say I ever missed that thing, and didn't even realize it worked things out on it's own until I was old enough to barely remember it not being there. Besides, I went on to father 5 children so it never became part of a discussion again, until this damn gastro doctor brought it up.
Now, I can't say I was really paying attention to the next thing the doc told me, because after a man grabs your nuts, makes you cough, and then puts his finger up next to those suckers until your eyes are about to pop out, your mind just shuts down. Apparently, your balls are connected to your stomach, but then they run straight into your eyeballs and into your brain. Who knew?
He said something about checking for cancer, and an ultrasound. I said, "huh?". He said, "I'll set you up for a testicular ultrasound before we talk about surgery, to make sure there are no issues we can't see." I can honestly say, without hestitation, that testicular ultrasound are two words I didn't even know you could put together. That's something you expect to read in a headline in the morning paper, something like, The Israeli's are massing troops on the border after learning that Iran has a secret testicular ultrasound plant. "Uh.........how's that go?" He explained that it was like an x-ray, only it gave a real time 3 dimensional picture of what your balls look like. Whatever.
The doc says, "you may want to shave your groin area, it'll save some time when you go in for the appointment with the ultrasound tech." Well hell, my day is just getting better and better. The best I can figure when I leave there is that my nuts are in my stomach, they may be ate up with cancer, and now they need to suffer the indignation of being hairless. Yes, I've heard that some of you younger dudes shave your nuts.....that's great.....you're stupid. I can prove you're stupid because I shaved mine 2 days before the ultrasound, and by day two it felt like a porcupine had taken up residence in my shorts. Why anyone would do that to themselves for the hell of it I don't know, and don't tell me that the women like it......who gives a fork what they like. Which, unfortunately, brings me to the lesson part of this story.
I go to the "imaging center" with my shaved balls, which are not really shaved because they now reside in my stomach, just behind my eyeballs.
I go through registration and eventually get taken to the exam room, where I sit, waiting..........waiting.........waiting.....until , in walks Carla.. Long dark hair and about 30 years old, not a knock out, but a fairly good looking gal. I figure she's gonna ask me some more questions and then the tech dude will come in and get this over with. But then Carla says, "I need you to lay down on the table. It's up to you, some men take all of their clothes off, some just their pants, and some just pull their pants down a ways. It's up to you, I'll leave the room, you can cover up with the sheet, and then I'll be back and we'll get started." I say, "WHAT? Who's doing this deal?" Carla says, "I am the tech, don't worry about it, it's painless." I refrain from saying, "yes, I know it's painless, in fact, I usually like to have some gal rubbing my nuts."
So Carla leaves and I sit there pondering my three options. I wonder for a bit why there ain't option 4, "just pull one of your balls through your zipper and we'll get some pictures", but there ain't. I opt for just taking my pants off, because laying there with my pants around my ankles seems dangerous if I decide I need to get out of there in a hurry.
So here comes Carla, and I'm laying there like a goof with a sheet over me....wondering just how this is supposed to work.....and then Carla gets a tube of jelly and starts rubbing it in her hands. She pulls the sheet down and begins to rub the jelly on my balls. In a near panic, I realize that I better think of something I hate, and fast. For the life of me, the only thing that comes to my head is califlower....I hate that crap! I don't know how anyone eats it. Carla is rubbing my nuts and I'm like an Arab chanting at the wailing wall.....califlower, califlower, califlower.....she's talking to me, but I got my hand over my eyes....califlower, califlower,califlower.......she grabs a towel an puts it over my johnson, touching it a bit as she does....CALIFLOWER, CALIFLOWER, CALIFLOWER....this is gonna get ugly embarrassing.
Next thing I know, she says, "this may tickle a bit."
"WHOA......HOLD ON A MINUTE".
She ignores me and starts to run that damn vibrating ultrasonic pecker hardener on my balls.....OH DAMN, CALIFLOWER!
I'm still hiding my eyes and now I'm trying not to laugh, and the chant must be comingout of me because Carla says, "what?".....I have no idea what to say, so I blurt out, "you like califlower?" She says, "not really, what brought that up?" I can't talk.......and then she says, "your right testicle is a bit larger then your left testicle"......how the hell do you respond to something like that when the person who says it is a gal with a vibrator in her hand? "uh, thanks." She laughs.....califlower, califlower, califlower.....and I've about got tears in my eyes trying to figure out when this deal will end.
But no......more jelly, and on up toward the top of my balls.....I now envision entire fields of califlower, and people with califlower heads, and God help me, I can feel it coming. I says, "Uh"....and Carla says....I swear to God this mofo says, "don't worry if you get a bit aroused, it means all the parts are working."
You think?
I'm pretty sure at some point I just passed out......and when I woke up Carla was telling me I was clear.....no cancer......and I was thinking like my dad did 40 years ago, hell, I'd of just took the cancer if I'd have known where this whole deal was going.
The lesson?
There ain't one......I lied....there is no lesson, just life.
Still....it could happen to you.
Vietnam Statistics
Vietnam.
"Of the 2,709,918 Americans who served in Vietnam, Less than 850,000 are estimated to be alive today, with the youngest American Vietnam veteran's age approximated to be 54 years old."
So, if you're alive and reading this, how Does it feel to be among the last 1/3rd of all the U.S. Vets who served in Viet Nam?! ...don't know about you guys, but kinda gives me the chills, Considering this is the kind of information I'm used to reading about WWII and Korean War vets.
So the last 14 years we are dying too fast, only the few will survive by 2015...if any.. If true; 390 VN vets die a day. So in 2190 days...from today, you'll be lucky to be a Vietnam veteran and still alive..... in only 6 years.
These statistics were taken from a variety of sources to include: The VFW Magazine, the Public Information Office, and the HQ CP Forward Observer - 1st Recon April 12, 1997.
STATISTICS FOR INDIVIDUALS IN UNIFORM AND IN COUNTRY
VIETNAM VETERANS:
* 9,087,000 military personnel served on active duty during the Vietnam Era (August 5, 1964 - May 7, 1975).
* 8,744,000 GIs were on active duty during the war (Aug 5, 1964-March 28, 1973).
* 2,709,918 Americans served in Vietnam, this number represents 9.7% of their generation.
* 3,403,100 (Including 514,300 offshore) personnel served in the broader Southeast Asia Theater (Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, flight crews based in Thailand, and sailors in adjacent South China Sea waters).
* 2,594,000 personnel served within the borders of South Vietnam (Jan. 1, 1965 - March 28, 1973).
* Another 50,000 men served in Vietnam between 1960 and 1964.
* Of the 2.6 million, between 1-1.6 million (40-60%) either fought in combat, provided close support or were at least fairly regularly exposed to enemy attack.
* 7,484 women (6,250 or 83.5% were nurses) served in Vietnam.
* Peak troop strength in Vietnam: 543,482 (April 30, 1968).
CASUALTIES:
* The first man to die in Vietnam was James Davis, in 1958. He was with the 509th Radio Research Station. Davis Station in Saigon was named for him.
* Hostile deaths: 47,378
* Non-hostile deaths: 10,800
* Total: 58,202 (Includes men formerly classified as MIA and Mayaguez casualties). Men who have subsequently died of wounds account for the changing total.
* 8 nurses died -- 1 was KIA.
* Married men killed: 17,539
* 61% of the men killed were 21 or younger.
* 11,465 of those killed were younger than 20 years old.
* Of those killed, 17,539 were married.
* Average age of men killed: 23.1 years Deaths - Average Age Total Deaths: 23.11 years Enlisted: 50,274 22.37 years Officers: 6,598 28.43 years Warrants: 1,276 24.73 years E1: 525 20.34 years
11B MOS: 18,465 22.55 years
* Five men killed in Vietnam were only 16 years old.
* The oldest man killed was 62 years old.
* Highest state death rate: West Virginia - 84.1% (national average 58.9% for every 100,000 males in 1970).
* Wounded: 303,704 -- 153,329 hospitalized + 150,375 injured requiring no hospital care.
* Severely disabled: 75,000, -- 23,214: 100% disabled; 5,283 lost limbs; 1,081 sustained multiple amputations.
* Amputation or crippling wounds to the lower extremities were 300% higher than in WWII and 70% higher than Korea.
* Multiple amputations occurred at the rate of 18.4% compared to 5.7% in WWII.
* Missing in Action: 2,338
* POWs: 766 (114 died in captivity)
* As of January 15, 2004, there are 1,875 Americans still unaccounted for from the Vietnam War.
DRAFTEES VS. VOLUNTEERS:
* 25% (648,500) of total forces in country were draftees. (66% of U.S. armed forces members were drafted during WWII).
* Draftees accounted for 30.4% (17,725) of combat deaths in Vietnam.
* Reservists killed: 5,977
* National Guard: 6,140 served: 101 died.
* Total draftees (1965 - 73): 1,728,344.
* Actually served in Vietnam: 38%
* Marine Corps Draft: 42,633.
* Last man drafted: June 30, 1973.
RACE AND ETHNIC BACKGROUND:
* 88.4% of the men who actually served in Vietnam were Caucasian; 10.6% (275,000) were black; 1% belonged to other races.
* 86.3% of the men who died in Vietnam were Caucasian (includes Hispanics); 12.5% (7,241) were black; 1.2% belonged to other races.
* 170,000 Hispanics served in Vietnam; 3,070 (5.2% of total) died there..
* 70% of enlisted men killed were of North-west European descent.
* 86.8% of the men who were killed as a result of hostile action were Caucasian; 12.1% (5,711) were black; 1.1% belonged to other races.
* 14.6% (1,530) of non-combat deaths were among blacks.
* 34% of blacks who enlisted volunteered for the combat arms.
* Overall, blacks suffered 12.5% of the deaths in Vietnam at a time when the percentage of blacks of military age was 13.5% of the total population.
* Religion of Dead: Protestant -- 64.4%; Catholic -- 28.9%; other/none -- 6.7%
SOCIO-ECONOMIC STATUS:
* Vietnam veterans have a lower unemployment rate than the same non-vet age groups.
* Vietnam veterans' personal income exceeds that of our non-veteran age group by more than 18 percent.
* 76% of the men sent to Vietnam were from lower middle/working class backgrounds.
* Three-fourths had family incomes above the poverty level; 50% were from middle income backgrounds.
* Some 23% of Vietnam vets had fathers with professional, managerial or technical occupations.
* 79% of the men who served in Vietnam had a high school education or better when they entered the military service.
(63% of Korean War vets and only 45% of WWII vets had completed high school upon separation.)
* Deaths by region per 100,000 of population: South -- 31%, West --29.9%; Midwest -- 28.4%; Northeast -- 23.5%.
DRUG USAGE & CRIME:
* There is no difference in drug usage between Vietnam Veterans and non-Vietnam Veterans of the same age group.
(Source: Veterans Administration Study)
* Vietnam Veterans are less likely to be in prison - only one-half of one percent of Vietnam Veterans have been jailed for crimes.
* 85% of Vietnam Veterans made successful transitions to civilian life.
WINNING & LOSING:
* 82% of veterans who saw heavy combat strongly believe the war was lost because of lack of political will.
* Nearly 75% of the public agrees it was a failure of political will, not of arms.
HONORABLE SERVICE:
* 97% of Vietnam-era veterans were honorably discharged.
* 91% of actual Vietnam War veterans and 90% of those who saw heavy combat are proud to have served their country.
* 74% say they would serve again, even knowing the outcome.
* 87% of the public now holds Vietnam veterans in high esteem.
INTERESTING CENSUS STATISTICS & THOSE TO CLAIM TO HAVE "Been There":
* 1,713,823 of those who served in Vietnam were still alive as of August, 1995 (census figures).
* During that same Census count, the number of Americans falsely claiming to have served in-country was: 9,492,958.
* As of the current Census taken during August, 2000, the surviving U.S. Vietnam Veteran population estimate is: 1,002,511. This is hard to believe, losing nearly 711,000 between '95 and '00. That's 390 per day.
* During this Census count, the number of Americans falsely claiming to have served in-country is: 13,853,027. By this census, FOUR OUT OF FIVE WHO CLAIM TO BE Vietnam vets are not.
* The Department of Defense Vietnam War Service Index officially provided by The War Library originally reported with errors that 2,709,918 U.S. military personnel as having served in-country. Corrections and confirmations to this erred index resulted in the addition of 358 U.S. military personnel confirmed to have served in Vietnam but not originally listed by the Department of Defense. (All names are currently on file and accessible 24/7/365).
Isolated atrocities committed by American Soldiers produced torrents of outrage from anti-war critics and the news media while Communist atrocities were so common that they received hardly any media mention at all. The United States sought to minimize and prevent attacks on civilians while North Vietnam made attacks on civilians a centerpiece of its strategy. Americans who deliberately killed civilians received prison sentences while Communists who did so received commendations.
From 1957 to 1973, the National Liberation Front assassinated 36,725 Vietnamese and abducted another 58,499. The death squads focused on leaders at the village level and on anyone who improved the lives of the peasants such as medical personnel, social workers, and school teachers. - Nixon Presidential Papers
"Of the 2,709,918 Americans who served in Vietnam, Less than 850,000 are estimated to be alive today, with the youngest American Vietnam veteran's age approximated to be 54 years old."
So, if you're alive and reading this, how Does it feel to be among the last 1/3rd of all the U.S. Vets who served in Viet Nam?! ...don't know about you guys, but kinda gives me the chills, Considering this is the kind of information I'm used to reading about WWII and Korean War vets.
So the last 14 years we are dying too fast, only the few will survive by 2015...if any.. If true; 390 VN vets die a day. So in 2190 days...from today, you'll be lucky to be a Vietnam veteran and still alive..... in only 6 years.
These statistics were taken from a variety of sources to include: The VFW Magazine, the Public Information Office, and the HQ CP Forward Observer - 1st Recon April 12, 1997.
STATISTICS FOR INDIVIDUALS IN UNIFORM AND IN COUNTRY
VIETNAM VETERANS:
* 9,087,000 military personnel served on active duty during the Vietnam Era (August 5, 1964 - May 7, 1975).
* 8,744,000 GIs were on active duty during the war (Aug 5, 1964-March 28, 1973).
* 2,709,918 Americans served in Vietnam, this number represents 9.7% of their generation.
* 3,403,100 (Including 514,300 offshore) personnel served in the broader Southeast Asia Theater (Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, flight crews based in Thailand, and sailors in adjacent South China Sea waters).
* 2,594,000 personnel served within the borders of South Vietnam (Jan. 1, 1965 - March 28, 1973).
* Another 50,000 men served in Vietnam between 1960 and 1964.
* Of the 2.6 million, between 1-1.6 million (40-60%) either fought in combat, provided close support or were at least fairly regularly exposed to enemy attack.
* 7,484 women (6,250 or 83.5% were nurses) served in Vietnam.
* Peak troop strength in Vietnam: 543,482 (April 30, 1968).
CASUALTIES:
* The first man to die in Vietnam was James Davis, in 1958. He was with the 509th Radio Research Station. Davis Station in Saigon was named for him.
* Hostile deaths: 47,378
* Non-hostile deaths: 10,800
* Total: 58,202 (Includes men formerly classified as MIA and Mayaguez casualties). Men who have subsequently died of wounds account for the changing total.
* 8 nurses died -- 1 was KIA.
* Married men killed: 17,539
* 61% of the men killed were 21 or younger.
* 11,465 of those killed were younger than 20 years old.
* Of those killed, 17,539 were married.
* Average age of men killed: 23.1 years Deaths - Average Age Total Deaths: 23.11 years Enlisted: 50,274 22.37 years Officers: 6,598 28.43 years Warrants: 1,276 24.73 years E1: 525 20.34 years
11B MOS: 18,465 22.55 years
* Five men killed in Vietnam were only 16 years old.
* The oldest man killed was 62 years old.
* Highest state death rate: West Virginia - 84.1% (national average 58.9% for every 100,000 males in 1970).
* Wounded: 303,704 -- 153,329 hospitalized + 150,375 injured requiring no hospital care.
* Severely disabled: 75,000, -- 23,214: 100% disabled; 5,283 lost limbs; 1,081 sustained multiple amputations.
* Amputation or crippling wounds to the lower extremities were 300% higher than in WWII and 70% higher than Korea.
* Multiple amputations occurred at the rate of 18.4% compared to 5.7% in WWII.
* Missing in Action: 2,338
* POWs: 766 (114 died in captivity)
* As of January 15, 2004, there are 1,875 Americans still unaccounted for from the Vietnam War.
DRAFTEES VS. VOLUNTEERS:
* 25% (648,500) of total forces in country were draftees. (66% of U.S. armed forces members were drafted during WWII).
* Draftees accounted for 30.4% (17,725) of combat deaths in Vietnam.
* Reservists killed: 5,977
* National Guard: 6,140 served: 101 died.
* Total draftees (1965 - 73): 1,728,344.
* Actually served in Vietnam: 38%
* Marine Corps Draft: 42,633.
* Last man drafted: June 30, 1973.
RACE AND ETHNIC BACKGROUND:
* 88.4% of the men who actually served in Vietnam were Caucasian; 10.6% (275,000) were black; 1% belonged to other races.
* 86.3% of the men who died in Vietnam were Caucasian (includes Hispanics); 12.5% (7,241) were black; 1.2% belonged to other races.
* 170,000 Hispanics served in Vietnam; 3,070 (5.2% of total) died there..
* 70% of enlisted men killed were of North-west European descent.
* 86.8% of the men who were killed as a result of hostile action were Caucasian; 12.1% (5,711) were black; 1.1% belonged to other races.
* 14.6% (1,530) of non-combat deaths were among blacks.
* 34% of blacks who enlisted volunteered for the combat arms.
* Overall, blacks suffered 12.5% of the deaths in Vietnam at a time when the percentage of blacks of military age was 13.5% of the total population.
* Religion of Dead: Protestant -- 64.4%; Catholic -- 28.9%; other/none -- 6.7%
SOCIO-ECONOMIC STATUS:
* Vietnam veterans have a lower unemployment rate than the same non-vet age groups.
* Vietnam veterans' personal income exceeds that of our non-veteran age group by more than 18 percent.
* 76% of the men sent to Vietnam were from lower middle/working class backgrounds.
* Three-fourths had family incomes above the poverty level; 50% were from middle income backgrounds.
* Some 23% of Vietnam vets had fathers with professional, managerial or technical occupations.
* 79% of the men who served in Vietnam had a high school education or better when they entered the military service.
(63% of Korean War vets and only 45% of WWII vets had completed high school upon separation.)
* Deaths by region per 100,000 of population: South -- 31%, West --29.9%; Midwest -- 28.4%; Northeast -- 23.5%.
DRUG USAGE & CRIME:
* There is no difference in drug usage between Vietnam Veterans and non-Vietnam Veterans of the same age group.
(Source: Veterans Administration Study)
* Vietnam Veterans are less likely to be in prison - only one-half of one percent of Vietnam Veterans have been jailed for crimes.
* 85% of Vietnam Veterans made successful transitions to civilian life.
WINNING & LOSING:
* 82% of veterans who saw heavy combat strongly believe the war was lost because of lack of political will.
* Nearly 75% of the public agrees it was a failure of political will, not of arms.
HONORABLE SERVICE:
* 97% of Vietnam-era veterans were honorably discharged.
* 91% of actual Vietnam War veterans and 90% of those who saw heavy combat are proud to have served their country.
* 74% say they would serve again, even knowing the outcome.
* 87% of the public now holds Vietnam veterans in high esteem.
INTERESTING CENSUS STATISTICS & THOSE TO CLAIM TO HAVE "Been There":
* 1,713,823 of those who served in Vietnam were still alive as of August, 1995 (census figures).
* During that same Census count, the number of Americans falsely claiming to have served in-country was: 9,492,958.
* As of the current Census taken during August, 2000, the surviving U.S. Vietnam Veteran population estimate is: 1,002,511. This is hard to believe, losing nearly 711,000 between '95 and '00. That's 390 per day.
* During this Census count, the number of Americans falsely claiming to have served in-country is: 13,853,027. By this census, FOUR OUT OF FIVE WHO CLAIM TO BE Vietnam vets are not.
* The Department of Defense Vietnam War Service Index officially provided by The War Library originally reported with errors that 2,709,918 U.S. military personnel as having served in-country. Corrections and confirmations to this erred index resulted in the addition of 358 U.S. military personnel confirmed to have served in Vietnam but not originally listed by the Department of Defense. (All names are currently on file and accessible 24/7/365).
Isolated atrocities committed by American Soldiers produced torrents of outrage from anti-war critics and the news media while Communist atrocities were so common that they received hardly any media mention at all. The United States sought to minimize and prevent attacks on civilians while North Vietnam made attacks on civilians a centerpiece of its strategy. Americans who deliberately killed civilians received prison sentences while Communists who did so received commendations.
From 1957 to 1973, the National Liberation Front assassinated 36,725 Vietnamese and abducted another 58,499. The death squads focused on leaders at the village level and on anyone who improved the lives of the peasants such as medical personnel, social workers, and school teachers. - Nixon Presidential Papers
Just Texas
Just Texas
This is a must read for all Texans, used-to-be Texans, adopted Texans or wanna-be Texans,
JUST TEXAS
Pep , Texas 79353
Smiley , Texas 78159
Paradise , Texas 76073
Rainbow , Texas 76077
Sweet Home , Texas 77987
Comfort , Texas 78013
Friendship, Texas 76530
Love the Sun?
Sun City , Texas 78628
Sunrise , Texas 76661
Sunset, Texas 76270
Sundown, Texas 79372
Sunray , Texas 79086
Sunny Sid e , Texas 77423
Want something to eat?
Bacon , Texas 76301
Noodle , Texas 79536
Oatmeal , Texas 78605
Turkey , Texas 79261
Trout , Texas 75789
Sugar Land , Texas 77479
Salty, Texas 76567
Rice , Texas 75155
Pearland , Texas 77581
Orange , Texas 77630
And top it off with:
Sweetwater , Texas 79556
Why travel to other cities? Texas has them all!
Detroit , Texas 75436
Cleveland , Texas 75436
Colorado City , Texas 79512
Denver City , Texas 79323
Klondike , Texas 75448
Nevada , Texas 75173
Memphis , Texas 79245
Miami , Texas 79059
Boston , Texas 75570
Santa Fe , Texas 77517
Tennessee Colony , Texas 75861
Reno , Texas 75462
Pasadena , Texas 77506
Columbus , Texas 78934
Omaha, Texas
Feel like traveling outside the country?
Athens , Texas 75751
Canadian, Texas 79014
China , Texas 77613
Egypt , Texas 77436
Ireland , Texas 76538
Italy , Texas 76538
Turkey , Texas 79261
London , Texas 76854
New London , Texas 75682
Paris , Texas 75460
Palestine , Texas 75801
Dublin, Texas. 76446
No need to travel to Washington D.C.
Whitehouse , Texas 75791
We even have a city named after our planet!
Earth, Texas 79031
We have a city named after our state
Texas City, Texas 77590
Exhausted?
Energy, Texas 76452
Cold?
Blanket, Texas 76432
Winters, Texas
Like to read about History?
Santa Anna , Texas
Goliad , Texas
Alamo , Texas
Gun Barrel City , Texas
Robert Lee , Texas
Need Office Supplies?
Staples, Texas 78670
Want to go into outer space?
Venus , Texas 76084
Mars , Texas 79062
You guessed it. It's on the state line.
Texline , Texas 79087
For the kids...
Kermit , Texas 79745
Elmo , Texas 75118
Nemo , Texas 76070
Tarzan , Texas 79783
Winnie , Texas 77665
Sylvester , Texas 79560
Twitty, Texas 79079
Other city names in Texas, to make you smile......
Frognot, Texas 75424
Bigfoot, Texas 78005
Hogeye, Texas 75423
Cactus, Texas 79013
Notrees, Texas 79759
Best, Texas 76932
Veribest, Texas 76886
Kickapoo, Texas 75763
Dime Box, Texas 77853
Old Dime Box, Texas 77853
Telephone, Texas 75488
Telegraph, Texas 76883
Whiteface, Texas 79379
No Trees, Texas
And last but not least, the Anti-Al Gore City
Kilgore, Texas 75662
And our favorites...
Cut n Shoot, Texas
Gun Barrell City, Texas
Hoop And Holler, Texas
Ding Dong, Texas and, of course,
Muleshoe, Texas
Here are some little known, very interesting facts about Texas .
1. Beaumont to El Paso : 742 miles
2.. Beaumont to Chicago : 770 miles
3... El Paso is closer to California than to Dallas
4. World's first rodeo was in Pecos , July 4, 1883.
5. The Flagship Hotel in Galveston is the only hotel in North America built over water. Destroyed by Hurricane Ike -2008!
6. The Heisman Trophy was named after John William Heisman who was the first full-time coach at Rice University in Houston .
7. Brazoria County has more species of birds than any other area in North America
8. Aransas Wildlife Refuge is the winter home of North America 's only remaining flock of whooping cranes.
9. Jalapeno jelly originated in Lake Jackson in 1978.
10. The worst natural disaster in U.S. history was in 1900, caused by a hurricane, in which over 8,000 lives were lost on Galveston Island .
11. The first word spoken from the moon, July 20,1969, was " Houston ," but the space center was actually in Clear Lake City at the time.
12. King Ranch in South Texas is larger than Rhode Island ..
13. Tropical Storm Claudette brought a U.S. rainfall record of 43' in 24 hours in and around Alvin in July of 1979...
14. Texas is the only state to enter the U.S. by TREATY, (known as the Constitution of 1845 by the Republic of Texas to enter the Union ) instead of by annexation. This allows the Texas Flag to fly at the same height as the U.S. Flag, and may divide into 5 states.
15. A Live Oak tree near Fulton is estimated to be 1500 years old.
16. Caddo Lake is the only natural lake in the state.
17. Dr Pepper was invented in Waco in 1885. There is no period in Dr Pepper..
18. Texas has had six capital cities:
Washington -on- the Brazos, Harrisburg , Galveston ,Velasco, West Columbia and Austin ..
19. The Capitol Dome in Austin is the only dome in the U.S. which is taller than the Capitol Building in Washington DC (by 7 feet).
20. The San Jacinto Monument is the tallest free standing monument in the world and it is taller than the Washington monument.
21. The name ' Texas ' comes from the Hasini Indian word 'tejas' meaning friends. Tejas is not Spanish for Texas ..
22. The State Mascot is the Armadillo (an interesting bit of trivia about the armadillo is they always have four babies. They have one egg, which splits into four, and they either have four males or four females.).
23. The first domed stadium in the U.S. was the Astrodome in Houston.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Though these figures are dated (2004) they are still astounding. Were they to be updated, they would be even more so).
This is a must read for all Texans, used-to-be Texans, adopted Texans or wanna-be Texans,
JUST TEXAS
Pep , Texas 79353
Smiley , Texas 78159
Paradise , Texas 76073
Rainbow , Texas 76077
Sweet Home , Texas 77987
Comfort , Texas 78013
Friendship, Texas 76530
Love the Sun?
Sun City , Texas 78628
Sunrise , Texas 76661
Sunset, Texas 76270
Sundown, Texas 79372
Sunray , Texas 79086
Sunny Sid e , Texas 77423
Want something to eat?
Bacon , Texas 76301
Noodle , Texas 79536
Oatmeal , Texas 78605
Turkey , Texas 79261
Trout , Texas 75789
Sugar Land , Texas 77479
Salty, Texas 76567
Rice , Texas 75155
Pearland , Texas 77581
Orange , Texas 77630
And top it off with:
Sweetwater , Texas 79556
Why travel to other cities? Texas has them all!
Detroit , Texas 75436
Cleveland , Texas 75436
Colorado City , Texas 79512
Denver City , Texas 79323
Klondike , Texas 75448
Nevada , Texas 75173
Memphis , Texas 79245
Miami , Texas 79059
Boston , Texas 75570
Santa Fe , Texas 77517
Tennessee Colony , Texas 75861
Reno , Texas 75462
Pasadena , Texas 77506
Columbus , Texas 78934
Omaha, Texas
Feel like traveling outside the country?
Athens , Texas 75751
Canadian, Texas 79014
China , Texas 77613
Egypt , Texas 77436
Ireland , Texas 76538
Italy , Texas 76538
Turkey , Texas 79261
London , Texas 76854
New London , Texas 75682
Paris , Texas 75460
Palestine , Texas 75801
Dublin, Texas. 76446
No need to travel to Washington D.C.
Whitehouse , Texas 75791
We even have a city named after our planet!
Earth, Texas 79031
We have a city named after our state
Texas City, Texas 77590
Exhausted?
Energy, Texas 76452
Cold?
Blanket, Texas 76432
Winters, Texas
Like to read about History?
Santa Anna , Texas
Goliad , Texas
Alamo , Texas
Gun Barrel City , Texas
Robert Lee , Texas
Need Office Supplies?
Staples, Texas 78670
Want to go into outer space?
Venus , Texas 76084
Mars , Texas 79062
You guessed it. It's on the state line.
Texline , Texas 79087
For the kids...
Kermit , Texas 79745
Elmo , Texas 75118
Nemo , Texas 76070
Tarzan , Texas 79783
Winnie , Texas 77665
Sylvester , Texas 79560
Twitty, Texas 79079
Other city names in Texas, to make you smile......
Frognot, Texas 75424
Bigfoot, Texas 78005
Hogeye, Texas 75423
Cactus, Texas 79013
Notrees, Texas 79759
Best, Texas 76932
Veribest, Texas 76886
Kickapoo, Texas 75763
Dime Box, Texas 77853
Old Dime Box, Texas 77853
Telephone, Texas 75488
Telegraph, Texas 76883
Whiteface, Texas 79379
No Trees, Texas
And last but not least, the Anti-Al Gore City
Kilgore, Texas 75662
And our favorites...
Cut n Shoot, Texas
Gun Barrell City, Texas
Hoop And Holler, Texas
Ding Dong, Texas and, of course,
Muleshoe, Texas
Here are some little known, very interesting facts about Texas .
1. Beaumont to El Paso : 742 miles
2.. Beaumont to Chicago : 770 miles
3... El Paso is closer to California than to Dallas
4. World's first rodeo was in Pecos , July 4, 1883.
5. The Flagship Hotel in Galveston is the only hotel in North America built over water. Destroyed by Hurricane Ike -2008!
6. The Heisman Trophy was named after John William Heisman who was the first full-time coach at Rice University in Houston .
7. Brazoria County has more species of birds than any other area in North America
8. Aransas Wildlife Refuge is the winter home of North America 's only remaining flock of whooping cranes.
9. Jalapeno jelly originated in Lake Jackson in 1978.
10. The worst natural disaster in U.S. history was in 1900, caused by a hurricane, in which over 8,000 lives were lost on Galveston Island .
11. The first word spoken from the moon, July 20,1969, was " Houston ," but the space center was actually in Clear Lake City at the time.
12. King Ranch in South Texas is larger than Rhode Island ..
13. Tropical Storm Claudette brought a U.S. rainfall record of 43' in 24 hours in and around Alvin in July of 1979...
14. Texas is the only state to enter the U.S. by TREATY, (known as the Constitution of 1845 by the Republic of Texas to enter the Union ) instead of by annexation. This allows the Texas Flag to fly at the same height as the U.S. Flag, and may divide into 5 states.
15. A Live Oak tree near Fulton is estimated to be 1500 years old.
16. Caddo Lake is the only natural lake in the state.
17. Dr Pepper was invented in Waco in 1885. There is no period in Dr Pepper..
18. Texas has had six capital cities:
Washington -on- the Brazos, Harrisburg , Galveston ,Velasco, West Columbia and Austin ..
19. The Capitol Dome in Austin is the only dome in the U.S. which is taller than the Capitol Building in Washington DC (by 7 feet).
20. The San Jacinto Monument is the tallest free standing monument in the world and it is taller than the Washington monument.
21. The name ' Texas ' comes from the Hasini Indian word 'tejas' meaning friends. Tejas is not Spanish for Texas ..
22. The State Mascot is the Armadillo (an interesting bit of trivia about the armadillo is they always have four babies. They have one egg, which splits into four, and they either have four males or four females.).
23. The first domed stadium in the U.S. was the Astrodome in Houston.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Though these figures are dated (2004) they are still astounding. Were they to be updated, they would be even more so).
Dear Dr. Laura:
On her radio show, Dr Laura Schlesinger said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22, and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura which was posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative:
=============
Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination... End of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them:
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is, my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath.Exodus 35:2. clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?
7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.
Your adoring fan.
James M. Kauffman, Ed.D. Professor Emeritus Dept. of Curriculum,
Instruction, and Special Education University of Virginia
=============
Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination... End of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them:
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is, my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath.Exodus 35:2. clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?
7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.
Your adoring fan.
James M. Kauffman, Ed.D. Professor Emeritus Dept. of Curriculum,
Instruction, and Special Education University of Virginia
Saturday, August 28, 2010
The Test
Three aspiring psychiatrists, from three leading universities, were attending their first class on emotional extremes.
"Just to establish some parameters," said the professor to the student from UCLA, What is the opposite of joy?"
"Sadness," said the student.
"And the opposite of depression?" he asked the young lady from the University of Minnesota ..
"Elation," she said.
"And you, sir," he said to the student from University of Oklahoma, "how about the opposite of woe?"
The University of Oklahoma student replied, "Sir, I believe that would be giddy up".
"Just to establish some parameters," said the professor to the student from UCLA, What is the opposite of joy?"
"Sadness," said the student.
"And the opposite of depression?" he asked the young lady from the University of Minnesota ..
"Elation," she said.
"And you, sir," he said to the student from University of Oklahoma, "how about the opposite of woe?"
The University of Oklahoma student replied, "Sir, I believe that would be giddy up".
Life in San Diego County . . .
I guess it's only fair that if I'm going to let our West Coast folks know what the midwest and east coast weather miseries are like, the least I can do, in the interest of fair play and equal time, is let our midwest and east coast folks know what miseries we, who live on the west coast must endure:
It's another typical lousy day in San Diego County. Not a cloud in the sky. Nothing but blue. I get so dadblamed tired of seeing nothing but blue sky. Where have all the clouds gone? Why aren't they here, like ol' Ma Nature intended? It would help blot out that icky ol' sun that insists on beating down on this land of ours and pelting us with 70-80 degree weather. In the wintertime, for Pete's sake! You'd think Ma Nature would know better and give us a good belting of snow and nice, and cool winds, but, no, we have to swelter!
I just had to go out and get the morning's copy of the daily paper. I threw on a pair of tennis shorts, my Birkenstock sandals, a polo shirt, and I was ready for the lengthy 80' hike to the newspaper tube, adjacent to the mailbox, next to the street. Later today, I'll have to repeat that long, long walk in order to pick up the mail. Letters will probably be hot, what with laying in that black mailbox for hours.
And those damned birds! Where do they get off singing merrily like that? Don't they know it's winter time? Those male birds are obviously trying to impress those good looking female birds. I bet they have sex on their minds . . . just like they do every spring.
Just like the Sexy Swenson's next door. They go at it night and day. 'Course, we knew when we moved here to San Diego County that all Californians had hot tubs, were swingers, and partied all night, skinny dipping, running around au naturel. (Which I learned, means 'naked.') But, we thought surely Californians would give it a rest now and then.
Suzy Swensen waves at me as I go to pick up the paper and says, "Why don't you come on over for a swim? I won't bite!" Then she gives me one of those pearly white smiles of hers and juts her naked boobs out a wee but firther. I think she's trying to impress me. Maybe even entice me. But I've seen her in the altogether for the last five years, so it doesn't phase me much anymore. No sir, not the least bit.
I holler back, "No, thanks kindly, but Evelyn is making me some hot oatmeal and tea and I wouldn't want it all to get cold after she has slaved over a hot stove."
"Oh, Evelyn wouldn't mind. Heck, bring her along. Maybe we could have a threesome!"
"Um, she doesn't know how to swim," I said, lamely.
"Wasn't talking about swimming, silly," she said, with the cute little smile of hers.
"Well," sez me, "Wednesday is Evelyn's standard appointment at the beauty shop and she has to go shortly. You know, make herself beautiful for me."
"Maybe you could come over after she leaves?" she said.
(I'm going into parentheses here so Suzie can't hear or read what I'm saying to you. What do I do now? I've painted myself into a corner! Sexy Suzie will know I'm home all alone. Vulnerable. A mere man, with the remote possibility that I might succumb to her charms and obvious assets. I have that weakness, you know.)
"Well," sez me, "I promised Evelyn I'd follow her in just a few minutes after she leaves and, um . . . run some errands she normally does, while she gets prettified."
It was a weak excuse but, for the moment at least, it worked.
"Oh, okay," she said, "if you change your mind, I'm gonna be laying out all morning. You can come over and put sun tan lotion all over my body if you want. I wouldn't mind. Not at all!" With that she gives me a great big wink and that great big smile of hers, and she juts out those perky college coed type boobs of hers again (I think she's just showing off) and goes back to her recliner.
I escape back in to the house, unfold the paper and Evelyn asked me what took so long.
I said, and headed for the family room to read my paper.
Sexy Suze is just one neighbor. She and her hubby or live-in boyfriend, whoever he is, are swingers. Most every night, sometimes daytimes too.
Our other neighbors, the Van Hoofendorfs, are nudists. Not swingers. Just nudists. There is a difference. And they smoke pot. Most any evening you can get a nice high from just breathing in the air that the vicious California winds gently waft from their property over to ours. Many is the time that Miss Evelyn and I have spent an entire hour just looking at a yellow pencil and meditating on it, thanks to the fumes from next door. And we've also gotten the munchies way too often. Again, thanks to the folks next door.
The nudity doesn't bother us, though. After all, when we go to our place of worship we strip off all our clothes, walk through a warm, cleansing shower, then sit around a pool and eat grapes, and unleavened bread, and bananas and such and we listen to tinkling bells and the playing of a sitar. A monk eventually comes out and repeats various mantras and we marvel at these. It is a highly religious experience. So much so that we try to go every night. Even when American Idol is on. We do make our sacrifices.
Yes, folks, this is California, southern style.
We had to adapt because as any anthropologist will tell you, folks from Nebraska and Oklahoma (which I and Evelyn are from, respectively) do not disrobe, sometimes not even to shower or bathe. These same folks seldom have sex. And when they do it's will all the lights off and indoors. We, Evelyn and I, had led sheltered lives. But, we have learned to adapt, living here in Southern California.
So, you see, we have our miseries to suffer through in the wintry months, just as those of you who live in the midwest and east coast do.
Drat! I just looked at the weather conditions for Escondido, the city in which we live and cavort.
Curses!
58°F | °C
Current: Sunny
Wind: E at 1 mph
Humidity: 58%
As you can readily see, we have a cold snap. It's a miserable 58 degrees at 9am with an Easterly wind roaring through our town at a mighty 1 mph.
I may have to call our neighbors together to hold a communal prayer session asking the Great Spirit to grant us some relief.
But that's what we have to endure out here, folks.
All of us Californias have this type of lifestyle. It's just our way of doing things and coping.
I'd write more but I think I'll mosey on over and have Suzie Swensen give me a massage with warm baby oil. I had a leg cramp in the middle of the night and perhaps she, as a good neighbor, can give me some relief.
I'd ask Evelyn to give me a massage but, as I mentioned earlier, she's off to her beauty shop for her regularly scheduled beauty appointment.
The errands can wait.
Besides, I do feel kinda . . . .well, you know.
Ciao, baby!
lyle
It's another typical lousy day in San Diego County. Not a cloud in the sky. Nothing but blue. I get so dadblamed tired of seeing nothing but blue sky. Where have all the clouds gone? Why aren't they here, like ol' Ma Nature intended? It would help blot out that icky ol' sun that insists on beating down on this land of ours and pelting us with 70-80 degree weather. In the wintertime, for Pete's sake! You'd think Ma Nature would know better and give us a good belting of snow and nice, and cool winds, but, no, we have to swelter!
I just had to go out and get the morning's copy of the daily paper. I threw on a pair of tennis shorts, my Birkenstock sandals, a polo shirt, and I was ready for the lengthy 80' hike to the newspaper tube, adjacent to the mailbox, next to the street. Later today, I'll have to repeat that long, long walk in order to pick up the mail. Letters will probably be hot, what with laying in that black mailbox for hours.
And those damned birds! Where do they get off singing merrily like that? Don't they know it's winter time? Those male birds are obviously trying to impress those good looking female birds. I bet they have sex on their minds . . . just like they do every spring.
Just like the Sexy Swenson's next door. They go at it night and day. 'Course, we knew when we moved here to San Diego County that all Californians had hot tubs, were swingers, and partied all night, skinny dipping, running around au naturel. (Which I learned, means 'naked.') But, we thought surely Californians would give it a rest now and then.
Suzy Swensen waves at me as I go to pick up the paper and says, "Why don't you come on over for a swim? I won't bite!" Then she gives me one of those pearly white smiles of hers and juts her naked boobs out a wee but firther. I think she's trying to impress me. Maybe even entice me. But I've seen her in the altogether for the last five years, so it doesn't phase me much anymore. No sir, not the least bit.
I holler back, "No, thanks kindly, but Evelyn is making me some hot oatmeal and tea and I wouldn't want it all to get cold after she has slaved over a hot stove."
"Oh, Evelyn wouldn't mind. Heck, bring her along. Maybe we could have a threesome!"
"Um, she doesn't know how to swim," I said, lamely.
"Wasn't talking about swimming, silly," she said, with the cute little smile of hers.
"Well," sez me, "Wednesday is Evelyn's standard appointment at the beauty shop and she has to go shortly. You know, make herself beautiful for me."
"Maybe you could come over after she leaves?" she said.
(I'm going into parentheses here so Suzie can't hear or read what I'm saying to you. What do I do now? I've painted myself into a corner! Sexy Suzie will know I'm home all alone. Vulnerable. A mere man, with the remote possibility that I might succumb to her charms and obvious assets. I have that weakness, you know.)
"Well," sez me, "I promised Evelyn I'd follow her in just a few minutes after she leaves and, um . . . run some errands she normally does, while she gets prettified."
It was a weak excuse but, for the moment at least, it worked.
"Oh, okay," she said, "if you change your mind, I'm gonna be laying out all morning. You can come over and put sun tan lotion all over my body if you want. I wouldn't mind. Not at all!" With that she gives me a great big wink and that great big smile of hers, and she juts out those perky college coed type boobs of hers again (I think she's just showing off) and goes back to her recliner.
I escape back in to the house, unfold the paper and Evelyn asked me what took so long.
I said, and headed for the family room to read my paper.
Sexy Suze is just one neighbor. She and her hubby or live-in boyfriend, whoever he is, are swingers. Most every night, sometimes daytimes too.
Our other neighbors, the Van Hoofendorfs, are nudists. Not swingers. Just nudists. There is a difference. And they smoke pot. Most any evening you can get a nice high from just breathing in the air that the vicious California winds gently waft from their property over to ours. Many is the time that Miss Evelyn and I have spent an entire hour just looking at a yellow pencil and meditating on it, thanks to the fumes from next door. And we've also gotten the munchies way too often. Again, thanks to the folks next door.
The nudity doesn't bother us, though. After all, when we go to our place of worship we strip off all our clothes, walk through a warm, cleansing shower, then sit around a pool and eat grapes, and unleavened bread, and bananas and such and we listen to tinkling bells and the playing of a sitar. A monk eventually comes out and repeats various mantras and we marvel at these. It is a highly religious experience. So much so that we try to go every night. Even when American Idol is on. We do make our sacrifices.
Yes, folks, this is California, southern style.
We had to adapt because as any anthropologist will tell you, folks from Nebraska and Oklahoma (which I and Evelyn are from, respectively) do not disrobe, sometimes not even to shower or bathe. These same folks seldom have sex. And when they do it's will all the lights off and indoors. We, Evelyn and I, had led sheltered lives. But, we have learned to adapt, living here in Southern California.
So, you see, we have our miseries to suffer through in the wintry months, just as those of you who live in the midwest and east coast do.
Drat! I just looked at the weather conditions for Escondido, the city in which we live and cavort.
Curses!
58°F | °C
Current: Sunny
Wind: E at 1 mph
Humidity: 58%
As you can readily see, we have a cold snap. It's a miserable 58 degrees at 9am with an Easterly wind roaring through our town at a mighty 1 mph.
I may have to call our neighbors together to hold a communal prayer session asking the Great Spirit to grant us some relief.
But that's what we have to endure out here, folks.
All of us Californias have this type of lifestyle. It's just our way of doing things and coping.
I'd write more but I think I'll mosey on over and have Suzie Swensen give me a massage with warm baby oil. I had a leg cramp in the middle of the night and perhaps she, as a good neighbor, can give me some relief.
I'd ask Evelyn to give me a massage but, as I mentioned earlier, she's off to her beauty shop for her regularly scheduled beauty appointment.
The errands can wait.
Besides, I do feel kinda . . . .well, you know.
Ciao, baby!
lyle
Puppy Love
A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the 4 pups and set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of a little boy.
"Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies."
"Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, "These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money."
The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. "I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?"
"Sure," said the farmer. And with that he let out a whistle. "Here, Dolly!" he called.
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur.
The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse.
Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up...
"I want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said,
"Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would."
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers.
In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe.
Looking back up at the farmer, he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands." With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup.
Holding it carefully he handed it to the little boy. "How much?" asked the little boy..
"No charge," answered the farmer, "There's no charge for love."
"Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies."
"Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, "These puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money."
The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. "I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?"
"Sure," said the farmer. And with that he let out a whistle. "Here, Dolly!" he called.
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur.
The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse.
Slowly another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner, the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up...
"I want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt. The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said,
"Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would."
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers.
In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe.
Looking back up at the farmer, he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands." With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup.
Holding it carefully he handed it to the little boy. "How much?" asked the little boy..
"No charge," answered the farmer, "There's no charge for love."
A Potpourri of Jokes . . .
Mark 1:40-42 -- 40 And there came a leper to Him, beseeching Him, and kneeling down to Him, and saying unto Him, If thou wilt, thou canst make me clean. 41 And Jesus, moved with compassion, put forth his hand, and touched him, and saith unto him, I will; render unto me thy proof of insurance. 42 Lo, the leper had no insurance, and Jesus did not cleanse him.
*********************
Have you ever wondered what the difference between Grandmothers and Grandfathers is? Well here it is:
A friend, who worked away from home all week, always made a special effort with his family on the weekends. Every Sunday morning he would take his 7-year old granddaughter out for a drive in thecar for some bonding time -- just him and his granddaughter. One particular Sunday however, he had a bad cold and really didn't feel like being up at all. Luckily, his wife came to the rescue and said that she would take their granddaughter out.
When they returned, the little girl anxiously ran upstairs to see her Grandfather.
'Well, did you enjoy your ride with grandma?'
'Oh yes, Papa' the girl replied, 'and do you know what? We didn't see a single asshole, dumb bastard, dip shit or horse's ass anywhere we went today!'
Almost brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?
To My Pals,
Understandably, some jokes or stories strike different people in different ways. This one broke me up. Hope you enjoy as much as I did.
A duck walks into a pub and orders a pint of beer and a ham sandwich.
The barman looks at him and says,
"Hang on! You're a duck."
"I see your eyes are working," replies the duck.
"And you can talk!" exclaims the barman.
"I see your ears are working, too," says the duck.
"Now if you don't mind, can I have my beer and my sandwich please?"
"Certainly, sorry about that," says the barman as he pulls the duck's pint.
"It's just we don't get many ducks in this pub.. What are you doing round this way?"
"I'm working on the building site across the road," explains the duck. "I'm a plasterer."
The flabbergasted barman cannot believe the duck and wants to learn more, but takes the hint when the duck pulls out a newspaper from his bag and proceeds to read it.
So, the duck reads his paper, drinks his beer, eats his sandwich, bids the barman good day and leaves.
The same thing happens for two weeks.
Then one day the circus comes to town. The ringmaster comes into the pub for a pint and the barman says to him
"You're with the circus, aren't you? Well, I know this duck that could be just brilliant in your circus. He talks, drinks beer, eats sandwiches, reads the newspaper and everything!"
"Sounds marvelous," says the ringmaster, handing over his business card. Get him to give me a call."
So the next day when the duck comes into the pub the barman says, "Hey Mr. Duck, I reckon I can line you up with a top job, paying really good money."
"I'm always looking for the next job," says the duck. "Where is it?"
"At the circus," says the barman. The circus?" repeats the duck. “That's right," replies the barman. "The circus."
The duck asks again, “with the big tent?"
"Yeah," the barman replies.
"With all the animals who live in cages, and performers who live in caravans?" says the duck.
"Of course," the barman replies. "And the tent has canvas sides and a big canvas roof with a hole in the middle?" persists the duck. "That's right!" says the barman.
The duck shakes his head in amazement, and says ........"What the fuck would they want with a plasterer?!"
An American tourist asks an Irish fisherman:
"Why do Scuba Divers always fall backwards off their boats into the water?"
To which the Irishman replies:
"Sure if they fell forwards they'd still be in the boat!"
The following breeds are now recognized by the AKC:
Collie + Lhasa Apso = Collapso, a dog that folds up easy for transporting
Spitz + Chow Chow = Spitz-Chow, a dog that throws up a lot
Pointer + Setter = Poinsetter, a traditional Christmas pet
Great Pyrenees + Dachshund = Pyradachs, a puzzling breed
Pekingnese + Lhasa Apso = Peekasso, an abstract dog
Irish Water Spaniel + English Springer Spaniel = Irish Springer, a dog fresh and clean as a whistle
Labrador Retriever + Curly Coated Retriever = Lab Coat Retriever, the choice of research scientists
Newfoundland + Basset Hound = Newfound Asset Hound, a dog for financial advisors
Terrier + Bulldog = Terribull, a dog that makes awful mistakes
Bloodhound + Labrador = Blabador, not a popular dog with CIA agents
Malamute + Pointer = Moot Point, owned by... oh, well, it doesn't matter anyway
Collie + Malamute = Commute, a dog that travels to work
Deerhound + Terrier = Derriere, a dog that's true to the end
*********************
Have you ever wondered what the difference between Grandmothers and Grandfathers is? Well here it is:
A friend, who worked away from home all week, always made a special effort with his family on the weekends. Every Sunday morning he would take his 7-year old granddaughter out for a drive in thecar for some bonding time -- just him and his granddaughter. One particular Sunday however, he had a bad cold and really didn't feel like being up at all. Luckily, his wife came to the rescue and said that she would take their granddaughter out.
When they returned, the little girl anxiously ran upstairs to see her Grandfather.
'Well, did you enjoy your ride with grandma?'
'Oh yes, Papa' the girl replied, 'and do you know what? We didn't see a single asshole, dumb bastard, dip shit or horse's ass anywhere we went today!'
Almost brings a tear to your eye, doesn't it?
To My Pals,
Understandably, some jokes or stories strike different people in different ways. This one broke me up. Hope you enjoy as much as I did.
A duck walks into a pub and orders a pint of beer and a ham sandwich.
The barman looks at him and says,
"Hang on! You're a duck."
"I see your eyes are working," replies the duck.
"And you can talk!" exclaims the barman.
"I see your ears are working, too," says the duck.
"Now if you don't mind, can I have my beer and my sandwich please?"
"Certainly, sorry about that," says the barman as he pulls the duck's pint.
"It's just we don't get many ducks in this pub.. What are you doing round this way?"
"I'm working on the building site across the road," explains the duck. "I'm a plasterer."
The flabbergasted barman cannot believe the duck and wants to learn more, but takes the hint when the duck pulls out a newspaper from his bag and proceeds to read it.
So, the duck reads his paper, drinks his beer, eats his sandwich, bids the barman good day and leaves.
The same thing happens for two weeks.
Then one day the circus comes to town. The ringmaster comes into the pub for a pint and the barman says to him
"You're with the circus, aren't you? Well, I know this duck that could be just brilliant in your circus. He talks, drinks beer, eats sandwiches, reads the newspaper and everything!"
"Sounds marvelous," says the ringmaster, handing over his business card. Get him to give me a call."
So the next day when the duck comes into the pub the barman says, "Hey Mr. Duck, I reckon I can line you up with a top job, paying really good money."
"I'm always looking for the next job," says the duck. "Where is it?"
"At the circus," says the barman. The circus?" repeats the duck. “That's right," replies the barman. "The circus."
The duck asks again, “with the big tent?"
"Yeah," the barman replies.
"With all the animals who live in cages, and performers who live in caravans?" says the duck.
"Of course," the barman replies. "And the tent has canvas sides and a big canvas roof with a hole in the middle?" persists the duck. "That's right!" says the barman.
The duck shakes his head in amazement, and says ........"What the fuck would they want with a plasterer?!"
An American tourist asks an Irish fisherman:
"Why do Scuba Divers always fall backwards off their boats into the water?"
To which the Irishman replies:
"Sure if they fell forwards they'd still be in the boat!"
The following breeds are now recognized by the AKC:
Collie + Lhasa Apso = Collapso, a dog that folds up easy for transporting
Spitz + Chow Chow = Spitz-Chow, a dog that throws up a lot
Pointer + Setter = Poinsetter, a traditional Christmas pet
Great Pyrenees + Dachshund = Pyradachs, a puzzling breed
Pekingnese + Lhasa Apso = Peekasso, an abstract dog
Irish Water Spaniel + English Springer Spaniel = Irish Springer, a dog fresh and clean as a whistle
Labrador Retriever + Curly Coated Retriever = Lab Coat Retriever, the choice of research scientists
Newfoundland + Basset Hound = Newfound Asset Hound, a dog for financial advisors
Terrier + Bulldog = Terribull, a dog that makes awful mistakes
Bloodhound + Labrador = Blabador, not a popular dog with CIA agents
Malamute + Pointer = Moot Point, owned by... oh, well, it doesn't matter anyway
Collie + Malamute = Commute, a dog that travels to work
Deerhound + Terrier = Derriere, a dog that's true to the end
Venus & Mars
A WOMAN'S POEM:
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's rich and self-employed,
And when I spend, won't be annoyed.
Pull out my chair and hold my hand..
Massage my feet and help me stand.
Oh send a king to make me queen.
A man who loves to cook and clean.
I pray this man will love no other.
And relish visits with my mother.
A MAN'S POEM:
I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with
big tits who owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This
doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit.
Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man who's not a creep,
One who's handsome, smart and strong.
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's rich and self-employed,
And when I spend, won't be annoyed.
Pull out my chair and hold my hand..
Massage my feet and help me stand.
Oh send a king to make me queen.
A man who loves to cook and clean.
I pray this man will love no other.
And relish visits with my mother.
A MAN'S POEM:
I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with
big tits who owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This
doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit.
Things I've Learned About the South . . .
A possum is a flat animal that sleeps in the middle of the road.
There are 5,000 types of snakes and 4,998 of them live in the South.
There are 10,000 types of spiders. All 10,000 of them live in the South, plus a couple no one has seen before.
If it grows, it'll stick ya. If it crawls, it'll bite cha.
Onced and Twiced are words.
It is not a shopping cart, it is a buggy!
Jaw-P? means Did y'all go to the bathroom?
People actually grow and eat okra.
Fixinto is one word. It means I'm fixing to do that.
There is no such thing as lunch. There is only dinner and then there is supper.
Iced tea is appropriate for all meals and you start drinking it when you're two. Folks in the south do like a little tea with their sugar.
Backards and forards means I know everything about you.
The word jeet is actually a phrase meaning, Did you eat?
You dont have to wear a watch, because it don't matter what time it is, you work until you're done or it's too dark to see.
You dont PUSH buttons, you MASH em.
You measure distance in minutes.
You switch from heat to A/C multiple times in the same day.
All the festivals across the state are named after a fruit, vegetable, grain, insect, or animal.
You know what a DAWG is.
You carry jumper cables in your car - for your OWN car.
You only own five spices: salt, pepper, Dell Sauce, Tabasco and ketchup.
The local papers cover national and international news on one page, but require 6 pages for local high school sports, motor sports, and gossip.
Many think that the first day of deer season is a national holiday.
You find 100 degrees Fahrenheit a bit warm.
You know what a hissy fit is.
Going to Wal-Mart is a favorite pastime known as goin Wal-Martin' or off to Wally World.
You describe the first cool snap (below 70 degrees) as good chicken stew weather.
Fried catfish is the other white meat.
We don't need no dang Driver's Ed. If our mama says we can drive, we can drive.
There are 5,000 types of snakes and 4,998 of them live in the South.
There are 10,000 types of spiders. All 10,000 of them live in the South, plus a couple no one has seen before.
If it grows, it'll stick ya. If it crawls, it'll bite cha.
Onced and Twiced are words.
It is not a shopping cart, it is a buggy!
Jaw-P? means Did y'all go to the bathroom?
People actually grow and eat okra.
Fixinto is one word. It means I'm fixing to do that.
There is no such thing as lunch. There is only dinner and then there is supper.
Iced tea is appropriate for all meals and you start drinking it when you're two. Folks in the south do like a little tea with their sugar.
Backards and forards means I know everything about you.
The word jeet is actually a phrase meaning, Did you eat?
You dont have to wear a watch, because it don't matter what time it is, you work until you're done or it's too dark to see.
You dont PUSH buttons, you MASH em.
You measure distance in minutes.
You switch from heat to A/C multiple times in the same day.
All the festivals across the state are named after a fruit, vegetable, grain, insect, or animal.
You know what a DAWG is.
You carry jumper cables in your car - for your OWN car.
You only own five spices: salt, pepper, Dell Sauce, Tabasco and ketchup.
The local papers cover national and international news on one page, but require 6 pages for local high school sports, motor sports, and gossip.
Many think that the first day of deer season is a national holiday.
You find 100 degrees Fahrenheit a bit warm.
You know what a hissy fit is.
Going to Wal-Mart is a favorite pastime known as goin Wal-Martin' or off to Wally World.
You describe the first cool snap (below 70 degrees) as good chicken stew weather.
Fried catfish is the other white meat.
We don't need no dang Driver's Ed. If our mama says we can drive, we can drive.
ICE Agents vote "No Confidence" in Fed Leadership
Congratulations to the ICE Agents who voted "No Confidence" in our leaders.
They recognize politics when they see it, and they don't like it. And said so!
Bravo!
ICE Agents Vote 'No Confidence' in Leaders, Say Amnesty Coming
Monday, 09 Aug 2010 09:36 PM
The union that represents rank-and-file field agents at U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has unanimously passed a "vote of no confidence" for the agency's leadership, saying ICE has "abandoned" its core mission of protecting the public to support a political agenda favoring amnesty.
The National Immigration and Customs Enforcement Council of the American Federation of Government Employees, which represents 7,000 ICE agents and employees, voted 259-0 for a resolution saying there was "growing dissatisfaction and concern" over the leadership of Assistant Secretary John Morton, who heads ICE, and Phyllis Coven, assistant director for the agency's office of detention policy and planning.
The resolution said ICE leadership had "abandoned the agency's core mission of enforcing U.S. immigration laws and providing for public safety," instead directing its attention "to campaigning for programs and policies related to amnesty and the creation of a special detention system for foreign nationals that exceeds the care and services provided to most U.S. citizens similarly incarcerated.
"It is the desire of our union … to publicly separate ourselves from the actions of Director Morton and Assistant Director Coven and publicly state that ICE officers and employees do not support Morton or Coven or their misguided and reckless initiatives, which could ultimately put many in America at risk," the union said.
In a strongly worded statement, the union and its affiliated local councils said the integrity of the agency "as well as the public safety" would be "better provided for in the absence of Director Morton and Assistant Director Coven."
The statement also noted that:
• The majority of ICE's enforcement and removal officers are prohibited from making street arrests or enforcing U.S. immigration laws outside of the jail setting.
• Hundreds of ICE officers nationwide perform no law enforcement duties whatsoever because of resource mismanagement within the agency.
• ICE detention reforms have transformed into a detention system aimed at providing resortlike living conditions to criminal aliens based on recommendations not from ICE officers and field managers, but from "special-interest groups."
• The lack of technical expertise and field experience has resulted in a priority of providing bingo nights, dance lessons and hanging plants to criminals, instead of addressing safe and responsible detention reforms for noncriminal individuals and families.
• Unlike any other agency in the nation, ICE officers will be prevented from searching detainees housed in ICE facilities, allowing weapons, drugs and other contraband into detention centers — putting detainees, ICE officers and contract guards at risk.
• Senior leadership ignores reports that ICE internal investigations by the office of professional responsibility conceal agency and supervisor misconduct and are used to retaliate against employees who make whistleblower-type disclosures or question inappropriate policies and procedures.
ICE spokesman Brian Hale said the agency meets regularly with representatives of the union to discuss its goal of ensuring public safety by focusing on finding criminal aliens and removing them from the country.
"We have fundamentally reformed immigration enforcement, and we are removing record numbers of criminal aliens because of it," Mr. Hale said. "Half of the people we have removed so far this year have been convicted criminal aliens — up from 35 percent a year ago.
"We understand the union's reason for engaging in creative collective-bargaining tactics and, regardless, we remain committed to working with them to address substantive issues in the interests of making our communities safer," he said.
ICE documents show that during the first nine months of fiscal 2010, a total of 279,035 noncitizens were removed from the U.S. as a result of ICE enforcement — a 10 percent increase over the total in fiscal 2008, the last fiscal year of the Bush administration.
But according to the union, illegal immigrants now being held in state and local jails seek out ICE agents for deportation to avoid prosecution, conviction and prison terms. It said criminal aliens "openly brag" that they are taking advantage of a broken immigration system and will be back in the United States within days to commit crimes — while U.S. citizens arrested for the same offenses serve prison sentences.
"ICE senior leadership is aware that the system is broken, yet refuses to alert Congress to the severity of the situation and request additional resources to provide better enforcement and support of local agencies," the statement said.
The no-confidence vote, taken in June and made public last week in a letter by the union, said the agency's senior leadership dedicated "more time to campaigning for immigration reforms aimed at large-scale amnesty legislation than advising the American public and federal lawmakers on the severity of the illegal-immigration problems."
The vote, first reported by the Washington Examiner, said Mr. Morton and Ms. Coven also ignored the need for more manpower and resources within the agency.
Rep. Lamar Smith of Texas, ranking Republican on the House Judiciary Committee and a member of the House Committee on Homeland Security, told The Washington Times that the Obama administration is "simply not serious about enforcing all of our immigration laws."
Mr. Smith said ICE doesn't have the resources because it didn't ask for them, adding that "the Obama administration did not request a single new detention bed in their most recent budget request."
"So the limits on detention capacity that they now claim hold them back from further enforcement are of their own making," he said. "What's more, ICE is running under its average daily detention capacity — the Obama administration is not even using all the resources it has."
Michael W. Cutler, a retired 31-year U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) senior criminal investigator and intelligence specialist, said the no-confidence vote "makes it clear that the leadership at ICE has politicized a major component of national security at the behest of the administration."
"It is clear that the marching orders coming from the administration have nothing to do with securing our nation's borders or enforcing the immigration laws," Mr. Cutler said.
"It is an absolute absurdity to believe that our nation can successfully wage a war against terrorists who are determined to enter our nation and then embed themselves in our nation with virtually no fear of being identified, arrested or removed from our country," he said.
Janice Kephart, director of national security policy at the Center for Immigration Studies, described the no-confidence vote in a statement last week as an example of how ICE's mission was being "skewed towards supporting an unflinching goal of amnesty by refusing to allow agents to do their job."
Ms. Kephart, former counsel to the Sept. 11 commission and a nationally recognized border-security authority, suggested that ICE leadership — particularly Mr. Morton — needed to pay attention to the no-confidence vote and the concerns expressed by the rank-and-file agents.
"May I suggest that a significant problem with dismissing a no-confidence vote from your entire employee population is, when you run an agency of 7,000 officers and agents, you can't do your job unless they do theirs?" she said. "Oh wait, that is the whole point, is it not?"
Mr. Morton recently announced new guidelines telling ICE agents to focus on apprehending terrorists and criminals, causing many of agency's rank-and-file agents to wonder who, then, is responsible for tracking down and detaining the millions of other illegal border-crossers and fugitive aliens now in the country.
The new guidelines noted that ICE "only has resources to remove approximately 400,000 aliens per year, less than 4 percent of the estimated illegal-alien population in the United States," and that as a result, it needed to focus wisely on the limited resources Congress had provided the agency.
He said the agency would "prioritize the apprehension and removal of aliens who only pose a threat to national security and/or public safety, such as criminals and terrorists." Lesser priorities were given to foreign nationals caught crossing the border illegally or using phony immigration documents to gain entry, and those identified as fugitives after failing to show up for immigration or deportation hearings.
© Copyright 2010 The Washington Times, LLC
They recognize politics when they see it, and they don't like it. And said so!
Bravo!
ICE Agents Vote 'No Confidence' in Leaders, Say Amnesty Coming
Monday, 09 Aug 2010 09:36 PM
The union that represents rank-and-file field agents at U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement has unanimously passed a "vote of no confidence" for the agency's leadership, saying ICE has "abandoned" its core mission of protecting the public to support a political agenda favoring amnesty.
The National Immigration and Customs Enforcement Council of the American Federation of Government Employees, which represents 7,000 ICE agents and employees, voted 259-0 for a resolution saying there was "growing dissatisfaction and concern" over the leadership of Assistant Secretary John Morton, who heads ICE, and Phyllis Coven, assistant director for the agency's office of detention policy and planning.
The resolution said ICE leadership had "abandoned the agency's core mission of enforcing U.S. immigration laws and providing for public safety," instead directing its attention "to campaigning for programs and policies related to amnesty and the creation of a special detention system for foreign nationals that exceeds the care and services provided to most U.S. citizens similarly incarcerated.
"It is the desire of our union … to publicly separate ourselves from the actions of Director Morton and Assistant Director Coven and publicly state that ICE officers and employees do not support Morton or Coven or their misguided and reckless initiatives, which could ultimately put many in America at risk," the union said.
In a strongly worded statement, the union and its affiliated local councils said the integrity of the agency "as well as the public safety" would be "better provided for in the absence of Director Morton and Assistant Director Coven."
The statement also noted that:
• The majority of ICE's enforcement and removal officers are prohibited from making street arrests or enforcing U.S. immigration laws outside of the jail setting.
• Hundreds of ICE officers nationwide perform no law enforcement duties whatsoever because of resource mismanagement within the agency.
• ICE detention reforms have transformed into a detention system aimed at providing resortlike living conditions to criminal aliens based on recommendations not from ICE officers and field managers, but from "special-interest groups."
• The lack of technical expertise and field experience has resulted in a priority of providing bingo nights, dance lessons and hanging plants to criminals, instead of addressing safe and responsible detention reforms for noncriminal individuals and families.
• Unlike any other agency in the nation, ICE officers will be prevented from searching detainees housed in ICE facilities, allowing weapons, drugs and other contraband into detention centers — putting detainees, ICE officers and contract guards at risk.
• Senior leadership ignores reports that ICE internal investigations by the office of professional responsibility conceal agency and supervisor misconduct and are used to retaliate against employees who make whistleblower-type disclosures or question inappropriate policies and procedures.
ICE spokesman Brian Hale said the agency meets regularly with representatives of the union to discuss its goal of ensuring public safety by focusing on finding criminal aliens and removing them from the country.
"We have fundamentally reformed immigration enforcement, and we are removing record numbers of criminal aliens because of it," Mr. Hale said. "Half of the people we have removed so far this year have been convicted criminal aliens — up from 35 percent a year ago.
"We understand the union's reason for engaging in creative collective-bargaining tactics and, regardless, we remain committed to working with them to address substantive issues in the interests of making our communities safer," he said.
ICE documents show that during the first nine months of fiscal 2010, a total of 279,035 noncitizens were removed from the U.S. as a result of ICE enforcement — a 10 percent increase over the total in fiscal 2008, the last fiscal year of the Bush administration.
But according to the union, illegal immigrants now being held in state and local jails seek out ICE agents for deportation to avoid prosecution, conviction and prison terms. It said criminal aliens "openly brag" that they are taking advantage of a broken immigration system and will be back in the United States within days to commit crimes — while U.S. citizens arrested for the same offenses serve prison sentences.
"ICE senior leadership is aware that the system is broken, yet refuses to alert Congress to the severity of the situation and request additional resources to provide better enforcement and support of local agencies," the statement said.
The no-confidence vote, taken in June and made public last week in a letter by the union, said the agency's senior leadership dedicated "more time to campaigning for immigration reforms aimed at large-scale amnesty legislation than advising the American public and federal lawmakers on the severity of the illegal-immigration problems."
The vote, first reported by the Washington Examiner, said Mr. Morton and Ms. Coven also ignored the need for more manpower and resources within the agency.
Rep. Lamar Smith of Texas, ranking Republican on the House Judiciary Committee and a member of the House Committee on Homeland Security, told The Washington Times that the Obama administration is "simply not serious about enforcing all of our immigration laws."
Mr. Smith said ICE doesn't have the resources because it didn't ask for them, adding that "the Obama administration did not request a single new detention bed in their most recent budget request."
"So the limits on detention capacity that they now claim hold them back from further enforcement are of their own making," he said. "What's more, ICE is running under its average daily detention capacity — the Obama administration is not even using all the resources it has."
Michael W. Cutler, a retired 31-year U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) senior criminal investigator and intelligence specialist, said the no-confidence vote "makes it clear that the leadership at ICE has politicized a major component of national security at the behest of the administration."
"It is clear that the marching orders coming from the administration have nothing to do with securing our nation's borders or enforcing the immigration laws," Mr. Cutler said.
"It is an absolute absurdity to believe that our nation can successfully wage a war against terrorists who are determined to enter our nation and then embed themselves in our nation with virtually no fear of being identified, arrested or removed from our country," he said.
Janice Kephart, director of national security policy at the Center for Immigration Studies, described the no-confidence vote in a statement last week as an example of how ICE's mission was being "skewed towards supporting an unflinching goal of amnesty by refusing to allow agents to do their job."
Ms. Kephart, former counsel to the Sept. 11 commission and a nationally recognized border-security authority, suggested that ICE leadership — particularly Mr. Morton — needed to pay attention to the no-confidence vote and the concerns expressed by the rank-and-file agents.
"May I suggest that a significant problem with dismissing a no-confidence vote from your entire employee population is, when you run an agency of 7,000 officers and agents, you can't do your job unless they do theirs?" she said. "Oh wait, that is the whole point, is it not?"
Mr. Morton recently announced new guidelines telling ICE agents to focus on apprehending terrorists and criminals, causing many of agency's rank-and-file agents to wonder who, then, is responsible for tracking down and detaining the millions of other illegal border-crossers and fugitive aliens now in the country.
The new guidelines noted that ICE "only has resources to remove approximately 400,000 aliens per year, less than 4 percent of the estimated illegal-alien population in the United States," and that as a result, it needed to focus wisely on the limited resources Congress had provided the agency.
He said the agency would "prioritize the apprehension and removal of aliens who only pose a threat to national security and/or public safety, such as criminals and terrorists." Lesser priorities were given to foreign nationals caught crossing the border illegally or using phony immigration documents to gain entry, and those identified as fugitives after failing to show up for immigration or deportation hearings.
© Copyright 2010 The Washington Times, LLC
SOUTHERN WOMEN
Southern women know their summer weather report:
Humidity
Humidity
Humidity
Southern women know their vacation spots:
The beach
The rivuh
The crick
Southern women know everybody's first name:
Honey
Darlin'
Shugah
Southern women know the movies that speak to their hearts:
Fried Green Tomatoes
Driving Miss Daisy
Steel Magnolias
Gone With The Wind
Southern women know their religions:
Baptist
Methodist
Football
Southern women know their cities dripping with Southern
charm:
Chawl'stn
S'vanah
Foat Wuth
N'awlins
Addlanna
Southern women know their elegant gentlemen:
Men in uniform
Men in tuxedos
Rhett Butler
Southern girls know their prime real estate:
The Mall
The Country Club
The Beauty Salon
Southern girls know the 3 deadly sins:
Having bad hair and nails
Having bad manners
Cooking bad food
More Suthen-ism's:
Only a Southerner knows the difference between a hissie fit and a conniption fit, and that you don't "HAVE" them,
you "PITCH" them.
_____
Only a Southerner knows how many fish, collard greens, turnip greens, peas, beans, etc., make up "a mess."
_____
Only a Southerner can show or point out to you the general direction of "yonder."
_____
Only a Southerner knows exactly how long "directly" is, as in:
"Going to town, be back directly ."
_____
Even Southern babies know that "Gimme some sugar" is not a request for the white, granular sweet substance that sits in a pretty little bowl in the middle of the table.
_____
All Southerners know exactly when
"by and by" is. They might not use the term, but they know the concept well.
_____
Only a Southerner knows instinctively that the best gesture of solace for a neighbor who's got trouble is a plate of hot fried chicken and a big bowl of cold potato salad.
If the neighbor's trouble is a real crisis, they also know to add a large banana puddin!
_____
Only Southerners grow up knowing the difference between "right near" and
"a right far piece." They also know that "just down the road" can be 1 mile or 20
_____
Only a Southerner, both knows and understands, the difference between a redneck, a good ol' boy, and po' white trash.
_____
No true Southerner would ever assume that the car with the flashing turn signal is actually going to make a turn.
_____
A Southerner knows that "fixin" can be used as a noun, a verb, or an adverb.
_____
Only Southerners make friends while standing in lines, ... and when we're "in line,"... we talk to everybody!
_____
Put 100 Southerners in a room and half of them will discover they're related, even if only by marriage.
_____
In the South, ya’ll is singular, all ya’ll is plural.
_____
Southerners know grits come from corn and how to eat them.
_____
Every Southerner knows tomatoes with eggs, bacon, grits, and coffee are perfectly wonderful; that red eye gravy is also a breakfast food; and that fried green tomatoes are not a breakfast food.
_____
When you hear someone say, "Well, I caught myself lookin'," you know you are in the presence of a genuine
Southerner!
_____
Only true Southerners say "sweet tea" and "sweet milk." Sweet tea indicates the need for sugar and lots of it -- we do not like our tea unsweetened. "Sweet milk" means you don't want buttermilk.
_____
And a true Southerner knows you don't scream obscenities at little old ladies who drive 30 MPH on the freeway.
You just say,"Bless her heart"... and go your own way.
_____
To those of you who are still a little embarrassed by your Southerness: Take two tent revivals and a dose of sausage gravy and call me in the morning. Bless your heart!
_____
And to those of you who are still having a hard time understanding all this Southern stuff...bless your hearts, I hear they are fixin' to have classes on Southernness as a second language!
_____
And for those that are not from the South but have lived here for a long time, all ya’ll need a sign to hang on ya’lls front porch that reads "I ain't from the South, but I got here as fast as I could."
Southern girls know
men may come and go, but friends are fahevah !
Now Shugah, send this to someone who was raised in the South or wish they had been! If you're a Northern transplant, bless your little heart, fake
it. We know you got here as fast as you could.
Humidity
Humidity
Humidity
Southern women know their vacation spots:
The beach
The rivuh
The crick
Southern women know everybody's first name:
Honey
Darlin'
Shugah
Southern women know the movies that speak to their hearts:
Fried Green Tomatoes
Driving Miss Daisy
Steel Magnolias
Gone With The Wind
Southern women know their religions:
Baptist
Methodist
Football
Southern women know their cities dripping with Southern
charm:
Chawl'stn
S'vanah
Foat Wuth
N'awlins
Addlanna
Southern women know their elegant gentlemen:
Men in uniform
Men in tuxedos
Rhett Butler
Southern girls know their prime real estate:
The Mall
The Country Club
The Beauty Salon
Southern girls know the 3 deadly sins:
Having bad hair and nails
Having bad manners
Cooking bad food
More Suthen-ism's:
Only a Southerner knows the difference between a hissie fit and a conniption fit, and that you don't "HAVE" them,
you "PITCH" them.
_____
Only a Southerner knows how many fish, collard greens, turnip greens, peas, beans, etc., make up "a mess."
_____
Only a Southerner can show or point out to you the general direction of "yonder."
_____
Only a Southerner knows exactly how long "directly" is, as in:
"Going to town, be back directly ."
_____
Even Southern babies know that "Gimme some sugar" is not a request for the white, granular sweet substance that sits in a pretty little bowl in the middle of the table.
_____
All Southerners know exactly when
"by and by" is. They might not use the term, but they know the concept well.
_____
Only a Southerner knows instinctively that the best gesture of solace for a neighbor who's got trouble is a plate of hot fried chicken and a big bowl of cold potato salad.
If the neighbor's trouble is a real crisis, they also know to add a large banana puddin!
_____
Only Southerners grow up knowing the difference between "right near" and
"a right far piece." They also know that "just down the road" can be 1 mile or 20
_____
Only a Southerner, both knows and understands, the difference between a redneck, a good ol' boy, and po' white trash.
_____
No true Southerner would ever assume that the car with the flashing turn signal is actually going to make a turn.
_____
A Southerner knows that "fixin" can be used as a noun, a verb, or an adverb.
_____
Only Southerners make friends while standing in lines, ... and when we're "in line,"... we talk to everybody!
_____
Put 100 Southerners in a room and half of them will discover they're related, even if only by marriage.
_____
In the South, ya’ll is singular, all ya’ll is plural.
_____
Southerners know grits come from corn and how to eat them.
_____
Every Southerner knows tomatoes with eggs, bacon, grits, and coffee are perfectly wonderful; that red eye gravy is also a breakfast food; and that fried green tomatoes are not a breakfast food.
_____
When you hear someone say, "Well, I caught myself lookin'," you know you are in the presence of a genuine
Southerner!
_____
Only true Southerners say "sweet tea" and "sweet milk." Sweet tea indicates the need for sugar and lots of it -- we do not like our tea unsweetened. "Sweet milk" means you don't want buttermilk.
_____
And a true Southerner knows you don't scream obscenities at little old ladies who drive 30 MPH on the freeway.
You just say,"Bless her heart"... and go your own way.
_____
To those of you who are still a little embarrassed by your Southerness: Take two tent revivals and a dose of sausage gravy and call me in the morning. Bless your heart!
_____
And to those of you who are still having a hard time understanding all this Southern stuff...bless your hearts, I hear they are fixin' to have classes on Southernness as a second language!
_____
And for those that are not from the South but have lived here for a long time, all ya’ll need a sign to hang on ya’lls front porch that reads "I ain't from the South, but I got here as fast as I could."
Southern girls know
men may come and go, but friends are fahevah !
Now Shugah, send this to someone who was raised in the South or wish they had been! If you're a Northern transplant, bless your little heart, fake
it. We know you got here as fast as you could.
A Poem Worth Sharing
A Poem Worth Reading
He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.
Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.
And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For ol' Bob has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer
For a Soldier died today.
He won't be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.
He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won't note his passing,
'Tho a Soldier died today.
When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young
But the passing of a Soldier
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?
The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.
While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.
It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a Soldier--
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Soldier,
Who would fight until the end.
He was just a common Soldier,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honor
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."
He was getting old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.
Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.
And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For ol' Bob has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer
For a Soldier died today.
He won't be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.
He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won't note his passing,
'Tho a Soldier died today.
When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young
But the passing of a Soldier
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.
Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Some jerk who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?
The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.
While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.
It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a Soldier--
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Soldier,
Who would fight until the end.
He was just a common Soldier,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.
If we cannot do him honor
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."
An Open Letter to the Feds . . .
This is from John Thomas, a fellow student from Omaha Benson High School, back when we were just a few years younger.
Over the years, John has managed to learn to speak his mind. This is his most recent effort, which he proposes to email and/or regular mail to every elected or appointed official in the federal governmental system:
I wonder if they'll listen:
From: John E. Thomas
2317 Sago Drive
Bay City, Texas 77414
(979)-244-4987
mowermon@sbcglobal.net
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
To: Alejandro N. Mayorkas
RE: Administrative Alternatives to Comprehensive Immigration Reform.
Sir:
There’s that disturbing noise again. It never seems to go away. It’s always there, just barely discernable, but it actually seems to be getting louder each time I hear it. Can you hear it? Do you know what it is? No? I’ll tell you what it is. It’s the sound of anger, fear and frustration; the sound of angry people, American people. People like me. A lot of people like me. American people are raising their voices in protest. American people who are dissatisfied, disappointed, unemployed, unable to make ends meet. American people who are losing their homes, their jobs, unable to afford medication, unable to care for themselves; and there are hungry Americans. Perhaps you may have noticed that our country is in the midst of another ‘Great Depression’ although our government much prefers the politically correct term: ‘a ‘Slight Recession’ or a ‘Minor Market Adjustment’ or some other fairy tale.
I remember when I was growing up in the Midwest in the ‘40’s and ‘50’s. People were busy. The country was bustling with activity. We were proud to call ourselves ‘Americans’ and to know that we were lucky enough to live in the greatest country on earth, “the United States of America.” We were respected worldwide. We trusted our leaders and believed what they told us and felt secure in the fact that our great country was the ‘leader of the free world.’ Children could leave their homes and work all day at being children doing important ‘stuff,’ even after dark, and be perfectly safe. Their parents needn’t worry a bit about their children’s safety and they felt secure in their unlocked homes. Those were wonderful times. Magical times.
I’m a bit older now and times have changed. I would not dare to walk alone, after dark, through any neighborhood in this country today, including my own. Our doors are all triple-locked and the motion detectors are all turned on! Thousands of Americans are losing their homes every day through foreclosure! The unemployment rate is out-of-sight! Prices are skyrocketing! I would not believe a government official if he/she told me that the sun rose in the east and set in the west! Our national debt is so great and so out-of-control that our great, great grandchildren will never even be able to afford the interest payments! Our educational system is on a par with most of the less-industrialized third-world countries! Our taxes continue to rise! Our ridiculously overpaid and corrupt corporate executives continue to swindle and embezzle billions of our hard-earned American bucks! Our left-wing, liberal media, both printed and electronic, apparently made up of tree huggers, global warming ‘doomsday’ activists, and ‘save the whale’ advocates, dispense enough daily propaganda to rival our enemies in WWII. Motorcycle gangs and street gangs rule sections of many of our cities! Drugs are transforming our children into ignorant, slovenly, ineffective burdens on our economy! The ‘namby-pamby’ handling of criminals and the ‘bleeding-heart,’ ‘slap-on-the-wrist,’ judges in this country are an outrage! Our ‘country club’ prisons are disgraceful! Outrageously overpaid professional athletes give sports a bad name and negatively influence our children! Our elected officials, at the highest levels, routinely vote themselves pay raises and better benefits than the average American on the street while reducing or not adjusting to cost-of-living increases the benefits of fixed-income citizens!
I see reports of certain governmental officials complaining about how much our “overpaid” military personnel earn! I see images of illegal aliens, now proclaimed to be ‘undocumented immigrants” by our ‘Obama-speak’ government, holding illegal protest marches and desecrating and burning our American flag while police officers stand and watch, unable to interfere, but forced to ‘protect’ these criminals from harm. I see photos of Muslims, thousands of them, who daily totally shut down all traffic in certain sections of New York City so that they can prostrate themselves in the streets to worship whatever it is that they worship in between plotting to exterminate all non-Muslims! Our country, in the eyes of the rest of the world, is nothing but a ‘paper tiger’! We have no level of respect from any other country. political correctness has made eunuchs of us all! I am far more afraid of our own FBI, CIA and IRS and Secret Service than I ever was of Soviet nuclear missiles! Each time some natural disaster occurs anywhere in the world America is on the job immediately, dispensing food, water, clothing, shelter, medical assistance, etc. and that is commendable, however, while we are giving away all of these things to unfortunate but unappreciative victims of the disaster, using money that we don’t have, and having most of the items stolen or hijacked by their own (or our) unscrupulous government officials, where is the rest of the world? Watching the proceedings on the 11 o-clock news? Why are we always the good guys with the white hats but wind up always giving, ultimately for naught, but never receiving any thanks or anything in return?! I’m sick of ‘dialing 1 for English’! If ‘legal’ foreign residents of this country want to use the telephone then let them learn our language!
Now we have this little ‘surprise’ that our racially challenged president wants to spring on us in October, (which is barely understandable to the layman due to the liberal use of ‘legalese’ and ‘Obama-speak’ mumbo-jumbo) whereby, for the sake of ‘family unity’, we automatically ordain that all of the ‘illegal aliens’ in this country are immediately transformed into bona fide U.S. citizens just in time to vote!
Look! I’m not the smartest individual in the world by any stretch of the imagination but I think I’ve lived long enough to know when I’m being screwed! Let’s call a spade a spade, here! I’m ashamed and embarrassed for America! We allow these ‘illegal aliens’ to enter our country, unmolested, by sneaking across the border at night! We give them food, clothing, a home, free medical care, a free education for their children, no taxes and this all comes from my tax dollars! Yes, and yours too, unless, of course, you have a high-powered tax accountant/attorney on your staff to handle little annoyances like that! I have always been an American citizen. I was born in this country, I worked my butt off my whole life to support my family, but yet I can’t match the benefits that our government lavishes on these criminals who invade our country! We have an ineffectual, inadequate and incomplete fence on our southern border that is about as much good as a sign telling these criminals “please do not cross the border or we’ll be forced to immediately make you a U.S. citizen and support you and your entire family for the rest of your lives or until we run out of money, whichever happens first!” All we do is to heap more money on them which is immediately sent back to Mexico, or whatever their home country is, to pay for bringing more ‘illegal aliens’ to our country. I love this country and that’s why I refuse to allow it to go down the tube.
So, I just thought that I’d give you a little ‘heads up’ here. You might want to check again just to make sure you know where the nearest government emergency shelter is because “the feces is about to hit the ‘oscillating air mover’. The people in this country are way past ‘angry’ or ‘mad’. They are past ‘effin’ pissed off,’ too. The ground swell of Americans who think some of the same thoughts that I’ve set down here, plus many more that I haven’t, have had enough! We want our United States of America back. You should be ashamed of what you have done to our country and if it takes another revolution to open your eyes to the damage that you and your kind have done then “let the games begin!”
Wake up and smell the cordite!
Over the years, John has managed to learn to speak his mind. This is his most recent effort, which he proposes to email and/or regular mail to every elected or appointed official in the federal governmental system:
I wonder if they'll listen:
From: John E. Thomas
2317 Sago Drive
Bay City, Texas 77414
(979)-244-4987
mowermon@sbcglobal.net
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
To: Alejandro N. Mayorkas
RE: Administrative Alternatives to Comprehensive Immigration Reform.
Sir:
There’s that disturbing noise again. It never seems to go away. It’s always there, just barely discernable, but it actually seems to be getting louder each time I hear it. Can you hear it? Do you know what it is? No? I’ll tell you what it is. It’s the sound of anger, fear and frustration; the sound of angry people, American people. People like me. A lot of people like me. American people are raising their voices in protest. American people who are dissatisfied, disappointed, unemployed, unable to make ends meet. American people who are losing their homes, their jobs, unable to afford medication, unable to care for themselves; and there are hungry Americans. Perhaps you may have noticed that our country is in the midst of another ‘Great Depression’ although our government much prefers the politically correct term: ‘a ‘Slight Recession’ or a ‘Minor Market Adjustment’ or some other fairy tale.
I remember when I was growing up in the Midwest in the ‘40’s and ‘50’s. People were busy. The country was bustling with activity. We were proud to call ourselves ‘Americans’ and to know that we were lucky enough to live in the greatest country on earth, “the United States of America.” We were respected worldwide. We trusted our leaders and believed what they told us and felt secure in the fact that our great country was the ‘leader of the free world.’ Children could leave their homes and work all day at being children doing important ‘stuff,’ even after dark, and be perfectly safe. Their parents needn’t worry a bit about their children’s safety and they felt secure in their unlocked homes. Those were wonderful times. Magical times.
I’m a bit older now and times have changed. I would not dare to walk alone, after dark, through any neighborhood in this country today, including my own. Our doors are all triple-locked and the motion detectors are all turned on! Thousands of Americans are losing their homes every day through foreclosure! The unemployment rate is out-of-sight! Prices are skyrocketing! I would not believe a government official if he/she told me that the sun rose in the east and set in the west! Our national debt is so great and so out-of-control that our great, great grandchildren will never even be able to afford the interest payments! Our educational system is on a par with most of the less-industrialized third-world countries! Our taxes continue to rise! Our ridiculously overpaid and corrupt corporate executives continue to swindle and embezzle billions of our hard-earned American bucks! Our left-wing, liberal media, both printed and electronic, apparently made up of tree huggers, global warming ‘doomsday’ activists, and ‘save the whale’ advocates, dispense enough daily propaganda to rival our enemies in WWII. Motorcycle gangs and street gangs rule sections of many of our cities! Drugs are transforming our children into ignorant, slovenly, ineffective burdens on our economy! The ‘namby-pamby’ handling of criminals and the ‘bleeding-heart,’ ‘slap-on-the-wrist,’ judges in this country are an outrage! Our ‘country club’ prisons are disgraceful! Outrageously overpaid professional athletes give sports a bad name and negatively influence our children! Our elected officials, at the highest levels, routinely vote themselves pay raises and better benefits than the average American on the street while reducing or not adjusting to cost-of-living increases the benefits of fixed-income citizens!
I see reports of certain governmental officials complaining about how much our “overpaid” military personnel earn! I see images of illegal aliens, now proclaimed to be ‘undocumented immigrants” by our ‘Obama-speak’ government, holding illegal protest marches and desecrating and burning our American flag while police officers stand and watch, unable to interfere, but forced to ‘protect’ these criminals from harm. I see photos of Muslims, thousands of them, who daily totally shut down all traffic in certain sections of New York City so that they can prostrate themselves in the streets to worship whatever it is that they worship in between plotting to exterminate all non-Muslims! Our country, in the eyes of the rest of the world, is nothing but a ‘paper tiger’! We have no level of respect from any other country. political correctness has made eunuchs of us all! I am far more afraid of our own FBI, CIA and IRS and Secret Service than I ever was of Soviet nuclear missiles! Each time some natural disaster occurs anywhere in the world America is on the job immediately, dispensing food, water, clothing, shelter, medical assistance, etc. and that is commendable, however, while we are giving away all of these things to unfortunate but unappreciative victims of the disaster, using money that we don’t have, and having most of the items stolen or hijacked by their own (or our) unscrupulous government officials, where is the rest of the world? Watching the proceedings on the 11 o-clock news? Why are we always the good guys with the white hats but wind up always giving, ultimately for naught, but never receiving any thanks or anything in return?! I’m sick of ‘dialing 1 for English’! If ‘legal’ foreign residents of this country want to use the telephone then let them learn our language!
Now we have this little ‘surprise’ that our racially challenged president wants to spring on us in October, (which is barely understandable to the layman due to the liberal use of ‘legalese’ and ‘Obama-speak’ mumbo-jumbo) whereby, for the sake of ‘family unity’, we automatically ordain that all of the ‘illegal aliens’ in this country are immediately transformed into bona fide U.S. citizens just in time to vote!
Look! I’m not the smartest individual in the world by any stretch of the imagination but I think I’ve lived long enough to know when I’m being screwed! Let’s call a spade a spade, here! I’m ashamed and embarrassed for America! We allow these ‘illegal aliens’ to enter our country, unmolested, by sneaking across the border at night! We give them food, clothing, a home, free medical care, a free education for their children, no taxes and this all comes from my tax dollars! Yes, and yours too, unless, of course, you have a high-powered tax accountant/attorney on your staff to handle little annoyances like that! I have always been an American citizen. I was born in this country, I worked my butt off my whole life to support my family, but yet I can’t match the benefits that our government lavishes on these criminals who invade our country! We have an ineffectual, inadequate and incomplete fence on our southern border that is about as much good as a sign telling these criminals “please do not cross the border or we’ll be forced to immediately make you a U.S. citizen and support you and your entire family for the rest of your lives or until we run out of money, whichever happens first!” All we do is to heap more money on them which is immediately sent back to Mexico, or whatever their home country is, to pay for bringing more ‘illegal aliens’ to our country. I love this country and that’s why I refuse to allow it to go down the tube.
So, I just thought that I’d give you a little ‘heads up’ here. You might want to check again just to make sure you know where the nearest government emergency shelter is because “the feces is about to hit the ‘oscillating air mover’. The people in this country are way past ‘angry’ or ‘mad’. They are past ‘effin’ pissed off,’ too. The ground swell of Americans who think some of the same thoughts that I’ve set down here, plus many more that I haven’t, have had enough! We want our United States of America back. You should be ashamed of what you have done to our country and if it takes another revolution to open your eyes to the damage that you and your kind have done then “let the games begin!”
Wake up and smell the cordite!
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