....anyone want some Cake?....I was just listening to Johnny Cash, and suddenly felt the urge for something different... after all, I'm home alone...

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Girl's Night Out...

...well, the Wife, and a wonderful Lady friend from work are out on the town tonight... going to see a movie... 50 First Dates... then catch a meal somewhere... I let them take my car... can you say Thelma and Louise?... heh.. with two ladies that fine driving around in my car, I'll be lucky to have a Wife, a Friend, OR a car by morning... of course, the REAL kicker is that it gets 500 miles on a tank of gas.. and, it was full when I handed over the keys... damn, those wimmin could be anywhere by morning.. I'll keep you posted... on the UPside, I get an evening home alone... peace and quiet... pizza delivered.... the downside? I'm almost out of Scotch.. dammit... I should have stopped off at Dixie Lee Liquors last night while coming back from Nashville... so, it looks like Martini Hour at Straight White House will begin momentarily...

..oh, and before I forget, Geoffrey has got a chatroom/forum now... WHOO HOO!... and, I requested an obscure Ed Hanyes song... from the incredible album entitled... Ed Haynes sings Ed Haynes.... the delightful little ditty, "I Want To Kill Everybody"... and, as if by magic, the song appeared on his Dog Snot Radio... hey, he aims to please... so, go over and check out that song... listening to it will make you a better person... now, Geoffrey, I want to hear "Splash" from that same Haynes album.. you got THAT one, kemosabee?...

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Redneck Wisdom...

...more on the lighning ride to Nashville.... we took one of my Bro's friends to see him... Charlie.. now, I've known Charlie since he was 6... he hasn't changed much over the years.. I went to school with his big Sister... anyway, he's an incredible wit, and as "country" as is humanly possible.. his dry humor and satire made the trip fly by... and, during our ride, he said two things to me which I feel compelled to share...

"I was a'watchin' on the teevee the other day that Deeerector of the FBI.. and he sayud - 'Even though we've spent 5 Billion dollars on Homeland Security, the likely hood of theyum terrorists to pull off nuther attack as big as 9/11 still exists'.... well, hell-far.... iffin that's the case, theyun, I want my money back, dammit"


"whut I want is to feel safe in my own home... an' ta tell ya the truth, I don't... every Summer, I'm afreared to get out of my damn house....you want to fight terrorists? hell, I am terrorized every Spring... I'm terrorized enough to not want to leave my house... the guys are vicious... deadly.... fanatical... well armed... and are already in your country by the millions.. you want to make me feel safe from terrorists? OK, then, what I want to know is why we can't spend a few Billion on gettin' rid of all these dadburn mosquitoes..."

....I have to admit, when he first started the mosquito rant, I thought the punchline was going to be IRS Agents... heh... he's a one-of-akind.. and, trust me... that's a good thing... he probably should have a blog... but, he'd need to get a computer first..

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6 Hours with Democrats...

... yesterday, I rode in a car for 6 hours with two insane Democrats.. a good time was had by all... although, on three separate occasions, I was forced to utter a Deanie-O-esque "Yeeeaarrrrhhh"... and, I must have used the term "Hippie" about 6 thousand times between Knoxville and Nashvegas...

...we discussed Mr. Bush being a draft dodger, and having his education purchased by his Daddy, ...WMD or the lack thereof... Homeland Security and the lack thereof.... Foriegn Policy, and who'all hates us... man, it was incredibly entertaining, and I managed to keep my head above water during most of their rants, but they got me in the end... they hit me with one thing that stumped every argument... you wanna know what it was?.... Bush had been a cheerleader in college... I was floored.. how in the hell could I come back at that one?... finally, I feebly said, "Well, at least he was good lookin' enough to be a cheerleader, dammit.... you'd never see that ugly bastard Kerry being a cheerleader!"... I know... sad, really... but, it was all I could come up with at the time... hell, calling Dubya good lookin' is a far reach in itself..

...but, is it true?... was Dubya a cheerleader?.. I haven't Googled it yet... and, actually, I'm scared of what I might find from such a search.. so, any of you kind, gentle people out there have the skinny on Dubya sis-boom-baah'ing?...

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Visit to the Bro

...I'm heading back to Nashville in a few... goin' to see my Bro.. he's hanging tough, and keeping on keeping on... It'll be good to see him... plus, I'll be spending 6 hours in a car with my Mother... which is always an interesting experience... see ya'll later...

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I'm Stumped...

LeeAnn, over at the Chez Cheese.. has a new Caption Contest.... and, it's killing me... I'm a Star Trek fan, but I SWEAR TO GOD that I can't think of one clever caption... dammit... DAMMIT.... I think I need to have a few more drinks, and THEN try...

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Holy Popcorn, Batman!

...THIS is incredible... I had to read it twice to make sure I heard it right... WOW... quote of the day:

"The speed at which the babies came out was overwhelming. It was like a popcorn popper," the baby's grinning father, Keith Hanselman, told reporters"

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My New Baby...

...well... as promised, here she is.. fresh from being cleaned with loving care... after having had about 250 rounds fired through her.... ahhhh.... my baby.... isn't she sweet?

...and here is a cool view of my RD 30 scope.....

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The Marines are landing...

... just in case you are interested... some Marines view deployment as an opportunity to finally do their job.... Good luck, gentlemen... Semper Fi..

Marines Taking Over For Army In Iraq
By Scott Schonauer
Stars and Stripes
European Edition
February 27, 2004

AL-ASAD AIR BASE, Iraq — Once they crossed the Kuwaiti border into Iraq, the Marine helicopters flew so low over the desert that their wake ruffled tents and scared livestock.

A goat herder saw the dual- rotor CH-46s approach from the south and gave a long, slow wave.

The gesture surprised the pilots and crew, who braced for bullets instead of a friendly welcome.

"That was relieving, to see that," said 1st Lt. Eric Sandberg, a pilot with Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 261. "We're flying over people at 50 feet above their house and they're waving. That was pretty cool."

Not everyone in Iraq is going to be that accepting, and Marine pilots know it.

About 25,000 Marines are streaming into western Iraq to take over security and rebuilding duties from the Army. Members of Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 261 and Marine Light Attack Helicopter Squadron 167 are the first Marine aviation units to arrive at Al-Asad Air Base.

The sprawling former Iraqi air force base — about 110 miles west of Baghdad — is home to the Army's 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment, but will soon be the nerve center for the 3rd Marine Air Wing.

While some Marines rotating into Iraq helped topple Saddam Hussein's regime last year, most with the New River, N.C.-based Squadron 261, nicknamed the "Raging Bulls," have never been to Iraq, let alone on a real mission.

Some pilots and crewmembers have fewer than five years of flight time in the CH-46 and weren't even born when the CH-47 was first introduced to the military 30 years ago.

Sandberg, 25, of East North Port, N.Y., has only eight months of flight time in the CH-46 and looks at the seven-month deployment as an opportunity to "actually get a chance to do your job."

"This is what we've been training for," he said. "Some guys spend their whole career and never go anywhere or do anything."

The Marines have trained for months for this moment.

Many heading to the Middle East practiced in the arid region of Yuma, Ariz., with simulated surface-to-air missiles.

"We're all pretty much eager to do our jobs," said Staff Sgt. Marvin Clark, who also read "Lawrence of Arabia" several times before the Marines launched off the amphibious assault ship USS Bataan on Friday for a dusty staging base in Kuwait.

The main mission of "the Bulls" will be to supply Marines at smaller bases scattered throughout the region and transport casualties to medical teams. Part of the area they will operate in is the menacing city of Fallujah, where insurgents have shot down at least three other Army helicopters.

The Marine squadrons have upgraded defensive equipment and implemented different tactics to counter possible attacks. But that doesn't mean the pilots and crewmembers do not think about the risks.

"It's really in the forefront of my mind," said pilot Maj. Brian Wiktorek, who is married and has four children. "We're sending crews out there against a valid threat and that's why we spend so much time training to really beat that threat."

The squadrons have a ton of work ahead before they take over for the Army aviators, who have been in Iraq for months.

First, they need to learn the lay of the land. While Marines and soldiers have conflicting philosophies on how to go about the same missions, squadrons from both services have planned to meet this week to exchange tips and tactics.

There is plenty to learn, but the Marines aim to fly real missions in about a week, said Lt. Mike Belding, the squadron commander.

And the coming days will serve as a real test for many in the unit, especially the junior pilots and crewmembers.

"When we leave here, the young guys will be better than their peer group because of the experiences they will have," Belding said.

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Bad Joke of the Day..

...fresh from the morning e-mail....

A little old couple prepares to go to bed. They no sooner hit the pillows when the old man farts and says, "Seven Points."

His wife rolls over and says, "What in the world was that?"

The old man replied, "It's fart football."

A few minutes later his wife lets one go and says, "Touchdown, tie score."

After about five minutes the old man lets another one go and says, "Aha. I'm ahead 14 to 7."

Not to be outdone, the wife rips out another one and says, "Touchdown, tie score."

Five seconds go by and she lets out a little squeaker and says, "Field goal, I lead 17 to 14."

Now the pressure is on the old man. He refuses to get beat by a woman, so he strains real hard, but to no avail.

Realizing a defeat is totally unacceptable he gives it everything he's got, and accidentally he shits in the bed.

The wife says, "What the heck was that?"

The old man says, "Half time, switch sides

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What's Going On?...

.... I'll be having homemade Chicken Soup tonight... wish me luck.... so, as I'm preparing for the gastronomical onslaught, I thought I'd throw out some links to some fine stuff....

Harvey's latest lurve note is killer... I like it a lot....

"Maybe a guy could fall instantly in love, but I doubt it. I think love creeps over you like a warm feeling on a clear blue fall day. This person is in your thoughts most of the time - all of the time, actually. You see her when you close your eyes, when you look off into the distance, when you pause from what you are doing and take a deep breath. You remember how her fingers felt when they touched you. The loved one becomes a part of you, the most important part. At least it's that way with me when I think of you."

Velociman is tempting the fates by smuggling contraband onto flights... I only hope, for his sake, that they dipped those babies in some disinfectant before they stored them... otherwise, in a few weeks those clippers are likely to be classed as a WMD....

Adam, the Single Southern Guy, is having a Birthday... and, his blog just had it's blogiversary.... go say hello...

The Bitterman gives us his fine 2 cents worth on the Gay Marriage deal.. a'men, brother... I agree...

Jack over at Random Fate is about to be interviewed.... go over and throw some questions his way....

Bill... from Bloviating Inanities.... gives us the most horrible sound imaginable... thanks Bill, my teeth hurt when I read your blog...

John from Castle Argghh has a great clip of some mudslogging Royal Marines... I've trained with'em, and they eat that shit up... crazy bastards.. just remember to right-click, and save the clip first...

...ok... that's it... time for dinner... if I survive, I'll write a fine gourmet-esque review of the soup in the morning... if I don't, come by the yard sale at my house in a few weeks, my gun collection will be going cheap... hey, don't let it be said that I don't wanna clue y'all in on a bargain...

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Caribou and Hailbut...

... last night, I was watching some National Geographic program about Caribou in Alaska... and, I started thinking about how much I enjoyed grilling... damn, I can't wait till summer.... stand around on the back deck... grilling some steaks..... it's always the simple things that I've enjoyed most...

...I grilled Caribou a few times up in Alaska... huge steaks cut by a sailor who had been a butcher in either a former life, or the civilian world... Matt had killed the Caribou from 250yds with a 30.06 a few weeks earlier.... and this was our first chance to sample it... I'd caught a 55 pound Halibut the week previous, and we cooked that baby at the same time.... Caribou... Halibut.... and Beer....

..We cooked them at the old USMC Cabin on Lake Andrew.... near the foot of Mount Moffet.... it was July, and the tundra was green and spongy... like walking on a wet mattress.... Mount Moffet was still covered with snow, and the reflection of the sky and snow cap on the lake, made the perfect back drop to our party.... it was one of the few days that the sky was clear, and the winds had stopped...

...our party was a thrown-together affair... when the sun came out, and the wind subsided, you dropped everything you were doing to enjoy it....so, four of us met at the cabin... Matt with the Caribou... I brought the Halibut.... Brown had a trunk full of beer.... and Todd forgot the plates... so.. we grilled anyway... and drank beer.... and ate our Caribou steaks.... grasped firmly in our fists while marinade dripped from our elbows....

...we washed our hands in Lake Andrew after the feast, and we settled back into the cabin... to poker, more beer, and lies... it was a great party... one of a hundred that we had at the cabin.... but, I think it was my favorite... Caribou... Halibut... and Beer... and Sunshine.... and no Wind... at the time, we couldn't have asked for anything more...

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Soy Boy...

...just in case you've been wondering what PETA has been up to lately....HERE it is...

"San Jose native Zachary Hocker -- recently named ``Sexiest Vegetarian Alive'' by People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals -- hopes to use his title as a platform to educate others about the social, political and moral merits of a meat-free existence.

He's also hoping to score a few dates.

The baby-faced Yale University student won the title last week over hundreds who entered the online contest sponsored by PETA."

...listen.. you want to know what's sexy? ...a 16oz steak... medium rare... being served up by a buxom brunette waitress with glasses.... you can keep your soy, boy...

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Bubba the Love Sponge...

..Bubba has been fired... evidently, having Alvin the Chipmunk, Scooby Doo, and George Jetson discuss sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll during his radio show was in bad taste... hey, who knew?... anyway, anyone got a recording of his show?..

...He managed to rack up the biggest FCC fine ever for indecency... now, that takes some doin', folks...

"The segments - which aired in Callahan, Clearwater, Port Charlotte and West Palm Beach - included graphic discussions about sex and drugs that were "designed to pander to, titillate and shock listeners," the FCC said. One segment featured the cartoon characters Alvin the chipmunk, George Jetson and Scooby Doo discussing sexual activities.

The segments ran 26 times and the commission proposed fining Clear Channel $27,500 for each airing, or $715,000."

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Quote of the Day...

....fresh from the BBC... Lady Helen Long provides us with this wonderful description of the fine art of the Lapdance....

"Having said that, it is a lap-dancing club. A councillor here said he thought it would be like ballet.

"Well, it's not like ballet. It's more a cross between gymnastics and faking an orgasm."

...I think she's right...

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....well, I just picked up my new toy today... a Bushmaster AR-15 carbine... heh.. I'll post photos tomorrow... I love it... Red Dot 30 sight and all... Mheh... oh, and for those of you visiting me via the Acidbath, scroll down to find the photos of the blogmeet.... have a nice visit...

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Checkin' the Caboose..

... what's your favorite part of a woman?.... personally, I'm a caboose guy... but, getting implants?... c'mon ladies... we're gonna love your ass REGARDLESS .... so, save the money...

"Lynne’s surgeon, Dr. Robert F. Centeno, who has a private practice in St. Louis, credits much of the surge in the procedure’s popularity on the famous fanny of one celebrity in particular -– Jennifer Lopez. “As many people that you might have that criticize her buttocks as being too big, she has impacted on what is perceived to be an attractive buttock,” he says. "

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Edit'd Photos....

....well, these are the sanitized photos from the Savannah Boozefest 2004.... enjoy...

Here are two VERY free spirits... Georgia and Acidman....

..and of course, some PROOF that we were actually there...

...and, two gentlemen of the highest caliber... Rick and Ken.....

..of course.. the GOOD pictures will have to wait for a while... HA! ....after all... these were taken quite early during the festivities....

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To All Concerned...

...time for some more mood music, people... this song goes out to all those crazy people who attended Acidman's Blogmeet.... pictures to follow later tonight.... anyway, on the way home tonight... I, as usual, was groovin' to some Zevon, and I suddenly saw this song in a totally different light... remember.. sing along... you'll enjoy it... I'll not post the lyrics this time... you guys can handle it... and... with that, I give you... LAWYERS, GUNS, AND MONEY... Rob, you made the right decision... enjoy the song..

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Bad Joke of the Day..

Two guys were discussing popular family trends on sex, marriage, and values. Stu said, "I didn't sleep with my wife before we got married, did you?" Leroy replied, "I'm not sure, What was her maiden name?"


A little boy went up to his father and asked: "Dad, where did all of my intelligence come from?" The father replied: "Well, son, you must have gotten it from your mother, 'cause I still have mine."

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...more will come about the blogmeet tonight... but, here are some Monday morning thoughts on my first Adventure in Savannah...

1. The view from the Westin kicks ass... we were up on the 9th floor, and watching the lights on the River at night was incredible.. Sunrise was, of course, amazing too... I recommend staying there if you get a chance...

2. Breakfast at Huey's on River Street.... I had the seafood omlette... that sucker was STUFFED with shrimp, scallops, lump crabmeat, and cheese... oh.. and it had a lobster sauce on top.... the absolute BEST omlette I've ever had..

3. Dinner at the Six Pence Pub... well, I had the Reuben Sandwich.... once again, I hate to keep telling y'all about food, but that sandwich was incredible... it had two layers of corned beef... with kraut in between... that was one serious sandwich.. far and away, the best Reuben I've ever had... plus, it went perfectly with the McEwan's we were drinking...

..more later...

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He's Bent...

..wow.... I don't EVEN want to know why he locked his dick up...

"A Russian man has been told he will have a bent penis for the rest of his life after trapping it in a padlock.

Firemen in Moscow spent an hour freeing the 20-year-old man after he called emergency services after a sex game went wrong.

A doctor at Moscow's Hospital No.50, where the man was treated, told local daily Moskovsky Komsomolets: "His penis will be bent to one side but it will still function."

Firemen used cold water and grease to try to release the padlock before finally cutting it free with a saw."

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The Aftermath...

....well, I'm back.... wow... what a party... I'd love to give you all the details, but, it'll take me a few days to ruminate over which parts are safe for blogosphere consumption... and, which parts should never be mentioned... EVER... heh... let me just say this.... Rick, Georgia, Rob, and Ken.... they are some fine individuals... and, I truly mean that... I'll drive down to Savannah any time you guys want...

...The Wife and I were talking on the way back... I asked her if she had a good time, and she said that she did.... so... there you have it folks... if The Wife had a good time, then I can tell you that a good time was had by all.... but.. in retrospect... I think ordering the shots before we left the bar was not the wisest choice I could have made... but... then again... heheheh..... they just made the whole thing a bit more.. uh.... memorable....

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See ya later, campers... I will be heading down towards Savannah in a few minutes... where, at noon tomorrow, I shall eat a Reuben Sandwich at the Six Pence Pub on Bull Street... I hope to see Acidman again.. and, also, to finally meet up with the Velociman... It'll be great to see Ken again.. I haven't heard if any other bloggers are going, so I guess we'll just wait and see.. anyway, my suite at the Westin has internet access, but I doubt I'll be sober enough to post... so, have fun... be nice.... and don't break anything while I'm gone..

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No Boobies.. dammit...

...anyone get the latest Sports Illustrated?... the Swimsuit Edition?.... personally, I like the idea of painted-on bikinis on hot babes... I'm for it... hell, those wonderful folks at SI even threw in a free CD with a Jimmy Buffett song on it.... hot babes and Buffett... win win.... until you try to load the damn CD... somehow, AOL got their dickfingered little hands on the situation, and managed ... totally... to fuck up a good thing.... it seems that you can't just pop the CD in and oogle hot chicks in painted on bikinis while kicking back with some Buffett.... ooohhhh.... no... a prompt comes up and asks you to install AOL on your PC.... if you say no, what do you get? ...that's right, children... the program closes... no AOL?, then no pert jiggling boobies for YOU... those bastards..... just another reason to hate the bejesus out of AOL... and Sports Illustrated should be ashamed of themselves...

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by Eric on Feb 20, 2004 | Comments(7) | TrackBack (2) | SWG Stories
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: A spin 'round the 'roll.
» DramaQueen links with: acting impulsively

What the Hell??

...like, what in the great-livin-hell is going on in Colorado?... I thought it was all Rocky Mountains... cool, fresh, spring water that they make beer out of... and lovely ski-bunny filled chalets.... damn, people.. get a frikkin' grip... and keep yer damn hands to your self...

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Tailgate Party

...the Rocky Top Brigade's "Volunteer Tailgate Party" is up over at Les Jones' place... give'er a look..

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Bad Joke of the Day...

Van Gogh's Relatives

After much careful research it has been discovered that the artist Vincent Van Gogh had many relatives.

Among them were:

His obnoxious brother, Please Gogh

His dizzy aunt,Verti Gogh

The brother who ate prunes, Gotta Gogh

The brother who worked at a convenience store, Stop'n Gogh

The grandfather from Yugoslavia, U. Gogh

The brother who bleached his clothes white, Hue Gogh

The cousin from Illinois, Chica Gogh

His magician uncle, Wherediddy Gogh

His Mexican cousin, Amee Gogh

The Mexican cousin's American half-brother, Grin Gogh

The nephew who drove a stagecoach, Wellsfar Gogh

The constipated uncle, Cant Gogh

The ballroom dancing aunt, Tan Gogh

The bird lover uncle, Flamin Gogh

His nephew, psychoanalyst E. Gogh

The fruit loving cousin, Man Gogh

An aunt who taught positive thinking, Wayto Gogh

The little bouncy nephew, Poe Gogh

A sister who loved disco, Go Gogh

His Italian uncle, Day Gogh

And his niece who travels the country in a van, Winnie Bay Gogh.
courtesy of Strange Cosmos...

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HERE is the link... wow...

"DUBLIN (Reuters) - An elderly Irishwoman shared a room with her sister's corpse for up to a year and sometimes slept with it in the same bed, newspapers report.

Mary Ellen Lyons never told anyone that her sister Agnes had died, the reports said. Even their brother Michael, who lived in the same remote bungalow in rural western Ireland, did not know.

An inquest heard on Monday that Agnes probably died in 2002 -- possibly in September -- at the age of 70.

However, her body was only discovered in August 2003 when Mary Ellen fell ill and had to be taken to hospital.

"I have tried to remember when Agnes died but I just can't remember," Mary Ellen said in a statement read out at the inquest. "I remember getting Christmas cards at Christmas 2002 but I cannot remember if Agnes was dead at the time."

The inquest heard the three siblings lived in "a world apart" and that the sisters were deeply religious.

After Agnes' death, Mary Ellen sometimes slept in the same double bed as the corpse and sometimes in the bathroom. Michael stayed in his own bedroom and the living room of the tiny house and never entered his sisters' room.

"There is no way that Michael would open the door of a woman's room," a neighbour told the inquest. "They wouldn't even watch the television if there was a woman on it. They were from a different era."

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by Eric on Feb 19, 2004 | Comments(3) | TrackBack (1) | Psycho Rants
» Resonance links with: From A Different Era

Time to Revolt..

...remember the Whiskey Rebellion?.... taxes.... remember the Revolution?... taxes... I don't know what we're gonna call the coming war over this tax, but, dammit people... TAXES SUCK!... to arms!!.... which way is it to Salt Lake?..

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A Nickname...

....ever had a nickname?... I never did... at least, not in the real sense of a childhood-moniker.... sure, I've done crazy stuff before, and gotten a "nickname" for a while... but, they never stuck.... in reality, I didn't like having a nickname... my name is Eric, dammit, and that's what I want to be called.... of course, the NATURAL Southern nickname for me would be "Red"... and, if you wanna piss me off, just call me "Red' and see what happens...."Eric the Red" is different... I don't mind that one so much.... hell, I'd even deal with "Carrot Top" before I put up with "Red"....anyway, I was just over at Lawren's Blog, and I read her post about Bed Bugs.... it got me to thinking about an old story... my Grandpa told me once...

...a good friend of my Grandpa's was "Karo" Wilson... well, maybe not a "good friend", but an acquaintance... hell, I don't know... it doesn't matter... anyway, he lived on the next-farm-over.... and, he'd come over to visit my Grandpa from time to time.... they'd sit on the back porch and tell old tales... sip some sweet tea... chew some King Bee twist tobacco.... and just generally act like happy old dirtfarm Hillbillies.... one day, just after Karo left... I was sitting on the back porch soaking up Grandpa's country wisdom, and I inquired about "Karo's" nickname.... Grandpa started laughing.... now, for those of you who are uninitiated with "Karo", it is a sweet, thick, clear corn syrup.... we used to use it on our pancakes instead of Maple Syrup...

....He told me that the whole community had been calling Karo that for 20 years or more... it seems that Mr. Wilson lived alone... and, sometimes he had a wee bit too much of the 'shine.....evidently, he also had a bedbug problem.... one night, after a hard day of drinking, he stumbled home and fell into bed.... after a few hours, he wakes up to find himself covered with bedbugs..... in a fit of drunken rage, he heads to the kitchen, and produces a jar of kerosene... which, he pours around the edge of his mattress... thinking that he has killed the menacing beasts, he slides back under the ragged blanket, and goes back to sleep... it was not until morning... in the clear, sober light of day... that he realized he had poured Karo corn syrup all over his bed... and slept in it all night...

..he recounted that story to someone in town... and the legend began... and Mr. Wilson was known as "Karo" from that moment forward...

...some days, I think I missed out by not having a nickname... then I think of Mr. Wilson.. and I'm glad I've never earned a nickname... yet..

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Conan the Barbarian...

...what can I say?.... other than, of course.... BHWHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.. ahhh Conan...

"Everything would have been fine if it hadn't been for Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, one of O'Brien's recurring gags. Triumph spreads bad cheer and ill-will wherever he goes, but when O'Brien let the hand puppet loose in Quebec City on Thursday night, his antics caused the normally serene Canadians to pop a few blood vessels.

"So you're French and Canadian, yes?" the puppet said in one of the offending segments. "So you're obnoxious AND dull." If anybody missed the subtle humor, it was followed with these gems: "You're in North America. ... Learn the language!" and "I can tell you're French. … You have that proud expression, that superior look, and I can smell your crotch from here."

The (English-speaking) audience in the Toronto theater loved the routines, but French Canadians were not the only ones who weren't amused."

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What's Going On?...

...I thought I'd take a walk through the old blogroll tonight... instead of writing anything myself... so, here are a few choice links that I enjoyed today....

....LeeAnn, the Ubersexy Mistress of Cheese, has a caption contest going on... give it a fling... if you read the comments, you'll recognize right off that bloggers are either incredibly funny, or totally psycho... but, either way, they're still fun to be around... just hide the sharp objects...

Don at Anger Management is taking a step back.... good luck, man... I wish you all the best...

Sir John is recounting a wonderous tale of shotguns, dead grouse, and getting rid of the husband... the funny thing is, I actually KNOW the owner of Caledonian Cartridge Company... what a small world, eh?....

Sam... from the Brier Patch... skipped town for the Islands... now, he's back, and we expect stories of beaches, babes, and drunken Jimmy Buffettesque parties..

The Bartender has a party going on in his comments.... WHOA!!... Buttery Nipples, a slip-n-slide from Walmart, and gallons of Redi-Whip.... evidenty there IS sex in the Champagne Room after all... heh... although, no one has owned up to the mysterious Robin Suit yet..

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Poor Guy...

...this is horrible... poor guy.. heh...

"HANOI, Vietnam (AP) -- With directions from the Internet and an old Russian truck motor, a Vietnamese farmer fulfilled his dream of making his own helicopter. The job took two friends, seven years and $30,000.

Now, military officials say he can't fly it, because he didn't get approval to build it, and they confiscated the makeshift copter. "

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Bad Joke of the Day..

Three dead bodies turn up at the mortuary, all with very big smiles on their faces. The coroner calls the police to tell them what has happened.

"First body: Frenchman, 60, died of heart failure while making love to his mistress. Hence the enormous smile, Inspector", says the Coroner.

"Second body: "Scotsman, 25, won a thousand dollars on the lottery, spent it all on whisky. Died of alcohol poisoning, hence the smile."

The Inspector asked, "What of the third body?"

"Ah," says the coroner, "this is the most unusual one. Billy-Bob the redneck from Oklahoma, 30, struck by lightning."

"Why is he smiling then?" inquires the Inspector.

"Thought he was having his picture taken."

courtesy of Strange Cosmos...

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Sorry, Folks...

....maybe it is a combination of events..... and, maybe it is the music I am listening to.... but, I'm getting hamMERD tonight.... y'all have a good night.... I am seeking shelter from this wee storm... as Buffett said, I am searching for the "One Particular Harbor"...... in any case, g'night, children..... I leave you with some vintage Zevon.... y'all have a good night, now.... I'll be busy looking for the bottom of this bottle of Scotch... don't worry folks....plenty of dirty jokes and Service poems in the morning.... momentary lapse of the concentration... that's all.... but, please.... Don't let us get sick...

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My Brother, Joshua...

...my little Bro... Joshua... he's the man... my given name is David.... Eric is my middle name... I guess my parents wanted to give us good Christian sounding names, so, their two sons were David and Joshua.... heh... my Dad, on the other hand, being a noble warrior in some previous life, decided that we needed strong and formidable names... Viking names.... to see us through life... so, I was Eric... and my little Bro was Leif.... David Eric, and Joshua Leif.... sometimes, I guess parents are a bit crazy.... anyway.... that's my Bro... Joshua....

... I was just sitting here thinking about him... I suppose C.W. McCalls was right... memories ARE like starlight.. they go on forever... anyway, I remember this about him.... he went off the "high dive" at the local swimming hole when I was too much of a coward to jump... and, hell, I'm four years older than he.... *although, in my defense, I did go off a couple years ago with my hands tied behind me, and my feet tied together... training I'd gotten from the Corps... impressed the little bugger, THAT did*...

..I remember a thousand things about him that I love.... and loved...

..once, he told me that I was his hero.. that I'd been a Marine... been round the world... done well for myself.... but, in my mind, he will always be one of my heroes.... I was taught by a Drill Instructor and a swift kick in the ass to have self-confidence.... self reliance..... Joshua had it handed to him naturally.... he was fearless from day one....

..tomorrow morning, he gets gutted like a fish.... on the right side... to remove a cancer from behind his lung.... near his heart... as soon as he heals, he'll be gutted on the OTHER side to get the cancer.... heh... all this, and a few doses of Chemo thrown in between.... yep... it should rock his world pretty good..... is he worried?... of course he is... what did he tell me tonight?...

.."look at it this way.... at least I'll have matching scars on both sides..."

...he's indeed cut from a fine cloth... I hope, someday, to have such courage...

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by Eric on Feb 16, 2004 | Comments(10) | TrackBack (2) | SWG Stories
» Random Fate links with: Lest we forget there are things other than politics and social issues...
» Blackfive - The Paratrooper of Love links with: Tuesday Trip

Sex or DIE?

...no comment....it's too unbelievable... if you're interested, the article is HERE.... I'll just post some selections.... ok?....

"To neighbours on the council estate in Yate, near Bristol, where he lives, Jack is just a dishevelled looking man.

But to his many devotees around the world he is a leading tantric sex guru, who claims he "heals" women of terminal diseases such as cancer by sleeping with them."...


"While Jack's job is one men dream of, he looks like most women's worst nightmare.

With his wispy grey hair, a body as scrawny as the man in the Mr Muscle adverts, a toothless smile and a smoker's cough, he's hardly God's gift. "

...oh, and....

"But I had an amazing time.The first session lasted for three hours. It was wonderful. He took me to places I'd never been before. It was a Friday and I didn't make myself sick for the whole weekend. I thought maybe his way of healing did work.

"Afterwards I couldn't get enough of Jack. We were having sex several times a day and every night. I began having orgasms through penetrative sex, which had never happened before. "

...Ladies.... I'm sorry.... I will NEVER understand you... never...

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A Million Dollars?

...I'm sure I'd blow most of it on "luxury" items.. but, not THIS....

"KALISPELL - A longtime Kalispell businessman was arrested Wednesday and charged with hiring prostitutes, and police say he may have paid women upward of $1 million for sexual relations."

...a million bucks?... either that dude goes like a rabbit, or he is one nasty lookin' sumbitch...

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Scots/Irish Music....

... sitting here... watching the snow fall out the window.... nursing my first Scotch of the evening... having just been forced to watch "My Fair Lady".... AGAIN... ahhhh.. I am safe in the manroom once more... with computer, gun cabinet, guitar, and stereo... damn... every man should have a place in their home where they can retreat to... and, this is mine... and life is good....

...last night, I taught myself a new song... it is by the Scottish group, "The Proclaimers".... I like it.... CHECK IT OUT.....

...also, Geoffrey left a link to a kickass Celtic song in my comments.... so, HERE IT IS... give them both a listen... they are totally different... but, both beautiful in their own ways...

..G'night.... I'm gonna read some blogs, finish the Scotch, and watch the snow fall...

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For the Ladies...

...the morning after Valentine's... get lucky last night, did ya?.. well, according TO THIS, you might have just thought you did... but, there is a moral to this story, ladies... rather than faking it, just say "no"... we'll understand.... it's not fair to you, and it ain't fair to us guys who love ya...

"More to the point, if you're enjoying the journey without reaching the destination, there are better ways to let your beau know. Forget about Danielle Steele; think Romeo and Juliet, "Atlas Shrugged," even "The Princess Bride." If you're focusing on making your tryst porn-worthy, there's a good chance you're sacrificing the XOXO for the XXX. After all, where's the romance in a contrived climax?"

... personally, I like the idea of including "The Princess Bride" into the mix.. both "Have fun stormin' the Castle!"... and, "As you wish..." should be used liberally during the orgasm reaching project...

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Last post on V-Day...

... alrighty... for those of you who read my humble blog, you'll recognize a few things right off... I like Zevon.... I like Sinatra... Dean Martin.... and George Thorogood... I know that you may think they are an unusual combination, but they really aren't....

…Hell, eclectic is as eclectic does...

…anyway, in my "About Me" page, I have my favorite song of the moment listed as "Hostage O" by Zevon... now, most of you retards probably haven't heard that pervvy little song, but I love it... it is STILL in my CD changer after 6 months... and, since this is Valentine's Day, I am going to treat you all.... Zevon himself described this song as "a Victorian song about sadomasochism and unrequited love"... personally, I think he was giving it a bad rap... how many of you have been willing to sacrifice everything... give everything.... take everything... for your love?... that, my friends, is the spirit of living... and the spirit of Valentine's Day... hell, remember those cards in 3rd Grade? "I like you... do you like me?.. check Yes or No"... heh.... to me, THAT is Valentine's.... uncertainty... surrender... love.... so, I leave you tonight with Zevon's "Hostage O".... and... anyone who says that they can't identify with this song... has not attempted to live life with wild abandon... as usual, the lyrics are just below... so you can sing along... Happy Valentine's Day... I sincerely hope that each and every one of you ends up a hostage or hostagee tonight... heh... "creepy masks" are, of course, optional...

Hostage O... by Warren Zevon...

I can see me bound and gagged
Dragged behind the clownmobile
You can treat me like a dog
If you make me feel what others feel
You can train me, you can drain me
If you make me lose control
I will be your prisoner
I will be your hostage-o
I will be your prisoner
I will be your hostage-o

All you have to do is ask
I'll be happy to say yes
I'll put on the creepy mask
If you'll grant me some forgetfulness
You can strain me, you can maim me
You can chain me to the floor
I will be your prisoner
I will be your hostage-o
I will be your prisoner
I will be your hostage-o

And this loneliness--
And it all goes by so slow
I will stand in line
For the sacrifice
For the shamefaced love
Of the ugly vice
I will pay the price to see how far you'll go
Let me be your prisoner
Let me be your hostage-o

I can see me bound and gagged
Dragged behind the clownmobile
You can treat me like a dog
If you make me feel what others feel
You can sprain me, you can blame me
If you make me lose control
I will be your prisoner
I will be your hostage-o
I will be your prisoner
I will be your hostage-o

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Amber Nectar...

...here it is.. Valentine's Day... when lurve is supposed to be the word of the day... and, here I sit... about to piss off a few of my fellow blogbuddies... most notably, Jack, Kim, Matt, and Donnie.... what am I going to do to kill these relationships?... yep, you guessed it... do a post on Scotch...

...in my defense, I have to start this off by saying that I am merely answering a lone cry in the wilderness... one that echoed through a mega-liquor store somewhere... a Man in distress... in front of the daunting Scotch section.. Ole Buddy Don, the Wandering Hillbilly, sent me this heartbreaking plea...

"hey eric,

tuther nite the wife n me wuz down to the likker store whar we wonted to git a quart of jack daniels, witch they wuz out of quarts so we wuz thankin bout trine sum scotch sangle malt. thang wuz, they had about fifty differnt brands, sum frum this island or that highland area, moren we could shake a stick at. we ended up gittin sum black bush, witch tiz ok but taint frum scotland. (miz bd has fond memories of sum black bush cumin in rite on time durin a trip to greece or sumsuch).

innywho, ye seem to know yer way round a likker store n id lack to request that ye post sum of yer wisdum on the subjeck. ifn ye wuz a'gonna spend sum money on a sangle malt frum scotland, whar wood ye start? btw, they gut likkers frum scotland that costs over $70 fer a bottle, so we dont wonta bust the bank on sumthin taint wurth drankin.

thankee in advants in hopes ye mite could doot
buddy don"

...so, faced with such a plea, I, being a man of honor, am leaping into the fray to provide advice... although, I must say... I am not an expert on Scotch... I know what I like, and I'm one helluva consumer.. but, alas, not an expert.. even the motto of the illustrious Rocky Top Brigade, hosted by South Knox Bubba seems to be chiding me into action....

"Be it resolved then, and known to all men of good standing (and women too, for that matter) throughout the land that the Rocky Top Brigade is hereby enjoined in the battle for truth, justice, and a good single malt Scotch whiskey for around $20.

...so, on to the recommendations... I will be quoting from my autographed copy of Mike Jackson's wonderful book.... "Scotland and its Whiskies"....

I am not going to talk about any Whiskies that are over 50 bucks.. Buddy Don is new to Scotch, so, he needs to start out small... no sense in putting up 80 bucks for a Laphroaig that he won't enjoy... know what I mean?... anyway, here are the "SWG Recommendations for the Novice Scotch Drinker"...

#1. The 10 year old Glenmorangie... you'll find it finished in various different casks.. port, sherry, and bourbon... don't worry about that... just dive in and pick one... should be around 35-45 bucks... it is the leading selling Single Malt in Scotland... a land inhabited by Scots... so, they should know... here is a Jacksonian description.... "spicy and salty, but delicate...perhaps too "light" of a flavor for some"... in my mind, this would be a winner for the Hillbilly to start with...

#2. The 10 year old Talisker... the only whisky made on the Isle of Skye... once again, should be able to pick one up for 35 to 45 bucks... this is one of my favorites.... again, Jackson says, "a peppery flavor... often attributed to the ridge of volcanic mountains near the distillery".. and no, it does NOT taste like lava.. go ahead, you'll enjoy it...

#3. The 10 year old Bowmore... this is one of the many incredible whiskies made on the Isle of Islay.. and, of these whiskies, Bowmore is perhaps the least "peaty"... it has a sea salt, burnt flavor, and is wonderful.. of the three whiskies I have recommended, this one would be your most "adventurous" one... you'll either love it, or hate it..

...so, Hillbilly... go forth and purchase Scotch.... oh, and let us know how it turns out... if you think the taste of these is too strong alone, feel free to add a wee bit of non-sparkling water to your drink... it takes the edge off, and allows the distinctive flavors to be found... heh... enjoy..

...now, let the hatemail commence..

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...Meals... Ready to Eat... yeah, right... I was just over at Dog Snot Diaries, and their post about MREs got me to thinking... which, at 7 on a Friday night, is probably NOT something I should be doing..

...one of my most interesting memories about bootcamp involved.... not MREs... but the sack lunches they gave us at the Rifle Range...

...first of all, let me just say this... I love to eat... no, you don't understand... I LOVE to eat... I've never been overweight.... but, I eat like a horse....when you break it all down, I am a visceral person... food... drink... life... I love it, and I want to do it.... that being said, USMC bootcamp was a bit of an awakening to me...

...first, going through the chow line at Parris Island was in no way akin to "dining"... you lined up... you got your chow and a plastic glass of water... *our Platoon was not allowed milk or "bug juice"... so, for three months, I drank water...*....anyway, you went to your table... sat at attention, and ate... that was it... hell, you were too damn tired to worry about taste anyway.... well... I started to get used to this way of eating.. as much as it sounds crazy.. but, we had too much on our minds during training to be worried about taste bud’s.. or, enjoying the meal... in some ways, it wasn't even a meal... it was energy.... energy that we would NEED come tomorrow.. so, we sat... at attention.... and ate...

...ok... proceed to the Rifle Range portion of training... they handed out sack lunches to the recruits.... of course, our Platoon was ALWAYS late for something.... heh... which Platoon WASN'T?....anyway, our sack lunches consisted of..

1. a ham and cheese sandwich wrapped in cling film....
2. a piece of fresh fruit.... apple, orange, or banana....
3. a boiled egg...

...like I said, we were always being forced to do everything quickly, so.. our lunch consisted of this... the DI would yell to all the seated recruits... "Reach into your bag, and get your sandwich!.....Eat it!..... One... Two... Three.... Four.... You're DONE!.... put it away!.... get your fruit..... Eat it!... One... Two... Three... Four..... You're DONE!... put it away".... and, ladies and gentlemen... 40 guys in Plt. 3072 would eat lunch in less than 45 seconds... pretty slick, from one point of view.. but, damn infuriating to me... so... I devised a plan....

...I'll not go into details here, but just let me say... when asked to produce the boiled egg, I'd hold it up as instructed.... when told to eat, I would smash my hands together.... smashing the shell... rub them together furiously.... and then, cram the remnants into my mouth..... heh.... I could.. and still can... eat a boiled egg in 10 seconds.... peel it? ... fuck that... I ain't got time to peel.. but, I NEED that egg....

..much the same can be said of the fruit.... I can eat a banana whole.. and an orange... peelings and all... hell, I'd have three big bites gone before the DI yelled for us to stop....... it was at this point that I got my nickname "Coon".... because, I assume, I would eat ANYTHING... every DAY, I prayed that God would allow me to be gifted an apple in my sack lunch...

....I NEVER got a damn apple....

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by Eric on Feb 13, 2004 | Comments(6) | TrackBack (1) | SWG Stories
» Les Jones Blog links with: Tailgate Party


...a few days ago, I gave the Wife her Valentine's gift... yeah, I know I should have waited, but, what-the-hell.....and both she AND I have been pretty damn happy ever since....... roses?... no way, man... a box of chocolates.... you can't go wrong with chocolate, no matter WHAT women tell you.... I purchased some of the finest that I've ever eaten.... Thornton's European Collection, folks... 885g of finest Continental Chocolates... yeah, you read that right... 885g.... with shipping and tax, it ends up being about 50 bucks per box.... but, she's a lot happier with her chocolate than she'd have been with a shitload of wilted roses in two weeks.... the downside to Thornton's is the distance... you can't just pop round the corner and pick up a box.... you gotta order them from Europe... which means that you have to plan AHEAD.... at least 7 business days ahead... so, I ordered my boxes on February 1st online, and they arrived on the 10th....

I bought a box for the girls at the office as well.... went round to each desk and gave them the opportunity to pick one or two out.... wished them all a happy Valentine's Day.... I ended up carrying the box into the conference room.... I sat it on the conference table where we all have lunch....well, by lunchtime, I noticed that there was only three pieces of chocolate left.... all the women seated around the table were eyeing each other.... all of them had had more than one piece..... so, I walked over and looked in the box....I said "wow! only a few pieces left.... but, none of these are my favorite...".. and, I pulled off the first layer of chocolates to reveal 36 MORE virgin pieces on the lower level..... heh.... you should have seen the reaction around that table when I did that... squeals of, "There's ANOTHER LAYER!!!" reverberated around the room.... I think it is safe to say that they enjoyed my gift to them all.... but, I still wonder who would have won in the brawl... you know, the one that would have taken place if one of the girls had tried to take those "last three pieces"... I have an idea, but, with women, you never know... it's usually the scrawny ones that bite the hardest..

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by Eric on Feb 13, 2004 | Comments(2) | TrackBack (1) | SWG Stories
» Voluntarily in China links with: Roses and American pancakes

Panty Thief...

...well, happy Valentine's Day... maybe THIS will help you get into the spirit..

"They left the sports bras and the full-coverage bras, opting instead for the sexy, lacy little numbers — 150 of them — in an illicit pre-Valentine's Day shopping spree at Victoria's Secret.

A shoplifter or shoplifters helped themselves to about $5,400 worth of demi-cup and push-up bras in various styles and sizes from the lingerie franchise in the Bellevue Square Shopping Center on Sunday, said Bellevue police spokesman Michael Chiu. "

..people will steal ANYthing...

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by Eric on Feb 13, 2004 | Comments(0) | TrackBack (1) | Psycho Rants
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: Now here is a home appliance I could go for!

Ahhh... NOW I understand..

... Hillbilly eloquence in all its glory....someone has taken a good stab at their family tree... courtesy of Strange Cosmos...

Kentucky Family Tree

Many years ago
when I was twenty three,
I got married to a widow
who was pretty as could be

this widow had a daughter
Who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her.
And soon the pair were wed.

This made my dad my son-in law
And changed my very life.
My daughter was my mother,
For she was my fathers wife.

To complicate matters worse
Although it brought me joy,
I soon became the father
Of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became
A brother-in-law to dad.
And so became my uncle,
Though it made me very sad.

For if he was my uncle,
Then that also made him brother
To the widows's grown up daughter
Who of course, was my step mother.

Father's wife then had a son,
Who kept them on the run.
And he became my grandson,
For he was my daughter's son.

My wife is now my mother's mum
And it surely makes me blue.
Because, although she is my wife,
She is my grandma too.

If my wife is my grandmother,
Then I am her grandchild.
And every time I think of it,
It simply drives me wild.

For now I have become
The strangest case you ever saw.
As the husband of my grandmother,
I am my own grandpa!

Submitted by Rodney M.

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Update - Neil Young

...well, I didn't get much of a response to my Neil Young Trivia post... only one brave soul, Jaded Angel, answered the call.... and, her answers were... uh... interesting, to say the least, but sadly... they were incorrect.... so, here are the answers...

1. "I'm gonna ride my llama from Peru to Texarkana"

2. "It was then I knew I'd had enough, Burned my credit card for fuel"

3. "Down the windy halls of friendship, To the rose clipped by the bullwhip, The motel of lost companions waits with heated pool and bar."

4. "I wish a was a trapper, I would give thousand pelts to sleep with Pocahontas and find out how she felt"

and, lastly...

5. "Welfare Mothers make better Lovers"

see?... he musta been higher than a kite to write some of this stuff....

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How NOT to remove a bra...

...fumbling with that bra clasp? hell, just use a CHAINSAW....

"The chainsaw operator, performance artist Marko Koenig, said Rauch was lying down during the rehearsal on Monday and suddenly bent forward just as he was applying the saw to her bra.

"I couldn't pull back the chainsaw quickly enough and cut her breast and stomach. It was terrible," he told Bild. The hospital in Karlsruhe, southwest Germany, where Rauch was treated declined to give details of her injuries. "We are not authorised to comment on our patients," a spokesman said."


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Poolfest 2004...

...First off, let me just start this little missive by saying that I am BUSTED!! ...yep, my Cousin found my blog... oh, the SHAME!.. the SHOCK!.. The HORROR!!....heh... dammit, I guess I'll have to stop using so much foul language and gratuitous sexual innuendo.... nahh... screw it... I guess it'll just remain the same... a few stories about mountain climbing... news articles about foot fetishes.... columns about stupid people who mail themselves places.... and, of course, the occasional Robert Service poem... all in all, not very exciting stuff... but, it is MY stuff... I'll not be changing, I think...

...anyway, back to the point of this post... Poolfest 2004 Continued.... Steve is coming over in a few minutes to beat the crap out of me on my own damn table again... so, I need to go and brush it off, mix a Martini, and do some yogic pool shooting exercises to get my mind right... I will... someday... beat him... dammit...

...I'll post the results later... heh... oh, and welcome to my new blood-related readers, I hope y'all enjoy the ride...

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I've got a new Hero..

...THIS GUY is the Iceman.... although, I've never heard it, I'm sure the Aussies already have a joke that starts out... "A bloke walks into the club with a shark on his leg"...

SYDNEY, Australia (AP) -- Lifeguards at a beach post north of Sydney couldn't believe their eyes when a man walked in with a small shark attached to his leg.


A senior lifeguard at the clubhouse, Michael Jones, said he couldn't believe his eyes when Tresoglavic turned up -- shark in tow.

"He basically asked the question: 'Can you help me get it off?' There's nothing in our procedure manual for that type of thing," Jones said.

The lifeguards flushed the shark's gills with fresh water, forcing it to loosen its grip on Tresoglavic's leg -- with blood oozing from 70 needle-like punctures. The shark later died.

...yeah, yeah.... it was only 2 feet long... but still, it's pretty amazing....

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by Eric on Feb 11, 2004 | Comments(2) | TrackBack (2) | Psycho Rants
» The Brier Patch links with: Links worth following
» The Brier Patch links with: Links worth following


...an interesting article on the Sole....

"And the prettiest foot! Oh, if a man could but fasten his eyes to her feet, as they steal in and out, and play at bo-peep under her petticoats!"

—William Congreve (1670-1729), Love for Love, Act I, Scene V

hey... what?...

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Neil Young Trivia...

..ok, kiddies...I was just listening to some vintage Neil Young.... and, let me tell ya, he musta been preeeeety fucked up when he wrote some of his songs... so.. you guys and gals fill in some of these blanks and see if you can guess either the song, or the correct lyrics... damn, but he IS entertaining.... oh, and no googlin', ya cheating bastards...

1. "I'm gonna ride my ______ from _____ to _______"

2. "It was then I knew I'd had ______, Burned my _____ _____ for fuel"

3. "Down the windy halls of ________, To the _____ clipped by the bullwhip, The motel of lost ____________ waits with ______ ____ and bar."

4. "I wish a was a ______, I would give thousand ____ to sleep with __________ and find out how she ____"

and, lastly...

5. "Welfare ______ make better ______"

c'mon, people.... don't be shy...

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...I knew it... it was only a matter of TIME...

"Pasadena, CA - Spammers have taken control of communications on Mars rover Spirit, and have started using it as an interplanetary spam relay announced NASA representative Sylvia Monborn.

NASA engineers first became aware the issue when the images of the Martian landscape from the pancam started to resemble hot young girls who like to spread them. For some of the engineers the new pictures were even more interesting than Martian rocks, but they eventually realized that something had gone wrong.

Direct Marketing Alliance President Wilbur Simons said, “The US government passed a law against unsolicited e-mail, so as spammers we had to be more creative. As far as I know the Mars government has not banned spam on their planet.”

NASA promised to track down the people responsible. “Please send to us any spam you receive originating from the ‘@spirit.mars’ address, so we can track down the offending spammers. Don’t forget to include the pictures too,” said primary investigator Elwyn Urchin.

Anti-spam advocates were upset by the news, and called for severe penalties for the offenders. “I think this makes it clear that we need to launch a tactical nuclear strike on the Mars rover to stop these spammers in their tracks,” said Marla Bacon of the Stop Spam Now organization."

....read THE REST.... heh..

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Bitterman Rides Again..

..now, THIS is a cool story.... crack open another one, Bitterman... I understand where you're coming from... it's the little things in life that count...

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Because I'm In the Mood..

...I've read this many times... and, I just wanted to share a bit tonight... Byron is da Man, folks... and, I've always had a thing for brunettes... escpecially ones that wear glasses.... but, hey, that's just how I'm wired... damn..."raven tress"... get's me revved each time I read it...

She Walks in Beauty by Lord George Gordon Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

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Bad Joke of the Day..

After getting all of Pope John Paul's luggage loaded into the limo (and he doesn't travel light), the driver notices that the Pope is still standing on the curb.
"Excuse me, Your Eminence," says the driver, "Would you please take your seat so we can leave?"

"Well, to tell you the truth," says the Pope, "they never let me drive at the Vatican, and I'd really like to drive today."

"I'm sorry but I cannot let you do that. I'd lose my job! What if something should happen?" protests the driver, wishing he'd never gone to work that morning.

"There might be something extra in it for you," says the Pope.

Reluctantly, the driver gets in the back as the Pope climbs in behind the wheel. The driver quickly regrets his decision when, after exiting the airport, the Supreme Pontiff floors it, accelerating the limo to 105 mph.

"Please slow down, Your Holiness!!!" pleads the worried driver, but the Pope keeps the pedal to the metal until they hear sirens. "Oh, my God, I'm gonna lose my license," moans the driver.

The Pope pulls over and rolls down the window as the cop approaches, but the cop takes one look at him, goes back to his motorcycle, and gets on the radio.

"I need to talk to the Chief," he says to the dispatcher.

The Chief gets on the radio and the cop tells him that he's stopped a limo going a hundred and five.

"So bust him," said the Chief.

"I don't think we want to do that, he's really important," said the cop.

The Chief then asked, "Who ya got there, the Mayor?"

Cop: "Bigger"

Chief: "Governor?"

Cop: "Bigger"

"Well, said the Chief, "Who is it?"

Cop: "I think it's God!"

Chief: "What makes you think it is God?"

Cop: "He's got the Pope for a limo driver!"

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Another Small Business...

...bites the dust... where would America be without her "Mom and Pop" businesses.. man, evil technology is a real asskicker.... dammit...

Ah, yes, another small business bites the dust. Tom and Suzi Wahl were just trying to run a mom and pop porn store out of their Lake Saint Louis home and along came the Internet, offering quicker, cheaper and better hits of video sex.

I mean, what's next? If your friendly, neighborhood porn dealer can't make a buck in this world, are any of us safe from the Internet? The next thing you know, the Internet will be providing online newspapers offering up-to-the-minute news quicker than you can get from radio and television.

Oh, I forgot, we already do that. You can read this column from the comfort of your computer by going to www.stltoday.com, then clicking on news and scrolling down to columnists and Talk of Charleytown. Or you can click on news, and then go to news subsections and click on St. Charles and, presto, Charleytown will appear.

...and then....

To say Wahl ran afoul of the authorities in this county would be a tad of an understatement. One day he was dressed up as Patrick Henry and protested a group of protesters who were parading in front of Bargain Books, south of St. Charles. A group called Citizens Against Pornography was protesting the practice of offering sexually explicit videos and magazines at Bargain Books.
Wahl showed up to protest the protest.

What he did that day almost landed him in big trouble.

"I talked openly and specifically about the joys of oral sex," he said then, in June 1998. "I was not disturbing the peace. I wasn't using a bullhorn. I was speaking, and I was arrested on the basis of my speech."

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Robert Service Time...

...today has been a beautiful day... clear and bright... crisp breeze and blue sky... and sunshine... I even dragged my lazy bones out for a walk through the neighborhood... yes.. a nice day, today... even as Monday looms large, I am doing a pretty good job of squeezing the last drops of nectar out of the remaining Sunday evening... I even managed to catch up on some of my reading... both online material, AND real books.... currently, I am almost finished with Stephen King's "The Dark Tower - The Gunslinger"... I have to confess that this is my first attempt to read a King book... not that I don't enjoy his writing, it's just that I normally stick to History and Biography type stuff... but, a good friend recommended that I read it.. and that, so they say, was that.... so, I'm doing as I was told... heh...

...but, now I have settled in for the evening, I suppose... no more walks... no more real books... I picked up my tattered old first edition of "Rhymes of a Red Cross Man" as I walked back to The Manroom.. I love this book... I bought it on e-bay for 30 bucks a few years ago... I bet I've read it 100 times... lately I just pick it up to leaf through... and place back on the shelf... but, not tonight... you guys are getting a dose of Service whether you like it or not...

...remember, gentle people... read it out loud to yourself... it is the way it was meant to be read... the rhyme is great, and you'll thank yourself afterwards... and, if you don't enjoy it, send me some hatemail or something... actually, this particular Service Poem is one of my all-time favorites..

The Law of the Yukon....by R. W. Service

This is the law of the Yukon, and ever she makes it plain:
"Send not your foolish and feeble; send me your strong and your sane --
Strong for the red rage of battle; sane for I harry them sore;
Send me men girt for the combat, men who are grit to the core;
Swift as the panther in triumph, fierce as the bear in defeat,
Sired of a bulldog parent, steeled in the furnace heat.
Send me the best of your breeding, lend me your chosen ones;
Them will I take to my bosom, them will I call my sons;
Them will I gild with my treasure, them will I glut with my meat;
But the others -- the misfits, the failures -- I trample under my feet.
Dissolute, damned and despairful, crippled and palsied and slain,
Ye would send me the spawn of your gutters -- Go! take back your spawn again.

"Wild and wide are my borders, stern as death is my sway;
From my ruthless throne I have ruled alone for a million years and a day;
Hugging my mighty treasure, waiting for man to come,
Till he swept like a turbid torrent, and after him swept -- the scum.
The pallid pimp of the dead-line, the enervate of the pen,
One by one I weeded them out, for all that I sought was -- Men.
One by one I dismayed them, frighting them sore with my glooms;
One by one I betrayed them unto my manifold dooms.
Drowned them like rats in my rivers, starved them like curs on my plains,
Rotted the flesh that was left them, poisoned the blood in their veins;
Burst with my winter upon them, searing forever their sight,
Lashed them with fungus-white faces, whimpering wild in the night;

Staggering blind through the storm-whirl, stumbling mad through the snow,
Frozen stiff in the ice-pack, brittle and bent like a bow;
Featureless, formless, forsaken, scented by wolves in their flight,
Left for the wind to make music through ribs that are glittering white;
Gnawing the black crust of failure, searching the pit of despair,
Crooking the toe in the trigger, trying to patter a prayer;
Going outside with an escort, raving with lips all afoam,
Writing a cheque for a million, driveling feebly of home;
Lost like a louse in the burning. . .or else in the tented town
Seeking a drunkard's solace, sinking and sinking down;
Steeped in the slime at the bottom, dead to a decent world,
Lost 'mid the human flotsam, far on the frontier hurled;
In the camp at the bend of the river, with its dozen saloons aglare,
Its gambling dens ariot, its gramophones all ablare;
Crimped with the crimes of a city, sin-ridden and bridled with lies,
In the hush of my mountained vastness, in the flush of my midnight skies.
Plague-spots, yet tools of my purpose, so natheless I suffer them thrive,
Crushing my Weak in their clutches, that only my Strong may survive.

"But the others, the men of my mettle, the men who would 'stablish my fame
Unto its ultimate issue, winning me honor, not shame;
Searching my uttermost valleys, fighting each step as they go,
Shooting the wrath of my rapids, scaling my ramparts of snow;
Ripping the guts of my mountains, looting the beds of my creeks,
Them will I take to my bosom, and speak as a mother speaks.
I am the land that listens, I am the land that broods;
Steeped in eternal beauty, crystalline waters and woods.
Long have I waited lonely, shunned as a thing accurst,
Monstrous, moody, pathetic, the last of the lands and the first;
Visioning camp-fires at twilight, sad with a longing forlorn,
Feeling my womb o'er-pregnant with the seed of cities unborn.
Wild and wide are my borders, stern as death is my sway,
And I wait for the men who will win me -- and I will not be won in a day;
And I will not be won by weaklings, subtle, suave and mild,
But by men with the hearts of Vikings, and the simple faith of a child;
Desperate, strong and resistless, unthrottled by fear or defeat,
Them will I gild with my treasure, them will I glut with my meat.

"Lofty I stand from each sister land, patient and wearily wise,
With the weight of a world of sadness in my quiet, passionless eyes;
Dreaming alone of a people, dreaming alone of a day,
When men shall not rape my riches, and curse me and go away;
Making a bawd of my bounty, fouling the hand that gave --
Till I rise in my wrath and I sweep on their path and I stamp them into a grave.
Dreaming of men who will bless me, of women esteeming me good,
Of children born in my borders of radiant motherhood,
Of cities leaping to stature, of fame like a flag unfurled,
As I pour the tide of my riches in the eager lap of the world."

This is the Law of the Yukon, that only the Strong shall thrive;
That surely the Weak shall perish, and only the Fit survive.
Dissolute, damned and despairful, crippled and palsied and slain,
This is the Will of the Yukon, -- Lo, how she makes it plain!

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Word of the Day?

...I wake up to a nice, quiet Sunday morning... begin reading a few blogs... and, what do I find? Yep, everyone seems to be talking about a certain subject... I know that a lot of blogs do the "Letter of the Day" thing... but, did I miss something? Is the word for today "Pussy"?

...Mog tells us what to do with a Hot Pussy....

..and Velocidude asks us about a Cold Pussy...

...dang.. I'm going back to bed..

UPDATE: Thanks to AlphaPatriot for THIS giggler...but, like Patriot says, THIS is just WRONG....

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Required Listening..

...being a bit of a Military history geek buff, Dog Snot Diaries has just provided me with 33 minutes of education.. go now, and listen to General MacArthur's speech... the last five minutes are the best, so perseverance is a must... funnily enough, I just finished re-reading American Caesar a few months ago...

....a full text of his "Duty, Honor, Country" speech can be FOUND HERE.. if you prefer to read it instead....

"You are the leaven which binds together the entire fabric of our national system of defense. From your ranks come the great captains who hold the nation's destiny in their hands the moment the war tocsin sounds. The Long Gray Line has never failed us. Were you to do so, a million ghosts in olive drab, in brown khaki, in blue and gray, would rise from their white crosses thundering those magic words: Duty, Honor, Country.

This does not mean that you are war mongers.

On the contrary, the soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.

But always in our ears ring the ominous words of Plato that wisest of all philosophers: "Only the dead have seen the end of war."

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Top of The Roof Gang

...I was just over at Castle Argghhh, and I noticed that John has a post reminding us of the USS Pueblo.. being a former Crypto/ELINT guy myself, his mention of "Surveillance Ships" got me to reminiscing... heh... I've seen a few of the Russian versions too, but alas, that is for another blog.. oh, and if you haven't read his post and comments, then get over there and read the story...

...I remember once watching a Master Gunnery Sergeant get inducted into the "Top of The Roof Gang"... at the time, he was ending his career in the Corps, and moving into a cushy civilian job as a Network Security Manager in Atlanta.. being a newbie at the time, I had never heard of the "Top of the Roof" boys... but, at his ceremony, the Captain gave a speech about the birth of Naval Cryptography... he spoke about the original "gang"... and how, those talented few Men had helped to change the course of the War in the Pacific... since then, Sailors and Marines who had added something to the Naval Crypto community, were honorarily inducted into the "gang".... so, it was quite an honor for his name to have been added to that list of notable cryptographers...

I just did a quick search for "Top of The Roof Gang", and didn't come up with much...except this little article from a book review...here is a small sample... click below to see the whole article....

"The JN-25 code appeared first on the radio circuits carrying the Japanese fleet's traffic on 1 June 1939. Long before this the U.S. Navy had established a network of listening posts across the Pacific--at Guam, Honolulu, and Cavite. (The Marines operated a fourth post, at Shanghai, that concentrated on Japanese diplomatic traffic.) Since 1928, the Navy had been training special radio operators in the esoteric craft of intercepting and taking down the unique Japanese Morse code. They soon became known as the "On the Roof Gang." Trainees sent to Washington for the course found that their first assignment each day was to climb a ladder to a concrete blockhouse where the classes took place, in great secrecy, atop the sixth wing of the old Navy Department Building. "

"Too Late for Pearl Harbor

By Stephen Budiansky

Few genuine mysteries remain from what is probably the most exhaustively probed event in U.S. history--the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. One that especially has nagged historians--until now--is the extent of U.S. Navy codebreakers' ability to read the main Japanese naval code in the months preceding the attack.

Almost immediately after World War II, congressional investigations broke the secret that the United States had been reading Japanese diplomatic codes before the outbreak of hostilities. Through these "MAGIC" decrypts, the U.S. government had definite knowledge on the night before 7 December 1941 of Japan's intentions to break diplomatic relations. For several weeks before, the decrypts also had contained strong hints that Japan was preparing to initiate hostilities.

When Frank Rowlett, a senior cryptanalyst of the Army's Signal Intelligence Service, arrived at his office in the old Munitions Building on the Mall in Washington, D.C., at noon on 3 December, he found the latest MAGIC decrypt on his desk. Minutes later he found himself seized with astonishment: The Japanese embassy in Washington was being ordered to destroy its codebooks and one of the two precious machines with which it had been entrusted for coding and decoding diplomatic traffic.

Colonel Otis Sadtler, who was in charge of distributing MAGIC, showed up at Rowlett's office at that moment and began peppering him with questions about what this latest communication could mean. Had the Japanese sent anything like this before? No, Rowlett said, and it was hard to see how the embassy people could handle even their normal flow of traffic if they destroyed their codes and machine. By this point, Sadtler had become so agitated that he pulled himself to attention and barked out, "Rowlett, do you know what this means? It means Japan is about to go to war with the United States!"

Decrypt in hand, Sadtler took off, literally running down the corridor to alert the head of Army Intelligence. Secretary of State Cordell Hull recalled later that when he saw this decrypt, he felt that "the chances had diminished from one in a thousand to one in a million that war could then be avoided."

On the night of 6 December, President Franklin D. Roosevelt received MAGIC decrypts that revealed the final instructions to Tokyo's embassy that it should break off relations. Roosevelt read in silence; he then turned to his aide, Harry Hopkins, who had joined him in his bedroom at the White House as the news came in, and said that this meant war.

Conspiracy theorists have mined the MAGIC decrypts for all they are worth. But while they show that Washington had strong indications of Japan's intentions to strike, they contain not a hint of where that strike might come. To know that would have required intelligence from a very different source. Historians have known since the 1960s that the U.S. Navy's brilliant decryption of the Imperial Japanese Navy's Fleet General Purpose Code in early 1942 turned the tide of the Battle of Midway that June. Also well established is the fact that the Navy began working on this code, which U.S. codebreakers dubbed AN-1, and later JN-25, from the time it first appeared in 1939.

What has not been well established, because of continuing security classification of key documents, is just how much of JN-25 was readable in the critical months before the Pearl Harbor attack. Perhaps inevitably, this secrecy has fueled speculation of something to hide in all of this; those out to prove that President Roosevelt deliberately concealed warnings of an attack on Pearl Harbor to bring the nation into war first have to prove that something was there to conceal. The mystery surrounding JN-25 offers fertile ground for speculation.

Several authors have attempted to weave a circumstantial case that British and U.S. codebreakers were indeed reading JN-25, and therefore that specific intelligence must have been available regarding Japan's plan of attack. The most recent and the most vehement of these authors is Robert Stinnett, whose new book, Day of Deceit (New York: The Free Press, 1999), contends that JN-25 and other Japanese codes were read throughout 1941. Stinnett argues that because documents show that U.S. Navy codebreakers were close to cracking JN-25 in October 1940, they surely were reading it a year later.

In testimony before the many investigating bodies that scrutinized the U.S. intelligence failure at Pearl Harbor, the Navy codebreakers recalled that only 10% to 15% of JN-25 was being read in November 1941. But those statements all were based on memory, not documentary evidence. And so enough doubt has lingered to keep the conspiracy theories alive.

In March 1999, while conducting research at the National Archives at College Park, Maryland, I discovered several heretofore unreleased documents detailing the Navy's work on JN-25 during this crucial period. These were declassified several years ago but had not yet been processed by the Archives staff; nor were they listed in the finding aids of materials available to researchers. The documents include contemporaneous, month-by-month, date-stamped progress reports on how many code groups in JN-25 had been deciphered. They also include the first declassified account of exactly how JN-25 was broken.

What they show beyond all doubt is that by 1 December 1941--when Japan changed all of its codes and call signs in preparation for the Pearl Harbor attack--the U.S. Navy had succeeded in identifying the meanings of only a minuscule fraction of the currently used JN-25 code groups. The documents show that in the year leading up to the Pearl Harbor attack, the Navy codebreakers failed to read a single JN-25 message sent at any time during that period. And the documents show why they failed: A year earlier, on 1 December 1940, the Japanese threw out their codebook and introduced an entirely new book for JN-25. It was a huge setback for the codebreakers. This new documentary evidence, of which Stinnett and other conspiracy theorists are completely
unaware, decisively refutes the claim that JN-25 or any other high-level Japanese codes were being read in the months leading up to the Japanese attack.

These newly available documents also show, ever so painfully, what might have been. The Navy's codebreakers had broken the basic key to JN-25 months before in a truly brilliant feat of cryptanalysis. They had developed pioneering methods of using IBM punch card sorters and printers in that precomputer age to automate much of the needle-in-a-haystack searching that is the stock in trade of codebreaking. All they lacked was the manpower to get the job done in time.

How different history might have been is heartbreakingly revealed in the JN-25 traffic from those fateful months that was only much later--in 1945 and 1946--broken out. One of the most striking of these messages, read four years too late, was an order sent by Carrier Division 2, on 4 November 1941:

YUUZUKI-DD will pick up and take to Kagoshima the torpedoes which CARDIVs 1 and 2 are to fire against anchored capital ships on the morning in question.

None of the messages mentions Pearl Harbor specifically, but their cumulative weight as certainly suggestive. Dozens of key messages give an unmistakable indication of preparations to initiate hostilities shortly after 1 December. Several make explicit references to a surprise air attack--several refer to practice drills for an "ambush"--to be launched from carriers against the U.S. fleet.

The New Code Appears

The JN-25 code appeared first on the radio circuits carrying the Japanese fleet's traffic on 1 June 1939. Long before this the U.S. Navy had established a network of listening posts across the Pacific--at Guam, Honolulu, and Cavite. (The Marines operated a fourth post, at Shanghai, that concentrated on Japanese diplomatic traffic.) Since 1928, the Navy had been training special radio operators in the esoteric craft of intercepting and taking down the unique Japanese Morse code. They soon became known as the "On the Roof Gang." Trainees sent to Washington for the course found that their first assignment each day was to climb a ladder to a concrete blockhouse where the classes took place, in great secrecy, atop the sixth wing of the old Navy Department Building.

At each of the Navy's monitoring outposts, operators tuned into the stream of dots and dashes and copied down messages that were, to them, completely incomprehensible--nothing but a series of meaningless Japanese syllables, each of which was represented by a unique string of dots and dashes in the Japanese Morse system. It was a mind-numbing task that demanded total concentration; a single slip could render a coded intercept worthless. Rumors circulated constantly about trainees who had gone "code nutty" under the strain of listening to nothing but beeps for hours on end.

Once a week, the message sheets were bundled together and turned over to a captain of one of the Dollar Line's "President" ships that plied the Pacific. The captains all held commissions in the U.S. Naval Reserve and so had authority to serve as couriers for top-secret documents; upon reaching the West Coast they would forward their packets of intercepts to the Navy Department via registered mail. A small amount of urgent traffic could be dispatched by way of the "Clippers" of Pan-American Airways. A small strongbox had been built into the hull of each aircraft just for this purpose, with the keys held by Navy officers.

The Navy radio operators who listened in on their future enemies noticed immediately that they were dealing with something new when the JN-25 messages began to appear. Unlike earlier Japanese codes, these were sent in groups of five numbers. The U.S. codebreakers would, in short order, become all-too-familiar with this type of code. It was a type used for all high-level Japanese naval and military communications, and it was based on a system that, to any normal human being, would seem impenetrable. Words, numbers, place names, punctuation, Japanese syllables, and various abbreviations were each assigned a distinct, five-digit code number. JN-25 initially used such 30,000 code groups. To encode a message, a clerk would look up each word or
character in a book and write down its numerical equivalent. Then came the devilish complication: The clerk would open a second book, a 300-page volume that contained 30,000 random five-digit numbers, 100 to a page. This was known as the "additive" book. He would open the book at random and copy out as many five-digit additives as there were code groups in the message he was preparing. He would then add each code group to each additive in turn. For example:

message text:
code text:
21936 48322 01905 38832 87039 11520 38832
from upper case Kaga stop ETA 2130 stop follows additive:
02923 41338 00989 15861 28959 23693 18229
enciphered text:
23859 89650 01884 43693 05988 34113 46051

To simplify matters and to keep each resulting sum of enciphered text a five-digit number, the addition was done digit by digit, without carrying (e.g., 9 plus 4 equals 3). When the clerk was finished, he had a string of five-digit numbers that, to any casual or even not-so-casual observer, would seem random and meaningless. Although the code group "stop" appears twice in the message text above, it appears in the final signal as 43693 in one place and 46051 in another. In another message it would appear as an entirely different number. That was a mighty armament against cryptanalytic attack.

To tell his recipient how to decipher this otherwise meaningless string of numbers, the code clerk's last step was to include in the message an additional five-digit group that served as a "key" or "indicator"--a number that, when decoded, would indicate on what page and line number of the additive book he had started. The recipient would turn to that page and line number, subtract the additives from the enciphered code groups he had received, and then finally look up the meanings of the recovered code groups.

The security of the system depended above all on not reusing any one stretch of the additive book too often. Japanese code clerks were under strict orders to pick a different starting point for each message. To spread the traffic even more thinly across the entire additive book, different clerks each were ordered to begin using additives in a different part of the book.

Only through the laziness of Japanese code clerks did the Navy's cryptanalysts make their first crucial break. Throughout the summer of 1939 the codebreakers at the Navy's OP-20-G in Washington, under the direction of Commander Laurance Safford, punched every intercepted message onto IBM cards and began groping for even the slightest irregularity that would give them a toehold. After searching every way they could imagine, they found one vague unevenness, so slight as to be almost invisible. If the code clerks really had done their jobs, the indicators would be random. They were not. When the codebreakers printed out a complete catalog of the indicators in each day's
traffic, they found that the numbers tended to bunch up. In other words, the clerks were tending to use the same pages over and over. (Not surprisingly, these pages corresponded to the front of the additive book, the easiest place to flip open a book.)

That was a small toehold indeed. But to a codebreaker it meant everything; it meant the theoretical possibility of beginning to tease apart the underlying code groups from the additive encipherment that concealed its true value. The trick was to find, among the thousands of messages, two that overlapped, two that had been enciphered with the same stretch of additive. If it was the cryptanalyst's lucky day, a pair of these overlapping messages might contain identical pairs of code groups that had been enciphered by one additive in one spot, another additive in another. From such slender reeds the cryptanalysts of OP-20-G--one year and hundreds of thousands of IBM cards later--had identified the numerical values of a few dozen code groups and a few dozen additives.

The First Break

The real break in JN-25 came on a single day in early fall 1940, and when it came it proved a remarkable blend of absolute brilliance, combined with sheer doggedness and just a touch of thievery.

To start, IBM runs had found another curious bunching. The only place where enough overlaps occurred to allow additives to be recovered were in the first four groups of messages. The IBM searches revealed that the same code groups were being used at the start of some messages. That led immediately to the hypothesis that these code groups stood for numerals: It was natural to begin a message by saying something such as "Reference your message 1234."

See much more http://www.usni.org/Proceedings/Articles99/PRObudiansky.htm

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Cheap Bastard...

...I swear... you can't make this crap up... and the guy is a former MAIL CLERK...

"A man who tried to cut his travel costs by shipping himself across the US in a cargo crate has been given one year's probation.

Charles McKinley, 25, shipped himself from Newark, New Jersey, to Dallas Fort Worth Airport in Texas last September.

He initially claimed he had been able to free himself from his 42-by-36-by-15-inch crate during the 1,500-mile flight and wander around the cargo area but later admitted he lied.

Judge Charles Bleil told him: "I don't like what you did. It was wrong and very stupid. But I'm glad you are standing here this morning, rather than have met a fate much worse by the stupidity of your actions."

The former New York shipping clerk, who could have received up to a year in jail and a $100,000 fine did not speak to reporters after he was sentenced."

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by Eric on Feb 06, 2004 | Comments(0) | TrackBack (2) | Psycho Rants
» DramaQueen links with: split personality
» DramaQueen links with: split personality

Ok, Ladies...

...now y'all have a REAL reason to get to the gym... no excuses now.... heh... SEE?

A London gym has developed a new fitness regime that it guarantees will increase the frequency, intensity and quality of customer's orgasms.

The Shag Workout is being launched at Gymbox in Holborn - and some participants claim to have reached a climax during test classes.

Gym bosses say the class involves a three-step process that aims to develop sexual technique, confidence and endurance resulting in a more satisfying session in the sack whilst improving fitness levels.

A Gymbox spokesman said: "Once inhibitions have been lowered and specific muscles targeted 25% of women participants in the test classes have reported experiencing the elusive and much sought after multiple orgasm for the first time in their lives."

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Credit Where It Is Due..

...I am a lucky man... truly lucky.. I have had the honor - so far, in my short life... to have had the pleasure of meeting some people who are the genuine article... some black... some white.... some men... some women.. but, outstanding individuals all the same... people that, when I talk to them, I'm inspired.... people who, as I watch them work, play, speak, or write... make me want to be a better person... hell, I try to live my life as best I can... and I, like most, never really think I've hit the nail on the head yet...

..then, I see these people who are my idols... my ideal.. my heroes... and, suddenly... as I stand in awe of them, I realize that they have cracks... just like me.. cracks in their shells of life... gaps in their armor... we aren't perfect, no matter what others may think of us... and neither are our idols... they are just men and women... teachers and musicians.... friends and lovers... and, they have their own devils to deal with... just like us...

..I guess it all has to do with degrees, maybe…

..when I was growing up, one of my heroes was Mike Soscia… he played Catcher for the Dodgers… at the time, my Little League team was called the Dodgers.. and, I played Catcher…hell, every kid I knew wanted to play Baseball in the Pros.., heh.. I wanted to be just like “Mike” back before it meant Jordan…. later, when I was in the Corps, Chesty Puller and “Red” Mike Edson became my heroes… but, in a different way… deep down, I knew I’d never have the guts… or the opportunity… to do anything remotely like they had…

…I suppose, as we age, we begin to respect different qualities in our “Heroes”… Puller’s son joined the Corps as well… lost his legs in Vietnam… Chesty was the man, but he had some cracks…. Edson? He went into the fire… life took too much from him, I guess… Are they still my Heroes?… oh, HELL yes….but, lately, I have come to be inspired by different things… not by leading a Division… not by charging a machine gun nest…. but, instead… by different displays of bravery… the little bits of everyday bravery that I see in my life all around me….

.today, I saw someone handle the personal stress of a situation so well, that they now rank as one of my Heroes… what did they do? ….they faced a situation that was uncertain… a situation that, with a roll of the dice, could change their life… and they didn’t buckle… they maintained a steady course, and got the job done… I sat right there and watched it all unfold… and, it was a magnificent thing to watch… truly incredible... I was prouder of them at that moment… than I have been for ANYTHING or ANYONE in a very long time…. Thanks for the show today… you have inspired me..

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by Eric on Feb 05, 2004 | Comments(0) | TrackBack (1) | SWG Stories
» The Bejus Pundit links with: Lewis B. "Chesty" Puller

C'mon People....

Once again, our School System goes off the deep end....

"A seven-year-old girl has been suspended from her US primary school for telling a classmate he would end up in hell.

Brandy McKenith, a pupil at Sunnyside Elementary in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, reacted after hearing a boy use the phrase "I swear to God".

McKenith's classmate told the teacher that Brandy had told him "You're going to go to hell for swearing to God" and the youngster was sent to the headteacher's office."

..the day is coming, folks, when one child tells another that they "don't find them attractive", and they get expelled for it....

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by Eric on Feb 05, 2004 | Comments(5) | TrackBack (1) | Psycho Rants
» Argghhh!!! The Home of one of Jonah's Military Guys© links with: Logistics and Reenlistment.


...The Scotsman has the scoop on Polaroid's latest marketing campaign....hehe....cool...

"Polaroid Uses Sex Dolls and Handcuffs for Valentine Message

By Graham Hiscott, Consumer Affairs Correspondent, PA News

Camera manufacturer Polaroid is risking controversy with a new advertising campaign to be launched tomorrow featuring sex dolls, handcuffs and blindfolds.

Billboards appearing in London have words such as “love” and “be mine” created from photographs of various sex-related objects made to look like individual letters.

The campaign is part of attempts by Polaroid to fight back against competition from rivals to its instant photo technology, such the phenomenally successful digital cameras.

The posters do not include the Polaroid name, but have a website address enabling visitors to send a Valentine message by email or mobile phone using risqué pictures.

“It’s fun stuff,” said Christian Hinchcliffe, from advertising agency Euro RSCG which created the campaign. “It’s hard not offend one section of the population or the other these days.”

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Loch Tay Boat Song...

...I am learning a new song.. THIS IS IT.... a great friend of mine in Scotland is heard playing and singing in the recording... if he knew I'd posted this, he'd have a stroke.. he was a bit too close to the microphone, and the vocals are kinda garbled...but, for all you hardcore people, I'll be posting the lyrics at the bottom for your enjoyment...also, I'd just like to dedicate this song to all the gorgeous Red Headed Wimmin out there...you ladies are gems… all of ya...

...anyway, he and I always played guitar together every Saturday.. he has a totally different finger-picking style than I do, and we sounded pretty good together.. of course, he was a much better singer than I... still, I could play a bit better than he...but, for some reason, trying to sing this song is kicking my butt... he sings it with such feeling... such sadness... such love…

...this song...in my mind...is the BEST example of unrequited love that I have ever seen...basically, the singer is a ferryman rowing his boat across Loch Tay.. everyday, he ferries a girl with beautiful red hair...the love of his life.. known in the Gaelic as "nighean ruadh", or "Red Haired Girl"... he is deeply in love with this girl... but, she does not want him... it is a tragic, Scottish tale.. and, I love it.. I truly do...

...having spent time in Tayside, I know well the mountain called Ben Lawers ... as I do Killin (pronounced Kill-een) and Aberfeldy... two towns on either side of Loch Tay.. dammit, I WILL learn this song... or kill myself trying... it is too wonderful NOT to learn..

The Loch Tay Boat Song...traditional...

When I've done my work of day
And I row my boat away
Down the waters of Loch Tay
As the evening light is fading
And I look upon Ben Lawers
Where the after-glory glows
And I think on two bright eyes
And the melting mouth below
She's my beauteous Nighean Ruadh
My joy, my sorrow too
And although she is untrue
I cannot live without her
For my heart's a boat in tow
And I'd give the world to know
Why she means to let me go
As I sing ha-ri ha-ro

Nighean Ruadh, your lovely hair
Has more glamour I declare
Than all the tresses rare
'Tween Killin and Aberfeldy
Be they lint, white, brown, or gold
Be they blacker than the sloe
They are no more worth to me
Than the melting flake of snow
Her eyes are like the gleam
Of the sunlight on the stream
And the songs the fairies sing
Sound like songs she sings at milking
But my heart is full of woe
For last night she bade me go
And the tears begin to flow
As I sing ha-ri ha-ro

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by Eric on Feb 03, 2004 | Comments(2) | TrackBack (1) | SWG Stories
» Blackfive - The Paratrooper of Love links with: Wednesday Warp

Pre-Valentine's Day...

...for all of you hopeless romantics out there, here are some lovely poems to add to your hand-made Valentine's Day cards....courtesy of Strange Cosmos..

I thought that I could love no other.
Until, that is, I met your brother.

Roses are red, violets are blue,
sugar is sweet and so are you.
But the roses are wilting, the violets are dead,
the sugar bowl's empty and so is your head.

Of loving beauty you float with grace.
If only you could hide your face.

Kind, intelligent, loving and hot.
This describes everything you are not.

I want to feel your sweet embrace.
But don't take that paper bag off of your face.

I love your smile, your face, and your eyes.
Damn, I'm good at telling lies!

My darling, my lover, my beautiful wife:
Marrying you screwed up my life.

I see your face when I am dreaming.
That's why I always wake up screaming.

My love, you take my breath away.
What have you stepped in to smell this way?

My feelings for you no words can tell.
Except for maybe "go to hell".

What inspired this amorous rhyme?
Two parts vodka, one part lime.

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More on the Toy Story...

..a few days ago, I mentioned an ongoing battle between a lady who sells Adult Toys, and the Texas Justice System.....well, folks....the hits just keep on coming... if you ask me, it is starting to get pretty crazy now.. hell, leave the girl alone!.. I mean, good LORD, it's just a friggin' vibrator...

"CLEBURNE, Texas- A judge on Thursday imposed a temporary gag order in the obscenity case of a woman arrested for selling two sex toys.

Johnson County Attorney Bill Moore filed a motion seeking to stop Joanne Webb, her family and attorney from talking about the misdemeanor case that has generated publicity nationwide since her November arrest after an undercover police sting. Moore has repeatedly refused to comment on the case."


"But Webb was arrested after two police officers, posing as a couple, bought two products after approaching her at her husband's business in Burleson, about 10 miles south of Fort Worth. She now faces up to a year in jail and a $4,000 fine if convicted.

Webb is one of 3,000 Passion Parties consultants nationwide, including more than 150 in Texas, and the first in the company's 10-year history to be arrested for such an offense.

Before the gag order was imposed Thursday, Webb said the products are designed to help women spice up their marriages and are not obscene.

"We should be able to open up the lines of communication, not shut them down, to help women be educated about these issues; it's once again infringing on my freedom," she said, referring to the gag order."

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The Adak Rat Killin' Episode...

...for those of you who have ever been stationed in remote and/or desolate places, you might understand a little of the psychology behind this story...for the rest of you, this story will be a journey into the ultimate boredom...

..once upon a time, I was a young Marine stationed on Adak Island... to say that it had an inhospitable climate is like saying the surface of the fucking Sun is "a bit warm".... anyway, we had a McDonalds downtown... a bowling alley... a club... a shooting range.. and not much else... usually, the weather was sideways.... which means, it was either raining, sleeting, or snowing horizontally... on the times that it was not raining, sleeting, or snowing sideways, the weather was STILL sideways... only there was not frozen water in it...

...Adak was great if you liked to be rained on, and continually walk around with that "windswept" look...

...but, I'm not going to blog about the weather, I want to tell you about the Rat Killin...

...all of the Marines lived on the second floor of the barracks.. the sailors lived on the first floor...something about climbing stairs and PT or something.. anyway, we had a ladderwell at either end of the second floor that lead directly down to an external door... this door's lock was damaged, and it was always open just a wee bit... of course, there was another door at the top of the ladderwell.. anyway, at the top we had our communal microwave.. many a happy half-hour was spent standing in the hallway beside the microwave waiting for your "Ramen Noodle and Vienna Sausage Surprise" to be sufficiently nuked..

..just outside the door at the bottom, the Seabee Det had placed a dumpster...

...being from the country.. and not having had much to do with dumpsters before, I was unaware of their attraction to rats... until, one day, whilst nuking my evening meal, I walked over to the ladderwell door, and peeped out the window.... and right there... sitting on the top step... sniffing the fragrant smell of my simmering meal... was a rat... a big, nasty, fat bastard... and I was NOT going to give him any of my Ramen Noodles...

..so, I ran back to my room, and told my roomie about the rat.. instantly, an idea flashed into his mind, and... like a flash, he was up, and out of the room... running the opposite direction of the microwave, he disappeared down the North Ladderwell... I thought to myself, "Dang, he must not like rats very much.." and I walked back towards the South Ladderwell.... where my dinner was cooking.. as I got close to the microwave, I heard a huge "SLAM!".. once again, I peeped out the tiny window in the door, and saw that the outside door had been shut... thus, trapping the rat.... seconds later, my breathless roommate appeared.. sporting a grin so evil it would have made Genghis Khan shudder....

.. now, it just so happened... that word spread quickly through the Marine Barracks of our new hostage... before I knew what was going on, LCpl Lomosad was already organizing... "Get the keys to the Gear locker!" was heard... followed by "Oohhraa!"... and various other sounds of glee...

...I checked my noodles....almost done... I peeped into the ladderwell....yep, there sat Mr. Confused Rat....

...next thing I know, Lomosad walks up to me with a softball bat.... thrusts it to my chest, and says.... "You found him...you and these two are gonna charge from the top...me and these guys will come up from the bottom....just remember...CLOSE the DOOR, and wait for us to come in before you start..."

...needless to say, boys and girls, that rat didn't stand a chance...he was trapped in the ladderwell with 6 extremely bored Marines armed with Louisville Sluggers... the charge lasted less than 10 seconds once we were all in position... Marines 1, Rats 0...

..after that, the weekly Rat Killin became a vital part of the morale and welfare of Company I, Marine Support Battalion... sometimes, if no rats would dare venture into the ladderwell... and we had sufficient snow... we'd go out and SHAKE that dumpster... when the rats scampered out, the Rat Killin would begin... I'm sure that... not only were we providing a vital public service, but, it was quite tiring after a while... and, it probably could have been classified as PT..

...what is the moral of this story? ...I don't know... except... keep your Marines busy... otherwise, you can't even GUESS what kind of things they'll get started... oh, and just the other day, Lomosad sent me a PHOTO of us all in the ladderwell with our bats... I hadn't remembered a camera being there.... my Grandchildren will be so proud of my time in the Service...heh.

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Deployment Boredom...

...I just got this from the e-mail... an ole Jarhead buddy sent it to me.. I don't know who this Mr. M is, but what he describes sounds pretty standard.. Hell, on Adak, we used to beat rats to death with softball bats... but, that is for another blog... a bored soldier or Marine is a dangerous thing... heh..

Mister M here, from Baghdad, Iraq.

My last article dealt with some of the more serious aspects of the war in Iraq, but I would like to take this space and time to address something we like to call "Cartoonish Buffoonery".

You see, when you take a thousand or so cavalry and artillery soldiers, and you send them overseas with nary a drop of liquor, and put them into an oft-psychotic and surreal environment such as Iraq, the ensuing tomfoolery is of epic proportions.

The things I have witnessed here have been unbelievable. The fucking Buffoonery needle is pegged out in the red.

For example:



Yes, donkeys. The poorer Iraqi people have these big ass nasty donkeys that they use for everything under the sun. They stand around in traffic next to 50 thousand dollar cars. I swear to you that I've seen a donkey with most of a Dodge Omni strapped to it's back. Not only this, but everyone who rides a donkey or a donkey-cart has some kind of big fucking stick that they use solely for donkey-beating purposes. It's great.

A few donkey anecdotes:

I was at a UXO site, where an unexploded bomblet of one kind or another was awaiting demolition. I was pulling local security at the gun truck, when I noticed an unusually high number of donkey-cart teams milling around in the road. An idea struck me. I attracted the attention of a child riding a donkey-cart, and motioned to him with crude hand-gestures that he should beat the animal. The child, eager to please, proceeded to wail the living fuck out of the donkey with a short rubber hose. The donkey made a loud donkey-noise and I laughed, for it was tremendously funny.

A man was pulling weeds in his garden one day, and a donkey was standing near him. Without any provocation, the donkey walked over and screamed into the man's ear. This obviously frightened the man, who was in some kind of deep rumination while pulling his weeds. The guy stood up, and proceeded to chide the donkey in rapid, angry Arabic. The donkey, who does not speak human language, paid him no heed, and screamed again. The man then kicked the donkey in the face, Jet Li-style. The donkey left in a hurry, feelings hurt.

Then you have the donkey-jacking. What? Yeah, that's what I said. Two donkey carts rolled down the street, one with a single passenger, one with three men. The 3-man cart pulled alongside the 1-man cart, and a man leapt off onto the single-man's cart. He threw the hapless driver onto the other cart, and rode the newly-stolen cart off into the sunset, while his partners held the man down to watch his donkey and cart slowly make a getaway. It was terrible and funny as fuck at the same time, most of the other things that I find amusing.

I could go on for days about the donkeys. But I don't want to focus too much on one thing. Let's move on to the Iraqis themselves.

Like any other nation, the Iraqis have a few smart people, a whole lot of average people, and a very vocal minority of stupid, stupid people. Unfortunately, in a place like Iraq, with a whole lot of extremely deadly shit lying around and virtually no rules and regulations for abovementioned deadly shit, some Cartoonish Buffoonery is inevitable.

Check this out. These fuckin' guys, in a hairbrained scheme to get the brass shells from tank rounds to melt it down and sell it, decided to put hundreds of high-explosive tanks rounds into a roaring fire. I'm not going to elaborate on the exact nature of their injuries, but let's just say it was anything but pretty.

Three drunken Iraqis on a sidecar motorcycle tried to kill us with a handgun. We were armed with machine guns, among other things. (Note: Do not bring a pistol to a machinegun fight)

Once, we found what we thought was a dead body. We find dead bodies all the time, they're generally not a big deal in a place like this, but this one was right next to a vehicle checkpoint, and we didn't notice it for about an hour. A sergeant kicked the body gently to see if the man was alive, because we couldn't register a pulse or breathing, due to the corpse's immense fatness. The body made no response. The sergeant kicked him again, harder. Again, no response. The sergeant then proceeded to royally kick the fuck out of the body, with grandiose and looping football kicks. This time, the 'corpse' woke up and complained that he was so fucking drunk that he couldn't feel his legs, and that he was going back to sleep.

Last night, the Iraqis buried three rocket propelled grenades in the road-median in the center of a bustling marketplace. They told us they buried them, and showed us where. Maybe I'm expecting too much here, but I could imagine a thousand better places to bury a fucking RPG round.

We have an ongoing issue where religious leaders of one kind or another tell the masses that the Americans have XRAY night-vision goggles, or XRAY sunglasses, that we use to look through the billowing black robes of the Iraqi women. It would be funnier, except that this once instigated a crowd to become so unruly that shots were fired. The ensuing chaos was not funny at all. We always show the Iraqis our night-vision goggles so that they can see what we see, in order to counter this propaganda.

A few nights ago two men had a grenade fight on a bus.

Yes, you read that right. A fuckin grenade fight. My question is, how in the fuck can you win such a contest on a bus? Doesn't everyone die? Well, yes, most everyone died. The 'winner' of the grenade fight (the guy who got to throw TWO grenades) was missing an arm and most of his head, because the grenade went off about 1 second after he dropped the spoon.

God damn.

Then there's the Iraqi children. Here in Al Thawra, the average family has about 8 fucking kids, so there are literally swarms of children lurking everywhere. The shit these kids do is idiotic beyond words. First of all, the word they use to address all Americans is "Mister". So imagine a crowd of roughly 100 kids screaming "MISTER MISTER MISTER MISTER". Not only that, but they all ask "WHATS YOUR NAME", or say some kind of random nonsense, like "DONKEY SADDAM". The cacophony accompanying any group of children is enough to drive a man insane. Not only that, but they beg for everything under the sun, including water, MREs, candy, knives, money, and whatever.

The thing is, these kids are not starving, by any means. They are healthy children, by third-world country standards. I always see them walking around munching on candy and snacks, like any other children. They just really like Americans. They caper around, so any drive down any street is some kind of fucking half-ass circus, with children dancing around, yelling at us, shooting us the 'thumbs up', doing cartwheels, backflips, and all manner of frolicking.

One of them threw an onion at me and hit me in the fucking ear.

One day, a bunch of them were dragging MISSILES down the street. Fucking MISSILES. Like, high explosive missiles that fly through the air and blow the fuck up; they were dragging them down the goddamn fucking street.

We saw about a dozen of them drinking beer and staggering around, too. Most of these kids were like 9 years old. That was some funny ass shit. Especially when they began projectile-vomiting.

Oh, and let's not forget the child-rearing techniques of the Iraqi peoples, such as beaning your fucking kids with rocks if they do something wrong. I witnessed this hilarious bit of child abuse in An Najaf first, then here in Baghdad in abundance, where I grew used to, then to appreciate it's subtle beauty. Apparently, baseball sized stones are the Iraqi substitute for a paddle for prepubescent ass-whoopins.

And if the children of the ghettos are particularly irritating, you give a larger child a bit of candy or something to beat the shit out of the smaller children. Not only do you accomplish your goal of ridding yourself of the crowd of kiddie-winkies, but it provides for minutes of laughing pleasure as the kids careen about, knocking the fuck out of one another.

Then you have the hilarious shit the soldiers do.

Like dog-spearing.

You see, here at Camp Marlboro, we have a problem with big ass, mean, mangy dogs. We have like 30 of em prowling around at any given time. They spread disease, growl at people, and shit all over the fuckin place.

We can't really empty our magazines into packs of feral dogs, so we spear them. We use a big pipe with an AK-47 bayonet affixed to one end. We chase the dogs and thrust spears into their vital bits in order to kill them.

It's actually an improvement over the original method devised by the medics, which is to beat the dogs to death with axe handles. That took about a half-hour.

I tried to kill a cat by hitting it with my kevlar helmet, but it was pretty fast, and I ended up merely grazing it.

Some of the other fun things we do:

Tell Iraqi children fucked up things, such as:

"My name is Buttstroke Me" (at which point they run around saying "buttstroke me, buttstroke me", which is very funny)

"His name is Bitch" (at which point they call that soldier "bitch bitch")

Sometimes we just give them a plastic bag and have them clean up the huge piles of offal and garbage that lay stinking in the torrid Iraq sun. It's like emptying the ocean with a tablespoon, but what the fuck. It's something to do.

I could go on for days describing the cartoonish buffoonery, but I won't. I have to save something for another time, I suppose.

Yes, Baghdad is not all dead bodies and warfare, sometimes it's donkeys, children, and giggles.

Have fun, and enjoy America.

Mister M
Al Thawra, Baghdad, Iraq
Camp Marlboro

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by Eric on Feb 02, 2004 | Comments(2) | TrackBack (1) | Jokes
» The Everlasting Phelps links with: Army Tomfoolery

SWG Book Review...

...I know you weenies don't come here for art and culture, but you're gonna get my two cents worth today... the subject? "Cold Mountain"... I've heard that a movie has been made with that Jude Law guy... so, am I going to review the movie? HELL NO... why? ..because I'll never watch the bastard... I was given the book as a gift two years ago... I tried to read it... TWICE I tried.. I loaned it to the Wife to read, and she couldn't finish it... I loaned it to the Mother, and SHE couldn't finish it... folks, that book was the crappiest, slowest moving, most boring piece of shit that I've ever not-fully-read... I HATE it when I don't finish books, and for that reason, I HATE "Cold Mountain" for being so damn boring.. will I watch the movie?.. nope... unless I hear that Kidman gets her knickers off.. then, maybe I'll just fast forward to the appropriate bit...

..the fact that Hollywood has made a movie out of the book just goes to prove that they are all masochists... why are they so perverted?... well, the movie will, more than likely, be a huge hit, and millions of people will run out and buy that godforsaken book.. they will do this so that they can act superior to their friends... their friends will say, "Wow! I just saw the greatest movie ever! It's called Cold Mountain".... and the poser will say, "Oh, that? Hmmm, I haven't seen the movie, but I LOVED the book!"

...so, if you ever hear that, just remember... you heard it here first... those people are LIARS..and, if anyone ever says that to you, smack'em hard, and yell at the top of your lungs, "LIARRRRR".... ladies and gentlemen, I had a dedicated panel of hardcore readers attempt to read that damn book, and we ALL failed... "Cold Mountain" is not for me..

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Texas Law...

..Texas needs to change THIS LAW... I mean, what are they afraid of? ..personally, I think all the women of Texas should embrace the "Passion Parties" with complete abandon... buy one, two, or twenty... the legislators should just butt the hell out... but, hey, that's just me...

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Savannah and Stuff...

...I40 is a beautiful drive.. the sun was shining and the sky was clear.. a gorgeous little stretch of road lies between Nashville and Knoxville, people.. seriously.. if you are ever in Tennessee, do yourself a favor... drive it..

...I got back late last night, and found an e-mail from The Bartender in my inbox... it seems that he has fixed my Trackback problem.. so, now that this is corrected, I can once again be the sociable little link pimp that I so desire to be.. with that said... here goes...

..The Acidman is planning a party in Savannah on Valentine's Day.. I am gonna try my best to be there..

..The Velociman has a tragic tale from his childhood.. I suppose we all get a wakeup call in one form or another.. some earlier than others..

..Geoffrey is packing up, and moving house... and finding that setting up a new blog is harder than you remembered.. good luck to ya, Bro..

..The Dramaqueen, a recent addition to the SWG Blogroll, is a real cutie from Oz...she tells us what she'd do if she had a million bucks... a Harley for the Hubby?... what a gal...

..for a little heavier reading, The VRWC Inc. has a wonderful essay on Gun Rights..

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