Saturday, July 15, 2017
Friday, July 14, 2017
Readng The Comments On Blog Posts Can Lead To Things Like This:
Borrowed from ACE's Place because it's worth sharing:
How many of these points can you share? So much of this sounds so familiar..... although I was
6 at the time.
"Grizzledcoastie" wrote:
438 When I was 8 during the summer back in the summer of 1968, we'd swim in the bayou, fish all day, live in the woods near my home playing guns (liberals of today would have kittens), football (no helmets or pads), basketball and baseball. We caught crawfish and our dads would boil them in a huge picnic with the corn and potatoes. We'd wave to the shrimp boats and the party boats headed to the Gulf and they'd blow their horns to us on the bank.
I never really watched a lot of TV and never had a reason to do so. I did chores, such as clipping the beautiful hedges that surrounded our parcel like a living fence and mowing the grass under our giant live oak tree with an old push mower. I started mowing the grass when I was 8 and I got an allowance
My parents had a big, screened in porch that overlooked the bayou and we'd have sleepouts on it. We'd sneak outside and look at the massive amount stars overhead.
We'd walk alone to the gas station on the corner and spend some of our allowances on classic candy and Barq's or Cokes in a glass bottle. The summers on the Gulf Coast were hot as hell, but it wasn't because of "global warming/climate change/whatever they'll call it tomorrow." It's the South. It's hot in the summer. Either you deal with it or you don't.
We'd flirt with the neighborhood girls and steal kisses and have little relationships. That's how I met my wife for the first time and we started dating in high school.
The only rules were you had to come inside for lunch and supper and playtime ended when the sun went down.
If someone got hurt, we got an adult. It was no big deal. One time, a friend of mine broke his arm and his Dad took him to the hospital, which was 24 miles away in the city. There was no nanny state going after him for "abuse." His attitude, like all of our parents, were "boys will be boys."
Vietnam was raging, but it was so distant. It wasn't until a boy from up the street died that it became a real thing for me. There were very few black kids in our town, so civil rights was also a distant thing for me.
I sold that house after my parents passed on and I do tear up when I think of it. My Dad never spoke of his time in Korea and not that I blamed him. All I knew was he had a Bronze Star that I happened on one day. I showed it to him and he gently said to put that away and never speak of it ever again. When I read the award after his death, I never realized that my Dad had the courage of a lion.
Now kids can't be kids. They have live in hermetically sealed bubbles. We wonder why there is a childhood obesity epidemic (everything to the nanny staters is an "epidemic") when we won't let kids have their independence and play as kids were meant to do. We don't let "boys be boys." We have to drug them with Ritalin so they won't leave their seats and be active. I was busy as a child, but my teachers accepted that as part of "boys being boys." You want to know why we have man buns and skinny, feminized hipsters and there's your answer right there.
We don't let them learn at their pace and by methods guaranteed to help them. And we wonder why more women are attending college, not that is a good thing since they come out propagandized by the feminist movement into hating men and delaying childbirth or not even having kids.
Our elites denigrate flyover country and blue collar workers, at least until they need a plumber to unclog their pipes or a roofer to plug holes in their leaking roof.
I'm sorry about rambling here, but there's so much in this society that makes me so depressed for the world I hand over to my children and now my grandchild. We need to continue to belittle this bunk from these perennial, freedom-hating busybodies and give our children a chance to have the rich childhoods that ultimately prepare them to be the great future citizens our nation needs them to be.
Thursday, July 13, 2017
Lego San Fran Edition.....
if you get that, then you as well have been ruined by the internets......
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
MeThinks They Spelled Her Last Name Wrong....
"O" instead of "I"
CONCORD, N.H. - A Concord, New Hampshire, woman was arrested twice in five hours Tuesday after officers said she returned to the police station to demand her drugs back that had been confiscated as evidence.
Emily Morin, 26, was charged with willful concealment and possession of a controlled drug stemming from a shoplifting incident at a Macy's Department Store.
During the encounter, police said, it was learned Morin's license and registration had been suspended. She had been released on $2,500 bail.
STORY HERE
They Actually Build Equipment For That Application?
Mountain Goat... "Hey Try This!"
Caterpillar... "Here, Hold My Beer!"
The Trump, The Deep State, The Media And The Internet.....
Push Play for the soundtrack..... This is a really good version:
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
A Rant On The Media....
The comment was posted by " The Rat Fink" over at THIS POST at IOWNTHEWORLDREPORT
Speaking of “detectives” let’s talk about Woodward and Bernstein. Spare me from these two and their phychophants in the media! With all the democRat ratfuckery going on since Watergate, surely there was ONE story they could have broken in 40 years!
Where were they during all the years of sexual misconduct as Governor of Arkasas?
Where were they during the years of Clinton criminal conduct during the 90s?
Where were they to report the Clinton body count that mysteriously stopped in 2000 and resumed again in 2016?
Where were they during the past eight years of a Taqiyah Sunrise-Drinking Marxist Muzlim Mallard intertwined with yet more Clinton criminality with our nation’s secrets?
Did they NOT have the freedom of the press to investigate the mis-use of the IRS against political enemies?
Did they NOT have the freedom of the press to investigate the use of the EPA as a weapon against industry?
And how about exposing CIA surveilence on Americans (and the Press), or the rise of terrorism on the Øbamboozler´s watch due to his arming and funding of terrorists and terrorism?
Did they NOT have the freedom of the press to call out the fact that the Øbamboozler refused use the term iSlamic Terrorism?
AWOL! That where they’ve been!
Not a peep outta them for over 40 years because they didn’t dare move the refrigerator to expose all their fellow cockroaches hiding behind it lest they be ostricized! The Media deliberately provokes and covers left wing, violent rallies and riots, carefully interviewing, showing select hand carried signs with their catchy slogans in tacit support of Anti-Christian, anti-Semitic, Globalists, Soros backed Socialist/progressive democrats, communists, racist BLM and ANTIFA radical anarchists, but they’ll trot (Trotsky) out these two old Gaslighters who can´t find any of it with both hands and a flashlight!
Detectives? Puuuuleeeeze!
Enjoy This Thought as You Sip Your Morning Covfefe.....
( this was posted in a comment thread on one of my nightly reads)
( high five to the artist)
Monday, July 10, 2017
Burial At Sea 72 Years Ago
Here's footage you'll see only once in a lifetime. Just imagine being there to witness it! Tough times, tough people!
The sailor was 23 year old Loyce Edward Deen, an Aviation Machinist Mate (Gunner) 2nd Class enlistee from Altus, Oklahoma who served in VT-15 squadron assigned to the carrier USS Essex. Loyce was a remarkable young man. Click HERE for his story.
Here's a sea burial you may not have read about: Loyce Edward Deen, an Aviation Machinist Mate 2nd Class, USNR, was a gunner on a TBM Avenger. On November 5, 1944, Deen's squadron participated in a raid on Manila where his plane was hit multiple times by anti-aircraft fire while attacking a Japanese cruiser. Deen was killed.
The Avenger's pilot, Lt. Robert Cosgrove, managed to return to his carrier, the USS Essex. Both Deen and the plane had been shot up so badly that it was decided to leave him in the plane.
It is the only time in U.S. Navy history (and probably U.S. military history) that an aviator was buried in his aircraft after being killed in action.
For the video of the funeral click http://loyceedeen.webstarts.
Thanks to Dale in Ohio
Here's footage you'll see only once in a lifetime. Just imagine being there to witness it! Tough times, tough people!
The sailor was 23 year old Loyce Edward Deen, an Aviation Machinist Mate (Gunner) 2nd Class enlistee from Altus, Oklahoma who served in VT-15 squadron assigned to the carrier USS Essex. Loyce was a remarkable young man. Click HERE for his story.
Here's a sea burial you may not have read about: Loyce Edward Deen, an Aviation Machinist Mate 2nd Class, USNR, was a gunner on a TBM Avenger. On November 5, 1944, Deen's squadron participated in a raid on Manila where his plane was hit multiple times by anti-aircraft fire while attacking a Japanese cruiser. Deen was killed.
The Avenger's pilot, Lt. Robert Cosgrove, managed to return to his carrier, the USS Essex. Both Deen and the plane had been shot up so badly that it was decided to leave him in the plane.
It is the only time in U.S. Navy history (and probably U.S. military history) that an aviator was buried in his aircraft after being killed in action.
For the video of the funeral click http://loyceedeen.webstarts.
Thanks to Dale in Ohio
George and The Dragon....
A vagabond in 18th century England, exhausted and famished, came to a roadside Inn with a sign reading: "George and the Dragon."
He knocked. The Innkeeper's wife stuck her head out a window.
"Could ye spare some victuals?" He asked.
The woman glanced at his shabby, dirty clothes. "No!" she shouted.
"Could I have a pint of ale?"
"No!" she shouted.
"Could I at least sleep in your stable?"
"No!" she shouted again.
The vagabond said, "Might I please...?"
"What now?" the woman screeched, not allowing him to finish.
"D'ye suppose," he asked, "that I might have a word with George?"
He knocked. The Innkeeper's wife stuck her head out a window.
"Could ye spare some victuals?" He asked.
The woman glanced at his shabby, dirty clothes. "No!" she shouted.
"Could I have a pint of ale?"
"No!" she shouted.
"Could I at least sleep in your stable?"
"No!" she shouted again.
The vagabond said, "Might I please...?"
"What now?" the woman screeched, not allowing him to finish.
"D'ye suppose," he asked, "that I might have a word with George?"
h't to Joseph B.
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