Soy Boy Posts Crap To MAGAWOMEN.... MAGA Woman responds... ( According to the comments he has since deleted his account)

 

 

This guy thinks he’s so smart but guess what he isn’t at all! I love this young lady that puts fact out and makes common sense! This is honestly pure gold! 😂😂😂 pic.twitter.com/NCOPO6hGCf

— Kathleen Winchell ❤️🤍💙🇺🇸🇺🇸 (@KathleenWinche3) September 6, 2024

 

 

 

 

Friday Femme Fatale Farrago.....

 

 

 

 

 

BOHICA

 White House: Congress Needs To Act On Gun Control

                                I imagine there will be more of this BS in the coming days. 

                                                                                       LINK to GOA story

 

H/T to Bob in E-town

Student Loan Forgiveness Call......

 

  This guy stayed on the call through the whole thing. The woman making the call is great!

 

 H/T to Leigh

 

 

 

 

TFIF!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Working On It...

 

 

 

 

 H/t to RK for the GIF!

 

 

 

Amazon Prime, Delivering Shit Fully Assembled and Ready For Use....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

UPDATED: Cullman County Sheriff Matt Gentry is "pissed off today" and rightly so

UPDATE: Retired Army colonel shoots robber that shot him 3 times, Cullman sheriff says

Cullman Co. Sheriff Matt Gentry said in a press conference yesterday, "I'm pissed off today. I'm pissed off that we are even having this conversation". Gentry was  commenting on a situation where a Cullman Co. citizen was the victim of an online trailer sale that turned into a robbery. The seller was a local veteran who advertised a trailer for sale online. The perp was an illegal who had been caught and released by U.S. authorities. Yet, here he was. It ended up that the seller had a gun and shot the illegal invader after he pulled a knife and attempted to rob the him. Gentry went on to praise the victim for being armed saying "that probably was the only thing that saved his life". The sheriff is right. We should not even be having this conversation, but here we are with the very government that is supposed to represent the best interests of the American people force-feeding us this nightmare. These days the caretakers of the Republic have shoved the honest, hard working, taxpaying Americans to the back of the bus and have not only allowed, but openly encouraged a foreign occupying "army" onto the American populace. What Quislings there are among us! What drives these "leaders/officials" to do this? It was bad enough when we had banditos sneaking across the border. Nowadays, and in a concerted effort and for what I do not know, millions have been and are at this time being transported by planes, trains, and automobiles to points in the U.S.  Why we sit in bars, cafes, diners, and around supper tables we all ask, "why is the government doing this to us? Never does a sensible reply or solution appear, but only sinister motives. There has been another big controversy recently with illegals, refugees, mercenaries' or whatever we decide to call these people who smile, grin, nod, and appear to not speak English in Cullman and nearby Blount counties with a forced influx of Haitians under the guise of "to work in the nearby chicken processing plants". I mean to tell you, those folks over there (Alabamians) are pissed off about that and I don't blame them. That makes about as much sense as turning a box of rattlesnakes loose in ones own bedroom and removing the lightbulb right before bedtime. This illegal invasion business has jumped the track miles down the line. I, along with millions of other Americans, share the frustrations of Sheriff Gentry. What will we do if anything? Just a few months back, there was the video out of Haiti where the guy was gnawing on a human hand with another foot and hand cooking in the nearby campfire. It is all madness. If the missionaries could not tame the Haitians in six centuries why do liberals believe they can? Who in their right mind would import such a dangerous trainwreck into their very own country? How many more senseless rapes, murders, and other deaths  of innocents in tragic auto accidents due to ignorance of driving laws and DUIs, etc. will the American people have to endure because of ________ politicians listen to the cries of their constituents who they have presently abandoned?  Why are we suffering through all of this and other forms of "induced drag" unnecessarily? How long until the American people cry out ENOUGH? I share the pain of Sheriff Gentry and thousands of other Americans across the land that deal with this root problem 24/7?  Still, the invaders press north bringing all their virtues good and/or bad. I figure it will come to a head in time. 

Read more by clicking Sheriff Gentry  Also, there is the story of the Haitians . 

UPDATE on original story

While reading this story I thought of this scene of Quantrill in the film Ride With The Devil

"I am sad boys"

Meanwhile, In Andover MA

 

 I bet they are fun a the neighborhood cookouts...

 

 

 

 

 

I bet it made more than a few Brits leery

 

You Know It's Bad Out There When Your Ladder Decides It's Had Enough...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am way more shocked they were even arrested

"If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck" it must be a duck. Linda Sun, former top aid of New York Gov. Hochul and Gov. Cumo, was arrested along with her husband on Tuesday and charged with acting on behalf of the Chinese Communist Party federal prosecutors said. Read the story by clicking COMMIES.

H/T to Bob in E-town

"A damn good Marine": Eugene Sledge (aka Sledgehammer) remembered on Victory over Japan Day (2 September 1945)

 

I learned about Eugene Sledge from a fellow gun enthusiast who pointed out that Sledge was a regular at the large Alabama Gun Collector's Assoc. shows. The same friend also told me of and recommended Eugene Sledge's book. His son continues to set up a display with diorama, memorabilia, etc. and of course offers for sale Eugene's famous book, With the Old Breed at Peleliu and Okinawa. The book, by the way, is one of the best personal accounts of a WW2 frontline combat participant in my honest opinion. For those interested, the last time I checked, there were still some interviews of E.B. Sledge on YouTube that are very much worth watching for those interested. The article in the link gets into it, but much of the material for the HBO series, Pacific, came from Sledge's book which he wrote years after the war. A lot of his recollections were written from notes he kept in his pocket New Testament where he constantly wrote many of his experiences. The Mobile native retired from teaching Biology at Montevallo University (just south of Birmingham). RIP Eugene Sledge.

Read more HERE

He's Not Wrong....

 

Steve Mudflap McGrew’s REMASCULATE podcast

@REMASCULATE

Have you noticed how the United States is starting to look like a bus station at 2 a.m.? It’s like we’re all just one missed Greyhound away from being found face down on a plastic bench with a bag of Funyuns as a pillow. People don’t care anymore—about how they look, about how they act, about basic hygiene. We’re all just one pajama-wearing Walmart trip away from complete societal collapse.

 

Remember when people used to put in the effort to look good? You look at old photos of people in public from, like, the 1950s, and everyone’s dressed like they’re on their way to a job interview at NASA. The men are in suits, hats tilted just right, like they're about to solve a mystery on a train. The women have their hair perfectly styled, lipstick on, clutching a purse like it contains the nation’s secrets. And that’s just to go grocery shopping!

 

Now? Oh, now we’re out here looking like we’re in the middle of a hostage negotiation with our closet. People are showing up to the airport in Crocs and pajama pants, like they’re expecting a four-hour delay at the gate and maybe an emotional support hamster to get them through it. You see a guy at the DMV wearing a tank top that says “I paused my game to be here,” and you’re like, “Yeah, I bet you did, buddy. I bet you did.”

 

It’s like nobody even knows what a mirror is anymore. You’ve got folks out here with hair that looks like it’s been styled by a leaf blower. And don’t get me started on the people wearing sunglasses indoors at night. What are you hiding from? The fluorescent lighting? Reality?

 

Let’s be honest, we’re all living in the ‘People of Walmart’ slideshow now. And it’s not just how we look; it’s how we act! People used to say “good morning” or at least grunt in your general direction. Now, you get on a bus, and it’s a collection of feral stares and people making TikToks like it’s a confessional booth at a dive bar.

 

It’s like the collective standard of public decorum has fallen so far that if you’re just wearing clothes that aren’t stained, you’re practically a Rockefeller. There used to be a time when people took pride in their appearance, where leaving the house in sweatpants was a cry for help, not a fashion statement. Now, wearing jeans is considered “dressed up.”

 

The United States in 2024: where the dress code is “Please just have something on,” and the only rule is “No shirt, no shoes, no problem.” We’re all just one Netflix binge away from showing up to work in a bathrobe and calling it “business casual.”

Gold Star Father Addresses Kamala...

 

 

 

Everyone should stop what they’re doing and listen and share this.

pic.twitter.com/Aw0zunyPJY

— Catturd ™ (@catturd2) September 1, 2024

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Random Sprinkling of Assorted Stuffs...

 

 

 

 

 

A Tale Of The Feral Irishman....

 

 Submitted by Skip, a friend of this blog....

 

In the rugged hills of New England, amidst the cacophony of clanking machinery and the occasional explosion from a particularly stubborn steam engine, lived a man known far and wide as John the Feral Irishman. John, whose real name was John O’Malley, had earned his moniker not for any lack of civility, but for his wild hair, unkempt beard, and his tendency to pop up unexpectedly from behind piles of scrap metal with a loud, “Top o’ the mornin’!”

John was an accomplished ironworker with a reputation for being both fiercely independent and somewhat of a troublemaker. His idea of fun involved setting off fireworks in the factory’s scrap yard, which he had cleverly nicknamed “The Bang Zone.”

One particularly sweltering September day in 1884, after a particularly grueling week of riveting steel beams and dealing with a temperamental blast furnace named Betsy, John found himself feeling exceptionally fed up. The factory’s incessant clamor and the sheer monotony of work had taken its toll. As he wiped sweat from his brow with a rag that had seen better days, John muttered to himself, “There’s got to be a better way to spend a day than this.”

It was then that his old friend, Mike Mulligan, a foreman with a penchant for storytelling and a surprisingly loud laugh, strolled by. Mike, ever the gossip, was regaling anyone who’d listen with tales of his weekend adventures—which usually involved him napping on his porch with a newspaper over his face.

“Mike, do you ever think about how we work our tails off and never get a break?” John grumbled. “I reckon we need a day where we can put our feet up, maybe have a pint, and not worry about Betsy blowing up!”

Mike looked at John, eyes twinkling with mischief. “That’s a grand idea, John. But what would we call it? ‘National Don’t Work Day’?”

John scratched his chin thoughtfully. “How ‘bout we call it Labor Day? Sounds fancy and official, doesn’t it?”

The idea struck John with the force of a steam hammer. He decided to take matters into his own hands, quite literally. John marched down to the local tavern, where he began enthusiastically recruiting fellow workers for a grand celebration of their laborious lives. “Lads and lasses!” he announced with the flair of a circus ringmaster. “We’re having a day off, and it’s going to be legendary!”

John’s idea quickly evolved from a spontaneous pub proclamation into a full-blown celebration. He rallied the local tradespeople, factory workers, and even a few bemused shopkeepers into organizing what he called “The Grand Labor Extravaganza.” His plans were as grand as they were absurd.

The centerpiece of the celebration was John’s homemade “Float of Freedom,” a ramshackle wooden creation adorned with a statue of Betsy the Blast Furnace (which looked more like a top-heavy scarecrow) and festooned with an assortment of fireworks and old work tools. The float, guided by a team of horses that seemed vaguely confused by the whole affair, led the parade.

The parade itself was a marvelous spectacle of chaos. The route was lined with workers who cheered, danced, and in some cases, took turns trying to outdo one another with impromptu speeches about the virtues of labor and the joys of a day off.

John’s grand finale was the “Great Labor Day Feast,” which featured a variety of questionable culinary delights, including something he dubbed “Ironworker Stew”—a thick concoction that included everything from carrots to suspiciously large chunks of something that looked like it might have been a piece of old machinery.

The festivities ended with John setting off an elaborate display of fireworks that included more than a few unintended explosions. One particularly dramatic firework went rogue, zipping through the crowd and causing a comical scramble. John, ever the showman, took it all in stride, giving an enthusiastic speech from atop a stack of barrels as the crowd roared with laughter.

By the end of the day, the workers of New England were convinced that John the Feral Irishman had stumbled upon something truly special. They had a day of rest, revelry, and the sort of stories that would be recounted for years to come.

When word of John’s outlandish celebration spread, it resonated with workers across the country. The idea of taking a day to honor their hard work and enjoy a break from the relentless grind caught on like wildfire. In 1894, Labor Day was officially recognized as a national holiday.

As for John, he continued to work at the factory, but with a new sense of purpose and a great story to tell. Every year, on Labor Day, he would gather with friends and family to reminisce about that first grand celebration and toasting to the day that began with a fed-up ironworker and ended with a nationwide holiday.

And so, Labor Day was born, forever celebrating the spirit of hard work and the joy of taking a well-deserved break, thanks to the wit and whimsy of one very fed-up Irishman.