(Let's get this out of the way NOW): This is a blog of opinions (mine), observations (also mine) and ideas (you got it, mine!).
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Names may or may not be changed to protect the ignorant, depending upon my mood at the time.
I am an adult and I use adult language. If this offends you, don't read my fucking blog.
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I decided to go into the confessional box after years being away from the Church. I pulled aside the curtain, entered and sat down. To my surprise there was a fully equipped bar with crystal glasses, the best vestry wine, Miller High Life on tap, cigars and liqueur chocolates nearby, and on the wall a fine photographic display of buxom ladies who appear to have mislaid their garments.
I heard the priest come in: “Father, forgive me for it's been a very long time since I've been to confession and I must admit that the confessional box is much more inviting than it used to be".
The priest replied..."Get out, you idiot. You're on my side".
You know they say a picture is worth a thousand words. No, I don’t who “they” are. Anyway, if that’s true, I wonder how many words a facial expression is worth.
The 2nd time in just a few minutes that I had to step out the backdoor to tell our foster dog (my son’s dog that we’ve been housing for a year) to shut up, I realize most other dogs in the neighborhood were barking. Not unusual, as we have a group of teenagers who routinely ride razors (thought those went out of style in the ‘90’s about the time grunge died) down our street and into the park across from our house. So, I figure that’s what he’s barking about and go back inside.
Not long after, he starts barking again. Enough is enough. I go out the back door and instead of sheepishly giving me his sideways glance and walking back the other way, he is still barking with his leash pulled taut and looking at the front of the house. So, I go down the steps and walk toward him, telling him to shut up and just as I reach him, a man and woman are coming off the front porch. Good dog.
They greet me and I return the greeting and somewhat shortly ask “What can do for you?” I notice they are carrying identical books, presumably whatever their version of the “good book” happens to be.
The man starts saying something about visiting their friends and neighbors…blah, blah, blah… How odd, I don’t know them so, they aren’t friends; and I don’t recall ever seeing them before so, doubtful they are neighbors. Though I don’t know the names of many of my neighbors, I would recognize most of them.
At this point, I merely tightened my lips and rolled my eyes while moving my head slowly from side to side.
Well, without saying a word (or releasing the dog), I obviously got my point across. Because this young gentleman stopped mid-sentence, and said “O.K., well, have a nice day” and they walked away.
When I went back into the house, I told Mrs. Dan O that I should post a sign on our front door that says: “I was blessed by the Pope 30 years ago in Vatican Square. (true) If that didn’t help me, you sure can’t!”
So the Ass-Clown-in-Chief is now saying Sgtraitor Bergdahl is "somebody's child". Really Barry? Child ?!?!
NO, pResident Numbfuck, he is a 28 year old MAN. Who at the age of 23, also an age one should be considered a man ( something I've never thought of calling you by the way. at least not without adjectives attached), walked away from his assigned military post and (allegedly) into the hands of the enemy. And then 5 years later, when he got a tummy ache and missed his mommy and daddy ill, was used as a willing pawn to free 5 top enemy commanders. A child. Fuck you, Barry.
Sue Martin of Bergdahl's hometown and a friend of his family said (I'm paraphrasing, accurately) it was ironic that Bergdahl voluntarily served in the U.S. Army fighting for our freedoms and is now being criticized by those using the freedom of speech.
You conveniently left out the part that he also VOLUNTARILY left his fucking post and at the least deserted, if not defected. But, that's just a minor thing to folks like you, I suppose. At least he's coming home now, right? No honor. No patriotism. But damn it, he's home.
So, how long before we find out Sgt. Bergdahl was complicit in his own "release" in trade for 5 of the most dangerous terrorists held a Gitmo?
Far fetched? I don't believe so.
Prove to me he isn't a Taliban/Al qaeda sympathizer, whether due to Stockholm Syndrome or already-held personal beliefs when he deserted was "captured" and at least a willing participant in the plan to trade his freedom for 5 terrorists who will no doubt return to their life-long pursuit of killing as many non-goat-fucking heathen infidels.
If he truly was captured and is now free to return home and lives his life as a true American, then "Welcome home soldier". But, if he is merely a distraction so that the Taliban can restrengthen it's terror network, then "Fuck you, trader."
I don't remember the last time I posted. Just not in the mood I reckon.
The state of the country is still in peril as long as Obama and the rest of his misguided, incapable and unqualified misfits are in charge of things. And I have little to no confidence in the citizenry to make the necessary decisions to elect the appropriate people to change the course. Same old fucking idiots still think there is nothing wrong and the apathetic and/or uninformed will still not vote to appropriately defeat the status-quo.
I will continue to cast my vote every election day, despite my pessimistic realistic expectation of the ignorant electorate to not vote appropriately to steer things in the correct direction, and still wish to be proven wrong in my dire straits assumptions.
How there can be such obvious ignorance in how incompetent the current administration is at performing any of it's even perfunctory duties is beyond my comprehension.
I am a U.S. Citizen by birth.
I have been a husband to the same woman since 1984.
I am the father of 2 sons.
I am a U.S. Navy veteran (1980-86)
I was a volunteer Firefighter for 19 years.
I know what I like and what I don't. I know what I believe and what I don't. Here is where I may or may not write about it.
A Com-Post is where I use what was to be a comment on someone else's blog and it ended up being long enough for a post on my own blog. Why waste my witty, insightful prose on someone else's blog, when mine is in such need of content? Full linkage and credit to original Blog and Post are always included.