November 19, 2007

Hillary’s Dog.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 9:06 pm

dallmatian1.jpgPRS Operatives have learned that Hillary has a dog. This struck us as strange, because Mrs. Clinton just never struck us as much of a “dog person” any more than she is a “people person,” despite her best campaigning efforts to appear to be the latter.

True to form, PRS Operatives have managed to gain access to the Hillary Pooch and even got the chance to get an interview. Interview? Absolutely. We used a variant of Wooftalk translation software, which we believe has been extensively used here.

PRS: Thanks so much for taking the time to talk with us today.

Dog: You’re welcome.

PRS: So, I see that you’re a Dalmatian.

Dog: Yeah. What tipped you off? Must have been the spots.

PRS: I’m sorry; I was just trying to be friendly. Of course, you’re a Dalmatian.

Dog: No need to apologize. Maybe I should apologize. I get cranky sometimes.

PRS: Do you know how is it that Hillary happened to choose a Dalmatian?

Dog: Well, her campaign handlers said that it would be a good idea, PR-wise, for her to have a dog. You know, make her more human and all that crap. So, the question of what kind of dog she should get was put before a focus group.

PRS: That question was put before a focus group? Seems like a strange thing to ask a focus group.

Dog: Are you kidding me? That woman doesn’t do a goddamned thing in public that isn’t first tested in a focus group. Remember that bullshit southern accent? Focus group, and they sure screwed that one up, didn’t they! OK, so anyway, the “What kind of dog should Hillary have?” question was put to a focus group. The results showed that a white dog was unacceptable, as was a black one. Some kind of a race thing. They concluded that the dog should be both black and white, and they suggested a Dalmatian.

PRS: Interesting. How is it that you, in particular, were chosen? Were you purchased from a breeder, because to my untrained eye, you appear to be a pure breed?

Dog: Nope. Her handlers found me locked up at a local pound (the focus group insisted that Hillary’s dog must come from a pound, not from a breeder and definitely not from a pet store).

PRS: How did you end up in a pound?

Dog: Sad story. I was a firehouse dog for a couple years. Man, what a great gig that was. Terrific food and plenty of it. I had lots of human companionship. It was super.

PRS: What happened?

Dog: Stupid me. I managed to get a sassy little Irish Setter in trouble. No one was the wiser until the puppies came out looking really strange and all spotty and shit. Off to the pound I went. I spent a few weeks there, and then Hillary’s people came to the pound looking for a Dalmatian. They were cooing about the seriously important and seriously smart woman I would be living with. Damn, I figured that I had hit the lottery! I was happy as hell when they brought me to her place.

PRS: By the way, how long have you been living with Hillary?

Dog: Three or four months; I’ve lost track.

PRS: How is it working out for you? Living with Hillary.

Dog: Man, this gig really stinks – big time! You have no idea.

PRS: How so? You look healthy, so I assume she is feeding you well.

Dog: Hardly. All I ever get from her is fast food wrappers. And, man, she sure generates a shitload of them. I’m supposed to survive by licking the damned wrappers. Like a dog can survive on a smattering of ketchup and a slather of melted cheese. If it wasn’t for one of the guys on her Secret Service detail who brings me good stuff to eat every day, I’d look like one of those pitiful dogs on the ASPCA posters that you see in convenience stores.

PRS: That’s awful. Maybe she is just very busy and forgets to feed you.

Dog: Bullshit. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want to bother with me and that I’m here strictly for public relations purposes. I tried to make friends with her a couple times. You know, running up to her all happy face and bouncing around as she walks in the door, but each time I tried, she kicked me and said, “Will SOMEBODY get this goddamned mutt away from me.” Also, whenever she is in a bad mood, I can count on her throwing stuff at me. Hit me with a lamp once. I hear she has a pattern of doing that.

PRS: She kicks you and throws stuff at you? How many times will you let her do that before you take a bite out of her?

Dog: Dude, you gotta be kidding me. You never heard of Arkancide? Remember the dog that she and her husband had in Chappaqua? They said he was run over by a car? You think I believe that shit?

PRS: Can you recall a time when she treated you the worst?

Dog: Hell, yeah. It was a couple weeks ago during that debate when she screwed up the question about the drivers licenses. She had left the TV on at home, so I watched it. When she screwed up those questions, I laughed so hard I shit. I mean I really shit. Messed up the living room floor real bad. I couldn’t help myself.

PRS: So, what happened?

Dog: When she finally arrived home, half in the bag, and saw the mess, she really kicked hell out of me. All the while she was kicking me, she was screaming something about “that sonofabitch Russert.” It went on for at least an hour. I was sore for days.

PRS: That’s horrible.

Dog: Dude, “Horrible” is an understatement. Believe you, me.

PRS: Does she ever have guests over, and, if so, how does she treat you on those occasions?

Dog: Yeah, she has guests from time to time, and she pretends to like me. She pets me in front of them and says shit like, “Meet Spot. Isn’t he cute?”

PRS: “Spot?” Not very original is it?

Dog: Focus Group; what can I tell you? When I was at the firehouse my name was Rex – an ass kicking name, no? The focus group hated it. Too aggressive.

PRS: Sorry. I interrupted you. You were talking about her guests.

Dog: Yeah, her guests. Things sometimes get really wild when she has certain guests over. Lots of booze and smoking, and it ain’t tobacco, if you catch my drift. Lots of government types and an occasional visit by well-built man named Sven. On each occasion, I’ve seen her give him money as he is leaving. Some weird shit goes on with Sven, let me tell you.

PRS: Does anyone other than Sven stand out in your mind?

Dog: Absolutely, it’s her friend – the one she calls “Pearl,” who is always going about being the SPEAKER in the House or some shit. When she shows up, things get really crazy. You just never know what to expect.

PRS: Such as?

Dog: OK, the last time that “Pearl” was here, the two of them must have drunk a case of Cristal and smoked what looked like a half a pound of what they described as “some really kickass herb.” They were laughing and dancing around half-naked to Pearl’s Grateful Dead albums. It was quite disgusting to see. But, it got worse.

PRS: Worse? How so?

Dog: Well, after they danced all over the place saying shit like, “Power to the People!” The watched a couple midget wrestling DVD’s. I think Pearl brought them over too. Then it got even worse.

PRS: Really? What happened?

Dog: After the midget wrestling thing, they both put on dog costumes.

PRS: You’re shitting me.

Dog: No way. They really did. They put on dog costumes and started barking and growling and wrestling with each other on the floor. Then, after they both looked real tired, they stayed on the floor on all fours, and they each turned their heads toward me, batted their eyes and gave me that “come hither” look.

PRS: Holy crap! Are you saying that they wanted you to …?

Dog: Look, I’m not sure what they wanted, but all I know is that I was scared shitless, just thinking about it.

PRS: So, what did you do?

Dog: I pretended to have a seizure. I think I scared them. They took off their dog costumes and called a Secret Service guy in to take me to a vet, where I was shot full of drugs that sent me into doggie La-La Land. I was shuffling around here half stupid for days.

PRS: Christ, that’s horrible. Is there something I can do to get you out of here?

Dog: I doubt it.

PRS: Waddya say I call PETA?

Dog: Are you shitting me? Those crazy bastards are big supporters of hers.

PRS: Hell, I’ll just write her telling her that I know about the way she has abused you.

Dog: I wouldn’t do that, Bro.

PRS: Why not?

Dog: Arkancide. Listen, I gotta go. She’s due back, and if she learns about this, she’ll make that Michael Vick guy look like goddamned Mister Rogers.

PRS: OK. I’ll stay in touch.

Dog: Yeah, you do that, Bro.

November 18, 2007

Real Old Local Color.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 12:33 pm

This for peeps who lived in Newark, or in its immediate environs, as they say, “back in the day.” I was born in Newark (“Down Neck”) and grew up in a town that was a walk or bike ride away. It was often the center of family activities, as my grandmother (“Granny”), grandfather, aunts, uncles and several cousins (including Cousin Jack) continued to live “Down Neck.”

It was lifted (with a tweak or two) from the “Newark Memories” website, specifically from a piece called “You might be from Newark, if you …” by Barbara Vitale Bihus, which was sent to me by my pal, PITA. There is a treasure trove of information and memories at “Newark Memories,” including an excellent remembrance of the 1967 Newark riots, written by Cousin Jack.

Anyway, on with the show. My comments are in parentheses.

You might be from Newark, if you …

1. Have eaten at Jimmy Buff’s and loved it. (We were partial to the Italian hot dogs from a place on Ferry Street, near Jackson Street, a place with perpetually greasy windows.)

2. Shopped at Bamberger’s, Klein’s, Orbach’s, Kresge’s and Hahne’s. (Yep)

3. Went “down the shore” on your summer vacation. (Everyone did.)

4. Went “up the lake” on Sunday afternoons. (Yep, with several coolers and lots of charcoal.)

5. Have to the “feast” at least once in your childhood. (No, but do trips to the Polish Falcons Polanka count?)

6. Know where Olympic Park was. (For a time, it was my most favorite place on earth.)

7. Went to Rye Beach, or Palisades Park or Bear Mountain on your grammar school class trip. (Rye Beach and Palisades, yes, but not on class trips. I recall having been dragged to the United Nations building and herded to the Newark Museum for class trips.)

8. Wanted to be a Rockette (if you’re a girl). (My legs are too short, and, anyway, I would not have passed the physical.)

9. Wanted to be an outfielder for the New York Yankees (if you’re a boy). (Absolutely, Mickey Mantle, unless you were a Giants or *gasp* a Brooklyn Dodgers fan, in which case you wanted to be Willie Mays or Duke Snider, respectively.)

10. Knew at least one person who knew Connie Francis. (Yep. Mrs. Parkway’s uncle used to bounce Connie on his knee when she was a wee one.)

11. Knew at least one person who knew one member of the Four Seasons. (Yep)

12. Knew at least one person who knew Frank Sinatra. (No, but I know legions of peeps who worship him.)

13. Knew at least one person that didn’t know Jerry Lewis. (I don’t know anyone who knew him.)

14. Thought South Orange was in the mountains. (Yep, until I saw the Rockies and the Alps.)

15. Know what a “Ting-A-Ling” hot dog was. (Ya got me with that one.)

16. Never went through a summer without real lemon ice. (Absolutely. Adams Street, Down Neck – the real item.)

17. Were never allowed to go to the City Pools because you might get polio. (I remember it well. My friend two houses away contracted polio.)

18. Always went shopping downtown. (Yes, unless you lived Down Neck, in which case you went “uptown.”)

19. Knew where to find fresh mozzarella and home-made raviolis and sausage. (Yep)

20. Think Branch Brook Park and Sacred Heart Cathedral are the eighth and ninth Wonders of the World. (Sacred Heart – home of the mondo carillon.)

21. Realize that it takes good water to make great beer. (There were lots of breweries; most gone now.)

22. Consider anything east of Route 1; south of the airport; north of Bloomfield Avenue and west of the Parkway are not really in New Jersey. (Yep)

23. Remember the Ragman, the Iceman, The Bleachman, The Tripeman, the Beerman and the Good Humor Man. (I remember the Ragman, the Iceman and the Good Humor Man, and I know people who speak of the Bleachman. Never heard of the Tripeman, but if he was hawking tripe, I probably didn’t pay much attention.)

24. Still wish you could shop in the dime store on Springfield Avenue. (Ha! Nothing costs a dime now, and a flak jacket is recommended shopping on Springfield Avenue.)

25. Know that Breyer’s made the best ice-cream. (My mother worked there for a while. She actually hand-dunked the vanilla ice cream on a stick to make “chocolate-covereds.”)

26. Know that Ballantine made the best beer. (The best ale, for sure.)

27. Know that Tastee made the best bread. (For peanut butter and jelly, anyway.)

28. Know that Hoffman made the best soda. (Cream was my favorite.)

29. Know that Prudential made the best insurance. (Provided lots of jobs for peeps I knew.)

30. Know that the Italians lived in the North Ward; if you were Jewish, you lived in the Weequahic section; the Polish lived “down neck” and the Irish lived in Vailsburg. (Yep)

31. Can remember the finest hotels in the world were on Broad Street; the Robert Treat and the Military Park Hotel. (Yep. Park Records and the Dingleman – greatest donuts ever – were near the Military Park Hotel.)

32. Know that the poor people lived in Stephen Crane Village. (We knew those kinds of places as “The Projects.”)

33. Knew that only people on welfare went to City Hospital; everyone else went to Saint Michael’s; Saint Barnabus, and Presbyterian. (Born in St. Michael’s)

34. Are aware that there was a reservoir on South Orange Avenue. (Yep, and some peeps called it the “REZ-ah-voy.”)

35. Know what a “stoop” is. (Absolutely, and we also knew what “stoop ball” is.)

36. Think that the Adams Theater on Branford Place is bigger and better than Radio City Music Hall. (I saw the “Rolling Stones” live in, I believe, 1963 at the Adams.)

37. Think The Newark News was the world’s greatest newspaper. (We were always Newark Star Ledger peeps.)

38. Remember the Thanksgiving Day rivalries between Irvington and West Side, and Barringer And East Orange. (By the time I was old enough to pay attention to football, it was Kearny vs. Nutley – Kearny usually lost.)

39. Know that the building with Abe Lincoln sitting outside is really the Hall of Records. (Yep, not the courthouse.)

40. Don’t think of citrus when people mention “the Oranges”. (Yep, and they included the plain as well as the East, West and South variaties.)

41. Ordered a hard roll with butter for breakfast. (Still do.)

42. Remember that the “Two Guys” were from Harrison. (Yep. My mother knew one of them. His name was “Herb.” They started out in a trailer outside of the RCA plant in Harrison. My mother always called “Two Guys” “Herb’s” even when they wound up having gigantic department stores.)

43. Know what a jug handle is. (Absolutely – Get in the right lane if one is coming up.)

44. Know that ours is the only “New” State that doesn’t require the “New” (like try…Mexico, York, Hampshire; it doesn’t work.) (Yep)

45. Consider a corned beef sandwich with lettuce and mayo a sacrilege. (Or eaten on anything other than kickass rye should be a crime.)

46. Eaten a boardwalk cheese steak with vinegar fries. (Yep, and I’d include a “sausage, pepper and onion” [sandwich] as well.)

47. Never pumped your own gas. (New Jersey’s one undeniably good thing.)

48. Know where “Down Neck” is. (Born there.)

49. Know where the Bath House on Clifton Ave. is. (No, but I know where the Wilson Ave. Bath House used to be.)

AND FINALLY

50. Can actually remember when Newark was….GREAT!!!

November 17, 2007

Local Color.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 3:33 pm

This sure screwed up Friday night rush hour traffic around these parts.

Escaped mental patient, knife, baseball bat, SWAT guys and flash-bangs … oh my.

November 16, 2007

I Got Yer Cultcha Right Heah!

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 6:01 pm

No blogging for me tonight. I’m going to the thee-ah-tah.

November 15, 2007

Let the Post-Election Screwing Begin!

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 8:43 pm

In the week or so since the election, the rat bastards in Trenton have shown the agenda that they played close to the vest until the election was over, lest they arouse the sleeping electorate, which, once properly informed just might have sent their miserable asses packing.

Since the election we have been treated to the following:

1.The Death Penalty. Just a few days after the general election in the state, the average newspaper-reading Joe in Jersey learned that the [democrat] Assembly will vote on doing away with New Jersey’s death penalty. Sure, if you’re a political junkie who is seriously plugged in to what is going on in Trenton on any given day, you might have seen this coming, but for those who get their news from the newspapers and the television, this was quite a shocker.

As a practical matter, the legislative rescission of the death penalty is irrelevant, because New Jersey hasn’t executed anyone since 1963, nine years before then-existing death penalty laws were struck down by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1972.

In 1982, New Jersey reinstated the death penalty by revising its statute to pass muster under the 1972 United States Supreme Court decision. The Legislature probably should not have wasted its time fixing the statute, because the New Jersey Supreme Court has never missed an opportunity to read the law in a manner that would keep the most brutal murderers (often of police officers) alive. Now, we have a Governor who has opposed the death penalty for many years and continues to do so.

As such, the death penalty in New Jersey is toast and it will become so while the voters sit home and watch Oprah.

2. The Stem Cell Baloney. I wrote about it here. The incumbents figured that their Stem Cell Bond Referendum (authorizing $450 million in yet more borrowing) would pass. After all, the sheeple in New Jersey hadn’t said “No” to a bond issue in some 17 years. Well, as we know, the bond issue was flatly rejected by the thirty percent of voters who bothered to show up at the polls. Only after the election did we learn that the $450 million was really intended to pay the expenses of running the FOUR stem cell research facilities that the state had already planned to build with $270 million more in borrowed money that the voters didn’t get to vote on.

Look, if voters nixed $450 million in borrowing, they sure as shit would have nixed an honestly worded referendum that would have sought authorization to borrow $720 million ($450 million + $270 million=$720 million).

It now appears that at least three of the facilities may not be built, due to the lack of funds to run them. The fourth facility will likely be built, using the excess from the $270 million to run the facility. “Excess?” Please. Not in Jersey. Ever.

3. The Sale/Lease of the Garden State Parkway and the New Jersey Turnpike. Governor Corzine has been hinting at this “Asset Monetization Plan” for months, but he and his cronies in the legislature made sure to keep it relatively quiet until after the election. Now, he and they are ready to rock. Under this “plan” the state would sell or lease our main highways to a third party (although the type of third party remains a mystery) for a large chunk of front money, which will be used to “reduce the cost of debt service” (a fancy way of saying “reduce the interest the state has to pay on previously BORROWED money), and presumably reap the benefits from increased tolls (I think, anyway).

The Governor is so enamored of this “plan” that he is “prepared to lose his job” getting it passed. (Check out the comments to the linked post to see how this horseshit is being received).

I have done my damndest to understand how this “plan” will work to the advantage of New Jersey’s citizens, but for the life of me, I don’t see it. That’s largely because the Governor has not shared any of the details of his “plan.” I urge Jersey peeps to check out THIS SITE for more information on this subject, and if you can make sense of how the “plan” will benefit the citizens of Jersey, please let me know. Seriously.

While each of the foregoing schemes is enough to make one’s hair hurt, what really frosts my stindeens is the calculated effort on the part of the incumbents to wait until after the election was over to pull this crap. (Notably, I didn’t hear incumbent Republicans squawking about any of this prior to the election.) No, the incumbent rats in Trenton knew goddamned well that these issues would have caught the attention of the electorate and that electorate would have demanded that they take *gasp* a position on these very issues.

Of course we all know that having to take a position on a hot issue is absolutely toxic to political rats.

November 14, 2007

Blank Page.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 8:33 pm

Seeing as how I sat down in this chair with absolutely nothing to say, I thought I would allow five or ten minutes for some free-ranging nonsense.

Hannah Montana? WTF? (The “W” stands for “What?” and for “Who?”) Never heard of her and, all of a sudden, I feel like the only person on earth who doesn’t know who Hannah Montana is. She must be a big deal, because a woman is trying to drum up interest in filing a class action lawsuit against anyone who had anything to do with ticket sales to Hannah Montana’s concerts. The good news is that I know that she is not related to Dax.

I heard on the news this morning that the Port Authority (a government eitity comprised of peeps from New York and New Jersey to handle stuff like bridges, tunnels, airports and other “interstate” things) has decided to raise the tolls on the tunnels and bridges that connect New Jersey and New York City from six bucks to eight bucks. That’s a thirty-three percent increase. Don’t you wish you were the government? If you decided you needed more money to get along, you could just give yourself a thirty-three percent raise.

When I was a boy, I was a voracious reader of “Superman” comic books. Even before the era of politically correctness, Superman, who could have destroyed the entire planet in a heartbeat, didn’t kill bad guys. Instead, he would fling them into the Phantom Zone, which was a place in another dimension filled with the shitballs of the world and from which they could never, ever return to earth. I sure wish there was such a thing as the Phantom Zone. OJ, Jane Fonda, Hillary, Bill, Al Sharpton and a host of others come immediately to mind. Hell, if I didn’t allow myself so little time to write this, I could probably come up with a Phantom Zone List that would rival the Manhattan Phone Directory in size.

This morning on the way to work, I passed a 1951 Pontiac sedan in perfect condition. I had an uncle who had one of those. Sweet. The one I saw is probably worth a bundle now.

Time’s up.

Note: I had to add on a couple minutes to dig out some links. You’re farookin’ welcome.

November 13, 2007

Bloggers Unite!

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 8:02 pm

strike-mess.jpgThe screenwriters have been on strike for a couple weeks, and now it appears that some news writers may also strike. Hell, even the Broadway stagehands have walked off the job, thereby screwing the peeps, especially tourists, who bought show tickets months ago and flew the family into New York to see “Jersey Boys.”

I thinking that maybe bloggers ought to consider going on strike too. After all, we write stuff, don’t we?

Here are some suggested demands (A strike isn’t worth beans without demands):

1. Hours. The hours are terrible. Many bloggers write into the wee hours of the morning, often after having worked all day and dealt with a full plate of Life 101. Some write early in the morning or in small bits at permitted times during the day. This saps our spirit and our creativity. We should demand regular and civilized hours!

2. Working Conditions. Have you ever seen photos of the squalor in which some bloggers write? Empty soda/beer cans, fast food, candy and snack wrappers, papers strewn all over the place and overloaded ash trays. Bloggers are hassled by pets, spouses and kids. You know damned well what I mean. “When are you going to get away from that damned computer? Blah blah blah.” We should demand a clean and tidy place to blog, free from disturbances of any kind.

3. More Recognition. Face it. Ninety percent of the people in the United States don’t know what a blog is and don’t care to know what a blog is. Of the ten percent who know what a blog is, 90% don’t read or give two shits about blogs. We could all be “contendas.” We should demand recognition and respect, dammit (Think Fredo in “Godfather II”).

4. Spam. Who among us hasn’t been tortured from time to time by the dreaded, lower-than-pond-scum spammer? Why should we tolerate this? We have our goddamned rights. It’s time we should demand that spammers be summarily executed.

5. Compensation. The pay really stinks. In fact, it stinks so bad that illegal immigrants want no part of the gig. We should demand a regular infusion of a bunch of moolah as compensation for our daily pearls of wisdom.

I know you’re thinking, ”Yo, Jimbo, I agree that we ought to demand all these things, but to whom should we make our demands?”

DUH!! I can’t believe you’d have to ask. Obviously, George Bush. He’s responsible for hurricanes, hiccups, carbuncles, war, traffic jams, airplane crashes, body odor, famine, pestilence, death, destruction and most forms of tooth decay.

I SAY WE STRIKE!!!

November 12, 2007

The Height of Political Arrogance.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 5:31 pm

Remember just last week when New Jersey’s voters defeated a bond issue that would have permitted the nearly-bankrupt state to borrow $450 million for stem cell research? Surely you remember it. It was in all the papers.

Paul Mulshine reports in his article entitled “Stem Cell Switcheroo” that, despite strong voter opposition, the Governor and the State Legislature intend to go ahead with the construction of stem cell research facilities at a cost of $270 million. How can this be? The voters vote against this just last week?

Turns out, we’ve been had yet again.

Paul Mulshine states:

Wasn’t the vote Tuesday a simple, yes-or-no question on whether the stem-cell institute should be built? Nope. When you read the fine print [***] on that ballot measure, you find that it was not designed to raise money for the construction. The borrowing was for the institute’s operating expenses over the next 10 years.

The $270 million for construction is slated to come out of a different bonding measure, one that you never got to vote on. The Corzine administration plans to pay for the buildings with so-called “contract debt,” debt cleverly structured in such a way that it does not need voter approval.

Well, isn’t that just terrific. It turns out that when the majority of voters voted NO on that question, they were only voting on borrowing money to cover the expenses of funding research projects at research facilities that were going to be built anyway with $270 million of borrowed money – money that was borrowed without having to seek voter approval.

Of course, this begs the question of just how the research will be funded in these spiffy new stem cell research buildings. Hang on to your wallet!

Just one more reason for people to vote with their feet to escape this political hell hole.

*** Here is the exact wording of the ballot measure:

Shall the “New Jersey Stem Cell Research Bond Act,” which authorizes the State to issue bonds in the amount of $450 million for grants to fund “stem cell research projects,” as defined in the act, at institutions of higher education and other entities in the State conducting scientific and medical research, and providing the ways and means to pay the interest on the debt and also to pay and discharge the principal thereof, provided that recurring revenues of the State are certified by the State Treasurer to be available in an amount equal to the sum necessary to satisfy the annual debt service obligations related to such bonds, be approved?

The whole thing makes me sick.

November 11, 2007

Veterans Day 2007.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 11:34 am

color-guard-joint-svc.jpg

Veterans all have stories to tell, ranging the absolutely horrifying to the downright hilarious. If a vet wants to tell you a story, do the vet a favor and listen. You may learn something about the vet, something about history that often goes unwritten, and you may even learn something about yourself.

I wish all my brothers and sisters who’ve worn the uniform a Happy Veterans Day.

November 10, 2007

What’s the Most Important Issue for Voters in 2008?

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 12:33 pm


Poll: Bullshit Is Most Important Issue For 2008 Voters

via C&S

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