President Bush and the Republicans spent way, way, way too much money, but when it comes to spending, they were bush leaguers — pun intended — compared to President Obama and the Democrats.
HAHAHAHAHA, we’re was the foaming mouth press when Sub Capt Teddy K. put the SS Buick in the drink with Mary Jo K. Cpt. T was so distraught he spent 8 hours in motel room before calling the cops to see if MJK held her breath. Low and behold Cpt. T got a slap on the wrist. Cpt. T showed great and compassionate concern over MJK. However, Cheney worried about his friend that he just shot accidently, did not call David Gregory before calling the doctor. And the hypocritical MSM foams on like rabid dogs.
We used to put tin pans on our heads and have bb gun fights.
The #1 rule was no aiming at the head. If at any time during a battle if you heard a “ping” on your head the battle was over or one of my bros would be kicked out for bad shootin’. Ya see we were acurate at a very young age. We always hit where we were aiming or we were shamed.
Have you ever been hit by a bb? Or worse shot from a real shotgun?
Mrs. Singleton had shotgun with rocksalt in the shells. She said we’d git a pantsfull iffin we didnt stop by the house and ask. We’d drink goats milk and the lady let us hunt the whole ranch.
I’ve been sprayed with shotgun bb’s and it ain’t fun. Shit happens.
But when it happens to some one you have a life with it becomes personal.
I believe our vice president feels the same remorse and convictions you or I would have under the circumstances. We all pray that Harry has a full recovery and them two can sit around a fire and jab eachother about it.
All the critisisum from the “left out MSM” is pure honey for most in this country beacuse they are so under the microscope……..and the picture is “fuzzy” to say the least. Yes Mr. Gregory, Im talkin’ bout you! Sitting there in your laid back chair and callin’ Scott a jerk when the rest of the country sees the real jerk. In case ya forgot college McClellen is the Prof and you are the student in the well. Give yourself a raise Dave. The rest of us will go take a piss.
I sure hope my mom never gits over here………I’ll ………breaking news………Hirado Riveria has just intered the gutter with Davey.
…………..not done yet
Newsflash ll ……….O’rielly took it back when he promised. While throwin a jab at the city of SF, he also told his guest that the guest could have the “last word” and didn’t. Sources say he took way too long to reveal this and was lambasted by Dave,Hillary,and Harry, (I’ll take three days to tell ya about my stroke) Ried.
“I’m the one who shot my friend” Mr. Cheney needs a check of reality. Imagine the fellows that wonder which one was responsible for Pat Tillmans death. They have to live with far worse memories than (hopefully) than Richard does.
Friendly fire is not very seldom friendly…….it’s just a destination.
If this is still on the front pages tomorrow, post this
Think about this…….in the same time it took Dick Cheney to make sure his friend was ok, Al Gore put more of our troops in the direct crosshairs of our enemy. To die. Which VP deserves the shame?
It’s an excellent bumper sticker, over priced, but excellent nevertheless. In very few words it makes a number of complex points, and brings VP Cheney’s immediate concern for Mr Whittington’s injury into sharp contrast to Ted Kennedy’s depraved indifference to Mary Jo Kopechne’s slow torture into a cold and lonely death.
I fought in the BB gun wars too. Only we always went for the legs. No shots were allowed above the waist. Anyone who violated the rule had to stand still and take one in the butt from every member of the other side.
Vigorous enforcement of the rule kept errant shots to a minimum. However, I urge today’s young troops to substitute water guns for Red Ryders. Although, I do admit to keeping mine handy, just in case.
We used Daisy’s, with a two-pump limit (which can break the skin at close range, but no worse). We had the same rules: Only below the waist (which didn’t stop the donning of real army surplus helmets and woodshop goggles).
Of course, everyone also wore long-johns and jock-strapped cups beneath their blue-jeans, no matter how warm the weather…
Well, we didn’t have any helmets, long-johns, or other fancy gear. Before hostilities, we had to walk the highway ditches to collect soft drink bottles we could turn in for 2 cents each. Lucky indeed was the happy air rifle warrior who could afford to buy a fresh tube of BB’s, a coke, and a pack of nabs. Then, properly prepared for combat, we gladly shot down the dirty dogs from the next block over.
I, for one, would volunteer for combat while passing the gravel-pit on my way home from the gym–wearing only sweatpants and a tee-shirt (hence learning to run very, very fast–but inevitably getting pegged on the exposed, inside of my thigh while sprinting, which really smarts, let me tell ya).
One fine day, me and my pal, Red Arnold, were out with our BB guns keeping stray dogs on the move, when we met a great guy. He was quite a bit older than us, but younger than our parents.
He told us about the BB gun brigade of local boys who volunteered to repel Japanese invaders the first few nights after Pearl Harbor. Along the sand dunes of Ocean View, where conventional wisdom anticipated the invasion would surely come, local boys took it upon themselves to dig in and wait to meet the enemy.
They stayed at their posts till morning, or till their Mothers made them go home. It was cold those nights in early December, and some boys left on their own, but most stayed and kept watch along the shore line. Our new friend was proud to have served in the brigade, and we were glad he took the time talk with us. Also, we decided to stop shooting his dog.
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HAHAHAHAHA, we’re was the foaming mouth press when Sub Capt Teddy K. put the SS Buick in the drink with Mary Jo K. Cpt. T was so distraught he spent 8 hours in motel room before calling the cops to see if MJK held her breath. Low and behold Cpt. T got a slap on the wrist. Cpt. T showed great and compassionate concern over MJK. However, Cheney worried about his friend that he just shot accidently, did not call David Gregory before calling the doctor. And the hypocritical MSM foams on like rabid dogs.
We used to put tin pans on our heads and have bb gun fights.
The #1 rule was no aiming at the head. If at any time during a battle if you heard a “ping” on your head the battle was over or one of my bros would be kicked out for bad shootin’. Ya see we were acurate at a very young age. We always hit where we were aiming or we were shamed.
Have you ever been hit by a bb? Or worse shot from a real shotgun?
Mrs. Singleton had shotgun with rocksalt in the shells. She said we’d git a pantsfull iffin we didnt stop by the house and ask. We’d drink goats milk and the lady let us hunt the whole ranch.
I’ve been sprayed with shotgun bb’s and it ain’t fun. Shit happens.
But when it happens to some one you have a life with it becomes personal.
I believe our vice president feels the same remorse and convictions you or I would have under the circumstances. We all pray that Harry has a full recovery and them two can sit around a fire and jab eachother about it.
All the critisisum from the “left out MSM” is pure honey for most in this country beacuse they are so under the microscope……..and the picture is “fuzzy” to say the least. Yes Mr. Gregory, Im talkin’ bout you! Sitting there in your laid back chair and callin’ Scott a jerk when the rest of the country sees the real jerk. In case ya forgot college McClellen is the Prof and you are the student in the well. Give yourself a raise Dave. The rest of us will go take a piss.
I sure hope my mom never gits over here………I’ll ………breaking news………Hirado Riveria has just intered the gutter with Davey.
…………..not done yet
Newsflash ll ……….O’rielly took it back when he promised. While throwin a jab at the city of SF, he also told his guest that the guest could have the “last word” and didn’t. Sources say he took way too long to reveal this and was lambasted by Dave,Hillary,and Harry, (I’ll take three days to tell ya about my stroke) Ried.
“I’m the one who shot my friend” Mr. Cheney needs a check of reality. Imagine the fellows that wonder which one was responsible for Pat Tillmans death. They have to live with far worse memories than (hopefully) than Richard does.
Friendly fire is not very seldom friendly…….it’s just a destination.
If this is still on the front pages tomorrow, post this
Think about this…….in the same time it took Dick Cheney to make sure his friend was ok, Al Gore put more of our troops in the direct crosshairs of our enemy. To die. Which VP deserves the shame?
It’s an excellent bumper sticker, over priced, but excellent nevertheless. In very few words it makes a number of complex points, and brings VP Cheney’s immediate concern for Mr Whittington’s injury into sharp contrast to Ted Kennedy’s depraved indifference to Mary Jo Kopechne’s slow torture into a cold and lonely death.
The double-standard, BlackJack, is astonishing.
I was involved in the same type of bb gun wars, Rovin, at the gravel pits.
Same rules.
(No one shot their eye out)
John,
I fought in the BB gun wars too. Only we always went for the legs. No shots were allowed above the waist. Anyone who violated the rule had to stand still and take one in the butt from every member of the other side.
Vigorous enforcement of the rule kept errant shots to a minimum. However, I urge today’s young troops to substitute water guns for Red Ryders. Although, I do admit to keeping mine handy, just in case.
Yup. Just in case Black Bart comes to town…
We used Daisy’s, with a two-pump limit (which can break the skin at close range, but no worse). We had the same rules: Only below the waist (which didn’t stop the donning of real army surplus helmets and woodshop goggles).
Of course, everyone also wore long-johns and jock-strapped cups beneath their blue-jeans, no matter how warm the weather…
Oh yeah?
Well, we didn’t have any helmets, long-johns, or other fancy gear. Before hostilities, we had to walk the highway ditches to collect soft drink bottles we could turn in for 2 cents each. Lucky indeed was the happy air rifle warrior who could afford to buy a fresh tube of BB’s, a coke, and a pack of nabs. Then, properly prepared for combat, we gladly shot down the dirty dogs from the next block over.
Hey, I didn’t say I was properly outfitted.
I, for one, would volunteer for combat while passing the gravel-pit on my way home from the gym–wearing only sweatpants and a tee-shirt (hence learning to run very, very fast–but inevitably getting pegged on the exposed, inside of my thigh while sprinting, which really smarts, let me tell ya).
Ah yes, the fundraisers…
One fine day, me and my pal, Red Arnold, were out with our BB guns keeping stray dogs on the move, when we met a great guy. He was quite a bit older than us, but younger than our parents.
He told us about the BB gun brigade of local boys who volunteered to repel Japanese invaders the first few nights after Pearl Harbor. Along the sand dunes of Ocean View, where conventional wisdom anticipated the invasion would surely come, local boys took it upon themselves to dig in and wait to meet the enemy.
They stayed at their posts till morning, or till their Mothers made them go home. It was cold those nights in early December, and some boys left on their own, but most stayed and kept watch along the shore line. Our new friend was proud to have served in the brigade, and we were glad he took the time talk with us. Also, we decided to stop shooting his dog.
That’s a great story, Black!
I bet that could make a good short story. I’m serious.
There was a screenplay that recollected that precise time and place, and milked the anticipation, paranoia, and outright hysteria on the West Coast.
Spielberg made it into a movie called *1941*–but it was kind of a spoof and wasn’t received by critics very well.
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