What is “Perfection?”

Since I have plenty of time on my hands, I often contemplate such nebulous topics.   Can it be defined?  Quantified? Hypothesized surely; but universal agreement is harder than women and men getting along in a marriage.

Watching sports, we often say any team that is undefeated has had a “perfect” season.  Well,  they haven’t lost, but have they played “perfect?”

When I pay off my credit card, within my budget, is that “perfect?”  I think so, but I doubt most anyone else does.

Smoking that one great cigar, paired with an 18 year-old scotch, we all want to say…”perfect.”

What guy can ever forget Bo Derek running down the beach with her braids (and other stuff) bouncing all around.  She was a “10”…which is “perfect” for us guys.   Women say the “perfect” guy is one who listens to her; fulfills her needs: physically, mentally and emotionally; and loves her company.   We know what men say: “If she’s hot, has money, and her dad owns a liquor store (with a pizza parlor in back), then she’s damn ‘perfect!'”

The ’72 Dolphins didn’t lose a game and won the Super Bowl, but they were far from “perfect.”  The UConn women’s basketball team is nearing perfection in the NCAA tournament, undefeated in 4 years, NO team has EVER done that.  They did lose…once…in the past 130  games, in the regular season.   The statue “Winged Victory of Samothrace” in the Louvre  is close…but she’s missing her head and arms.  Michelangelo’s “David” in Firenze is damn close!  DAMN CLOSE!!  His arms seem a little long though.  When Neal Armstrong took his “small step for man,” we all thought that was “perfect.”  Every Red Sox fan screamed “perfect” in ’04, when they finally won a World Series.  Dare I mention how the Cubs fans felt after Bryant made that sweet play on the chopper to end game 7.

Everyone has a definition for “perfect.”  It doesn’t have to be something we all agree on.  Rather, it just needs to be something each of us can relish and never forget.  For me,  I watched Secretariat run at the Belmont in ’73.  That was “perfection;”  the only time I admit to having seen something “perfect.”  I still break down in tears when I watch it.  Beat that!!

Interesting fact:  My 22 year-old baby girl recently said: “Gawd Dad, I can’t go to that mall…I don’t have any money to shop!!”  I thought…”PERFECT!”

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The Two-Party System

Ain’t it grand when the country’s two political parties, the Donkey and the Heffalump, select their candidates.  The country gets all twitter-pated with anticipation, regardless of the candidate.  What a great system (puke, puke)!

If you want to have fun (cough, cough), read the political analysis about the candidates.   Seems the parties select the person who has the best chance at defeating the other guys’ candidate.  Who knew??!  Who cares if that candidate is worth a pile of shit in a perfume factory.  “We’ll win with Herkimer (our bunny rabbit when I was  a kid).  Shasta (the neighbor’s guinea pig) has no chance now!”

I played golf with an older couple a few months ago (yes children, there are people older than dear-old-Dad).  The wife was just a ride-along, as her husband played with us.  She seemed to be a nice, quiet, reserved Grandma…until we started talking about politics.  “I’ve been a Republican all my life.  I know that Trump is a Facist, but I’ll never vote Democrat!”  I asked her if she wanted to abstain from voting for President…and use her non-vote as a statement to protest terrible selection options.  “Oh no, I can’t do that.”  I wondered, out loud, what would happen if more people didn’t vote for either, focusing instead on using their vote for local and state contests.  “I don’t care about the local stuff.  I just want a Republican in the White House…any Republican.”   I guess that explains all the local taxes I pay for the digging and filling I see around my ‘hood.  I won’t mention the Mello-Roos for the high school down the street…where my kids never went.

Is our vote a privilege or a right?  It’s a constitutional right, but a privilege paid for by those who have sacrificed to keep that right safe and secure.  So many stupid people vote based on what they see, not on what they read or hear.  I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard women say, “He’s a good looking man.  He gets my vote.”  If that’s the key determinate, then Clinton wouldn’t get “Pig of the Year” at the State Fair.   I gotta admit, if some rocket-hot chick ran for Prez, I would certainly watch her…initially.  Remember the ding-bat from Alaska.  She wasn’t too bad, especially compared to the friggin’ douche pump McCain.  Alas, she got ugly when she opened her mouth.  Bummer.

Time to face the facts, Ignorant People.  The number ONE job of any politician, once elected, is to get RE-ELECTED!   Republican or Democrat.  Man or Troll.  That crap they tell us in the campaign means Jack and Shit…and Jack left town.  Wise up and use your noggin.  I know it’s hard…especially for the Wal-Mart crowd (don’t worry, that sale on ammo will still be going on next month).   Don’t tie yourself to some BS arguments about: Liberal vs Conservative; Large Government vs Less Taxes; Right to Choose vs Right to Life.    Politicians are all the same:  Money and Power.  How about this mantra:  “When they don’t deliver on their campaign promises, vote them OUT!  Next in line.”

Remember:  Government for the People, by the People.  They work for US!  Use your right to vote as a tool, not as some number in a database (or a hanging chad).  When the Founding Fathers wrote the Constitution, they never dreamed of “professional” politicians.  Serving the people was something you did to represent your constituency…for a few years.  Then you went back to your business. It was never meant to be a career choice.

People, the inmates are running the asylum and they ain’t real bright.  They’re puppets on a string; and Geppetto is the Party Leadership.  We’re smarter than that…even you goofs who stand in line for the latest iPhone.  Think for yourself and take over the strings…and turn Pinocchio into a boy.  How’s that for an analogy!

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Greed…and Stupidity!!

I watched “The Big Short” last night.  A very entertaining and informative movie.  Although I lived through that time of the greatest financial collapse of the last 70 years, caused by the collapse of the housing market, I was not completely familiar with all the main drivers of that fiasco.  The movie exposed the particular players and how their roles contributed to the fraudulent and illegal activities of  the bankers and government officials.

Here’s my question:  Why don’t we see this subject matter repeatedly reproduced on the History Channel, CNN, etc.?  I don’t think I can turn on those channels without seeing another story about the Jewish Holocaust at least once a week.  The stories are WELL remembered, for the past three generations.  I appreciate the warning to history that it could happen again (I do admit that I often wonder why we don’t see more stories of the atrocities that Stalin committed against his own people…20 million dead)!  I guess American television is more concerned with the Jewish plight than the poor gypsy, slavs and peasants of Russia.

But really, let’s focus on a real and present danger (and I’m not talking about Trump and Clinton…yet).  The bankers of this country colluded without any real risk to the themselves.  The level of their “crookedness” is frightening.   They leveraged their customers’ hard-earned money (who were us guys) without any concern for their own personal exposure. Why?  Because they knew the government “overseers” would bale them out.   They  assumed  the American public would not survive without the banks (I’m sure the 8 million folks who lost their jobs might argue that point), and the government would save them.  Unfortunately, they were correct.

What have we learned?  Nothing. More government oversight?  No.  Breakup the big banks and limit the collusion?  Not a chance.  Alan Greenspan at the Fed let all this happen.  His successor Bernanke’s answer was to drop the interest rates to ZERO and “stimulate” the economy…to the slowest, most tepid recovery of a any recession in history.   The new chick is trying not to screw up the grinding return to “normalcy.”

As far as the housing market goes, we’re seeing a significant uptick in house prices.  “Ruh Roh,” you might be saying.   On one hand, it is significantly harder to get a loan now than it was 15 years ago, thanks to significant government involvement.  Yea for us!  However, the significant driver to qualify for a home loan now is how much you make in current income, not how much you have saved.  Here’s an example:

  1. Bob has $1,000,000 in savings, with perfect credit.  He is retired, with no current income, no kids at home.  He will collect approx. $24,000 a year in social security next year and beyond.
  2. Little Susy and Jimmy have $3,500 in savings, average credit.   They have a combined yearly income of $80,000.

They both want to buy a home of equal value.  Bob wants to buy a house now, to enjoy his retirement, and lock in a low fixed interest rate for the next 30 years.  Little Susy and Jimmy want to buy a house close to a school, so their kids can walk less than 200 yards back and forth, with a low initial adjustable rate, adjusting in 3 years.  So, who gets the loan?  Well, Little Susy and Jimmy do, because they qualify with their current income.  Yea for them!  Bob has to wait until he has more income with his social security next year…and probably pay a higher interest rate.

Now, what happens over the next couple of years when Little Susy gets pregnant…again, and quits her job?  Less disposable income, more expenses.   Jimmy doesn’t get the raise he was expecting and loses out on a promotion. Little Susy wants a bigger car for the larger family.   One kid wants to play the cello, go to soccer camp and get the latest IPhone.  The other kid wants Playstation 4,  the best shoes and a 4K HD television.

You know where this is headed.  Little Susy and Jimmy give the little assholes what they want, fall behind in their bills, the interest rate adjusts and they can’t pay their monthly payment.   Feel sorry for us…”we have kids and want a house,” they say.  “It’s our American right!”  WRONG!!  It’s your American privilege, one you have to earn every month.   They declare bankruptcy…and depart their home and move in with Jimmy’s folks…who live in a trailer park in Wichita, Kansas.

Bob gets his house, with a little higher interest rate.  His savings are more than enough to cover his monthly expenses.  He live comfortably, thanks to his sacrifice for many years of savings.  He sits on his deck, enjoying the sunset, watching his girlfriend cook dinner in her tiny tank top.  He wishes Jimmy and Little Susy all the best.   “Enjoy Springtime, Suckas!!”

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The Emerging New Face of Women’s College Basketball?

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Really??  Personally, I don’t have anything against Dawn Staley.  Great player, good coach, seems like a nice person…but “the New Face”?  Ya gotta at least get to the Big Game first!  And I’m not talking winning some BS league like the SEC (aka, ESPN/NCAA).   Some idiot from USA Today (when was the last time that rag was relevant?) wrote a stream of consciousness calling Staley the “emerging new face….”

Why, you may ask?  I’ll tell you my idea of “why.”  No. 1: She’s a woman; No. 2: She’s black; No. 3: She’s homosexual.   This sport has despised Geno Auriemma for years because: he’s a dude; he’s white; and he’s straight.  For some clueless reason, the sportswriters and other coaches hate that.  Combine these limitations with his biting personality, and you can see why Brenda Frese at Maryland annually tries the:  “Well, if Geno didn’t have 10 high school All Americans on his team, he would have to really coach…just like the rest of us.”

Wow!  Funny how everyone crowns John Wooden “the Greatest of All Time”…and he was a 60’s-something white guy.  But Geno always seems to get the: “yeah, but he has great ball players.”  HELLOOOOOO.  Wooden had: Alcindor, Goodrich, Wickes, Walton, Wilkes, Johnson, etc.  Is Geno not supposed to recruit (and capture) great players?  “For the sake of the game, Geno, we don’t want you to recruit  Stewie, Mo, Diana, Sue, Maya, Tina, Rebecca, etc.  Let other teams get them.  Oh yeah…and don’t coach teamwork, discipline, maturity, effort.”   Riiiiiiight.

Women’s basketball was driven by Pat Summit at Tennessee for many years.  She was a butch looking, she-bitch who got the best players and won repeatedly.  Then…Geno showed up and tortured her.  Finally, she just gave up and cried to anyone who would listen.  Why?  Because Geno was a smart-ass short dude from Philly who knew how to coach and how to win.  The old guard of “women” in the sport just can’t let it go.  That prune-face at Stanford, with her ugly Sisters of Sappho coaching staff, is a hanger-on that needs to move on.  The old gal at UNCheat is nearing the end.  The squalling bimbo at Duke has never won.   Frese at Maryland won one in ’06…hasn’t been back to the Big Game since.  Mulkey at Baylor has won a couple, but she only won once when she had  that giant “girl” for 4 years.  McGraw at Notre Dame  has one.  She competes and competes strongly.  She can say some stupid stuff sometimes, but she at least can coach.  I guess she’s a little too old to be “emerging”.

If you want a “new face”…try on Jeff Walz at Louisville.

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He’s 45…same age  as Staley.  He’s a great recruiter, good coach, fun interview.  Oh yeah, he’s been to two National Championship games.  Unfortunately, he had to play UConn in both of them.  He also engineered  the greatest upset of all time vs. Baylor (with that 6′ 8″ guy) back in ’13.  BTW, he was the primary assistant to Frese when Maryland won in ’06.  Hmmmmm…

Alas, it’s gonna be a hard sell because…well…he’s a dude; he’s white; and he’s straight.  Get the picture now??

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Random Thoughts for a Sunday

There’s one of those emails going around describing the change of name to Social Security checks.  They’ll now be called: “Federal Benefit Payment.”  Now, I normally don’t put much credence in these forwarded emails, daring you to forward to others…”The Country needs to Know the Truth!!”

Who knows if it’s really true, but it does bring up a good point.  We hear our wonderful politicians calling social security an “entitlement program,”  like welfare.  Ahhhhh….HELL NO.  I earned that money…every cent of it.  And my employers, thru the years, matched my unauthorized contribution (I never volunteered to contribute).  Given the option, I never would have paid a cent into it; but since I had to,  I want MY money when I turn 62…and one minute.  I’m not entitled to it…I OWN it.  It’s not a government hand-out or “benefit.”  It be my MO-NY!   Remember the 9 words President Reagan said you never want to hear:  “I’m from the government and I’m here to help!”

Here’s some good news:  You can get your monthly SS payment as a direct deposit.  That way, no matter what they call it, you won’t have to see the check…just the debit in your checking/savings.  Giddy Up!

The Irish Day of Celebration is near!  St. Patty’s Day is quickly approaching.   The favorite time of year for our Irish brethren…I guess.  Personally, I think it’s just a recognized excuse for a day of unbridled drinking, by anyone.  Do we really need an excuse??  I wonder how many non-Irish even know what St. Patrick is known for…something about banishing snakes from the island, I think.

I’ll never forget spending a March 17th in Vegas one year…with some squadron mates, including Shaun Kelly and Tim McCarty.  We found the dual piano bar in New York/New York casino and started our “celebrating” around 4:00 pm.  The memorable moments included one of us trying to hit on the high-price talent sitting by the pianos.  Luckily, we shut him down before Rocco, Tony the Plumber, and Vito showed to escort their “girlfriends.”  After that, “Tiny” Tim and Shaun got into a heated argument about whether all Irish are drunks.  Tiny said, “Hell Yeah, we are.”  Shaun took exception and the screaming began (the multiple beers and shots of Irish whiskey didn’t help).  Being a good White, Anglo-Saxon Protestant, I just laughed my ass off.   That really pissed them off.  We were asked to leave about 11.  As I remember, the corn beef hash was really good…unfortunately, Tim and Shaun left their portions in the parking lot.

Halloween is NO HOLIDAY!  Just like St. Patrick’s Day, it’s just a day of “celebration”.  In this case, dress up like goofballs and get candy, for the kids, and drink at parties, for the adults (maybe I got that reversed).  A holiday is a day of observance and remembrance…and no workie!  Labor Day, Independence Day, Memorial Day, etc…those are “Holidays.”   Halloween is in the same category with Arbor Day and Groundhog Day…only much more expensive, for some.

Don’t get me wrong…I loved Halloween as a kid.  Back then, Mom would feed us around 5 and then send us on our way.  Our potential territory was huge, but we always seemed to not quite make it all the way around.  Our husky brother T would got tired (“Come on guys, let’s go home”).  One year, one of our “posse” got a ball of stuff, wrapped in tin foil.  “Was it popcorn…jelly beans…peanut M&Ms,” we wondered?  It was dark, but he unwrapped it anyway and sampled it.  “Hmmm, it’s crunchy…kinda….BLAH!!”  Puking it up, he screamed, “It’s dog food!!”   **Important safety tip:  Never eat anything you can’t see.

I miss those times when we would dare each other to jump over a short fence.  Someone would always trip (it was pretty dark, after all).  We would help the poor guy up…slowly.  That gave us time to empty his bag of candy that inevitably spilled during his fall.

Given a similar scenario, I weep for the children of today…they probably just take the poor, fallen guy’s cell phone.  Now that would be…PANIC!!

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Clinton taking one step forward…two steps back

I hate that c-u-….er…Twat.  Really do!  She’s is a putrid  example of human flesh…and the “human” part is debatable.  Between her and that despicable husband, they make Himmler and Hitler look good.  (at least those two were true to their beliefs…as perverted and homicidal as they were).

Clinton was at Nancy Reagan’s funeral and during an interview, she praised Reagan’s “activism” in literacy, drug awareness and being an effective AIDS advocate.   Ok, thanks for the words, Ms Anti-Christ.   And then…Some guy who is the president of the Human Rights Campaign, whatever the f- that is, goes to his twitter acct to post his twit rebuttal: “While I respect her advocacy on issues like stem cell & Parkinson’s research, Nancy Reagan was, sadly, no hero in the fight against HIV/AIDS.”

Clinton, forever the gutless coward, takes the focus off the funeral and seizes the moment…quickly going online to recant her statement:  “While the Reagans were strong advocates for stem cell research and finding a cure for Alzheimer’s disease, I misspoke about their record on HIV and AIDS,” Clinton said in a statement. “For that, I’m sorry.”

Wow…way to shift the focus from your low-key attendance at a former first-lady’s funeral to yourself…and apologize to a some clown who tries to desperately to keep the AIDS story alive, or whatever the hell the ‘Human Rights Campaign’ is.

The author of the story on CNN.Com writes about how the “Reagan’s were slow to react to the AIDS epidemic” back in the 80’s.

History Lesson:

For those who weren’t around in the 80’s, there was NO EPIDEMIC of AIDS in the country.  A very small % of people…and I mean VERY small, were infecting each other thru re-use of intravenous needles or by butt-haunching without simple protection (a condom).   In other words, we knew how to control this “epidemic”…those who caught it chose not to (it was an infection, not an epidemic).   Think of  lung cancer…stop smoking and your chances of getting this disease drop to almost nil.  Same thing here…stop unprotected rump-ranging or using dirty needles,  and your chances of infection drops to almost nada.  Granted, there were a  cases of tainted blood, acquired from HIV-positive donors, who unfortunately infected innocent people thru blood transfusions.  But that was a very small exception and were eliminated thru proper collection techniques.

Remember, this country is based on the principle that “Majority Rules.”  In this case, most of the country was focused…and still is…on finding a cure to cancer, along with other viscous diseases, that ravage people around the world.   Could Reagan have done more for AIDS research..probably so.  Was it a priority over other,  greater concerns during his time, like the Cold War…No; A crippled economy..No; Incurable diseases that infect the innocent…No.

I remember when my mother-in-law had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer…a particularly brutal disease that attacks for no identifiable reason and has no cure.  As the family struggled with treatment, I got a phone call from some ass-wipe, looking for donation to cancer research…and AID research, tying my potential donation to both!  WTF, I asked him.  “Well sir, we believe both are equally crippling to so many innocent victims.”  Innocent??  I swear, if the good Lord had given me a way to climb thru the phone line and strangle that piece of crap, I would have.  Comparing cancer, with no cure and limited treatment (at that time), to something that could be averted, was the most despicable thing I could think of.

Soooooo….you can see how I feel about someone (Clinton) pandering to the LGBTQRSTUV community…many of whom weren’t even alive during that period.  Yes, AIDS is a disease, mostly treatable now.  In fact, when was the last time you knew someone who died of AIDS in the last 5 years?  Now, how many people do you know, or have read about, who have died of cancer in the last 5 years?

Sometimes I could just SCREAM!!

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Cancelling Television Shows

Ever notice when a tv show about minorities (or one with a minority host) is cancelled, the first intimation is that it’s because the network is either racist, or racially motivated to remove the show.  When a show about white folks gets cancelled, it’s because of poor viewership.  Hmmmmmm….

Geez guys, maybe it’s because the show is really BAD!!  If you really want to torture yourself, watch prime-time network television for one week…Monday thru Friday.  It’s a guaranteed stomach and colon cleanse.  That’s right…it will literally force that 5 pounds of undigested red meat, stuck in your bowels for years, to evacuate the dance floor, either thru your mouth or out the rectal tract.  We’re talking “medical marvel” here.

Let’s use ABC as an example.  I was late to the “Modern Family” fan club.  I must admit, watching 2 homosexual “guys” adopt a child; Al Bundy marry some really hot latina; and some complete doofus dad and totally neurotic mom deal with three kids was never my dream show.  I was surprised…it was a hilarious show for the first few years.  Unfortunately, it spawned multiple rip-offs the last couple of years, evidently diluting ABC’s writing strength to the point of having a lot of really bad shows.  MF is a shell of its former self…talk about going thru the motions.  Have you seen “Dr. Ken”; “The Goldbergs”; “Fresh off the Boat”; “Black-ish”?   This trash is so bad that it makes me cringe…and I watch “Giant Spider Invasion”, “The Swarm” and “Twilight’s Last Gleaming”.

Meanwhile, shows like “Forever”, “Almost Human”, “Vegas” (the one with Chiklis and Quaid) have come and gone…quickly.  Didn’t hear anyone complain when those shows got the “Not enough viewers.”  What that really means is: “Sorry, not enough morons watch your show…they don’t understand it.”   I can’t wait for the oriental, jew, black outcry when those previous shows hit their “wall”.  Of course, with the modern consumer being too stupid to read a label on medicine or understand that high sodium can really mess up your body, these shows may last for years.

I wonder what high school trig class must be like:

Teacher: “Ok everyone, apply the quotient rule for the derivative of Tan (x).”

Little Bobby: “Before we start…did anyone see that short asian dude last night on ‘Dr. Ken’.  Gawd, he was so funny.  Remember when he came out of the trunk of that car in ‘Hangover’…with his Johnson wriggling everywhere.  He’s hilarious!”

I’m thinking my brothers, along with my son, act as TV talent judges.  Shows like “Elementary”, “Blacklist”, “Last Man Standing”, “Lucifer” and “Billions” get guaranteed contracts for at least 10 years.  Combined, these shows have thoughtful writing and a conglomeration of talent. We got whites, blacks, asians, jews, arabs, brits, strong women, smart men, funny people, good looking mammals throughout, with a spattering of homely folk (on the outside, of course…true beauty is on the inside).  All three networks are represented, along with a cable show.  We would truly be “all inclusive”…like Club Med.

Man, how I miss “The Munsters”; “Beverly Hillbillies”; “Avengers”; “Streets of San Francisco”(‘A Quinn Martin Production!’).   If I was King for just ONE DAY!

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The worst part of watching Women’s Basketball

Coaches and players say “don’t compare us with the men…totally different sport,” which I totally agree with.   In college, UConn is special because they play good “basketball”…not good “women’s basketball.”  Smart, unselfish, dedicated to defense, excellent conditioning.   Notre Dame is the closest in philosophy to the Huskies, but after that…

I’m not really a fan of the sport, pro or college, mostly because you have really bad coaching and the players on most teams try to play like guys, looking foolish doing it.   You can’t have it both ways.  Nothing makes me shake my head more than “what a cross-over dribble…look at her sprint to the basket, and…”  She’s out of control and smacks the ball on the bottom of the backboard, falling head-first out of bounds.

Of course, the announcers are pathetic.  “Wow…what a move.  She looks like Chris Paul with that stepback jumper!”  WTF??  She doesn’t look ANYTHING like Paul…or any other guy.  What’s wrong with looking like a woman and getting compared to other women.  “Wow…she looks like Diana Taurasi (or Candice Parker, or Sue Bird, or…).”

Let’s face it; the Women’s US Olympic team couldn’t beat the California state high school boys champion team…or Texas, or, or, or. That’s fine.  Be women…act like women.  You don’t need the tattoos, the chest bumps, the funky haircuts.   Be happy playing smart, playing hard, playing aggressive.   Just because you’re not as athletic, in most cases, doesn’t mean you can’t be more fun to watch.

For the announcers:  SHUT UP and let us watch the game.  Friggin’ morons!

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Tom and Jerry

“Hey man, the brief is in 5 minutes.”

“I know.  Almost done.  Ok…let’s go”

” I really wish you would give me your sister’s number.”

“Why…cuz she was runner-up in the ‘Hawaiian Tan’ competition?”

“Yeah…”

“Not gonna happen.”

Walking  into the ready room, they both were not overly excited about today’s mission.  With only one week left before they were heading home, they were scheduled for another combat air patrol (CAP) mission…overhead the carrier!  Not much “combat” there. They were a “standby” in case something came up.  They were to orbit overhead…for 2.5 hours…then land.

It had been a long 7 months, patrolling the coasts of Southwest Asia.  They had escorted numerous strike packages to inland targets, but never had a chance to engage any “bad-guys”.  Seems like the local gomers didn’t like to mess with F-14s.

Plopping down in their ready room chairs, they listened to the brief.  Four Hornets were going to escort a recon aircraft around the coast up north.  Boring!! The CV cap would be used as a fill-in, if required.

“Vampire 11…you’ll listen on button 9.  Don’t think we’ll need a Tomcat, but please monitor.”

“Sure.”

Leaning over to his RIO, the pilot asked: “Hey, why are our call-signs ‘Tom’ and ‘Jerry’?”

“I lost a bet with these guys.”

“I didn’t bet anyone.”

“Hey man, we’re a crew.  We hang together…right?”

“What was the bet?”

“You would give me your sister’s phone number.”

“Really…REALLY?  Dammit!”

“It’s your fault.  Gawd!  Besides, it’s just for this mission.  Good news though…since you’re the pilot, you can be ‘Tom’.

“There’s a choice for you,” Tom said sarcastically.

“Hey, I’m ‘Jerry.  Since I’m the RIO, it makes more sense.  Jerry was always smarter…just like me.”

“Jerry, I hate you sometimes.”

“Hey man, I set you up with your beautiful wife.”

“No you didn’t…you rolled in on her obnoxious roommate at the club.  I had to work really hard just to get her to talk to me, while you were sticking your tongue down that bimbo’s throat.”

“Geeeez, she was obnoxious.  That’s the only thing that shut her up.”

“Oh and don’t forget…I had to work like a dog just to get Tori to go out with me again after what you did to her roommate later that night.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Really?  You took her back to her parents house, totally liquored-up, instead of back to their apartment.”

“It was closer and I was tired.”

“Then you prop her up next to the front door, rang the doorbell and ran like a pussy.”

“I didn’t run.  I just walked briskly.  Her dad liked to hunt.  You wouldn’t like to see my head mounted on his wall, would you?”

“Right now I would….Jerry!”

“Whatever…let’s go.”

Once airborne, the flight took on the standard monotonous flavor of a CV cap.  Tom would set the auto-pilot and check the weapons.  He would slew the seeker heads of his four short range Sidewinder heat-seeker missiles, checking for a good tone in his headset.   Jerry would tune the four medium range Sparrows, selecting random frequencies.  Everything looked good.  One hour into the flight, they got an unexpected radio call.

“Vampire 11, your vector is 340…signal is ‘Buster’… switch Strike, button 8.”

Jerry, shaking his head out of a light snooze, snappily replied: “Copy, 340, switching button 8.”

Tom, with his blood flowing now, rolled and pulled the Tomcat until the heading was 340 degrees, simultaneously selecting full military power (as fast as you can go without using the gas-guzzling afterburners).

Jerry could feel his pulse racing, his g-suit inflating, his stomach muscles tightening, with a hint of bile in his throat.  “Strike, Vampire 11 checking in, heading 340.  Say intentions.”

“Vampire 11, mission is Close Air Support.  Switch Button 16…Lancelot Control.”

Tom:  “What the hell…we don’t got no friggin’ bombs for CAS…and who the hell is “Lancelot?”

Jerry: “Hush.  Lancelot, Vampire 11 is up.”

Lancelot Control:  “Vampire 11, we need you to proceed to station Alpha…I’m passing you the waypoint.”

Jerry, looking down at tactical display, sees the symbology appear…40 miles inland.  “Vampire 11, got the waypoint.  Is that you, Snidely?”

Lancelot Control:  “Yes it is…glad you recognized my voice.”

Tom:  “Tell him we don’t got no bombs.”

Jerry:  “Shut up and fly the jet…and try not to fly into anything.”

Jerry:  “Snidely, we’re air-to-air only.  Missiles and guns.”

Lancelot Control:  “Don’t need CAS.  Some Army rangers have spotted some bad-guy aircraft in their area.  The need some air superiority.”

Jerry:  “Giddy Up.  You showing any bandits?”

Lancelot Control:  “Negative, but you know our scope works best over water…not so good over land.  Contact Ranger 69 for SITREP (Situational Report) on 287.5.”

Jerry:  “What’s our weapons status?”

Lancelot Control:  “Status Red and Tight, for now.  Monitor Guard freq for any updates from Alpha Whiskey (air warfare commander). ”

Jerry: “Copy…Red and Tight.  Switching 287.5…will be up on guard freq.”

Tom:  “Master Arm On!  Good flags on all missiles.”

Jerry had his head down…slewing his radar over the target area, 50 mile scale…hoping for a hit in his doppler mode (measuring closure of a target).  He could feel it now…the excitement, the adrenaline, the focus.  His scan was quick between the radar scope and the smaller radar warning scope.

Tom’s eyes were outside…left 9 o’clock to right 3 o’clock.  “Quick, quick,” he told himself.

Jerry: “Hey man, let’s go with the Sparrows first, then switch to ‘winders.  I’ll shoot the Sparrows…you got the ‘winders.”

Tom:  “Agree.”

Jerry:  “Ranger 69, Vampire 11 checking-in.”  Nothing but low-grade static.  “Ranger 69, Vampire 11 checking-in on 287.5!”

Ranger 69 (heavy static): “Vampire, we got numerous aircraft hitting our positions.”

Tom:  “What did he say?”

Jerry: “Deep shit, I think.”

Jerry:  “Ranger 69, Vampire is south at 12 miles…can you give me a relative direction of the bad guys?”

Ranger 69 (broken transmission): “East and…looks…6…”

Jerry:  “God dammit.  Did you hear anything but ‘east’?”

Tom:  “Yeah…’six” something.”

Jerry:  “Let’s come hard right, steady 040.  We’ll sweep from east to west.  Sound good?”

Tom:  “Yes sir.  Geez, now you think you’re Mission Commander.”

Jerry:  “I am the damn Mission Commander.  Let’s stir some shit.”

A quick fuel check showed 10,000 pounds of gas remaining.   Probably enough, they both thought.

Lancelot Control:  “Vampire 11, Vampire 11…weapons’ status is Red and Free.  You’re cleared to arm; cleared to fire.”

Tom:  “Mother Fah…”

Jerry: “Copy, Red and Free.”

Jerry: “Got a lock…10 right, 7 miles, angels (altitude)…LOW!”

Tom rolled the Tomcat inverted and pulled, quickly descending from 15,000 feet to 5,000.

Jerry:  “Five miles…good lock…Fox 1!”

The launch button in the back seat glowed red as he pushed it firmly.  A half a second later, the Sparrow dropped from the fuselage, feeling like the transmission just feel out of a car.  Then a loud “whooooosh.”

Tom: “Missile tracking.”

Jerry: “Eyeballs out.  PAL selected (hoping for a quick lock on any target in the area).”

Tom:  “Fireball…no chute.”

Jerry: “Lancelot, Ranger…splash one.”

Lancelot Control: “Copy…splash one.”

Tom: “Got three bandits crossing left to right…low…”

Jerry:  “Got dick…selecting VSL (hoping for something within + or – 10 degrees of the nose, inside 5 miles).”

Tom:  “Switching heat (selecting Sidewinder)….good lock, good tone.  Fox 2.”

As Tom pulled the trigger on his control stick, the 200 lb missile came off the left wing-root rail almost simultaneously.  Another “whoosh”.

Tom:  “Fireball…good chute.”  Tally 2 bandits, on the nose, running like hell.”

Jerry:  “Good lock, 3 miles…don’t like turning our backs like this.  Let’s ‘scat’ right.”

Tom rolled the Tomcat 90 degrees, pulling hard for45 degrees, then leveled out before the radar broke lock.  Jerry was glued to looking over both shoulders for any bad guys.

Ranger 69 (mild static): “Vampire, we got 2 bandits now, straffing our positions…”

Jerry:  “Hey man, we gotta let these guys go and get back.  Ranger, Vampire is inbound from the east.”

Ranger 69: “Hurry please.”

Tom rolled then pulled the Tomcat hard…6.5 g’s worth…both guys strained and grunted to keep their vision, as it shrank and turned grey.

Jerry (groaning): “Steady out at 260.”

Tom: “Steady…fuel, 6.8…getting low.”

The Rangers were smashing themselves behind anything that they could find…mostly sand burms and brush.  So far, the bad guys couldn’t shoot accurately with their 30 mm cannon…but they kept trying.

Captain Rogers, C.O. of Delta Company, was racing between concealment positions…”God I hope those Navy pukes make it here,” he whispered to himself.

“Captain, looks like they’re leaving…or setting up for a bomb run,” screamed one of his men.

Two SU-25  Frogfoots raced north, before reversing their course.  They remained low…at about 500 feet.  Their plan was to stay low, then pop, climbing to 2,500 feet, before rolling over and pulling…allowing them to sight the intended positions…then dropping their bombs at a minimum of 1,000 feet.

“God, I hope they’re leaving,” Roger thought.

“Captain…I can see two popping up now,” screamed the same man.

“Stay LOW everybody!,” screamed Rogers.

Both Frogfoots popped at the same time, climbing quickly.  Rolling in unison, they each took a 30 degree cut away from the other, before leveling in a shallow 20 degree dive.  The western Frogfoot had acquired his target…looked like a small vehicle, when he notice a quick flash out the left quarter panel of his windscreen.  Quickly looking left, all he saw was a large cloud of white smoke,  with a fireball in the middle.  Instinctively, he jerked his aircraft hard right, away from the fireball.  Bad move!

Tom:  “Thank you, gomer.  Fox 2…again.”

The remaining Frogfoot had turned his tail pipe directly toward the Tomcat.  Normally, it’s somewhat difficult to pick up a heat tone when you’re looking high to low, over a desert.  However, the hot exhaust was more than enough to counter the hot desert sand.

Tom:  “Fireball…no chute.”

Captain Rogers could only watch in envious fascination as the two Frogfoots exploded.  “Fuckin’ A,” he whispered.

Jerry:  “Let’s bug south.”

Tom: “Buggin’ south”

The Tomcat loved the thick air of low altitude…the afterburners roared thru their five stages…settling on zone five.  As they did, the noise grew…sounding like a lion’s roar…flying over the Rangers positions at 200 feet, so low they could see the chard bottom of the Tomcat, where the hot missile exhaust burned the paint.  Quickly  climbing, the big cat’s nose rotated  70 degrees up, altitude increasing.

Ranger 69:  “Thanks Navy.  This is Bob Rogers, C.O. of Delta Company…owe you a beer.”

Jerry:  “Anytime, Baby.  You owe us two.  Glad to help.  We gotta go.  Low on juice.”

Ranger 69:  “I’ve never seen anything so big, so low, so fast and so loud.”

Jerry (grinning):  “It is kinda cool, isn’t it.  Ooo wah, Rangers.”

Ranger 69:  “Tomcats forever, Navy.”

Jerry:  “Lancelot, Vampire is off-target, heading south, climbing…passing 10,000 feet, fuel at 4.5.  Say tanker status.”

Lancelot Control:  “Texico is 170, 30 miles, Angels 18.”

Jerry:  “Radar Contact.”

Tom:  “Hey man…we got four…FOUR!”

Jerry:  “One short of being Aces.  You imagine us as ‘Aces’?”

Tom:  “Nope…you would probably try to doink the news chick who would report our story.”

Jerry:  “If she was hot….maybe.”

For the first time in an hour, Jerry took off his oxygen mask, raised his visor and took a deep breath.  “We got four,” he whispered.  As he wondered if the guy in the chute made it alive, his hands started shaking and he felt warm tears running down his cheeks.  “Mom…Dad,” he thought to himself,  “please be proud of me for this.  Lord, please forgive us.”

Tom:  “Hey man, how you feeling.”

Jerry (voice cracking): “I was so scared,” he replied, fumbling with his mask.  “Really friggin’ scared!”

Tom:  “Yeah…me too, man.  Me too.”

“Hey Jack…”

“Yes Eric..?”

“What’s your other sister look like?”

Me and Woody

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Anti-Christ or the Nazi?

That is the question.  How sad is it that this country’s best and brightest are these two clowns: Clinton vs Trump.  Let’s look at the Tale of the Tape:

    Clinton:

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Absolutely no moral or ethical bounds at all.  Nothing is ever her fault and she deflects better than anyone around…except for “husband” Slick Willy.  I will agree that she’s the “brains” of that couple…ruthless to a “T”.  Unfortunately, she’s incompetent in every facet of government.  Remember when Willy put her in charge of revamping the health care system back in the 90’s?  The kids don’t, but old guys do.  It was a comical waste of time and money….just like most of D.C. This was during the first two years of the Clinton Revolution, when the most substantial bill passage was the Motor/Voter Bill…which allowed for folks getting their driver’s license to simultaneously register to vote.  God Bless America!!

She went on to play the poor, tortured wife as Willy continued to screw ugly women, something he had been doing for years (never understood why the most powerful man in the world couldn’t get some prime tail).  Then she ran for Senate out of New York…a state she never lived in until they bought a place before announcing her candidacy.  And do we need to talk about her bang-up job as Secretary of State?

Yes, she’s a woman…kinda.  Women voted for her husband and many will no doubt do the same for her, because…well…she’s a woman.  Why not give her a chance, I say. It’s kind of like letting homosexuals marry…let them be as miserable as us straight folks. Let her display her idiocracy  openly, in front of the entire world.  Then us guys can finally retort:  “Geeez, women are so stupid too.”

Finally, she looks to be in terrible shape…and I mean that not as a misogynist male (which I’ve been accused of…hey, I’m a guy).  She just looks unhealthy.   Imagine what 4-8 years as POTUS will do.images

 

Trump:

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Absolutely no moral or ethical bounds at all (seems to be a pattern here).  If he said that clouds are white and the sky is blue…I would go outside to verify.  The man  made of mockery of the political process when he started his campaign, which I applauded, but now he’s serious.  The Republican Party once again is faced with putting another cartoon character as their candidate.  Harkens back to those heady days of Dole, McCain and Romney.  GrumpyOldTrollMini

Remember back in the 80’s and 90’s when Trump loved to be involved with “wraslin”?  The best was when he hit Captain Lou Albano over the head with a chair.  Ahhhh…the Sport of Kings!

A couple of bankruptcies and wives later (is he still married?), then he got to do television.  Pressed lips and really bad hair.  I had the pleasure (?) to see him once at his Trump Tower on 5th Avenue in NYC…just down from Tiffany’s.  Everyone stopped on the sidewalk as the 3 biggest dudes I’ve ever seen escorted “the Duck” to his Mercedes SLR.  The car was cool, but he looked like something the wolf ate and shit over the cliff.  Eeeeeeeeee.

Now he wants to build a wall.  Is it gonna have a Strip of Death, like in Berlin??  Mines, machine guns, bad Russian music??

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At least now we taxpayers will see the tangible benefits of our hard-earned, yet stolen money. “Forget Wally World kids, we’re gonna watch illegals get shot at the wall!”  Let’s not forget: “Read my lips; NO MUSLIMS…NONE.”  So much for the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.  Now it can be Land of the Captured and Home of the Paranoid.  I guess we won’t have to add “Muslim-American” to the growing list of prefaced American ethnic titles.  Bummer.

Let’s face it…the Two Party System is busted beyond repair.  That’s why I love being an Independent.  My mom always said I thought my own way from a young age.  After the first day of first grade, Mom met me in the driveway to ask how it went.  I responded: “Ok…do I have to go back?”  She just smiled.  Evidently she didn’t have the heart to tell me about the next 12 years + 4 years + 2 years.  And look how I turned out!

I should have quit after 6th grade.  Me and Jethro Bodine would have run for Prez; me as Top Cat and Jethro as my “Double Naught Spy” VP.   Herman Munster would have been my Chief of Staff and Jeannie would have been my Sec. of State (I dreamed about her a lot).   Ahhhhh…what could have been!

Now I understand what Edward R. Murrow meant when he closed his broadcast with:  “Good Night and Good Luck!”

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T & K on Mustang

Almost puked watching the trailer for the “Ghostbusters” remake

Normally, a trailer for a movie, especially a comedy, is supposed to have the funniest parts, to attract the most viewers.  If that’s the case, the re-make of “Ghostbusters” will be complete TRASH.  I’m talking unbelievably BAD!

Why Hollywood has no original thoughts isn’t hard to understand.  It’s not about “artistic expression” or “storytelling”.   It’s all about ‘da money.  Instead of putting effort into movies, they just regurgitate material from 30 years ago…and show it to another generation, thinking they haven’t seen it before.  Hello Idiots…we have DVDs, YouTube, Amazon Prime.  We can watch the originals.  How about something NEW?!

The sad part is that this movie and others will make money because the audience is dumbed-down to a point where they’ll pay money for anything.  How about saving your money and buy a membership to the local zoo…museum…art exhibits?  Instead, you’ll spend $50 for 3 tickets and lousy bucket of popcorn to waste 2 hours watching sewage.  Hello…little Jimmy needs braces and little Phyllis can’t divide 9 by 3.   Really, how can we wonder why our kids can’t spell, recall historical events, add four numbers without a calculator, and celebrate true genius (and that’s not the fat lady from “Mike and Molly”…excuse me…’heavy-set lady’).

My dad blamed the breakdown of  American society on the television  (of course, he always had to be the first guy  who had a color tv, a stereo console, a large screen, etc).   I guess my generation will blame cell phones, texting and social media (wait…I’m blogging here).  No doubt we don’t talk to each other as much, either face to face or on the phone.  My daughter will text me, I’ll call her back immediately and she won’t answer.  HUH?? “GAWD Pops, I don’t have time to talk!”  Hmmmm, you have time to text me 7 times, taking 5 minutes,  to get an answer I can give you on the phone in 5 seconds?

Technology is not our enemy.  It allows for longer lifespans, greater travel opportunities, expansion of individual learning and development.  What is our enemy is mental and physical lethargy.  “I have seen the enemy, and he is US!”  Get up, move around and maybe read a book…even on an e-reader, if you like.  For your kids, stop being a friend and be a parent.   Anyone can be a mom or dad.  All it takes is…well…you know.  My old man always used this analogy: “Any whore in Detroit can be a mother” (not sure why he chose Detroit).   A mom or dad says “yes” to their kids…a parent says “NO”.  There’s no secret to being a good parent…just love your kids and be there for them.  Inspire them, motivate them, challenge them.  It’s ok to set boundaries and enforce discipline.  My mom was a genius at parenting.  When I would ask: “Ah Mom, why can’t I?”  She would simply respond: “Because I said so!”  Case closed!

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Partial ejection

Why are college sports fans so STUPID?

I was reading the other day about the SMU women’s basketball coach retiring after 30 years.  One of her reasons why was that she was tired of trying to recruit high school players who felt entitled to as much as they could get from a school.

Evidently, a full ride scholarship (room/board/tuition) to an excellent school isn’t enough.  Schools now pay an “attendance fee” to athletes that help cover other costs, like health care (guess the on-campus clinic isn’t enough), childcare (hmmm), travel (back and forth to home, I guess).   These athletes don’t care about the academic standing or prestige  of the school…just how much extra money they can get over just a few years.

Sooooo, some of these idiot fans comment that since most athletes don’t go on to professional sports, they should get as much money as possible.  Playing a sport with no future??  For a few years??  Oh yeah, and the coach shouldn’t complain because they make a ton of money off the athletes.  WOW!!!

First of all, you go to college to get an education and for future possibilities of employment.  You’re not a professional yet.  However, the coach is a professional.  He/she went to college, got a degree and has worked her butt off to get to that position.  Teenagers have NOT.   The idea of choosing a school because they can give you an extra $100/month over attending one that gives numerous possibilities of future success is IDIOTIC, especially for a girl athlete who has limited to no chance of making money as a pro.  The opportunities are so rare for them (that’s another discussion topic).

Second, these kids obviously have no supervision in their lives…someone to explain the facts of Capitalism.  “When you work for a company, Little Suzy, the CEO of that company can make millions off your efforts and others.  That’s because they have worked their way to the top.  You however, have not, so buckle up and work hard.”  Substitute “CEO” with “Coaches and Athletic Directors”.   Athletes get free tuition, lodging, food, books in exchange for a degree (if they earn it) by playing a GAME!  I know who you’re thinking: “Yes, but they spend hours practicing.”   Guess what, other students, who have to pay their own way, spend hours WORKING…really crappy jobs (“Welcome to McDonald’s…may I take your order”).   At least athletes get to play around.  “Fine, but they get really tired and it’s hard to focus in class (if they go at all).”   Ummm, try closing at Melvyn’s shoe department at 9 pm, get back to your room at 10 and study for some BS final, after going to 3 classes and working 6 hours.   Once again, at least athletes don’t have to worry about making that rent/tuition/book payment or hope that Albertson still has that sale of Saltines (2 boxes for $4) or that case of Lone Star ($5 per).

Finally,  if you are a sports fan of either men’s or women’s athletics, and want to see a team devoid of ego (other than the coach), watch the UConn women’s basketball team.  Auriemma takes the best players for his system, often the best in the country, and makes them better players, teammates and people.  He has no patience for “me, me, me”.  Some have tried…all have failed.  The price they pay?  Four years of unending push from the coaching staff.    His players don’t wear tattoos (if they have one, they have to hide them during games), they don’t twitter during the season and all eyes are on the coaches when they talk.  If I had a teenage daughter who wanted to play basketball, the right way, I could only hope that they would have an opportunity to play for Geno.   But she had better be ready.

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Me at 2

Why the United Kingdom is Irrelevant

Does anyone even care about the UK anymore…as an international power??  They’re unable to control the overflow of illegal immigrants, they are militarily impotent and their sacred Pound is taking a beating.   Unlike the Cold War when they represented Europe, they are now second tier to Germany and even…God forbid…France.

They have held onto a favorable exchange rate against the dollar for years. Corporate employees love to come over here to buy stuff and then ship it home.  Uggggggghhhh.   As far as I’m concerned, they should pay us ‘Mericans just to visit them.  After all, we kicked their butts twice (the first time with a bunch of farmers carrying pitchforks) and saved their asses twice.  Instead, we pay 3 pounds ($4.50) for a cup of lousy coffee and don’t ask for a refill, unless you have another 3 pounds.  Food is bad and they can’t even speak their own language.  Geeeeezzzzzz.

I was at a bar in Rome a few years ago and sat next to a couple from Scotland.  Having a good conversation, we were later joined by a couple from England.  I couldn’t help but stoke that fire.  Some time later, a couple from Australia sat near us.   God was smiling on me that night.   I kept buying drinks for the members of the Commonwealth.  It was like pulling a heavy scab off a gaping ax wound.   They almost had to call the Policia.   That clown Commonwealth of theirs is full of hatred for one another.  Too bad a couple from Northern Ireland didn’t appear.  I could have witnessed some “draw and quartering”.

I must say I love their TV shows and movies.  But on the international relevancy scale, they’re neck and neck with Norway and Denmark.

All Hail the Bloody UK!!

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Recent Hollywood Buffoonery

I was reading CNN.com recently and I saw where some actress (Raven somebody) said she would move to Canada if the Republicans nominate someone.  Bless her heart…she’s not very bright.  She obviously doesn’t understand the political system of this country.  Be sure to take a coat, Sweetheart.

Anyway, the rest of the article discussed her sexual orientation (she’s homosexual) and her lineage (she’s black).  Admittedly, I agreed with her stance on not wanting to be labeled as either gay or African-American.  Bless her heart…she actually got one right.

Here’s my stance:  who gives a rat’s butt what your sexual persuasion is (although I’m still waiting for Heterosexual Pride Week); and if you’re born in the US…guess what…wait for it…you’re an AMERICAN.  Or, as I like to say…’Merican!!  So damn tired of Italian-American, Mexican-American, Polish-American.  Commonality there…even Raven could get this right…is the word “American”.  Welcome to the party, Pal.

Funny how immigrants can’t wait to be a naturalized citizen so they can call themselves “American”.  Celebrate your heritage all you want, but at the end of the day, be damn glad your live in the most screwed up democracy the world has ever seen.  Remember, for those of us who have traveled the world, even though we’re not close to perfect, we beat whatever’s in second place by a country mile!  (For Raven, it’s the same distance as a regular mile; just a corn-porn saying).

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