a keyboard, a second-grade education, and a powerful sense of entitlement
That Whole Six Degrees Thing
In the summer of 1972, I was a carefree kid in Montgomery, Alabama, spending my time running around in the woods behind my house, and soaking up the hot Alabama sun. Unbeknownst to me at the time, this guy from Texas named George Bush Jr. was in town that summer to help Red Blount run for Senate. He was also temporarily attached to the Air National Guard Unit at Dannelly Field (I attended Dannelly Elementary School - I still don't know who this Dannelly guy is).
Lieutenant Bush's commanding officer was General William Turnipseed. General Turnipseed's admin officer was Kenneth Lott. Kenneth Lott lived about six houses up the street from me, and has a son my age who was a good friend of mine growing up. Turnipseed and Lott have no recollection of that guy who spent a few months in their unit over 31 years ago.
Now the times has never been political, and I'm not gonna start now. We try to be about the funny here. But what strikes me as funny is that anyone believes that people are gonna remember who they were in the Guard with for a few months in 1972. I spent parts of 1989 and 1990 in the Naval Reserve in Columbus, Georgia, and I couldn't name one person I served with there. And you probably wouldn't find anyone that remembers me. And if there was a slacker running the paperwork then or at any point afterwards, there may be no record of my being there. Anyone who has spent any time in the military knows that the paperwork is a joke. They spend way more on making sure that missles hit their targets and ships don't get lost than they do on personnel recordkeeping.
Now the years (84-88) I spent on a submarine is another story. I probably remember 30 or 40 of the 300 plus people who were on the boat at some point during that time. There was Doc (who was a mechanic, not a medic), and Stoop, and Junior, and Killer, and Squatty, and the Penguin, and Prep, and Lou, and Fleck, and many, many more. We were big on nicknames. But there were also a ton of guys who I probably wouldn't be able to identify from a photo if my life depended on it.
So basically, all you lefty blogs out there need to find something else to harp on. I imagine they teach this at those liberal arts institutions you attended, but if you missed out on science class, you cannot prove a theory by pointing to a lack of evidence to the contrary. And serving in the military, no matter what you did, or how spotty your record is, is not "draft dodging". Not any more than running off to Oxford to smoke dope and score some European tail is.
In the summer of 1972, I was a carefree kid in Montgomery, Alabama, spending my time running around in the woods behind my house, and soaking up the hot Alabama sun. Unbeknownst to me at the time, this guy from Texas named George Bush Jr. was in town that summer to help Red Blount run for Senate. He was also temporarily attached to the Air National Guard Unit at Dannelly Field (I attended Dannelly Elementary School - I still don't know who this Dannelly guy is).
Lieutenant Bush's commanding officer was General William Turnipseed. General Turnipseed's admin officer was Kenneth Lott. Kenneth Lott lived about six houses up the street from me, and has a son my age who was a good friend of mine growing up. Turnipseed and Lott have no recollection of that guy who spent a few months in their unit over 31 years ago.
Now the times has never been political, and I'm not gonna start now. We try to be about the funny here. But what strikes me as funny is that anyone believes that people are gonna remember who they were in the Guard with for a few months in 1972. I spent parts of 1989 and 1990 in the Naval Reserve in Columbus, Georgia, and I couldn't name one person I served with there. And you probably wouldn't find anyone that remembers me. And if there was a slacker running the paperwork then or at any point afterwards, there may be no record of my being there. Anyone who has spent any time in the military knows that the paperwork is a joke. They spend way more on making sure that missles hit their targets and ships don't get lost than they do on personnel recordkeeping.
Now the years (84-88) I spent on a submarine is another story. I probably remember 30 or 40 of the 300 plus people who were on the boat at some point during that time. There was Doc (who was a mechanic, not a medic), and Stoop, and Junior, and Killer, and Squatty, and the Penguin, and Prep, and Lou, and Fleck, and many, many more. We were big on nicknames. But there were also a ton of guys who I probably wouldn't be able to identify from a photo if my life depended on it.
So basically, all you lefty blogs out there need to find something else to harp on. I imagine they teach this at those liberal arts institutions you attended, but if you missed out on science class, you cannot prove a theory by pointing to a lack of evidence to the contrary. And serving in the military, no matter what you did, or how spotty your record is, is not "draft dodging". Not any more than running off to Oxford to smoke dope and score some European tail is.
This guy stole some of my best moves, and he will be hearing from my lawyers. He should be a juicy target for litigation, what with his fan sites and porn star name and all.
Lifted a couple of links from Diversionz, the Midwest's largest inventory of liftable links:
The Viagra Prank had me giggling like a maniac at my desk yesterday. That's why it's not safe for work.
Having never heard of fecal tongs before seeing this page, I tried to find a little more information. All that Google returned was links back to the "collection" page. Does anyone else smell a hoax?
The Viagra Prank had me giggling like a maniac at my desk yesterday. That's why it's not safe for work.
Having never heard of fecal tongs before seeing this page, I tried to find a little more information. All that Google returned was links back to the "collection" page. Does anyone else smell a hoax?
Stuck in cloudy Orlando this week, but I have time for a few quick nuggets:
Don't shake it like a Polaroid picksha. Maybe you should shake it like a Yoo-Hoo.
Mookie is back from an eventful server overhaul. No return of Jett yet, she seems to be waffling.
I got Lost in Translation on DVD for Valentine's Day, good movie. The girl in it spends around 40% of the movie in her panties, about the same amount of time Annette Bening spent nekkid in The Grifters. She has a nice butt, so it's all good.
Don't shake it like a Polaroid picksha. Maybe you should shake it like a Yoo-Hoo.
Mookie is back from an eventful server overhaul. No return of Jett yet, she seems to be waffling.
I got Lost in Translation on DVD for Valentine's Day, good movie. The girl in it spends around 40% of the movie in her panties, about the same amount of time Annette Bening spent nekkid in The Grifters. She has a nice butt, so it's all good.
