17 June 2015
14 June 2015
25 May 2015
Memorial Day 2015
There is no ‘Happy’ Memorial Day And I despise businesses that have ‘Memorial Day Sales.’ Have some respect for those killed in action.
As long as I’m firing off salvos, Memorial Day IS NOT a day to thank veterans for their service. There are 364 days out of the year for that... or, Veterans Day. As said, please have respect and honor those who made the ultimate sacrifice, during combat, in the service to the United States of America.
Memorial Day is, was, and always will be a somber day... at least for me it is.
As long as I’m firing off salvos, Memorial Day IS NOT a day to thank veterans for their service. There are 364 days out of the year for that... or, Veterans Day. As said, please have respect and honor those who made the ultimate sacrifice, during combat, in the service to the United States of America.
Memorial Day is, was, and always will be a somber day... at least for me it is.
17 April 2015
The Village Idiot From Kenya...
...never had a pair of socks until he started making pocket change dealing drugs in Hawaii. (Kenya has already released the fact that -- yes, indeed -- Obamohammad was born there... just like Dear Ol GramMa said from the get-go. Surprise, surprise.
A friend of mine has a theory and I quote:
I’ll go a little further with this theory. Why have no friends (male or female) come forward gushing, “Gee! I knew (went with) Barry when we were at...”? The simple answer to that question would be, snitches have a way of coming up dead. There’s already one homo in Rev. (I use that title loosely) Jeremiah Wright’s Down Low Club who died a mysterious death when he came forward.
Surprise, surprise.
A friend of mine has a theory and I quote:
“My theory is Obama was a major drug dealer in Hawaii as a teen and at Colombia, where he had the drug-using professors and fellow students in his hip pocket. Same with Harvard. He didn’t attend class because he didn’t have to -- he could buy, manipulate, or coerce grades and diplomas. His 'community organizer' cover... more drug dealing.
“Community Organizer, my ass. Try major drug dealer. Hawaii -- New York -- Boston -- Chicago.
“How did Barry go from a high school pothead to being a student at Columbia and Harvard? Who paid the tab? What part time jobs did he have? Drug Dealer.
“Who writes two autobiographies before the age of 50? Why? In order to define one’s self and create a narrative.”
I’ll go a little further with this theory. Why have no friends (male or female) come forward gushing, “Gee! I knew (went with) Barry when we were at...”? The simple answer to that question would be, snitches have a way of coming up dead. There’s already one homo in Rev. (I use that title loosely) Jeremiah Wright’s Down Low Club who died a mysterious death when he came forward.
Surprise, surprise.
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