Category: Life

Ding, Dong

The son of a bitch is DEAD.

Hardest hit?

Jimmy Carter and Justin Trudeau…you’re shocked, right?

And media people are bemoaning our President-elect’s “lack” of diplomacy in HIS Fidel’s demise tweet, where I think it’s perfectly succinct and appropriate for the moment:

SWEET! Let’s pray vile brother Raul takes a sudden sharp turn towards the Cuba Libre, shall we?

We Are So Proud of You, Sgt John

From your first day on Earth, when I looked at your little red face through the hospital glass, to the day we watched you marching with that uniform on and got to meet the incredible woman who would become your wife, with everything (like 2 children) in between and afterwards, you have FOREVER been an integral, much loved part of OUR lives. Your mom Kcruella has been the sister I never had and you? Our second son, Ebola’s little brother, forever cousin, the family ties thicker than blood.

I can’t think of anything to say, my heart is so heavy and sick. Ebola had something perfect to say and so I will leave it to him, with a simple God bless you, baby boy and I pray He holds your family close.
JohnAndMe002

Dear Lord, we love you so much.

I was raised the sole child of two Marines in Southern California; my friends and my family are their friends/coworkers and children from while my parents were stationed there. Three of those children were my brothers, even while we’ve always referred to each other as cousins over the last thirty years. Years of playing hide and seek, riding bikes, of reiterating every line to Predator and/or Aliens as the movies played, laughing and bitching at each other, playing capture the flag, tag, finding injured animals and trying to nurse them to health, and telling bad jokes. We’ve all gone our separate ways over the years: the twins are successful in business, the other two of us entered service. All of us rarely get to see each other, even for special occasions, but it’s always the normal shit talking, smiles, laughter, the hate and situational discontent of youngsters. We all still talk to this day, almost thirty years later.

At 0136Z on the 12th of November, while I slept in the comfort of my home in the Pacific, the Taliban took part of my childhood. They took our brother. They took him from a loving wife, their beautiful children, from his mother and father, from an extended family, of blood and without, who loves him dearly. I’d just shot him a message ten days before, telling him happy birthday. I can’t stop reading our last email chain, filled with our normal bullshitting, split over days due to conflicting schedules and locations.

John: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Me: “I assume making huge mistakes and blaming other people. How’s life cuz?”

John: “Life is good. Probably not as pleasant as Guam, but the ol’ Stan has its perks. You can buy a magic carpet over here but it won’t fly. It will make around $1500 disappear from your wallet. I just got a box from your mom and dad loaded with cookies. How much longer is your tour over there?”

Me: “Probably extending until Oct. Waiting to see if my SERE instructor or HUMINT packages get accepted. If they do, the AF retains me, if not I get out and go back to contracting. How in the fuck do camel rugs run 1500? What a racket. lol”

John: “So you’re staying in Guam until October or are you getting out then? Those rugs are expensive but about 1/4 the cost they are in the states for a handmade Kashmir Persian rug. Smoother and softer than a babys’ ass. They’ve got all kinds of crap out here you can get custom made. I’m thinking about getting a new MOS myself but I’ve got to wait until I get back and find out where the Army is sending me next.”

The last words between John and I are shooting the shit about a fucking rug. To be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way: it was us, as we’ve always been. We’re both family and we know it, it never required quaint expressions or platitudes of familial bullshit. I chuckle thinking about it, things never changed in all those years, even though we’re both vastly different individuals from who we were in our youth. I still remember trying to explain to him as kids that his wearing his LA gear shoes lit up and gave away our position during capture the flag. His talking me into telling a dirty joke, memorizing it the first time through, smiling and running to rat me out to Pop.

I can’t do shit but sit here, hate that I can’t kill every one of these goat fucking shit shamans, and wait for a time where I can do something besides tell our families I love them. When I came into the Air Force, my highest honor, to this day, was escorting my flight commander, Nathan Nylander’s family. The distinct, burning memory I have of that is standing at attention on the flight line as his body was brought off the aircraft, and having his young children begin to cry, not a stones toss from me, as the realization set in that it was really happening. It fucking destroyed me. That pain, though painfully memorable, was momentary. It was the singular hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, until now. I know that is coming for my family and the absolute pain and hatred it inspires in me is indescribable. I want to strike out, to defend something that has already passed defending. There is nothing but the most tenuous vapors the wind to strike at. My hatred accomplishes nothing, which only makes me hate all the more deeply. I am sitting at the squadron right now as I write this, a non-commissioned officer in the strongest military on the planet, thousands of miles from our families, on a beautiful island filled with wonderful people that can’t drive to save their lives… and //I can’t fucking do anything.// Now, I’ve typed a small book and said nothing I wanted to say by it.

I’ll close with what John already knew: I love him like a brother, and I wish all our/my friends had had the opportunity to get to know the fucking badass he grew into. I have no hesitation in saying he grew into a better man than I did and that will live on through his children.

JohnAndBratty

Signs Of The Times

or “lack there of” actually.

I hate this election, I really really do.

As has been obvious I haven’t been posting much at all just because I am so disgusted and dispirited by everything attached to and associated with it, and I know I’m not alone in this feeling. Here in Deep Blue New Jersey as I drive around I see hundreds of signs advocating various candidates for various local offices…but interestingly none for the Presidential candidates; and by “none” I do mean none. Thinking back on years past when the yards were festooned with “Gore” and “Obama” and “Bush” signs it is shocking to drive around and see no Trump or Hillary signs; and the lack of Hillary signs is especially so here in New Jersey (and frankly should be very troubling for her and her Party).

There is ONE sign in my town with her name on it, and it’s not exactly a ringing endorsement:

hillsign1

I’m writing in my Bride’s name on my ballot.

Oh Fer Gawd’s Sake

This is just beyond stupid

Save the Children Report on Girls Ranks U.S. 32nd Out of 144 Countries
by EMMA MARGOLIN

The United States has finished behind countries including Algeria and Kazakhstan in a new ranking of the best and worst countries in which to be a girl.

The report compiled by Save the Children suggested Sweden was the best place for young females to live. Niger finished at the bottom. The U.S. was rated 32nd on the 144-country list.

Not all rich countries are doing as well as they could for their girls, according to the non-governmental organization. It singled out the U.S. in particular.

“There are things where we do not shine on the U.S. side,” said Carolyn Miles, president and CEO of Save the Children. One major example she pointed to was female representation in national government.

I cordially invite Emma and her cohorts to move to Algeria and Kazakhstan and enjoy the glorious life for women there.

Please.

Go.

The First Concerto Ever Recorded

Also happens to be my favorite (mind you, the score was heavily edited to go from 30+ minutes as written to the 6 minutes the wax could hold)

Ah, What A World

Not much else to say, really.

Shine On Harvest Moon

I Do Miss Our Boy

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sigh

He wasn’t much of a vegetable eater

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but cow…

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nom-nom

The Waco Kid, Dr. Frahnk-en-shteen, Willy Wonka

…and so many more have left the building today.



Thank you, Gene.

Roast Venison

It’s what’s for dinner

More than 300 wild reindeer have been killed by lighting in central Norway in what wildlife officials are calling an unusually large natural disaster.

The Norwegian Environment Agency has released eerie images showing a jumble of reindeer carcasses scattered across a small area on the Hardangervidda mountain plateau. The agency says 323 animals were killed, including 70 calves, in the lightning storm Friday.

Agency spokesman Kjartan Knutsen told the AP it’s not uncommon for reindeer or other wildlife to be killed by lightning strikes, “but we have not heard about such numbers before.”

He said reindeer tend to stay very close to each other in bad weather, which could explain how so many were killed at once.

Santa was unavailable for comment.

One Of My Favorite Songs Of All Time

and a loving tribute to his dad

Today at Work

Sweet MOTHER of GOD, SAVE us from 20-something feminist SJWs! In the store this afternoon, after looking up at Olympics on telly [insert disgusted voice]:

WHY do they have the WOMEN in BATHING SUITS to RIDE BIKES in a race?!” [steam steam steam]

THS lifts quizzical eyebrow a la Ebola.

It’s the triathlon [unspoken: YOU EFFING TWIT]. They swim a third of it.

Oh.

Interest now engaged elsewhere that outrage unwarranted.

We’re doomed.

27 Years Of Joy I Haven’t Deserved

Real Courage

And no, you don’t show it by moving to Canada when someone you don’t like wins

What Happened To The Signers Of The Declaration?

A wonderful reminder of folks who actually had Sacred Honor.

(hat tip to Insta)

Happy Birthday to the FINEST COUNTRY ON EARTH, EVER

Happy Fourth of July, my fellow Americans!

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HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

Happy Father’s Day to ALL you wonderful, incredible, ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL guys like major dad, my Daddy, my miss-him-every-day-bestest-Father-in-Law-Ever, my amazing, capable brothers like Bingley and schweetest brothers-in-law.
fathersDay

WHERE would the world be without fathers? We’re getting a peek right now.

Sunset On The Shrewsbury

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It was quite lurvly last night.

More Apt Today Than Ever

Happy Flag Day!

will the last one to leave please put her away gently

Filed Under: “Help, Help! I’m Being Oppressed!”

What a Horrible, Ghastly, Almost Beyond Bearing Day

…for the military. Pensacola has lost one of our Blue Angels

Blue Angels pilot dies in Tenn. crash

Blue-Angels

…as the Air Force ALMOST simultaneously lost a Thunderbird

Thunderbirds fighter jet crashes in Colorado flyover after Air Force Academy graduation
Pilot Maj. Alex turner unhurt: officials credit him for dodging nearby homes

Minutes after his team streaked over President Obama and Air Force Academy cadets at a graduation ceremony on Thursday, the pilot of a Thunderbirds fighter jet maneuvered his plane away from homes as it crashed into a field near Colorado Springs.

Turner radioed he was having trouble with the jet and trying to direct it away from homes before the crash, said Lt. Col. Christopher Hammond, commander of the Thunderbirds.

…even while tragedy struck in Fort Hood Texas:

ARMY
Crews search for 4 missing soldiers after Army vehicle swept away in floodwaters near Fort Hood, killing 5

U.S. Army teams and other emergency rescue crews are in a desperate search Friday for four soldiers still missing from a truck that was swept from a low-water crossing and overturned in a swollen creek at Fort Hood, killing at least five and injuring three.

There are no words. Just tears.

We Remember

Always.

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Happy Birthday, EBOLA!

Most adorable bay boy, EH-VAH.
Bratty003

We love YOU the MOSTEST in the WHOLE, WIDE WORLD!

Your Math for the Day

I Have a Problem With the Concept

…of asking the home invader what his intentions are and, if violence is included, accepting it as your fate, because…well…Christ.

Via Glenn: And the PERFECT illustration of the rollover-and-die principle happens almost immediately. You KNOW what Preacher Man would have had this quick thinking young lad do, even though the question was fairly put to the home intruder vis-à-vis HIS intentions…

Young boy shoots suspected burglar, mocks him for ‘crying like a baby’

11-year-old Chris Gaither from Talladega, Alabama, has told reporters how an intruder “cried like a baby” after Chris shot him in the leg with a 9mm handgun.

Home school-student Chris was alone at his house on Wednesday morning when he heard footsteps; someone had broken in and was walking around upstairs, apparently intending to burgle the Gaither’s home.

Chris took hold of a nearby gun and prepared to face the intruder, who started coming back down the stairs carrying a hamper.

“When he was coming down the stairs, that’s when he told me he was going to kill me, f-you and all that,” the boy told local news broadcaster WVTM.

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