Identifying Parking Lot Terrorists...
Since I do most of the cooking, I visit the grocery store at least three or four days each week. These frequent visits are necessitated because I like to buy fresh vegetables and meat as our daily menus evolve.
Being a semi professional cook and a self proclaimed professional grocery shopper, I also find it amusing to watch people stuff their carts with yellow, orange, or other brightly colored packages of pre-processed "cheese food" products and crappy junk food full of partially hydrogenated oils.
While I’ve decided that I love the INSIDE of our local grocery stores for their contents and entertainment value, I also have to admit that I absolutely hate the OUTSIDE of each of these same establishments.
Why?
Because many if not most people act like complete, total, ingrates and assholes when they are in the grocery store parking lot.
These people are selectively arrogant, depending on if they are DRIVING an automobile or PUSHING a shopping cart.
When they drive their giant SUV into the parking lot to park and you find yourself already in the middle of the road walking into or out of the store, most of these NASCAR wannabe's will scare the heck out of you sailing inches past your heels at 30 MPH. You have to be a Hollywood stunt-man (excuse me...stuntPERSON) to escape the wrath of some idiot drivers.
Yet these same people (the idiot drivers) will exit the store, look the opposite way or into the wild blue yonder, and step off of the curb 2 inches in front of your front bumper when you are driving by, confidently expecting you to yield or even come to a complete stop while they mindlessly fumble with items in their carts or pause to chat with some long lost friend or relative passing by. I guess that they think that what they don't see can't hurt them.
No matter what their beliefs or motives, it makes my blood boil and my head spin around uncontrollably.
I've been thinking about the situation, and I have a suggestion that I think just might solve this problem…
COLOR CODED SHOPPING ATTIRE.
That’s right, if it were up to me, I’d put a store employee outside the front of each store watching people drive into the parking lot. Based on their behavior and driving demeanor, they would be handed a color coded vest, jersey, or even secretely issued a color coded shopping cart or have their groceries bagged in color coded bags.
Here is how the system would work:
GREEN –The color green would be issued by the attendant to courteous drivers that obey the parking lot speed limits, actually stop at the crosswalks for pedestrians, drive in the correct direction up and down the parking isles, and park in legal parking spaces—not on the curb, beside grass islands, or in handicapped spaces. Any other driver/shopper that injured or otherwise harassed a customer wearing the color Green would face the normal severe legal ramifications as well as face having their shopping privileges revoked as a result of infractions.
YELLOW—The color yellow would be issued to drivers that disobey any one of the above rules. By tracking the customers behavior on their Harris Teeter “VIC” card or other customer card, good behavior could result in the customer being upgraded back to green, but repeated violations would result in the shopper being downgraded to…
RED—The color red would be, unfortunately, issued to at least half of our local grocery shoppers. Red would represent the worst in arrogant, self-important human behavior. Driving 30 in a 10 MPH zone, parking in the fire lane, doing “u-turn” parking in front of cars already waiting on parking spaces, speeding past cars that have already backed three quarters of the way out of a space, driving down the middle of the parking isles blabbing on their cellphones, stepping mindlessly off of the curb pushing a cart in front of courteous drivers forcing them to slam on their brakes, leaving carts in the middle of adjacent spaces rather than returning them to the racks, waddling up the middle of the parking isle in front of a driver—forcing them to follow your slow progress rather than getting your fat ass out of the way of a 4,000 pound vehicle--all of these infractions would get you the hated red vest, or red cart, or red shopping bags...
And then the fun would begin, FOR ME (and all of the other shoppers with green status), because if I (we) catch you walking through the parking lot wearing, bearing, or pushing red…
MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOUL...
and whatever else is left of you when I and my Suburban gets through with your ass…
You'll know how a rodeo clown feels when I get through with you.
YOU GOT THAT???
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
Quote Of The Day
I enjoy reading Thomas Sowell's columns each week in our local newspaper, The Brunswick News. Mr. Sowell is a economist and Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution at Stanford University.
In my opinion Thomas is a smart man, but who am I to make such an assessment--the recoginition that he receives from his peers bears this point out quite well.
His web site has a listing of his favorite quotations which I enjoyed reading. Here is my favorite:
"Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience."
Who does it sound like he is talking about?
The liberal "do gooders" in our government, perhaps?
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Rocket Scientists versus Environmentalists
I’m a mean old anti-environmentalist. I have no problem admitting this fact--in fact, I'm proud of it.
I think that most environmentalists are stupid dipsticks that couldn’t find their own butt with a flashlight and a road map.
Most environmentalists are so misinformed (or just plain stupid) that 99% of the stuff that they run around preaching about and worrying about either can’t be proven, can’t be controlled, or doesn’t really matter in the total scope of the happenings on our lovely planet Earth.
Of course, I also believe that they (the environmentalists) are entitled to their ideas and ideals, I just object when they try to force their beliefs on me through intimidation or worst of all...
LEGISLATION.
Take the 1987 Montreal Treaty, for instance.
Need I mention that the Montreal Treaty was sponsored by the United Nations?
Well...it was.
The Montreal Treaty essentially was concerned with limiting or ending the production and use of substances (chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs), halons, carbon tetrachloride, and methyl chloroform) that was believed to cause harm to the ozone layer.
You remember ozone layer, don’t you?
Did you know that we didn’t know about Ozone until the mid 1800’s?
Did you know that we didn’t know that the ozone molecules liked to hang around together in a “layer” high up in the stratosphere until the early 1900’s?
Did you know that we didn’t know that things like solar radiation and lightning makes ozone until the mid 1900’s?
We also didn’t know that there was a “hole” in the ozone layer up over the artic circle until the mid 1980’s.
See all the things we DIDN’T KNOW until relatively recently in human history?
Well, thank GOD for all of those genius ENVIRONMENTALISTS and their supporting scientific community and liberal media, because, in spite of only knowing about the ozone layer for 75 years and, in spite of not knowing about a hole in said ozone layer for two years, in 1987 they all got together, sang a couple of rousing verses of Kum-Ba-Ya, and produced the Montreal Treaty to solve the perceived problem with the hole in the ozone layer.
If you are interested in how Montreal Treaty’s changes effect you, take a walk outside and look under the hood at your car’s air conditioner. If there is a sticker there that says “R-134A” instead of “R-12”—you can thank the Montreal Treaty for this little price increase and performance DECREASE that you live with every day.
All of the tree hugging morons clapped their hands and ran around celebrating these measures as yet another essential step in saving our planet. What they didn’t tell you is that if one large volcano like the Philippines’ Mt. Pinatubo decides to erupt again like it did in 1991 that it will dump more CFC’s into the air in one day than humans could if we all ran outside and released the entire contents of the hated R-12 (Freon) contained in every car air conditioner in the entire US.
So much for good planning—right?
That’s OK, say the environmentalists—it’s the thought that counts...
Now we learn that the Space Shuttle has once again had a close call with a piece of foam separating from the disposable hydrogen tank during liftoff.
You remember how pesky that darned old foam can be when it comes off during liftoff, don’t you?
In February of 2003 a little old piece of foam came off during liftoff of the Columbia, cut a hole in the leading edge of the heat shield tiles on the wing, and caused the loss of the shuttle and its entire crew during re-entry.
After being grounded for nearly two and one half years, I thought that NASA had fixed the “foam problem.”
Do you know what the origin of “the foam problem” is?
Back in 1997 NASA changed the foam that they used to insulate the external tank in compliance with EPA regulations resulting from the Montreal Treaty.
They immediately had a problem with the foam coming off during liftoff. Then NASA sought and received a variance to allow them to go back to the Freon based foam product, but the environmentalists, both external to NASA and internal to NASA’s management, choose to continue using the new “eco-friendly” foam.
What amazes me is that, after losing a zillion dollar spaceship, an entire crew of highly trained human beings, and spending 1.5 billion additional dollars over 2-1/2 years, NASA is still opting to use the crappy “eco-friendly” foam rather than reverting to the proven product that they had previouosly flown for almost 20 years.
Now the shuttle fleet is grounded AGAIN and we have another shuttle and crew of sons and daughters in orbit, and the f**king moronic ENVIRONMENTALISTS are obviously still running the show at NASA.
Let me ask you this…
When are we going to put the SCIENCE back in the ROCKET SCIENTIST and take the MENTAL out of the ENVIRONMENTALIST?
Well...I'm waiting for an answer here...
(Somebody said that you should call environmentalists “watermelons” because they are “green” on the outside and red “communists” on the inside. I Totally Agree...)
I think that most environmentalists are stupid dipsticks that couldn’t find their own butt with a flashlight and a road map.
Most environmentalists are so misinformed (or just plain stupid) that 99% of the stuff that they run around preaching about and worrying about either can’t be proven, can’t be controlled, or doesn’t really matter in the total scope of the happenings on our lovely planet Earth.
Of course, I also believe that they (the environmentalists) are entitled to their ideas and ideals, I just object when they try to force their beliefs on me through intimidation or worst of all...
LEGISLATION.
Take the 1987 Montreal Treaty, for instance.
Need I mention that the Montreal Treaty was sponsored by the United Nations?
Well...it was.
The Montreal Treaty essentially was concerned with limiting or ending the production and use of substances (chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs), halons, carbon tetrachloride, and methyl chloroform) that was believed to cause harm to the ozone layer.
You remember ozone layer, don’t you?
Did you know that we didn’t know about Ozone until the mid 1800’s?
Did you know that we didn’t know that the ozone molecules liked to hang around together in a “layer” high up in the stratosphere until the early 1900’s?
Did you know that we didn’t know that things like solar radiation and lightning makes ozone until the mid 1900’s?
We also didn’t know that there was a “hole” in the ozone layer up over the artic circle until the mid 1980’s.
See all the things we DIDN’T KNOW until relatively recently in human history?
Well, thank GOD for all of those genius ENVIRONMENTALISTS and their supporting scientific community and liberal media, because, in spite of only knowing about the ozone layer for 75 years and, in spite of not knowing about a hole in said ozone layer for two years, in 1987 they all got together, sang a couple of rousing verses of Kum-Ba-Ya, and produced the Montreal Treaty to solve the perceived problem with the hole in the ozone layer.
If you are interested in how Montreal Treaty’s changes effect you, take a walk outside and look under the hood at your car’s air conditioner. If there is a sticker there that says “R-134A” instead of “R-12”—you can thank the Montreal Treaty for this little price increase and performance DECREASE that you live with every day.
All of the tree hugging morons clapped their hands and ran around celebrating these measures as yet another essential step in saving our planet. What they didn’t tell you is that if one large volcano like the Philippines’ Mt. Pinatubo decides to erupt again like it did in 1991 that it will dump more CFC’s into the air in one day than humans could if we all ran outside and released the entire contents of the hated R-12 (Freon) contained in every car air conditioner in the entire US.
So much for good planning—right?
That’s OK, say the environmentalists—it’s the thought that counts...
Now we learn that the Space Shuttle has once again had a close call with a piece of foam separating from the disposable hydrogen tank during liftoff.
You remember how pesky that darned old foam can be when it comes off during liftoff, don’t you?
In February of 2003 a little old piece of foam came off during liftoff of the Columbia, cut a hole in the leading edge of the heat shield tiles on the wing, and caused the loss of the shuttle and its entire crew during re-entry.
After being grounded for nearly two and one half years, I thought that NASA had fixed the “foam problem.”
Do you know what the origin of “the foam problem” is?
Back in 1997 NASA changed the foam that they used to insulate the external tank in compliance with EPA regulations resulting from the Montreal Treaty.
They immediately had a problem with the foam coming off during liftoff. Then NASA sought and received a variance to allow them to go back to the Freon based foam product, but the environmentalists, both external to NASA and internal to NASA’s management, choose to continue using the new “eco-friendly” foam.
What amazes me is that, after losing a zillion dollar spaceship, an entire crew of highly trained human beings, and spending 1.5 billion additional dollars over 2-1/2 years, NASA is still opting to use the crappy “eco-friendly” foam rather than reverting to the proven product that they had previouosly flown for almost 20 years.
Now the shuttle fleet is grounded AGAIN and we have another shuttle and crew of sons and daughters in orbit, and the f**king moronic ENVIRONMENTALISTS are obviously still running the show at NASA.
Let me ask you this…
When are we going to put the SCIENCE back in the ROCKET SCIENTIST and take the MENTAL out of the ENVIRONMENTALIST?
Well...I'm waiting for an answer here...
(Somebody said that you should call environmentalists “watermelons” because they are “green” on the outside and red “communists” on the inside. I Totally Agree...)
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Airline Ticket Bait & Switch
I’ve spent a good deal of time on airliners over the past 27 years since I started traveling via air.
My first airline trip was a real whopper—half way around the world to the Philippines from the Dothan, Alabama airport. The trip involved flying from Dothan to San Francisco International Airport, then traveling by bus to Travis Air Force Base where I jumped on a Lockheed C-141 MAC transport plane that flew us to Alaska, then on to Japan, then finally to Subic Bay Philippines. I was in the air nearly 30 hours by the time I arrived at my destination.
Counting time on the ground, in airport lobbies, and a brief stay in a BOQ in Japan, the trip took 2-1/2 days to accomplish. To add insult to injury, they lost my luggage after I had worn the same kaki uniform for all of that time.
Needless to say I survived the Philippines and the return trip.
Today I’m planning my first trip back to the Dothan, Alabama airport since 1978--flying over to visit my mother in mid August. I logged on to the Delta Sky Miles Website to attempt to redeem some frequent flier miles for the trip and learned two things that pissed me off.
The first was that they wanted 50,000 points to make the round trip from Brunswick to the little podunk Dothan airport. Last time I checked, you could fly round trip virtually anywhere in the continental US except possibly New Orleans at Mardi Gras or Key West for 25,000 points round trip. Since I only had about 26000 miles available, I thought that I would just transfer my miles to Pat’s frequent flyer account and at least pay for half of the trip while she used her points to purchase my return ticket.
But nooooooo, I couldn’t do that, because Delta now charges you $10 per 1000 miles transferred and a $25 transfer fee. Moving a measly 26000 miles would cost me $285—more than half the price of the round trip ticket if I paid cash.
I know that Delta is suffering financially and the large backlog of frequent flyer miles represent a large financial liability, but a DEAL is a DEAL. They promised these miles for the past 25 or so years to their passengers in order to build allegiance, but the miles are useless when they start doubling the mileage costs to get a ticket and charge you an arm and a leg to donate them to a friend or family member.
We fly Delta because they are the only airline serving Brunswick and we both have frequent flyer accounts with them, but Southwest and Air Tran operate out of Jacksonville, Florida just an hour away and we will be reviewing our options if Delta keeps up their heavy handed tactics.
With policies like this, is it any wonder that Delta’s looking at bankruptcy?
My first airline trip was a real whopper—half way around the world to the Philippines from the Dothan, Alabama airport. The trip involved flying from Dothan to San Francisco International Airport, then traveling by bus to Travis Air Force Base where I jumped on a Lockheed C-141 MAC transport plane that flew us to Alaska, then on to Japan, then finally to Subic Bay Philippines. I was in the air nearly 30 hours by the time I arrived at my destination.
Counting time on the ground, in airport lobbies, and a brief stay in a BOQ in Japan, the trip took 2-1/2 days to accomplish. To add insult to injury, they lost my luggage after I had worn the same kaki uniform for all of that time.
Needless to say I survived the Philippines and the return trip.
Today I’m planning my first trip back to the Dothan, Alabama airport since 1978--flying over to visit my mother in mid August. I logged on to the Delta Sky Miles Website to attempt to redeem some frequent flier miles for the trip and learned two things that pissed me off.
The first was that they wanted 50,000 points to make the round trip from Brunswick to the little podunk Dothan airport. Last time I checked, you could fly round trip virtually anywhere in the continental US except possibly New Orleans at Mardi Gras or Key West for 25,000 points round trip. Since I only had about 26000 miles available, I thought that I would just transfer my miles to Pat’s frequent flyer account and at least pay for half of the trip while she used her points to purchase my return ticket.
But nooooooo, I couldn’t do that, because Delta now charges you $10 per 1000 miles transferred and a $25 transfer fee. Moving a measly 26000 miles would cost me $285—more than half the price of the round trip ticket if I paid cash.
I know that Delta is suffering financially and the large backlog of frequent flyer miles represent a large financial liability, but a DEAL is a DEAL. They promised these miles for the past 25 or so years to their passengers in order to build allegiance, but the miles are useless when they start doubling the mileage costs to get a ticket and charge you an arm and a leg to donate them to a friend or family member.
We fly Delta because they are the only airline serving Brunswick and we both have frequent flyer accounts with them, but Southwest and Air Tran operate out of Jacksonville, Florida just an hour away and we will be reviewing our options if Delta keeps up their heavy handed tactics.
With policies like this, is it any wonder that Delta’s looking at bankruptcy?
Cheep Humor
A fleeing Taliban, desperate for water, was plodding through the Afghanistan desert when he saw something far off in the distance.
Hoping to find water, he walked toward the object, only to find a little old Jewish man sitting at a card table with neckties laid out on it.
The Arab asked, "My thirst is killing me. Do you have water?"
The Jewish man replied, "I have no water, but would you like to buy a tie? They are only $150. This one goes very nicely with your robes."
The Arab shouted, "Idiot! I do not need an overpriced tie. I need water!
"OK," said the old Jew, "It does not matter that you do not want to buy a tie. I will show you that you have not offended me. If you walk over that hill to the east for about two miles, you will find a lovely restaurant. Go! Walk that way! The restaurant has all the water you need!"
The Arab staggered away toward the hill and eventually disappeared.
Four hours later the Arab came crawling back to where the Jewish man was sitting at his table.
The Jew said, "I told you, about two miles over that hill. Could you not find it?"
"I found it all right," rasped the Arab...
"But YOUR BROTHER won't let me in without a tie."
(Hat Tip to my friend John Mixon)
Hoping to find water, he walked toward the object, only to find a little old Jewish man sitting at a card table with neckties laid out on it.
The Arab asked, "My thirst is killing me. Do you have water?"
The Jewish man replied, "I have no water, but would you like to buy a tie? They are only $150. This one goes very nicely with your robes."
The Arab shouted, "Idiot! I do not need an overpriced tie. I need water!
"OK," said the old Jew, "It does not matter that you do not want to buy a tie. I will show you that you have not offended me. If you walk over that hill to the east for about two miles, you will find a lovely restaurant. Go! Walk that way! The restaurant has all the water you need!"
The Arab staggered away toward the hill and eventually disappeared.
Four hours later the Arab came crawling back to where the Jewish man was sitting at his table.
The Jew said, "I told you, about two miles over that hill. Could you not find it?"
"I found it all right," rasped the Arab...
"But YOUR BROTHER won't let me in without a tie."
(Hat Tip to my friend John Mixon)
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
We're Back In Orbit
Our little group sat around for a while this morning watching NASA TV with one eye and the live FOX News broadcast with the other. I was disappointed to realize that the NASA TV web feed is delayed a couple of minutes--for what reason I don't understand.
After watching the first 30 seconds of flight, we all ran out the door and down to the pool deck where we were joined by a half dozen of our neighbors all looking south, hoping to see the Discovery climbing out toward orbit.
No such luck...we had a clear sky, but a light haze that prevented us from seeing five miles let alone one hundred and five miles.
Oh well...at least everyone is safe...so far...
After watching the first 30 seconds of flight, we all ran out the door and down to the pool deck where we were joined by a half dozen of our neighbors all looking south, hoping to see the Discovery climbing out toward orbit.
No such luck...we had a clear sky, but a light haze that prevented us from seeing five miles let alone one hundred and five miles.
Oh well...at least everyone is safe...so far...
NASA Trys Again
I'm sitting here watching the preparations for the launch of the space shuttle Discovery with seven astronauts on NASA TV at 10:39 AM this morning.
If you have DSL or a cable modem, go over and check out the site. It's pretty interesting to see the crew getting suited up and watch how hard it is to climb inside the shuttle to get into their seats lying on their backs.
On the last launch attempt, they had just barely got the seventh crew member inside and were strapping him in his seat when the sensor failed on the liquid hydrogen tank and they had to scrub the launch.
I wish them luck, and we'll be watching the launch on NASA TV, then we're running outside to our swimming pool deck area and looking south--hopefully seeing the shuttle climb out from Cape Kennedy located 100 or so miles south of St. Simons.
I hope the weather stays clear...
If you have DSL or a cable modem, go over and check out the site. It's pretty interesting to see the crew getting suited up and watch how hard it is to climb inside the shuttle to get into their seats lying on their backs.
On the last launch attempt, they had just barely got the seventh crew member inside and were strapping him in his seat when the sensor failed on the liquid hydrogen tank and they had to scrub the launch.
I wish them luck, and we'll be watching the launch on NASA TV, then we're running outside to our swimming pool deck area and looking south--hopefully seeing the shuttle climb out from Cape Kennedy located 100 or so miles south of St. Simons.
I hope the weather stays clear...
Monday, July 25, 2005
This Just In...
I stand corrected, I just heard on the ABC Radio news that the London Police fired EIGHT SHOTS, not five, into the idiot Brazilian's head the other day.
Hey, they still showed restraint--the clip probably holds ten rounds...
Hey, they still showed restraint--the clip probably holds ten rounds...
They Should Give Them The Maximum Sentence
(And sometimes it's the "Death Sentence")
There was a time not too long ago when being a moron or idiot in public could be excused and overlooked legally.
Not any more.
It’s always been against the law to yell “fire” in a crowded theater—that would get you put in jail and prosecuted if there was enough of you left to lock up when members of the general public got through stomping your body flat and tearing you a new asshole.
Remember that idiot University of Georgia fan that, while on his way to a football game in Athens, realized that he had left his camera on the plane, so he ran back into the secure area, the wrong way, going “down” an “up escalator” at Hartsfield International Airport…AFTER 9/11.
This infamous "Bulldog" fan managed to shut the ENTIRE airport down for the rest of the day until they found is stupid carcass. The judge sentenced him to pay a fine, serve community service, and he was forbidden from being allowed to attend a UGA game for the rest of the football season.
I think that he got off light, but he gave me an idea about how lame most of homeland security efforts really are—particularly as long as we are strip searching my grandmother and refusing to concentrate our efforts on Arab men in their 20’s and 30’s.
If I were a terrorist of the “chicken shit” scared variety and didn’t want to die and collect my virgins and whatever other eternal reward the Jhadists think they will receive, imagine the effectiveness of a couple dozen like minded idiots doing something as simple as bolting past the snoozing police officers commonly found guarding the arriving flight passenger corridors at airports like O’Hare, Logan, Miami, Hartsfield, Denver, and LA—ALL AT THE SAME TIME, later disappearing into the arriving crowds of people.
Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue?
The entire air transportation system of the US would come to a roaring stop for at least 24 hours.
Next, the police would erect barricades in the parking lots and you wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the entire airport terminal building without a ticket in your hand. Perhaps they would start requiring a ticket with a barcode on it to get you off of the interstate exit ramp and into the ground transportation parking lots feeding the airport.
At least I couldn’t get in and my little old silver haired 92 year old grandmother couldn’t get in, but the NY Times and the ACLU would be standing around screaming that young ARAB men should be allowed to come out to the passenger terminal bars, bring their dates, and drink on Friday night because we can’t be guilty of PROFILING.
I have this to say about that: If you go out in public and fling a backpack at a ticket agent and yell “it’s a bomb” like this guy did, I think that the police should be authorized to pin your miserable head to the pavement and pump five 9 mm rounds into your medulla oblongata.
"Police arrested a man following a bomb scare that emptied Pennsylvania Station and disrupted service on Amtrak, commuter trains and city subways for about an hour, and officers also halted a tour bus and searched its passengers.
The busy commuter hub was evacuated after the man allegedly threw a backpack at an Amtrak agent and said it was a bomb, said Marissa Baldeo, a spokeswoman for New York City Transit. The threat was a false alarm, and service on all lines was soon restored.
Police arrested the man, Raul Claudio, 43, on Sunday, according to Manhattan District Attorney's office spokeswoman, Barbara Thompson. Claudio was awaiting arraignment on felony charges of making terrorists threats and falsely reporting an incident, Thompson said. Each count carries a sentence of up to seven years in prison."
If this happens a couple more times and the idiot is killed instantly by the police, I seriously suspect that it won’t happen ever again.
Know what I mean?
There was a time not too long ago when being a moron or idiot in public could be excused and overlooked legally.
Not any more.
It’s always been against the law to yell “fire” in a crowded theater—that would get you put in jail and prosecuted if there was enough of you left to lock up when members of the general public got through stomping your body flat and tearing you a new asshole.
Remember that idiot University of Georgia fan that, while on his way to a football game in Athens, realized that he had left his camera on the plane, so he ran back into the secure area, the wrong way, going “down” an “up escalator” at Hartsfield International Airport…AFTER 9/11.
This infamous "Bulldog" fan managed to shut the ENTIRE airport down for the rest of the day until they found is stupid carcass. The judge sentenced him to pay a fine, serve community service, and he was forbidden from being allowed to attend a UGA game for the rest of the football season.
I think that he got off light, but he gave me an idea about how lame most of homeland security efforts really are—particularly as long as we are strip searching my grandmother and refusing to concentrate our efforts on Arab men in their 20’s and 30’s.
If I were a terrorist of the “chicken shit” scared variety and didn’t want to die and collect my virgins and whatever other eternal reward the Jhadists think they will receive, imagine the effectiveness of a couple dozen like minded idiots doing something as simple as bolting past the snoozing police officers commonly found guarding the arriving flight passenger corridors at airports like O’Hare, Logan, Miami, Hartsfield, Denver, and LA—ALL AT THE SAME TIME, later disappearing into the arriving crowds of people.
Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue?
The entire air transportation system of the US would come to a roaring stop for at least 24 hours.
Next, the police would erect barricades in the parking lots and you wouldn’t be allowed anywhere in the entire airport terminal building without a ticket in your hand. Perhaps they would start requiring a ticket with a barcode on it to get you off of the interstate exit ramp and into the ground transportation parking lots feeding the airport.
At least I couldn’t get in and my little old silver haired 92 year old grandmother couldn’t get in, but the NY Times and the ACLU would be standing around screaming that young ARAB men should be allowed to come out to the passenger terminal bars, bring their dates, and drink on Friday night because we can’t be guilty of PROFILING.
I have this to say about that: If you go out in public and fling a backpack at a ticket agent and yell “it’s a bomb” like this guy did, I think that the police should be authorized to pin your miserable head to the pavement and pump five 9 mm rounds into your medulla oblongata.
"Police arrested a man following a bomb scare that emptied Pennsylvania Station and disrupted service on Amtrak, commuter trains and city subways for about an hour, and officers also halted a tour bus and searched its passengers.
The busy commuter hub was evacuated after the man allegedly threw a backpack at an Amtrak agent and said it was a bomb, said Marissa Baldeo, a spokeswoman for New York City Transit. The threat was a false alarm, and service on all lines was soon restored.
Police arrested the man, Raul Claudio, 43, on Sunday, according to Manhattan District Attorney's office spokeswoman, Barbara Thompson. Claudio was awaiting arraignment on felony charges of making terrorists threats and falsely reporting an incident, Thompson said. Each count carries a sentence of up to seven years in prison."
If this happens a couple more times and the idiot is killed instantly by the police, I seriously suspect that it won’t happen ever again.
Know what I mean?
What Is There To Not Understand—Part II
Back in March I wrote Are They Just Plain Stupid?; I Was Right, They Were Just Stupid; and What Is There To Not Understand about the bribery rescue of the little Italian socialist journalist Giuliana Sgrena and the resulting shooting death of Italian military intelligence officer Nicola Calipari by coalition troops at a roadside checkpoint in Iraq.
At that time the story had two tracks.
The first, promoted by the world’s leftist mainstream media and the Italians, was that the Troops were murderous heathens intent on killing Comrade Sgrena because of her previous anti-war and anti-US newspaper writings. They claimed that they KNEW that Sgrena was in that automobile.
The second, ultimately proven track, was that Sgrena’s rescuers entered a war zone, under cover, without notifying US authorities, successfully conducted their bribe induced rescue, and then proceeded to attempt to run through a military check point on the Baghdad Airport Highway, an area where the primary mode of operation preferred by Islamic terrorists was that of DRIVING CAR BOMBS INTO CHECKPOINTS in an effort to kill Americans.
Sgrena was wounded, and Calipari was killed.
What was not to understand about that scenario?
Some suggest that the troops should have waited to see her press credentials, risking death by jhadist explosion?
Screw that option…
Now we have this idiot Brazilian national running around London, while the city is in a state of panic, within hours of the most recent transit bombing attack, ignoring uniformed police officers' orders, jumping transit station turnstiles and rushing onto a subway car. And here is the kicker—the idiot was wearing a heavy coat in the SUMMER, when the world is suffering a so-called “Global Warming” induced heat wave.
The police tackled him and pumped five shots into his stupid head.
What was not to understand about that scenario?
Some suggest that the British police should have waited to see if he actually had a bomb under his winter coat that he was wearing in July, or that they should have shot him in the knee or arm—thereby leaving him alive and quite capable of pressing the button or pulling the trigger on his explosives. Even a body shot could have hit any explosives the idiot was wearing and set off an explosion as a result.
I have a suggestion—If the bombers don’t want themselves or other innocent (although utterly stupid) bystanders shot in the head in the future…
THE TERRORISTS SHOULD START MAKING “HAT BOMBS” RATHER THAN EXPLOSIVE VESTS AND BACKPACKS—then our troops, police and other security forces can shoot them in the ASS rather than blowing their brains out.
Then again, the terrorist could also go home, stop exploding things, shut the hell up, and let the rest of us get on with what could be wonderful lives.
And here is another little piece of advice. I'm just an ignorant, self-proclaimed Redneck from south Alabama, but I think that the next time I have the urge to run around Atlanta wearing a trenchcoat in the summer and acting suspiciously at Hartsfield airport or in the MARTA subway stations, I'm either going blow myself up with gas from eating spicy bean burritos, else expect the police to fire about 1000 shots at me. (Knowing the Atlanta police--they'll miss me and kill and wound a half dozen bystanders...)
Know what I mean?
At that time the story had two tracks.
The first, promoted by the world’s leftist mainstream media and the Italians, was that the Troops were murderous heathens intent on killing Comrade Sgrena because of her previous anti-war and anti-US newspaper writings. They claimed that they KNEW that Sgrena was in that automobile.
The second, ultimately proven track, was that Sgrena’s rescuers entered a war zone, under cover, without notifying US authorities, successfully conducted their bribe induced rescue, and then proceeded to attempt to run through a military check point on the Baghdad Airport Highway, an area where the primary mode of operation preferred by Islamic terrorists was that of DRIVING CAR BOMBS INTO CHECKPOINTS in an effort to kill Americans.
Sgrena was wounded, and Calipari was killed.
What was not to understand about that scenario?
Some suggest that the troops should have waited to see her press credentials, risking death by jhadist explosion?
Screw that option…
Now we have this idiot Brazilian national running around London, while the city is in a state of panic, within hours of the most recent transit bombing attack, ignoring uniformed police officers' orders, jumping transit station turnstiles and rushing onto a subway car. And here is the kicker—the idiot was wearing a heavy coat in the SUMMER, when the world is suffering a so-called “Global Warming” induced heat wave.
The police tackled him and pumped five shots into his stupid head.
What was not to understand about that scenario?
Some suggest that the British police should have waited to see if he actually had a bomb under his winter coat that he was wearing in July, or that they should have shot him in the knee or arm—thereby leaving him alive and quite capable of pressing the button or pulling the trigger on his explosives. Even a body shot could have hit any explosives the idiot was wearing and set off an explosion as a result.
I have a suggestion—If the bombers don’t want themselves or other innocent (although utterly stupid) bystanders shot in the head in the future…
THE TERRORISTS SHOULD START MAKING “HAT BOMBS” RATHER THAN EXPLOSIVE VESTS AND BACKPACKS—then our troops, police and other security forces can shoot them in the ASS rather than blowing their brains out.
Then again, the terrorist could also go home, stop exploding things, shut the hell up, and let the rest of us get on with what could be wonderful lives.
And here is another little piece of advice. I'm just an ignorant, self-proclaimed Redneck from south Alabama, but I think that the next time I have the urge to run around Atlanta wearing a trenchcoat in the summer and acting suspiciously at Hartsfield airport or in the MARTA subway stations, I'm either going blow myself up with gas from eating spicy bean burritos, else expect the police to fire about 1000 shots at me. (Knowing the Atlanta police--they'll miss me and kill and wound a half dozen bystanders...)
Know what I mean?
Station Wagons Versus “Country Cadillac’s”
Few need them, and these days, most can just barely afford them…
When I was a little kid back in the 1960’s, most families had to make do with only one car. My family was fortunate enough to afford to own two cars starting in about 1964. I guess that we might have been considered “privileged” by some as a result of my father affording to accomplish this feat.
I didn’t know it at the time, but prior to my birth in 1959 my mother had sold her four-door 1956 Chevy Belair and my dad sold his '56 Chevy 210 2 door hardtop (that later on raced at the Darlington NASCAR track, among others) and used the proceeds to purchase a brand-spanking new 1958 Chevy Nomad Station Wagon because I was on the way via the “stork express” and my parents thought that they needed a family car.
All I could say years later when I found out they dumped a sweet ’56 two door Chevy for a 4 door station wagon was “you did what?”
I’ve guess that I’ve since gotten over it…
My dad always said that he had to own at least one car that could haul people and could get a 4’x8’ sheet of plywood inside—the ’58 Chevy wagon could do both. It was later replaced with a 1968 Chevy Nomad wagon with a 307 cubic inch V-8 that served the family equally well. My dad was happy because it would also haul plywood.
We also operated a 1963 VW Beetle convertible for a few years and later a 1965 VW Beetle served as our second auto. (There was also a brief stint with a 1965 Corvair as a replacement for the 1958 station wagon, but that only lasted a few years before my dad was back into hauling plywood and the Corvair had to go.)
Back in those days, pickup trucks—also known as “Country Cadillacs”—were fairly common in south Alabama, but it was considered a faux pas to drive your pickup truck to church on Sunday or out to dinner on Saturday night—if you lived in town and/or didn’t farm for a living. Of course people did drive trucks to church and to dinner, but the parking lots in town were generally full of two door and four door cars; back then your choice of sport utility vehicles was generally limited to the Chevy Suburban and the Jeep Wagoner.
This brings me to the point of my story this morning…
I just saw an ad on TV for a Volvo XC90 Suv.
A VOLVO SUV?????
Bah Humbug…What the heck is Volvo doing building SUV’s—particularly at this late date in the SUV fad?
I thought Volvo was in the business of building boxy, ugly, under-powered station wagons with heated seats—you know?
Got to protect those delicate European and Yuppy butts...you know?
Shouldn’t Volvo be following Subaru in repackaging their station wagons for the new young families that are rediscovering that type of vehicle? On further inspection, I figgured out that that is exactly what Volvo is doing.
The XC90 is actually a glorified station wagon with big tires and increased ground clearance.
OK, I still think that station wagons ROCK if you want quality transportation and the ability to comfortably haul a little extra crap around town or to the lake or beach when the need arises.
And church and grocery store parking lots—these days they are literally FILLED with SUV’s. If you drive a car you have a hard time finding it hidden behind all of the SUV’s with nameplates like Buick, Cadillac, Mercedes, Acura, Lexus, and so on.
Meanwhile, with gas prices hovering around two and a quarter a gallon, all I hear is bitching and complaining about the cost of driving.
Let me ask you: “You can’t stand the heat?”
“Well get the heck out of the kitchen!”
Stop following the foolish crowd of sheep that have all jumped on the bandwagon since I bought my first SUV back in 1984. I bought my last SUV—a 1995, appliance white, ¾ ton Chevy Suburban with 4 wheel drive (AND posi-traction) and a 454 cubic inch engine, and even back then I had to fight all of the Yuppy mothers that wanted to put in three kids in car seats along with a dog and a couple of bags of grocerys.
I WANTED a Suburban, but I also NEEDED a Suburban for my construction business.
When I bought one, it was what I call a REAL SUV, none of this whimpy stuff thats out there.
Today my Suburban has 185,000 miles on it and it has happily hauled a bunch of plywood (my dad would be happy,) some steel, and a lot of other random freight along with my white Redneck ass all over the east coast of the US.
I must admit that it hurts a little today to pay $95 for 42 gallons of gasoline to fill that sucker’s gas tank up, but it's long since been paid for.
Let me tell you something else you need to know…most of these things they try to sell to you as “Sport Utility Vehicles” couldn’t drive themselves out of our front yard after an inch of rain has fallen—without getting stuck up to the axles and costing you a call to AAA or spending $100 on a wrecker to tow your silly ass out of your mess.
In my opinion, a truck full of leather seats, fancy carpet, with running boards and all kinds of chrome plating and “Eddie Bauer” emblems all round the outside is just a modern, perverted, demented, version of a “FAKE COUNTRY CADILLAC.”
I wouldn’t be caught dead driving one to church.
When I was a little kid back in the 1960’s, most families had to make do with only one car. My family was fortunate enough to afford to own two cars starting in about 1964. I guess that we might have been considered “privileged” by some as a result of my father affording to accomplish this feat.
I didn’t know it at the time, but prior to my birth in 1959 my mother had sold her four-door 1956 Chevy Belair and my dad sold his '56 Chevy 210 2 door hardtop (that later on raced at the Darlington NASCAR track, among others) and used the proceeds to purchase a brand-spanking new 1958 Chevy Nomad Station Wagon because I was on the way via the “stork express” and my parents thought that they needed a family car.
All I could say years later when I found out they dumped a sweet ’56 two door Chevy for a 4 door station wagon was “you did what?”
I’ve guess that I’ve since gotten over it…
My dad always said that he had to own at least one car that could haul people and could get a 4’x8’ sheet of plywood inside—the ’58 Chevy wagon could do both. It was later replaced with a 1968 Chevy Nomad wagon with a 307 cubic inch V-8 that served the family equally well. My dad was happy because it would also haul plywood.
We also operated a 1963 VW Beetle convertible for a few years and later a 1965 VW Beetle served as our second auto. (There was also a brief stint with a 1965 Corvair as a replacement for the 1958 station wagon, but that only lasted a few years before my dad was back into hauling plywood and the Corvair had to go.)
Back in those days, pickup trucks—also known as “Country Cadillacs”—were fairly common in south Alabama, but it was considered a faux pas to drive your pickup truck to church on Sunday or out to dinner on Saturday night—if you lived in town and/or didn’t farm for a living. Of course people did drive trucks to church and to dinner, but the parking lots in town were generally full of two door and four door cars; back then your choice of sport utility vehicles was generally limited to the Chevy Suburban and the Jeep Wagoner.
This brings me to the point of my story this morning…
I just saw an ad on TV for a Volvo XC90 Suv.
A VOLVO SUV?????
Bah Humbug…What the heck is Volvo doing building SUV’s—particularly at this late date in the SUV fad?
I thought Volvo was in the business of building boxy, ugly, under-powered station wagons with heated seats—you know?
Got to protect those delicate European and Yuppy butts...you know?
Shouldn’t Volvo be following Subaru in repackaging their station wagons for the new young families that are rediscovering that type of vehicle? On further inspection, I figgured out that that is exactly what Volvo is doing.
The XC90 is actually a glorified station wagon with big tires and increased ground clearance.
OK, I still think that station wagons ROCK if you want quality transportation and the ability to comfortably haul a little extra crap around town or to the lake or beach when the need arises.
And church and grocery store parking lots—these days they are literally FILLED with SUV’s. If you drive a car you have a hard time finding it hidden behind all of the SUV’s with nameplates like Buick, Cadillac, Mercedes, Acura, Lexus, and so on.
Meanwhile, with gas prices hovering around two and a quarter a gallon, all I hear is bitching and complaining about the cost of driving.
Let me ask you: “You can’t stand the heat?”
“Well get the heck out of the kitchen!”
Stop following the foolish crowd of sheep that have all jumped on the bandwagon since I bought my first SUV back in 1984. I bought my last SUV—a 1995, appliance white, ¾ ton Chevy Suburban with 4 wheel drive (AND posi-traction) and a 454 cubic inch engine, and even back then I had to fight all of the Yuppy mothers that wanted to put in three kids in car seats along with a dog and a couple of bags of grocerys.
I WANTED a Suburban, but I also NEEDED a Suburban for my construction business.
When I bought one, it was what I call a REAL SUV, none of this whimpy stuff thats out there.
Today my Suburban has 185,000 miles on it and it has happily hauled a bunch of plywood (my dad would be happy,) some steel, and a lot of other random freight along with my white Redneck ass all over the east coast of the US.
I must admit that it hurts a little today to pay $95 for 42 gallons of gasoline to fill that sucker’s gas tank up, but it's long since been paid for.
Let me tell you something else you need to know…most of these things they try to sell to you as “Sport Utility Vehicles” couldn’t drive themselves out of our front yard after an inch of rain has fallen—without getting stuck up to the axles and costing you a call to AAA or spending $100 on a wrecker to tow your silly ass out of your mess.
In my opinion, a truck full of leather seats, fancy carpet, with running boards and all kinds of chrome plating and “Eddie Bauer” emblems all round the outside is just a modern, perverted, demented, version of a “FAKE COUNTRY CADILLAC.”
I wouldn’t be caught dead driving one to church.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
UH OH!
It seems that the Albany, NY fire department got a little overly enthusiastic while doing an exercise designed to let them practice rescue techniques.
Albany firefighters were tearing apart a minivan as part of a training exercise when someone noticed the personal items inside. That's when they realized they had trashed the wrong vehicle.
This week, Albany officials approved the city's share of the $12,000 bill for the 2002 Dodge Caravan that was mistakenly ripped open during a drill at a junk yard a year ago.
Officials say the firefighters routinely practice accident scene rescue techniques by tearing open donated junked cars. In June 2004, they were supposed to practice on an older vehicle located on another part of junk yard.
Instead, they used the Jaws of Life to tear open a three-year-old minivan that was at the business to undergo repairs.
The owner of the junk yard admitted its role in the mistake and is splitting the cost of the van with the fire department.
Can you imagine the tone of the phone call the shop manager had to make to the van's owner?
"Mr. Johnson...yea...uuhhh...this is Bob over at Bob's Body and Collision...how are you sir?"
"Good...glad to hear it sir."
"Ahhh...listen...I was just wondering how you'd feel about owning a convertable???"
"No?"
"Well sir, I'm afraid that we have a little problem here..."
